his attention back to Mom. “Should condolences be offered for your loss?”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but my mother’s face tightened, flashing crimson. Her eyes narrowed and she looked pissed enough to chew steel. The paper bag hit my chest. I fumbled for it, just managing to hug it to my gut, simultaneously, knocking the wind out of myself.
“Get in the car, Fallon!” my mother hissed through her teeth, her sparking gaze never leaving Isaiah.
“Wait!” I protested. “He said he knew Dad!”
Mom bristled. “He doesn’t!”
“I do.” Isaiah countered challengingly.
I was sure my eyebrows touched my hairline.
“Just get in the car!” my mother barked, tearing her eyes away from Isaiah to grill them into me.
“You can’t keep hiding this from her,” Isaiah folded his arms over his chest and fixed Mom with a deadpan stare. “She deserves the truth, don’t you think, Diana?”
“The truth about what?” I demanded at once. “What the hell is going on? Who is this guy and why does he keep calling you Diana?”
“Because that’s her name,” Isaiah answered, ignoring Mom’s deep growl.
I shook my head, a little harder then was necessary and nearly staggered at the head rush it caused. “No, her name is Erin. You have the wrong person.”
His eyes narrowed and a malicious sort of smirk curled his lips. “Do I now, Erin? Is that why you tried to run me off the road? Were you hoping you could get rid of me that easily? You know I can’t die.”
“Leave her alone, Isaiah,” my mother murmured quietly. “She’s not a part of this anymore.”
“A part of what?” My shout went ignored as the two faced each other down.
“You can’t run anymore!” Isaiah hissed his lips curled back over straight, white teeth. “They know about her and they’re coming. You’re putting her in danger, and I won’t let you!”
Mom shook her head, almost as hard as I had earlier, but the dazed look in her eyes had nothing to do with a head rush; it was fear. “We’ll leave the country… they’ll never find her—”
“They will!” Isaiah said tightly. “She’s becoming unstable. How do you think they found her last night?”
More than hating people who answered a question with a question, I hated people who talked about me as though I wasn’t there. I was there. I could hear them and they had all but forgotten about me.
“Hello!” I waved one arm while holding the paper bag with the other. “I’m still here! Someone answer me!”
“No,” my mother whispered, still not hearing me. “She was supposed to be safe…”
“She will be,” Isaiah promised, voice softening. “I promise you that. I will never let anything hurt her.”
Mom dropped her chin and rocked her head slowly side-to-side, squeezing her eyes closed. “I can’t…”
“What the hell is going on?” I finally screamed.
Isaiah turned to me, looking ready to say something, but he seemed to think better of it and turned back to my mother. “They’re not far behind. You’re almost out of time, you know that.”
Instead of answering him, Mom lifted her head and stared at me. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and appeared enormous against her pale face. Seeing her so torn and in pain only intensified my need to do something, to protect her. But I had no idea what I was protecting her from.
“What’s going on, Mom?” I whispered, practically pleading with her to answer me.
But she didn’t. She just stared for what felt like hours before she finally came to some private conclusion.
She turned to Isaiah, looking somehow more put-together and determined than before. “Keep away from her, Isaiah. She’s my daughter and I’ll take care of her. I don’t need… him or you.” She stalked around the Impala. “Get in the car, Fallon,” she said over her shoulder, never glancing back.
I continued to stand there staring at Isaiah, while he stared back at me, long after the driver’s side door
I had no idea what he was talking about, but my mother’s face tightened, flashing crimson. Her eyes narrowed and she looked pissed enough to chew steel. The paper bag hit my chest. I fumbled for it, just managing to hug it to my gut, simultaneously, knocking the wind out of myself.
“Get in the car, Fallon!” my mother hissed through her teeth, her sparking gaze never leaving Isaiah.
“Wait!” I protested. “He said he knew Dad!”
Mom bristled. “He doesn’t!”
“I do.” Isaiah countered challengingly.
I was sure my eyebrows touched my hairline.
“Just get in the car!” my mother barked, tearing her eyes away from Isaiah to grill them into me.
“You can’t keep hiding this from her,” Isaiah folded his arms over his chest and fixed Mom with a deadpan stare. “She deserves the truth, don’t you think, Diana?”
“The truth about what?” I demanded at once. “What the hell is going on? Who is this guy and why does he keep calling you Diana?”
“Because that’s her name,” Isaiah answered, ignoring Mom’s deep growl.
I shook my head, a little harder then was necessary and nearly staggered at the head rush it caused. “No, her name is Erin. You have the wrong person.”
His eyes narrowed and a malicious sort of smirk curled his lips. “Do I now, Erin? Is that why you tried to run me off the road? Were you hoping you could get rid of me that easily? You know I can’t die.”
“Leave her alone, Isaiah,” my mother murmured quietly. “She’s not a part of this anymore.”
“A part of what?” My shout went ignored as the two faced each other down.
“You can’t run anymore!” Isaiah hissed his lips curled back over straight, white teeth. “They know about her and they’re coming. You’re putting her in danger, and I won’t let you!”
Mom shook her head, almost as hard as I had earlier, but the dazed look in her eyes had nothing to do with a head rush; it was fear. “We’ll leave the country… they’ll never find her—”
“They will!” Isaiah said tightly. “She’s becoming unstable. How do you think they found her last night?”
More than hating people who answered a question with a question, I hated people who talked about me as though I wasn’t there. I was there. I could hear them and they had all but forgotten about me.
“Hello!” I waved one arm while holding the paper bag with the other. “I’m still here! Someone answer me!”
“No,” my mother whispered, still not hearing me. “She was supposed to be safe…”
“She will be,” Isaiah promised, voice softening. “I promise you that. I will never let anything hurt her.”
Mom dropped her chin and rocked her head slowly side-to-side, squeezing her eyes closed. “I can’t…”
“What the hell is going on?” I finally screamed.
Isaiah turned to me, looking ready to say something, but he seemed to think better of it and turned back to my mother. “They’re not far behind. You’re almost out of time, you know that.”
Instead of answering him, Mom lifted her head and stared at me. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and appeared enormous against her pale face. Seeing her so torn and in pain only intensified my need to do something, to protect her. But I had no idea what I was protecting her from.
“What’s going on, Mom?” I whispered, practically pleading with her to answer me.
But she didn’t. She just stared for what felt like hours before she finally came to some private conclusion.
She turned to Isaiah, looking somehow more put-together and determined than before. “Keep away from her, Isaiah. She’s my daughter and I’ll take care of her. I don’t need… him or you.” She stalked around the Impala. “Get in the car, Fallon,” she said over her shoulder, never glancing back.
I continued to stand there staring at Isaiah, while he stared back at me, long after the driver’s side door
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