Intertwined

CHAPTER 20

Of course, Mary Ann’s package came at seven that evening, the last delivery of the day. Her dad was home, in his office, probably poring over his notes about Aden, trying to think up a rational reason he’d been able to claim a friendship with Mary Ann years before he’d actually met her.

She was about to open the package when she realized Penny was tentatively scaling the steps.

“Hey,” Penny said.

Mary Ann froze.

They stood facing each other for an eternity, silent, unsure. Mary Ann had avoided her so steadfastly, her friend had eventually stopped calling, stopped seeking her out at school. Or maybe Penny hadn’t been there. Sadly, she couldn’t be sure. She’d been too preoccupied.

“Hey,” Penny said again.

“Hey.”

Penny gazed down at her hands, fingers twisting together. She looked awful. Defeated. How long had it been since Mary Ann had seen the girl’s usual sparkle?

“How are you?” Mary Ann asked, not knowing what else to say.

“I could be better. Morning sickness has been a bitch.” That flat tone hurt more than it should have, all things considered. “My parents want me to get rid of the baby.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.” A sigh. “I don’t think so. I hate Tucker, but the baby is also a part of me, you know? I want it. I think.”

Tucker was a demon. Would that mean the child Penny carried also carried that taint? She’d wondered before, but now, with Penny right in front of her, that didn’t seem to matter. “That’s good.” Yes or no, a baby was a baby. Innocent and precious.

Silence met her words, heavy, oppressive.

“I miss us,” Penny suddenly burst out. “I want us to be the way we were. I’m so sorry for what I did to you. I was drinking, but that’s no excuse. I knew better. Oh, God, Mary Ann. I’m so sorry.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “You have to believe me.”

Mary Ann waited for the sense of betrayal to surface, but it never did. For all she knew, Tucker could have used his power of illusion on her friend, making her more susceptible to him. Besides, she hated seeing Penny like this, so torn up, so beaten down.

“I believe you,” she said. “I don’t think we can go back to the way we were, not yet, but I do believe you.”

Penny regarded her for a moment, then whimpered and rushed forward, throwing herself against Mary Ann. Mary Ann gasped in surprise. But as Penny cried, she couldn’t help but hold her, tracing her free hand along her friend’s spine and uttering soothing coos.

As Riley had said, everyone made mistakes. This was Penny’s, and if Mary Ann wanted the girl in her life—and she was beginning to think that she did, for she, too, missed their friendship—she had to forgive.

“I’m so sorry. I swear I am. I’ll never do anything like that again. You can trust me. I learned my lesson. I swear to God I did.”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. I’m not mad at you anymore.”

Penny pulled back, though she kept her arms tight around Mary Ann’s middle. “You’re not?”

“You’re an important part of my life. I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to trust you again, but it no longer seems impossible.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Penny swiped at her face with the back of her wrist. “I know I don’t, and I know I should walk away from you and leave you in peace, but I just can’t. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You understand me in ways no one else ever has, and I’ve hated myself since this thing with Tucker. I wanted to tell you, I did, but I was so afraid of losing you.”

“You’re not going to lose me. I need you, too.” She saw that now. The tension that had settled on her shoulders since seeing all those creatures in town had just kind of melted away with Penny’s appearance. Was this how Mary Ann made Aden—and Tucker—feel? “Besides, you did me a favor. I’d needed to kick Tucker out of my life. You gave me the push to actually do it.”

That earned her a watery smile. “He is a jerk, isn’t he?”

“Beyond a doubt. Does he plan to help you—”

Penny was shaking her head before Mary Ann could finish the sentence. “He let me know he wants nothing to do with me or the kid.” Her chin trembled and the moisture in her eyes once again spilled over. “I’m on my own.”

“Well, you’ve got Aunt Mary Ann. I’ve never been around kids, but I’m willing to learn.”

She was awarded another smile, this one reminiscent of the old Penny. “I have to get back. I’m grounded for being a slut, as my mom says, but I want to get together with you soon. I want to talk.”

“Absolutely. I want to hear all about the baby.”

Penny rubbed the slight bump in her belly, one Mary Ann hadn’t noticed before. “I love you, girl.” She kissed her cheek and walked away, her step much lighter than when she’d first approached.

Mary Ann watched her until she disappeared inside her house. What a day.

She opened the package eagerly, wishing Aden, Riley and Victoria were with her so they could share this moment together. But she still hadn’t heard from the latter two, and didn’t want to contact the first without news of their friends.

When she read over Aden’s birth certificate, she made note of the hospital where he’d been born—St. Mary’s—the names of his parents—Joe and Paula Stone—as well as his birthday—December twelfth. Funny. Her birthday was December twelfth, as well.

She read over her own certificate next. Shook her head. Stared. The words never changed. She stumbled backward, reeling. This wasn’t right. Couldn’t be right. She’d never thought to ask her dad where she’d been born, but she, too, had entered the world at St. Mary’s. Worse, the woman she’d called Mom her entire life was not her mother after all.

Everything suddenly made sense. How she could look like the woman who had raised her, but not be that woman’s biological child. How her dad had had two wives.

The warm fuzzies that had filled her while talking to Penny faded completely, leaving a deep chasm filled only with rage. Mary Ann was having trouble catching her breath as she stormed inside her dad’s office, each of her limbs trembling. There was a ringing in her ears as the blood rushed, crashing against her skull.

He glanced up, saw her and immediately dropped the journal he held, concern deepening the lines around his eyes. “What’s wrong, honey?”

Waiting to talk with her dad until he couldn’t escape her or order her away was no longer an option. She had to have the truth. Now. “Explain this,” she shouted, slamming the certificate onto his desk.

He looked at it and froze, even stopped breathing, his chest no longer moving. Several long, agonizing beats of silence ensued. “Where did you get that?” he asked softly.

“Doesn’t matter. Why don’t you tell me why Aunt Anne is my mother, yet you had her sister raise me as her own?” He’d never told her, never even hinted that her aunt, the one she’d never met, the one who had supposedly died before her birth, was actually her biological mother.

Her dad’s head fell into his upraised hands. He stayed like that, hunched over, for a long while. Silent, dejected. Finally, he said, “I didn’t want you to know. I still don’t.”

“But you’re going to tell me. Right. Now!” It was a demand, not a question. Fury and hurt seethed so violently inside her that she couldn’t stay still. She paced the room from one side to the other, feet digging into the carpet, pounding against the wood. It was as though the entire expanse of the sky was under her skin right now, making her more than human, making her infinite, while she looked down at everyone, seeing everything clearly for the first time in her life.

“Please, sit down. Let’s talk about this like rational human beings.”

She was anything but rational just then. “I’ll stand. You talk.”

He uttered a shuddering sigh. “Does this really matter, Mary Ann? Carolyn was your mother in every way but biologically. She loved you, raised you, held you when you were sick.”

“And I loved her for it; I still do. But I deserve to know the truth. I deserve to know about my real mother.”

With another of those sighs, he fell back against his chair. He propped his elbow on the arm and rested his temple on one hand. He was pale, the blue veins beneath his skin visible. “I planned to tell you, I did. But I wanted to do so when you were older. Ready. What if you don’t like what you hear? What if, once you know, you wish I’d never told you?”

How dare he! “Stop trying to manipulate me. I may not have a degree, but I’ve read the psychology books you gave me. I am not some patient you can convince to believe as you do, then send on her way. I’m your daughter and I deserve to have what you’ve always promised me. Honesty.”

Once he absorbed her words, he nodded somberly. “All right, Mary Ann. I’ll tell you. Honestly. I just hope you’re ready.”

He paused, clearly waiting for her to tell him she wasn’t. When she didn’t, he briefly closed his eyes as if praying for guidance.

“I dated your mother—Carolyn, the woman who raised you,” he said, “while in high school. I was seventeen. I thought I loved her. Until I went home with her and met her younger sister, Anne. She was sixteen, the age you are now, and it was love at first sight. For both of us. I stopped dating Carolyn immediately. Anne and I weren’t going to see each other—that would have hurt Carolyn, and we both loved her in our ways. But we couldn’t stay away from each other and all too soon we were dating in secret.”

Mary Ann plopped into the seat in front of the desk. Though she was still a mess of turbulent emotions, her legs would no longer hold her up. This was too much to take in.

“Shall I continue?”

She nodded. Too much to take in, but she needed to hear the rest. Why had she never suspected? She didn’t even have a picture of Anne in her room. Had barely given the woman, her own mother, a passing thought over the years.

“The more time I spent with Anne, the more I realized she was a bit…unusual. She would disappear for hours and claim—”

Mary Ann’s gasp stopped him. “She would claim that she had traveled into a younger version of herself.”

His eyes widened; he nodded. “How did you—Aden,” he said through clenched teeth. “He’s been feeding you his lies, I see.”

No. Aden was the only one who’d given her the truth. “This isn’t about him. This is about you and the lies you’ve fed me for years. And I think we both know, deep down, that Aden wasn’t lying.”

“I thought I’d made it clear that I don’t want you hanging out with that boy, Mary Ann. He’s dangerous. He was dangerous as a child, beating up the other patients, the guards, and he’s dangerous as a teenager. Need proof of that? I did some digging. Found out he’s living at the D and M. Everyone knows those kids are bad news. Stay away from him.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do right now!” She slammed her fist against her chair. “I know him, better than you ever did, and he wouldn’t hurt me. Right now I think I know him better than I know you.”

He blanched. “People can turn on you. He—”

“He knew that I would meet him one day. He even told you that. But you, in your stubbornness, didn’t believe him. After your experiences with Anne, you’re the one person, the one doctor, who should have given Aden a chance to prove he’d told the truth. Yet you’re trying to discredit him even now, when the evidence supports him.”

Her dad waved a dismissive hand. “Once he had your name, all he had to do was look you up at a later date. Finding people isn’t difficult these days.”

So that was the rationale he had convinced himself of. And she’d once thought him the most intelligent man on earth. “So he waited five years to find me, just to freak you out? His knowing the name of my boyfriend before I started dating the guy was a coincidence, right?” She laughed without humor. “Stop stalling and tell me about my mother. Or so help me, I’ll go upstairs, pack my bag and leave. You will never see me again.”

He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it with a snap. She’d never threatened him like that, so he had no way of knowing if she’d actually see it through. She didn’t, either. Mad as she was, she thought she just might be able to do it.

He gave her a stiff nod. “Anne got pregnant while she was still in high school. Her family was upset, Carolyn most of all, and rightfully so. Anne ended up dropping out, and we got married. The only silver lining was that she stopped disappearing once she was pregnant with you. I thought impending motherhood had changed her. We were so happy those days despite the shotgun wedding. Then your mother began to weaken. No one knew why. She was so weak, in fact, we thought she’d lose you. But she didn’t. She held on. Then you were born and Anne…she…she…died, immediately afterwards. The doctors couldn’t explain it. She didn’t have any condition that placed her at high risk and hadn’t weakened further, but the moment they placed you in her arms, she just sort of drifted away from us.”

He’d done the right thing, marrying her birth mom, whom he’d loved. Despite everything, Mary Ann was proud of him for that. Tucker wasn’t doing the same for Penny. Not that many teenagers would.

Her dad cleared his throat, his chin trembling. “There I was, this eighteen-year-old kid with a baby to raise on his own. As you know, neither of your grandparents are the most supportive of people, so they wanted nothing to do with us. The only person who would help me was Carolyn, but again, her parents hated me, blamed me for Anne’s fall from grace and eventual death. So we raised you together. She had always wanted marriage, still loved me, so I did it, I married her.

“I never stopped loving Anne, though, and Carolyn knew it. I didn’t deserve her, but still she stayed with me. I owed her so much and she loved you as if you were her own. She was afraid if you knew, you wouldn’t love her as much, that you, too, would love Anne more. I promised her I wouldn’t tell you, and until now, I kept my word.”

So many things made sense now. And yet her entire world had crumbled around her, ceasing to exist, building itself up as something different, something foreign. Truth now, rather than lies.

She’d just forgiven one friend for betraying her, and now she was faced with another betrayal. From someone who was supposed to protect her in all things, someone who had encourage her always to tell the truth, no matter how painful.

Mary Ann pushed to legs that still didn’t want to hold her up. “I’m going upstairs to pack my bag. I’m not running away,” she assured her dad when he jumped up. “I just need a little time. I’ll stay with a friend. I need to do this, and you owe it to me.”

His shoulders slumped. He was in his thirties, but just then he looked like a used up old man on the verge of death. “Which friend? What about school? What about work?”

“I don’t know yet, but don’t worry. I won’t miss a day of school. Work, though, I’m going to call in sick.” And it wouldn’t be a lie. She’d never been so heartsick.

“Take the car, at least.”

“No, I—”

He held up his hand, cutting her off. “Take the car or stay here. Those are your only options.” He reached into his desk, withdrew the key and tossed it at her.

She missed and had to bend over to pick it up. Her muscles were protesting so violently she almost couldn’t stand back up.

“Take this, too,” he said. He unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk. This time he pulled out a yellowed notebook. “It was your mother’s. Anne’s.”

All this time, he’d had something of her mother’s, her real mother’s, and he’d kept it from her. She claimed it with a shaky hand, wanting to hate him. Silent, she left the office and went to her room to pack. Her backpack was lighter than normal, as it was usually filled with books rather than clothing, but it weighed her down more than ever.

As she drove away, the house she’d lived in most of her life fading from the rearview mirror, tears poured down her cheeks, hot and unceasing. She mourned the mother she’d never met, the father she’d thought she had known, and the innocence that had once surrounded her.

She wanted to blame her dad for it all, but she couldn’t, not after reading between the lines of his story. She might very well have killed her mother.

Like Aden, her mother had been able to time travel. That meant, also like Aden, her mother had possessed a supernatural ability. Mary Ann negated those abilities. The moment of her conception, her mother had stopped time traveling. That was fact. During the nine months she’d been inside her mother’s womb, she’d weakened her, draining her strength bit by bit. Also fact. And then, the moment of her birth, her mother had simply stopped being. Because of her?

For hours she drove, fighting to get herself under control—and losing. The journal taunted her. She circled the neighborhood, then drove past the D and M, stopping, realizing she was too emotional to go inside, then backtracking to her own neighborhood. The moon was high, golden. Traffic was thinning by the minute, as were the number of people working on their yards or simply relaxing outside. But what hid in the shadows, waiting to strike? She was afraid of the answer.

She spotted the wolf running alongside the car a few miles from her house. She recognized the black fur, the glowing green eyes, and pulled to the side of the road. Good thing she’d stopped. The tears blurred her vision. Worse, there was a sob lodged in her throat, one she couldn’t rid herself of. It was there, scraping against her voice box, sharp and burning, as if covered in acid.

Wait for me, Riley told her inside her head.

She couldn’t. She needed him, but she also needed to be alone. Most of all, she needed…she didn’t know what. To get away, to forget. Mary Ann jumped from the car and just started running. Running from what she’d learned, running from the pain and the uncertainty. Tears continued to pour from her. The wolf gave chase, paws slapping against the ground.

He caught up to her and jumped on her back, knocking her to the ground. She lay there, without breath and unable to move. Dangerous out here, he said in her mind. Go back to the car. Now.

He was right, she knew he was, but she stayed where she was, sobbing, choking. His warm tongue stroked her cheek, the corner of her eye.

Please, Mary Ann. You don’t want to face a goblin.

She nodded and stood, then tripped her way back to the car. He didn’t hop in as she expected but trotted into nearby trees. Only a few minutes passed before he reappeared in human form. He wore a wrinkled shirt and pair of slacks, both obviously pulled on hastily. Hinges squeaked as he entered, and then the lock clicked into place when he was settled.

“I’m sorry if you were hurt back there,” he said. “Like I said, goblins are out tonight and I didn’t want them to catch your scent. My brethren are tracking them, and I didn’t want you in their sights, either.”

She turned on him. “Where have you been?” The words were a screech, blazing from her, followed quickly by another sob. Her entire body shook with it, not stopping, only increasing in intensity until she was once again choking, gagging, lost to the grief and the anger. At herself, her father.

“Hey, hey,” Riley said, lifting her out of the seat and onto his lap. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Tell me.”

Sweetheart. He’d called her sweetheart. It was so wonderful, so welcome, yet it made her cry even harder. Between sobs, she told him what she’d learned. He cradled her the entire time, soothing her with his hands, with the same little coos she’d given Penny. And then he was kissing her, his lips meshed against hers, his tongue warm and sweet and wild, his fingers tangled in her hair.

For a moment, lights illuminated them as a car drove past and they froze. But the moment darkness once more swathed them, they were kissing again. It, too, was wonderful and beautiful and hotter than anything she’d ever done. Her hands were tangled in his hair, his were tangled in hers. They were pressed against each other, soaking each other in. She felt safe, even though she was drowning in sensation, in him; she never wanted it to end. She wanted to linger, as he’d once told her to do.

“We have to stop,” he rasped.

Clearly they weren’t on the same page. “Don’t want to.” With his arms around her like this, she didn’t have to think, could only feel him and the happiness of being with him.

His thumb caressed her cheek. “Trust me. It’s for the best. We’re in a car and out in the open. But we can—will—pick this up later.”

Though she still wanted to protest, she nodded.

“Now, where were you headed?” he asked, his concern returning.

After a deep, shuddering breath, she said, “As soon as I got my emotions under control, I was going to the ranch where Aden lives. I was going to somehow sneak him out and drive him to where his parents live. Or used to live. Did I tell you we were born at the same hospital on the same day?”

“No.” Riley’s head tilted to the side and his hands, which were still wound around her, stopped drawing circles on her back. “That’s odd.”

“I know.”

“And significant, I’m sure.”

“I agree. It can’t be a simple coincidence. After we visit his parents, I want to go to the hospital where he—we—were born.”

“I’ll go with you. Victoria is on her way to Aden’s now. We can pick them both up.” He opened the door and emerged, easily lifting her with him, then walked around and settled her in the passenger seat. “I’ll drive.”

When he was behind the wheel, she said, “Where did you go when we split? I was worried.”

The engine revved and he eased onto the now empty road. He drove so easily it was as if the car were simply an extension of himself. “I had to help Victoria with a problem. And I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he added, twining their fingers and lifting her hand to his lips, “I still can’t tell you what that problem is. Victoria hasn’t told Aden and he should be the first to know.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Of course.”

He flicked her a glance, his eyes darkening, his lips slightly swollen and red—probably mirrors of hers. “You amaze me. Anyone else would be tossing a stream of questions or accusations my way, hoping to break me.”

“Not my style.” Or hadn’t been until today. People revealed their secrets when they were ready. Pushing them only gave birth to bitterness. As for her dad’s secrets, he might not have been ready to reveal them and he might resent her later, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. They’d never truly belonged to him.

“For what it’s worth, your father loves you,” Riley said, clearly catching the crux of her thoughts. “That makes you very lucky. I have no parents. They died not long after my birth, so I was raised by Victoria’s father, who believes boys should be warriors, weakness not something to be tolerated. I learned to fight with all manner of weapons at the age of five and killed my first enemy at the age of eight. And when I was injured…” Red stained his cheeks. He looked away from her, cleared his throat. “There was no one to hold me, no one to kiss me and make me better.”

She would, she decided. From then on, she would be there to comfort him. As he had comforted her this night. As Carolyn had done for her. Knowing he had endured such a terrible childhood only intensified her feelings for him. To have never received a hug or had someone to pat him on the head and tell him how wonderful he was, was criminal. To force him to war, even more so.

Despite the lies, she realized she was lucky to have had her childhood, her parents.

“You amaze me,” she said. And he liked her. He’d admitted it, kissed her. What did that mean for them, though? “Do you think…could you…has one of your kind ever…you know, dated one of mine?”

His hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles leaching of color. “No. Werewolves live much longer than humans, so dating one is considered the epitome of stupid.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t hide her disappointment. She’d hoped. And had been looking forward to being stupid.

“But we will find a way to do so,” he said.

“Oh,” she said again, but this time she was smiling.