The Arrival | The House of Voices #3

Eight - Liar

Liar

 

October:

I was still angry-crying by the time I’d reached the Historical District, only a few minutes from The Black Tarot, the magic shop where Ace and Spade worked.

I was so mad at Darren. Furious; seething. I wanted to storm back into the café and slap him for the way he’d acted and for all the things he’d said about Parish.

As I remembered all the things Darren had told me about Parish a week ago, about not believing that he was insane or mentally unstable, about believing that Larkson was forcing a diagnosis on him, it suddenly dawned on me how two-faced he had come across just now in the café. How easily Darren had found it to go back on everything he’d said initially just because he’d realized that I might have feelings for Parish.

“God!”

Halting in my footsteps, I ran two frustrated hands down my face and threw my head back in frustration. Damn it all.

Darren was interested in me… when had that happened? Had it happened while Parish and I were on the run, or before that, back when he’d still been my therapist?

The unbidden memory of Darren grabbing my chin and begging me to open up to him in Solitary came to me just then and, with just like that, I had my answer. And then I was hit with the startling realization that Parish had probably already figured this out.

Men.

But all that drama aside, the worst part about everything that had just happened between me and Darren was that I still couldn’t fully believe that he had nothing to do with Parish’s capture. And that scared me because, if anyone had suggested the possibility of this to me a week ago, I would have laughed in their faces – Darren would never do that. But now I wasn’t so sure…

I shook my head wildly, trying to get those thoughts out of my head. Darren had looked truly horrified when I’d suggested it and something in my gut told me that he had nothing to do with the anonymous tip. He was being a jerk, yes. But I didn’t think he would stoop to that kind of evil.

As I resumed my walking, I felt a tingle run through my body. It was the same sort of feeling I got whenever Claudia was around. I sighed. Now I knew what she meant when she asked me to watch myself. She’d known, too.

Bracing myself for a concerned yet angry tirade, I dropped my barriers long enough to pull her through to our plane before shutting them tight. I kept walking and, before she could say anything, said, “I know you’re probably angry, but don’t worry, okay? I handled it. There’s no point in huffing over something that’s in the past.”

“I am angry,” The voice that answered didn’t belong to Claudia. I came to an abrupt halt and whipped around. “And I’m very sorry for what he did. But you need to know that he didn’t mean any of the crap he said.”

The girl standing in front of me was in her early twenties – a little older than Ace – and her almond shaped, dark blue eyes were filled with pain.

“Do I know you?” I asked her, careful not to talk too loud in case someone passed by.

“No,” She shook her head, her long brown curls flying around her face as she gave me a little smile. “I just felt like I needed to apologize for the things Darren said in there. If I could, I’d have given him a smack and a talking to, but,” she gestured at herself wryly, “I can’t, so…”

I blinked, confused by the whole thing. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Tracey,” She said, putting a dainty hand forward for me to shake. I took it. “I’m sorry for bugging you right now, I know you have a lot of things on your mind and are worrying about finding Parish and all that, but I just really needed to talk to you about the stuff that happened in there. I hope that’s okay.”