I slid my back down the wall until I was seated on the floor, then tipped my head against the wall. In all honesty, I couldn't stay here tonight. I had to get home. It was wrong to stay here alone with Patch, vow of prudence or not. I had to report the bag lady's body. Or did I? How was I supposed to report a vanished body? Talk about insane-which was the terrifying direction my thoughts were starting to go anyway.
Not wanting to dwell on the insanity idea, I concentrated on my original argument. I couldn't stay here knowing Vee was with Elliot, in danger, when I was safe.
After a moment's consideration I decided I needed to rephrase that thought. Safe was a relative term. As long as Patch was around, I wasn't in harm's way, but that didn't mean I thought he was going to act like my guardian angel, either.
Right away, I wished I could take back the guardian angel thought. Summoning up my powers of persuasion, I banished all thoughts of angels-guardian, fallen, or otherwise-from my head. I told myself I probably was going insane. For all I knew, I'd hallucinated seeing the bag lady die. And I'd hallucinated seeing Patch's scars.
The water stopped, and a moment later Patch strolled out wearing only his wet jeans hanging low on his waist. He left the bathroom candle lit and the door wide. Soft color glowed through the room.
One quick look and I could tell Patch clocked several hours a week running and lifting weights. A body that defined didn't come without sweat and work. Suddenly I felt a little self-conscious. Not to mention soft.
'Which side of the bed do you want?' he asked.
'Uh…'
A fox smile. 'Nervous?'
'No,' I said as confidently as possible under the circumstances. And the circumstances were that I was lying through my teeth.
'You're a bad liar,' he said, still smiling. 'The worst I've seen.'
I put my hands on my hips and communicated a silent Excuse me?
'Come here,' he said, pulling me to my feet. I felt my earlier promise of resistance melting away. Another ten seconds of standing this close to Patch and my defense would be blown to smithereens.
A mirror hung on the wall behind him, and over his shoulder I saw the upside-down V scars gleaming black on his skin.
My whole body went rigid. I tried to blink the scars away, but they were there for good.
Without thinking, I slid my hands up his chest and around to his back. A fingertip brushed his right scar.
Patch tensed under my touch. I froze, the tip of my finger quivering on his scar. It took me a moment to realize it wasn't actually my finger moving, but me. All of me.
I was sucked into a soft, dark chute and everything went black.
Chapter 23
I was standing in the lower level of Bo's Arcade with my back to the wall, facing several games of pool. The windows were boarded, and I couldn't tell if it was day or night. Stevie Nicks was coming through the speakers; the song about the white-winged dove and being on the edge of seventeen. Nobody seemed surprised by my sudden appearance out of thin air.
And then I remembered I was wearing nothing but a cami and panties. I'm not all that vain, but standing in a crowd composed entirely of the opposite sex, my essentials barely covered, and nobody even looked at me? Something was… off.
I pinched myself. Perfectly alive, as far as I could tell.
Waving a hand to clear away the hazy cloud of cigar smoke, I spotted Patch across the room. He was sitting at a poker table, kicked back, holding a hand of cards close to his chest.
I padded barefoot across the room, crossing my arms over my chest, making sure to keep myself covered. 'Can we talk?' I hissed in his ear. There was an unnerved quality to my voice. Understandable, since I had no idea how I'd come to find myself at Bo's. One moment I was at the motel, and the next I was here.
Patch pushed a short stack of poker chips into the pile at the center of the table.
'Like maybe wow?' I said. 'It's kind of urgent…' I trailed off when the calendar on the wall caught my eye. It was eight months behind, showing August of last year. Right before I started sophomore year. Months before I met Patch. I told myself it was a mistake, that whoever was in charge of ripping off the old months had fallen behind, but at the same time I briefly and unwillingly considered the possibility that the calendar was right where it was supposed to be. And I was not.
I dragged a chair over from the next table and pulled up beside Patch. 'He's holding a five of spades, a nine of spades, the ace of hearts…' I stopped when I realized that no one was paying attention. No, it wasn't that. No one could see me.
Footsteps lumbered down the stairs across the room, and the same cashier who'd threatened to throw me out the first time I'd come to the arcade appeared at the bottom of the stairwell.
'Someone upstairs wants a word with you,' he told Patch.
Patch raised his eyebrows, transmitting a silent question.
'She wouldn't give her name,' the cashier said apologetically. 'I asked a couple of times. I told her you were in a private game, but she wouldn't leave. I can throw her out if you want.'
'No. Send her down.'
Patch played out his hand, gathered his chips, and pushed out of his chair. 'I'm out.' He walked to the pool table closest to the stairs, rested against it, and slid his hands inside his pockets.
I followed him across the room. I snapped my fingers in front of his face. I kicked his boots. I flat-out smacked his chest. He didn't flinch, didn't move.
Light footsteps sounded on the stairs, growing closer, and when Miss Greene stepped out of the darkened stairwell, I experienced a moment of confusion. Her blond hair was down to her waist and toothpick straight. She was wearing painted-on jeans and a pink tank top, and she was barefoot. Dressed this way, she looked even closer to my age. She was sucking on a lollipop.
Patch's face is always a mask, and at any given moment I have no idea what he's thinking. But as soon as he locked eyes on Miss Greene, I knew he was surprised. He recovered quickly, all emotion tunneling away as his eyes turned guarded and wary. 'Dabria?'
My heart hit a faster cadence. I tried to wrestle my thoughts together, but all I could think was, if I was really eight months in the past, how did Miss Greene and Patch know each other? She didn't have a job at school yet. And why was he calling her by her first name?
'How have you been?' Miss Greene-Dabria-asked with a coy smile, tossing the lollipop in the trash.
'What are you doing here?' Patch's eyes turned even more watchful, as if he didn't think 'what you see is what you get' applied to Dabria.
'I sneaked out.' Her smile twisted up on one side. 'I had to see you again. I've been trying for a long time, but security-well, you know. It's not exactly lax. Your kind and my kind-we aren't supposed to mix. But you know that.'
'Coming here was a bad idea.'
'I know it's been a while, but I was hoping for a slightly more friendly reaction,' she said, pushing her lips out in a pout.
Patch didn't answer.
'I haven't stopped thinking about you.' Dabria dimmed her voice to a low, sexy pitch and took a step closer to Patch. 'It wasn't easy getting down here. Lucianna is making excuses for why I'm absent. I'm risking her future as well as my own. Don't you want to at least hear what I have to say?'
'Talk.' Patch's words didn't hold a shred of trust.
'I haven't given up on you. This whole time-' She broke off and blinked back a sudden display of tears. When she spoke again, her voice was more composed but still held a wavering note. 'I know how you can get your wings back.'
She smiled at Patch, but he didn't return the smile.
'As soon as you get your wings back, you can come home,' she said, speaking more confidently. 'Everything
