Cursed

Chapter 26

An old newspaper clipping, dulled to faint yellow, had been shoved between page two and three, detailing the horrifying events without a trace of the heavy emotion involved.

The house had burned. It’d started in an upstairs bedroom, spreading downstairs and engulfing the entire home. There had been only one survivor—Hayden.

I wiped under my eyes with the back of my hand and started to close the file. But toward the end of the page, I stopped. The times Hayden struggled for control flashed before me. The day Kurt had pushed me, and when I’d found the car in my locker and the trashcan had exploded. The times we’d argued and I smelled the distinct odor of smoke—like the smell of ozone burning—not fire. Had that been one of the reasons he’d backed off from me? Maybe it hadn’t just been my suspicions. Maybe he feared losing control again because of me, like both Parker and Kurt had warned me.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and closed the file. Sorrow burned through me. I couldn’t even begin to understand what he’d gone through—was still going through. My heart felt like it would rip open.

The guilt I carried with me over Dustin’s death was nothing compared to what he must feel.

After reading about Hayden, I didn’t care what Cromwell thought about me or the Assimilation program. If anything, it gave me more reason to figure out a way to control whatever it was I had. I’d always thought I had it bad—that what’d happened to me was the worst thing ever. Now I knew that wasn’t the case.

God, I felt like a douche.

Leaning forward, I put Hayden’s file back and started to close the drawer when I saw another file labeled only with initials: “J. G.” I pulled it out and flipped it open. There was a picture of a girl about my age, but the photo looked old and grainy.

Whoever she was, she’d been a pretty girl with long brown hair and glasses resting on the tip of her nose, but the photo also captured an intense, frightened look in her eyes. Now even more curious, I shuffled through the file, stopping on a paper with notes written in Cromwell’s hand. Most of it, like the chick’s full name and any info that would reveal her identity, had been blacked out like in the other file.

There was still enough left for me to read, and what I learned shocked and confused the hell out of me.

Cromwell had really, really lied to me.

This girl had been a part of the Assimilation program, which had turned out to be a complete failure.

She’d been unable to control her gift and had committed suicide at the Facility.

She’d only been sixteen, and she’d been able to kill with a touch.

I closed her file, hands shaking. I really didn’t know how to process that. Someone else had been gifted like me? She’d killed herself because she couldn’t control it? I started to put her file back, but a cluster of papers slipped out and fell into my lap.

Just like with Hayden’s file, I didn’t really believe what I saw at first. But then, like everything else, it sank in slowly. Dizziness and nausea rushed through me. I dropped the file.

Newspapers clippings about Dad and his work at the hospital before the accident, articles I couldn’t bear to read after he’d died. A schedule was attached to the clipping—my sophomore year class schedule. But that wasn’t all; there were directions to my house, to Dad’s hospital, and… Oh, my God.

Attached to the newspaper clippings was a menu to Salt of the Sea, the restaurant I’d insisted on the night of the accident. Scribbled on it were several dates—the last of them, the date of the accident, was circled. Realization crept over me like cold fingers tracing down my spine. The papers slipped from my fingers.

Static filled my ears. For several long minutes, I couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe as my world fell out from underneath me.

No, no, no.

The handwriting—all of the stuff written—looked like Hayden’s scribble. He’d been watching way before he’d admitted—he had written the schedule, the directions, the date of the accident. It hadn’t been just Kurt or Cromwell. It’d been the three of them, maybe all of them.

Time seemed to stop, and then I sprang forward and gathered up the papers. My breath came out in short, little gasps. I needed to get out of here—get Mom, find Olivia. The buzzing in my ears made it hard to think, but all I knew—

“What are you doing?”

I shrieked, jumping to my feet and spinning around.

Hayden stood in the entrance of the study. Little streams of rain dripped from his hair, traveling down the side of his face. The ends of his hair curled around his temples and cheeks.

“Ember?”

My heart pounded so fast I swore my shirt fluttered.

“What are you doing in my father’s office?” He took one step into the room, then another. “Why did you leave school?”

I eyed the door behind him and tried to nudge the drawer shut. It wouldn’t budge. “I… I’m not doing anything.”

“Call me crazy, but I don’t believe you.” His gaze dropped over me, then behind me. His eyes narrowed. “You went through my father’s files?”

“N—no,” I stammered.

His eyes flicked up and bore into mine. “You went through our files, didn’t you?”

I didn’t answer, because really, what could I say at that point? So I stepped to the side, gauging the distance between the door and Hayden. I doubted I’d get past him.

“I wish you hadn’t done that.” There was controlled anger in his face, but there was also disappointment.

I needed time. I needed to ignore the way my heart was cracking open. The way I wanted to sit down and cry, because none of that would help. “Why does he even have files on all of us? Is that something normal? Is that what people do?”

“Do people skip school to snoop through stuff that isn’t theirs?” The coldness in his voice shocked me. Nothing reminded me of the boy from last night, the one who’d held me and kissed me like he… loved me the way I loved him.

I stepped back.

“Ember, what’s behind your back?”

I shook my head. Hayden stepped forward and I made my move. I don’t even know why I tried. I made a leaping run for the door, but Hayden caught me by the waist and hauled me back. “Let go of me!”

Capturing my wrists, he backed me against the wall and pinned me there, our bodies flush. The papers —the evidence—fluttered to the floor once more. “Not until you hear me out.”

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say!” I struggled not to let the tears fall, but they kept building and building. The sense of betrayal, the hurt, cut so deep I couldn’t breathe. “How could you?”

“Listen to me.” He pressed forward and dropped his head. “I could never hurt you. Don’t you understand that?”

I clamped my lips together and turned my head. He had hurt me. He’d ripped me apart.

“Em—”

“How could you?” I whispered. “How could you do that?” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It was an accident, Em. I didn’t understand what was happening—” I pushed off the wall, but he pushed back.

“Listen to me, Ember. I couldn’t hurt you. I can’t.” Hayden settled his eyes on me. They were softer than I’d ever seen. “I love you—I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you.” I froze. Only my chest moved as I dragged in heavy gulps of air.

“I’d convinced myself for the longest time that concern drove me to keep checking in on you. Each time I left Allentown, I told myself I wasn’t coming back. But I did. I couldn’t stay away. For two years I kept coming back. I had to make sure you were okay.” Hayden’s eyes drifted shut. “Dealing with your sister and your mom all alone, but you were so strong and so determined to make it. And the day—the day you went to the bank, I wanted so badly to talk to you—to hold you.”

My heart felt like it was breaking and swelling all at once. It left me reeling.

“I know— I know how crazy it sounds, but it’s like I came to know you. I knew you sketched when you were upset. I saw how much you loved your sister. How brave you were to keep going to that damn school. And all those times I watched you, I grew to know every one of your fake smiles. I never even heard you laugh. All I’ve ever wanted to do is help you, because maybe then, you’d smile once and really mean it.”

I shook my head, willing him to stop— just stop.

“I thought being around you would make it easier, but once I got to know you, really know you? I thought I’d loved you before.” He pressed his lips together, but he never looked away. Not once. “I had no clue. Everyone knows. My father wanted me to stay away from you, because he knew how I felt. And Kurt thinks my judgment is skewed—that I’ll lose control again.”

Had I misread the conversation I’d heard between Kurt and Liz? I’d assumed Kurt had been talking about Cromwell, but he only mentioned his name when I stopped listening. Did it matter?

“But I realized I’d never lose control, because of you—because I love you. That’s what I was trying to tell you last night, Ember. I love you.”

“Don’t,” I whispered, pleaded really. “Don’t tell me that.”

“But it’s true. It’s always been true.” His fingers flexed around my wrists, inching the sleeve down and exposing my skin.

“Hayden—”

“I’ve killed,” he said, his face constricting. “You have to know the truth, Em.”

I let out a sob. It had been him, always him.

“You can hate me forever, but it won’t change how I feel.”

His mouth came down on mine so hard, it stopped whatever I was about to say. This—this was so wrong, but when he released my wrists, I didn’t touch him like I should have. A speck of illogical trust flared alive in me. I grabbed a fistful of his wet sweater and pulled him to me.

Hayden made a low sound in his throat before his lips suddenly found mine again. His hands slipped to my hips, under my shirt. Desperately, the smart part in my brain screamed that this was wrong, but I pushed myself closer instead of away.

Then, when I thought I’d seriously lost my mind, his fingers brushed over the scar above my navel. It was a like a bucket of ice water thrown on me. I pushed—pushed hard.

“No—stop. I can’t do this.”

Hayden was breathing heavily. Although he didn’t look like he wanted to, he let go and stepped back.

“Em—”

“Don’t. I can’t do this!” I screamed, surprised by how pathetic I sounded. “You can’t love me. Do you know how twisted this sounds?”

He looked like I had physically wounded him, but it was nothing compared to what I felt.

“You need to let me leave here, Hayden. Please.”

Hayden shook his head. “You have to let me explain—”

“Explain what?” I cried. “You killed my father—you killed me, for chrissake!”

“What?” he gasped.

“I saw the papers, Hayden! I saw them. And you’ve basically admitted to it.”

His brows furrowed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I never admitted to causing that accident because I didn’t! How could you even think that?”

God, he sounded so honest, so genuine, like the words were tearing him apart. But the evidence—the evidence was right on the floor.

I dropped to my knees and grabbed for the menu, planning to shove it his face. “This is the menu to… to—I don’t understand.” I turned the menu over.

“It’s a menu to the Smoke Hole diner. And no, I don’t know how it got there.”

“No, no, no. This wasn’t a menu to the diner!” I flipped it back and forth. “This is—was a menu to Salt of the Sea.”

“Obviously, it’s not, Ember.”

I looked up, shaking my head. Hayden’s arms were folded across his chest and he looked angry. “No.

There were dates written across the menu! The date of the accident was circled. It was in your handwriting! There were newspaper articles about my Dad, my school schedule—” I made a grab for them, only to find out that they, too, weren’t what I’d previously seen.

The article clippings were of Cromwell’s election. The schedule was council meetings. The directions were to Morgantown. “I don’t understand. This isn’t what I saw!”

“I didn’t touch those papers.”

“I know—I know you didn’t.” I dropped them and sat back. Hayden hadn’t been talking about the car crash when he’d said he’d killed people. Oh, God. He’d been talking about the fire and… and I’d yelled at him—demanded how he could’ve done that.

“Ember, what’s going on with you? Dammit, was this why you wanted to drive to school by yourself today? So you could sneak through our stuff?”

I dropped my head into my hands. None of this made sense. I know what I saw and yet, it wasn’t there.

“And still after everything, you don’t trust me. You really think that I would have ever hurt you or your family? That I could have done something like that?” He gave a harsh laugh. “Wait. What am I saying?

You read my file. You know why I was in foster care. So yeah, I guess you’d think I’d murdered your father, too.”

“No.” I moved my hands away from my face. “You didn’t murder your parents. It was an accident.

You didn’t know how to control your gift. You’re not a killer, Hayden.”

He stared down at me silently.

“I… I think I’m losing my mind. I really am.”

The anger faded from his face, replaced by concern. He crouched and gently grasped my shoulders.

“Ember, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry I said those things to you. I don’t know what I was thinking. I know what I saw, but it isn’t there anymore. I’m sorry—I’m sorry about what happened to your family.

It’s not your fault.”

“Forget about that. Are you feeling okay?”

I laughed, because honestly, I felt funny. My brain was processing everything wrong. I was far from being okay. Either my mind had played a horrible trick on me or I was crazy.

“Em?” He ran his fingers over my cheek. Just a simple, gentle touch and it pierced my heart. How could he ever forgive me for this? “Em, you don’t look so good.”

“I have a headache.” In fact, I’d had a headache ever since English class. “I want to leave. Can we just leave?”

Hayden stared a moment, then nodded. We stopped long enough to change into dry clothes before climbing into his SUV. He leaned forward, running his arm over the fogged windshield. “Em, did you feel anything strange before you looked at those papers?”

“No.” I stared out the window. “Just a headache, but I haven’t eaten.”

Hayden stopped at the end of the driveway. “Do you want to get something to eat, then? We can talk about what you saw.”

I nodded. We traveled down the rural highway in silence until I couldn’t stand not knowing what he thought or apologizing to him again. “Hayden, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have read your file. That’s your personal stuff. “

“I would’ve told you, Em. I just didn’t know how to. I thought you’d—Shit!” He slammed on the brakes.

I jerked forward. There was a black car—two-door. Not a Porsche, but it looked familiar, and it was right in the middle of the road.

The tires slipped over the rain-soaked road, losing traction as Hayden whipped the steering wheel into the spin-out. We’d been going too fast to stop so suddenly. The car spun into the other lane, going up on two tires and we sort of hung there in the air for a second. In that pause, my brain flipped back two years.

I heard Hayden curse.

And then we were flung to the side as the SUV rolled. An explosion of white and dust threw me back into the seat. My heart stopped and my lungs seized the moment we came down on the driver’s side, then the roof, then my side. The crash jarred every bone in my body. The air flew from my lungs and my head hit the window with a disgusting thud.

A crack sounded as the SUV took another nasty flip. I couldn’ t even scream. It was like being trapped in haunting memory that wouldn’t relinquish control. My head slammed into the window again and this time the glass shattered under the impact.

Something metallic ripped and pressed into me as we skidded off the road and slid across the field, finally coming to rest on the driver’s side.

I remained still for minutes, stunned and barely able to breathe. Blood, wet and warm, trickled down the side of my head. Something poked into my right leg, leaving it numb. I tried to look around, but the movement hurt. Over the radio, I could hear the tires spinning.

Miraculously, I was still held by my seatbelt and I was alive, I was— Hayden. I didn’t hear him, couldn’t see him.

Frantic, I ignored the waves of red-hot pain and pushed at the airbag until I could see around me. The driver’s airbag had deflated. Hayden lay against the crushed door, motionless and covered in blood.

And through all that blood, he was pale so, so pale.

“Hayden!” I pitched forward, but the seatbelt yanked me back. “Hayden! Wake up! Please—oh, God.

Please be alive.” My fingers, drenched in blood, slipped over the latch.

He didn’t move. I couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, and I couldn’t get the seatbelt undone. Panic poured through me, screams filled my ears. Someone had to help us, right? Hayden had to be alive— he had to be.

This couldn’t be happening again. No. No, not all over—

The passenger door yanked open, startling me. I stopped struggling, stopped screaming. Someone was here to help. Everything was going to be okay.

Arms reached down, wrapping around my waist while a hand felt for the seatbelt. I was too relieved to even think about what would happen if they touched me. I couldn’t tear my eyes off Hayden to even look to see who was pulling me out of the car. I was hoisted into the air for a second, and rain beat down on my face, mixing with tears. “Please help him! Please!”

Then nothing was holding me.

I hit the wet, unforgiving ground hip-first. Fresh, new pain stole my breath. I rolled onto my back, squinting through the sheets of icy rain at the dark shadow towering over me. Slowly, I lifted my head. I recognized the body—the face—as someone I trusted, someone who would help us.

“Please help him,” I whispered, crawling onto my knees.

Without any warning, a booted foot connected with my head. Everything went white, then black.