Midnight Rose (completed)

Chapter 22

Driving away from my grandpa's house felt like an ending to a beginning that never had a chance to flourish. I had gotten my wish to say goodbye to Wes, but I didn't get the closure I needed, and it felt like Wes gave up on me so easily. He didn't even try to convince me to run off with him. It made me question whether our connection could survive the separation.

"You're quiet." My dad was driving, but for whatever reason, Elijah decided to sit in the back with me. We were headed to the airport, but I didn't know exactly where we were going.

"Still processing things," I responded softly.

"It's a lot. I know."

"Did your father join The Order because of what happened to your mother?"

"Yes, but The Order failed us." His anger was palpable in this small space.

"How so?"

"They had been tracking the immortal who took her, but they didn't act fast enough. My dad joined The Order to ensure that didn't happen again. It's the reason I'm helping you."

It made sense. What bigger motivation than retribution for a loved one's death? "The Hunters aren't dangerous, Elijah. They've proven that. And Wes—"

"You love him. I know. It just doesn't make sense to me. Why love a monster when you can love—"

"Elijah, don't. Please. I can't control my feelings any more than my place in The Order. I'm sorry." I didn't know how his sentence would have finished, whether he was talking about humans in general or if he was about to confess something more. I was trying to stay strong. Trying to accept my fate without tears, but it was hard. I had mourned Wes for over two years, only to have a few weeks with him, and then have him ripped from my life again. I had no idea what to expect with The Order, and that was terrifying.

"You're a million miles away," Elijah acknowledged.

"More like light years." I leaned my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes. I didn't want to talk anymore. I didn't want to think anymore. If I could stop feeling, I would shut that off, too.

It was nearly midnight when we arrived at the Tacoma International Airport. As we parked the car in the airport garage, my stomach knotted. My dad handed me my bag from the trunk and then looked down at my feet.

"What happened to the new boots I bought you?"

I patted my duffel. "They're in here."

"Is there a reason you chose shoes with holes over brand new ones?"

"I'm not ready to give away all the old."

He nodded in understanding.

My body was stiff, and every bone felt broken. The slightest movement of my fingers released shooting pains up my arms, and opening my eyes was a challenge. When I finally succeeded, I was met with sterile brightness.

"Peanut." My dad's encouraging voice penetrated the dull pounding in my head. His fingers caressed my hand soothingly.

"Dad?" I was disoriented, but memories of the accident quickly flooded me. "Where's Wes? Is he okay?" I tried to sit up, but I was met with an agonizing pain in my stomach. My dad pushed my shoulders back down onto the bed.

"You can't move, Peanut. You need to rest and give your body time to heal."

He was skating around my question. "Dad, is Wes okay?"

He brushed my hair back and smiled. "He's just fine, Peanut. Now, rest."

My mom appeared around the curtain, holding clothes in her hand and my red Chucks on top. They still looked new, surviving the accident unscathed, unlike myself.