romeo remeemed

chapter 25

ariel

Smile and lie, smile and lie, smile and lie. The mantra is a hand to hold as I cross the parking lot of the Knight and Day motel. I can feel his eyes on me, watching me from where he parked in the shade, determined not to let me out of his sight a second longer than necessary. Because he cares so much. Care. Love. As if he knows a damned thing about either. The black cloud teeming inside of me buzzes louder, a furious swarm of feeling that has drowned out even the screaming things. There’s no room inside my head for them now. Not when I’m so furious that my heart is on fire, that I move through a thick, suffocating fog of hate as I make my way to room fifty-three and lift my fist to knock on the door. Almost immediately Gemma appears, squinting against the sun. “Hey! Mike’s not here. He drove up to San Luis to grab a few things from his old apartment,” she says. “What’s up? Did you …” Her words trail away and her grin shrivels. “What’s wrong, Ree?” I swallow and try to smile, but I can’t. My face has forgotten how to move that way. I can fake it for him, but not for her, not after everything her mother told me. “Oh god. Something went wrong, didn’t it? Shit.” She sighs and leans past me to scan the parking lot before grabbing my hand and pulling me inside. “Come on. Let me get you a Coke. You can tell me all the gory details.” The room is dark, the curtains drawn against curious eyes. To our left are two double beds, one with the forest-green bedspread still tucked in tight, the other with rumpled sheets and a mound of smooshed pillows at the top center. It looks like Gemma and Mike sleep close, snuggled in the center of the bed. Just like Romeo and I did last night. My eyes slide shut, and a choked sound gurgles in my throat. The pain is worse than anything I could have imagined, even worse than this morning, a mountain of misery crumbling down on top of me, vast and crushing and inescapable. “Ree? Ree, you’re freaking me out,” Gemma says. I open my eyes to find her standing in front of me, holding my hands gently in hers. I can barely feel her touch. My skin is numb again, a shell, a suit of impenetrable armor I’ll use to protect me as I fight. But first I have to make sure my only friend is safe. “I’m sorry.” I let her guide me into one of the chairs near the small table in the corner. She pops the top on a Coke and sets it in front of me while I reach into the pocket of my hoodie and pull out the plastic bag. “Here’s your stuff.” I set it on the table and scoot it toward her with a flick of my fingers. “I put it in a plastic bag and carried it out in my pocket. I forgot my backpack.” “Thanks,” Gemma says, but she doesn’t reach for the bag. She’s too busy watching me. “So what happened? Was my dad there? Did my mom catch you or—” “She did.” “Shit!” “But it was okay.” Because she wasn’t your mom anymore, I silently add, knowing it would be pointless to tell Gemma what’s going on. She wouldn’t believe her mom’s body is hosting another soul—an Ambassador of Light sent to protect me—any more than she believed me about Romeo. But for once in my life, I was right. Romeo is real. And my anger when I thought Dylan was pretending is nothing compared to the fury of knowing that everything Romeo said is true. “Ree? Ariel?” Except the part about loving me. That’s still a lie. The way I should have known it was from the start. Romeo came here to trick me, and as soon as he realizes he has failed, he’ll kill me like he did the first time. I’ve seen it, felt it, known what it’s like to have a bullet push through my forehead and lodge in my brain. I watched his face light up with satisfaction as he fired the gun. He enjoyed it. I could see it in his eyes. The Ambassador in Mrs. Sloop’s body showed me everything. She took me by the hand and sent visions of Romeo’s reign of terror dancing through my mind, saving me from becoming one of his victims a second time. She showed me all the people he murdered, countless men and women he won over with clever lies, only to turn them into murderers and monsters—like him. He’s still a Mercenary, though a cursed one. He pissed off his boss, and if he doesn’t find a girl to love him and sacrifice her to the Mercenary cause, he’ll become one of the lost souls that scream in my head. He’s been seducing me for the slaughter. But unfortunately for him, Juliet’s Ambassador reached me in time. Now I will be the one to take revenge. For myself, for Juliet, and for all the people whose hearts and souls and lives Romeo has ripped apart. “You’d better start talking, Ree,” Gemma says, her voice trembling. I glance up, registering the shimmer in her brown eyes. She’s about to cry. I made myself cry for him, to make my lies more convincing, but I won’t cry for real ever again. I’m too full of hate to feel anything else. “If you don’t, I’m going to call your mom,” she warns. “That can’t happen,” I mumble in a flat, hollow tone. I sound empty, though I’m so filled with rage, I feel like I’ll bubble over any second. “That would ruin everything.” “I don’t care. What’s wrong with you? You’re scaring me.” “I’m … sorry.” I sit up straighter, trying to focus through the haze of fury. But it’s so hard. Every time I blink, images of my grandpa’s gun flicker behind my eyes. For the hundredth time I wish I hadn’t hidden it in the cafeteria. I wish I could go home and get it right now, the sooner to take care of my problem and spare myself the agony of pretending, and the torture of enduring Romeo’s touch, his kiss. His kiss. The fury spikes again, and I’m possessed by the urge to rip his lips from his lying face, dangle them in front of him while he screams. But I can’t. I have to wait for the gun. I’m not certain I’m strong enough to get the job done any other way. Gemma reaches for her pocket. “Okay, Ariel. I—” My hand whips out to grab her wrist, stopping her from pulling out her phone. “I’m fine,” I say, forcing myself to pull it together. “It was just hard talking to your mom. After everything you told me … It was hard to even look at her.” Gemma sighs. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you. I’ve been thinking about it since we got back from the school, and—” “No, I’m glad you did.” I grab the Coke and take a long, sharp, sugary sip, enjoying the way it burns in my throat. “I’m glad I know the truth. About everything. I’m sick of pretty lies. And ugly lies.” “And moderately attractive lies with nice smiles,” she says, but her joke falls flat. I’m not in a joking mood. Her eyes meet mine and flicker away. “Okay. Well then, let’s see what we’ve got.” She reaches for the plastic bag and peels open the crumpled top. “It’s all there, right?” “Yeah, I think so,” she says, digging through the rings and bracelets and tightly wrapped rolls of twenty-dollar bills. “Let me see if Mom took anything.” I was so out of it by the time I went to get Gemma’s things that I can barely remember dumping the box into the white Albertsons bag the Ambassador pressed into my hands. Her hands were shaking by that point too. It was hard for her to show me all those horrible things, and even harder to show me the boy. She had him tied up in the barn. Like an animal. But that’s what he is. A dumb animal with a pretty face, one Romeo will wear again as soon as he kills me. My death will pay his way into the beautiful body of my boy on the hill. Just like Juliet’s death paid for his immortality. “Monster.” “What?” Gemma asks, glancing up from the jewelry she’s laid out on the table. “Nothing.” I open my mouth wide and close it again, trying to banish some of the tension from my jaw. I feel like I could chew the diamonds in Gemma’s hands in half. I breathe slowly in and out through my nose. It’s going to be okay. The Ambassador is going to hide Romeo’s body in the school cafeteria freezer later this afternoon. It will be there, drugged with her magic, tied up and waiting for me. When the time is right, I’ll grab it and grab my gun and put an end to Romeo the way the Ambassador told me to. He’ll never barter another girl’s life for his again. “It’s all here.” Gemma sweeps everything back into the bag with a sigh. “Thank you so much. You have no idea what a load off this is.” “No problem. I was happy to help.” She looks up with a wicked grin. “Me too. I can’t wait to see Dylan’s face tonight.” Right. “I wanted to talk to you about that.” This is what I came for. I need to get it done so that Romeo and I can go get ready for the dance. So that I can kill him the way I told him I was going to kill him, and see his stupid lying face when he realizes I beat him at his own game. “I don’t want you to come tonight.” “What?” Gemma laughs and pokes the back of my hand with one finger. “Are you crazy? There’s no way I’m missing this.” “No. It’s too dangerous. Someone will see you and call your parents. They’re still pretending you’re missing. Your mom didn’t—” “Pfft!” She waves a hand, dismissing my concern. “No one will see me. I’ll wear Mike’s black hoodie and hide in the curtains backstage until the big moment.” “But—” “Ree, seriously. When that video starts, everyone will be too distracted to notice little old me,” she continues. “I’ll slip out, watch Dylan crash and burn, and escape out the back door into the night. Mike will be waiting in the parking lot. We’re leaving for Seattle right after. I’ve got it all planned.” She’s got plans. But I have plans too. “No. You have to go. Now. As soon as Mike gets back.” She shakes her head, confusion in her eyes. “Ariel … what’s up? I thought—” “I don’t want you to get hurt. If you stay here, your life is in danger.” She stills. “What?” “Dylan’s an even worse person than we thought,” I say, telling the lie I prepared, knowing she won’t believe there are Mercenaries out to invade the bodies of the people I love. “I found out some other things about him today.” “What kind of things?” “I can’t tell you. I don’t want to put you in any more danger than I have already,” I say. “I couldn’t forgive myself if I was the reason you were killed.” “Holy shit.” Gemma’s voice shakes. “Are you serious?” “Completely serious. You have to leave. And don’t ever come back.” “But what about you? If Dylan’s dangerous, then—” “Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of him.” Her eyes narrow for a moment before widening in comprehension. “Ariel Dragland … You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.” “I can’t say any more. Don’t ask me any more questions.” “No, no, no,” she says, jumping up to pace the small patch of flowered carpet next to the table. “This is not okay. I know what we talked about today with my uncle and stuff, but if Dylan has done something worth killing him for, you have to go to the police. If you do something—” “Gemma, stop!” She flinches at the intensity in my tone. “I’m not telling you anything else. We already went into the cafeteria together. If I get caught, it’s best if you haven’t done anything else that could make people think of you as an accessory.” “An accessory …” She licks her lips, lets out a long breath. “Ariel, I—” “Go, Gemma.” I stand, facing her head-on. “Promise me you’ll leave as soon as Mike gets back.” “No,” she whispers. “You’ll ruin your life.” “My life is already ruined.” “No, it’s not, Ariel.” She reaches out, fingers brushing my elbow, hesitant, cautious, as if she’s afraid even a friendly touch will make me explode. “You may feel like that now, but I promise you Dylan isn’t worth—” “Shut up,” I snap. “Okay, fine.” She pulls her cell phone from her pocket, but I snatch it away and hurl it across the room, gratified when I hear it crack into pieces. “What the—” “You don’t understand,” I say. “You’ll never understand, so don’t talk to me like I’m the one who’s stupid.” She blinks. Then blinks again. Then starts for the door. I dart in front of her, blocking the exit with my body. “You can’t go out there.” “Yes, I can,” she says softly. “I’m going to the front office and I’m calling your mom.” “No.” “Yes. You don’t know what you’re—” She reaches for the door, but I knock her hand away. “He’s out there! In the car.” She shakes her head. “Who?” “Dylan.” “Why?” She lifts her hands, fingers splayed in the air above her. “What the hell are you doing?” “It doesn’t matter. I just can’t let him see you. Especially upset.” Gemma drives a hand through her hair. “I’m not upset, Ree. I am freaked. Out. Really fucking freaked out.” She swallows, and I can see the fear in the way her throat works. She’s afraid. Of me. “Don’t be.” My lips tremble. I bite them to make them stop. I didn’t want things to end this way with Gemma. “Please,” I beg, praying she’ll listen to me even as I edge to the left, closer to the bureau shoved into the corner and the lamp on top of it. “Calling my mom isn’t going to help anything. If you really want to help, do what I asked. Leave with Mike and be safe and happy. You’re my best friend. You’re the only real friend I’ve ever—” “And you’re mine,” she says, tears shining in her eyes. “Don’t you know that? I meant what I said this morning, Ree. I love you, and I’m not going to let you do something I know you’ll regret.” “I won’t regret it.” “Yes, you will,” she says, with that stubborn look on her face, the one that lets me know she won’t be backing down. That I have no choice. “But I’m going to make sure you don’t have to.” She starts toward the door, and I go for the lamp. The cord rips from the base as I lift it over my head and bring it down. Hard. Harder than I meant to. Gemma moans and crumples to the floor and lies there. Still. Not moving. Not talking. Not blinking. I drop the lamp and slap shaking hands over my mouth to muffle the cry that tries to escape my lips. I kneel down next to her. There’s a lot of blood, rushing from her temple, cutting a winding trail down her cheek. But she’s breathing—soft, shallow breaths that grow more even the longer I crouch next to her listening. Finally I feel brave enough to put two tentative fingers to her throat and feel her pulse. Slow and steady. Rhythmic. She’s going to be fine. Unconscious for a while—which is what I was hoping would happen—but fine. “Thank god,” I whisper, hand shaking as I pull it from her skin. I hurry to the bathroom and grab a few towels. One I position gently beneath Gemma’s head. The other I roll into a log and lay over her wound. It soaks up some of the blood, but not all. Some still runs down her face, drips off her cheekbone, making tiny red splatter marks on the towel beneath her. But it’s slowing down. She’s going to be okay. “She’ll be fine,” I assure myself as I arrange her crooked arms and legs to make her as comfortable as possible. I had to do this. It’s the only way to make sure Gemma’s safe. If she’s unconscious, she can’t call my mom. And if she’s scared of me, she won’t dare come to the dance. She’ll leave and get on with her life, and I won’t take anyone down with me. I already mailed my mom a long letter, explaining that I have to leave forever but that I love her and want her to be happy. I wish there was time to leave Gemma a letter, but there’s not. I’ve already been in here longer than the ten minutes Romeo and I agreed upon. Pretty soon he’ll come looking for me, and I can’t let him see Gemma on the floor. I settle for a quick note on some hotel stationery I find on the bureau. I’m sorry. Go and be happy. You deserve it. Love, Ree. P.S. Don’t ever look back. I tuck the note into her softly curled fingers, and whisper, “Good-bye.” I stand up, run my hands through my hair, shake my arms until I feel a little calmer, and plaster a peaceful smile on my face. And then I walk out the door, into the sunlight, through the haze of hatred toward the monster I loved. The monster I’m going to kill before the night is through.