Cursed

“We should head back, Ember. In the morning, we’ll try to figure it. My brain is too fried right now.”

My head jerked up. Hayden sounded different, off. I climbed off the bed and waited while he extinguished the candles. He kept his back to me the entire time, not speaking. My nerves were like a tight bundle in the pit of my stomach, unraveling with each passing second we didn’t talk.

I pulled the hood up and hunkered down in the hoodie once we stepped out into the near-freezing night air. Overhead, the moon peeked through the naked branches while we headed back to the house in silence.

Each glimpse of Hayden I snuck, my stomach rolled. His face was set in hard lines, closed-off and distant.

He stared straight ahead, and never once did I feel his gaze on me. It was like those precious moments in the cabin, when he’d admitted how much he wanted to kiss me, hadn’t even happened.

We stopped at the stairs, and I wasn’t ready to let this go. “I want to talk about—”

“I know,” he said, “but I don’t want to. Not tonight. I’m beat. It’s late.”

“But—” He stepped forward, tipping his head down as he did so. “We can’t talk about this now. We’ll wake someone up. Go to bed, Ember. We’ll talk in the morning.”

I stepped back, my heart twisting. “Okay. Tomorrow morning, right?”

He nodded, and before I could say anything else, he disappeared down the hall.

Chapter 19

I didn’t see Hayden in the morning or even that afternoon. Actually, I didn’t get a chance to see him at all Saturday—not for more than five seconds. I was damn sure he was avoiding me.

By Sunday afternoon, the momentary satisfaction of casting doubt on Cromwell and crew soured.

Hayden had always believed his adopted father’s involvement with the gifted was to do something good, but whoever had wanted Olivia had killed to try and get her. And whether Hayden liked it or not, the evidence pointed to one of his family members—one of the people he trusted.

When I saw him climb the stairs to the front porch, I’d just finished braiding the hair on Olivia’s doll.

Racing out of the room without a word, I threw the front door open, almost plowing it to him. He stood, one hand outstretched and eyes wide.

Phoebe was behind him, a carryout box in her manicured hand.

“Hey,” I gasped out, ignoring Phoebe’s curious stare.

Hayden took a step back. “Hey.”

“Can we talk?”

His lips pursed. “I have some things I—”

“Please.” I knew how I sounded and I didn’t care.

Phoebe glanced between us, and then she slinked past Hayden. “I’ll put this in the fridge for you.”

“Thanks,” Hayden answered, staring down at me. He inhaled and let it out slowly. “Okay, but I don’t have long. Walk?”

I nodded, following him down the steps and toward the tree line. I couldn’t believe it’d only been two days since I’d talked to him. It felt like years. Spending time with Olivia had been okay, but I missed Hayden. The moment we cleared the house, I opened my mouth.

“Are you mad at me?” I hadn’t wanted to say that.

He stared straight ahead. “Is that why you wanted to talk to me?”

Okay. His voice sounded different—maybe even cold—but no big deal. “No, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Then what?”

My brain sort of emptied that moment. Hayden stopped walking, turned and faced me. His arms were folded across his chest and he waited. Waited for me to say whatever I wanted to say so… so he could leave. Well, this wasn’t going as planned. Not that I had a plan.

“Did you go have lunch with Phoebe?” I stalled.

Hayden nodded.

A hollow feeling opened up in my chest. Stupid, but all I could think was that he never took me to lunch. Not when we were out of school.

“Ember?”

I swallowed. “I wanted to talk about what I told you in the cabin.”

“The thing about your parents knowing about Olivia’s gift?” He stared above my head.

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about it. A lot actually, and I know what I heard.” I saw the moment he decided he didn’t want to talk about this. It was in his eyes—they went all dark. I plunged ahead. “These things have to be connected. You believe someone caused the accident to get to Olivia. Now, someone is sticking stuff in my locker. Like… like they want me to leave or something.”

“There’s no way of knowing if those two things are related.”

“You can’t be serious! You know the two things are connected.”

“What are you getting at, Ember? That my family is not only behind cutting up dead animals and leaving them in your locker, but also caused your car accident?”

“Yes.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Look, I know that you don’t trust them. I get that. Really, I do, but I know my family. I know them. They wouldn’t do something like that, because they aren’t horrible people.

And what was done to your family—to you—was horrible.”

“Then can you tell me who else to blame?” I practically yelled. “You said it yourself, Hayden. My parents wouldn’t know who to go to.”

“That doesn’t mean it was my family.”

“Oh. So the fact that you broke into my home, kidnapped us, and brought us here isn’t at all suspicious to you? That no one was interested in Olivia until Aunt Liz sensed me? Bullshit.”

“Ember.”

“No.” I pushed a hand through my hair wildly. I knew my curls had to be standing up every which way, but I didn’t care. “The note on that toy car—‘dead things should stay dead?’ And then again on the noose—” Hayden’s eyes narrowed. “What noose?”

Whoops. I took a step back. “That’s not important. What’s important is how anyone else in the world could know about that.”

“I’ve thought about this,” he said after several long moments of silence. “It’s not like I’ve ignored the obvious, but I can’t—I won’t— believe my family had anything to do with it. I’m sorry, Ember, but instead of spending time obsessing over how evil my family is, we could be figuring who really is behind this.”

“Oh. Is that what you’ve been doing? Working to prove your family’s innocence? Well, good luck with that.”

The scent of something burning surrounded me, and Hayden’s lips thinned and now his eyes were all black. I knew I’d struck low. “Are you done yet?”

“No.”

“I am.” Then he was walking away.

“Hayden!” I yelled, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes.

He stopped, but didn’t turn around.

My heart leapt into my throat. “Do you regret what happened in the cabin?”

I didn’t have to explain it any better than that. By the way he stiffened, he knew I was talking about his admission and how we had clung to each other, desperately wanting more.

“No. That’s not what I regret,” he said.

And then he was gone and I stood there, staring at the place he’d been—alone with the cold knowledge that things had altered between us and I had no idea where it left me.