Clemency

Aaron and I didn't say much throughout the entire ride. Dad did all of the talking for us. "Isn't this great?" he said for what had to have been the hundredth time. "Can't you already smell the sea salt wind, feel the sand underfoot?"

"Yes, Dad," I groaned once again. I had already tried pointing out that there were much closer beaches that we could go to, and that it was really not a good idea for me to miss school now, with finals practically already being given. He had blown that off, like school didn't count for a thing. It was like he was hypnotized or something. He was completely not acting like himself.

I turned toward the window and watched the other cars, the ones that were probably filled with sane people going on trips that weren't totally random. To pass the time, I made up stories about them. That lady with curlers in her hair and lipstick on her cheek, she woke up late this morning and suddenly remembered that she was supposed to meet her boyfriend in Miami, where they were going to elope. And that man there, the one with the Betty Boop tattoo on his bulging muscles? He used to want to be a prima ballerina, until school bullies toughened the exterior around that soft heart.

And that boy, over there in his pink truck and sitting next to someone who looked astonishingly like Carrick?

My heart stuttered. Carrick? I turned back toward the truck, but suddenly no one was in the passenger seat. I could have sworn I'd seen that pure, ultrawhite hair. Surely no one else had anything like it. But what on earth would he be doing here? What, was he following me?

And then things started to click. I had never before questioned that he was in every one of my classes. I had never wondered why he had befriended me from the start, why he was so keen to spend every day with me. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have let myself be lulled into a sense of security around him? He was stalking me. But why?

I stared at my hands, willing an answer into my head. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Ever since we moved here…

No, that wasn't true. Not at all. Ever since the night I found the necklace, that terrifying night that never seemed to quite leave the back of my mind.

Another thing snapped into place. The necklace… Carrick had known about it from the first. How? And he was ridiculously overprotective, worse even than Aaron. What was his reason for that? Could it be that he was just using me because of the necklace? But why? What was one little trinket worth? Sure, it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry I had seen in my life. But that was it.

Or was it?

"Well, shit!" I couldn't help exclaiming. Goodness. How stupid could I be? How thick, how dense? Aaron shot me a sideways look, but I didn't pay any attention. I was too busy having a revelation of epic proportions.

The necklace. What if that was the root of everything? Carrick was only hanging around me, protecting me, because he wanted the necklace to be safe. The necklace, it wasn't normal. It had… something strange about it. Powers, I would say, except that that sounded ridiculous.

I thought about the night I found it, how I somehow knew that it had to be kept secret, how I had been compelled to wear it… How had I gotten so fast? Why couldn't I lie anymore, and why didn't I suck in gym class? My hearing and eyesight had gotten wicked good lately, too, but I had assumed it was because of the ultra-healthy eating Carrick was making me do. Was that because of the necklace? It seemed ridiculous to think about, but what if it was true? What else would wearing this thing do to me?

And Marie. Where did she fit into all of this? Because I suddenly understood that she had to be a part of it. Why else would she and Carrick hate each other so much? Which was on the good side? My heart ached to think that Carrick was using me, to think that he might possibly wish me any harm. But what if he was? What if he did?

I would lose my closest friend.

Was that squeezing, sinking sensation in my chest the feeling of my heart breaking?

Suddenly, I wasn't feeling too keen to get back home, after all.

Dad finally pulled off at a seriously scary-looking motel in a shady little town that made my hair stand on end. I was totally unsurprised when the pink truck that Carrick was in pulled into the parking lot. Unsurprised, but not unaffected. I was still working to cope with the idea that he didn't actually care about me, after all.

"Dad, didn't you say that this trip is all-expense paid?" Aaron asked, eyeing me dubiously.

"Sure did, son."

"Then… why are we staying here? This is the kind of place where people rent rooms to hide bodies in, not where they go on vacation."

"That's where you're wrong. I'm sure it's perfectly safe," Dad answered cheerfully, closing the door to our room behind him. It rebounded and smacked on his head. His grin didn't falter for a second.

"Maybe it's not this dump that's the scary thing here. What is he thinking?" Aaron muttered. I shrugged and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. I wasn't going to sleep a wink tonight, I knew that much. I would have to keep watch. Who knew who was going to come lurking? With a sudden, uncomfortable certainty, I knew that Carrick and his pink truck-driving friend weren't the only people following me.

But knowing that Carrick was here was comforting. Even though I knew now that he might not necessarily be looking out for me personally at all, I knew that he wouldn't let anything happen to the necklace. I knew that he wouldn't want to risk losing it, which meant that I was hopefully going to have his protection here in this run-down place.

"Which bed do you want, Jade?" Dad asked, still grinning that wide smile that was beginning to majorly creep me out. I considered. Would a window attack or one from the inside be more likely? There was only one floor, after all.

And the door would be easier to keep secure from farther away. There was no way to brace a window so that it wouldn't break. Besides that, I was hoping against hope that Carrick might be camping out on the other side of the door tonight. I was going to do my best not to look to see if he actually was. Tonight was going to be bleak enough as it was.

"I want the one by the window."

Dad nodded amiably. "You'd better grab the extra blanket out of the dresser, then. I think there's a bit of a draft."

Great. Just great. What if that draft was a crack in the window, a spot already weakened? That would make my job that much harder.

Aaron and Dad didn't take too long to settle in for the night, though I could hear from Aaron's shifting that he was feeling about as secure in this motel as I was. Honestly, I didn't know how he could bring himself to lay on these sheets. Who knew the last time they'd been lost, and what they had been used for since?

I had some ideas, none of them particularly good.

Eventually, though, both of them were asleep and I could begin to take defensive measures. I took the chair- the one that wasn't broken- and braced it against the doorknob. I had never understood how that does anything, but people always did it in movies, so it was worth a go.

I slid the bolt into place- how could Dad have missed this one simple step? But I didn't trust it to actually hold.

I heard light steps moving down the hallway toward our room, the kind that I knew I wouldn't have been able to hear just last week. I wrapped one hand around the necklace, feeling the cool, smooth orb, tracing the delicate gold swirls, and hoped for everyone's sake that the person was Carrick.