The Locket

What I really wanted to do was go back to the house in Jasper. Everything seemed right there. I pulled one of the stones from my pocket and brushed my thumb across the smooth surface.

Another vision appeared before me. Kace was there, at the beach house, with Logan. I saw them going through our stuff. Logan strummed my guitar, and I wanted to scream at him, to put it down. Kace was holding the picture of my parents, looking at it with disgust. His hands on the frame sparked all my nerve endings, sensitive to the fact he had his hands on my family. My body started to shake from the personal nature of his touch. The Couriers had returned to Kace. They knew where we had been.

“South, we need to go south,” I suddenly commanded to Brent.

“Okay, Claire, we’re already going south,” Brent clarified, squeezing my hand. “Why, what is it?”

“They’re at the beach house. I see them,” I squeaked, my voice failing with the shock of what I had seen.

“That means the Couriers from the boat house had learned something,” Brent stated.

While he spoke, I recalled being at the boat house where we discovered that Logan had killed Maggie. There were so many Couriers. We were unable to absorb all of them. Many of them attached to Reese, recording his thoughts.

“They must have reported our presence at the beach house when they returned to Kace,” Brent continued. “This is good for us, though. If Kace and Logan are in Jasper, then they might not know we went to Maggie’s or that we met with Omni. The distance gives us more time. You’re safe, Claire,” he said, kissing my hand again, and smiling softly.

It was getting late and we had been driving for about forty-five minutes, even though it felt like hours. Reese finally spoke, “Uh, guys? I really gotta go,” he said chuckling. Good ol’ immature Reese.

Brent laughed too, but then told him, “There’s a rest stop at the next exit. Hold it until then.”

We pulled into the rest stop, packed full of travelers. The gas station had a line of cars stretching forever, and people were honking impatiently. Off to the left was a large building that housed several food chains and restrooms, which Reese obviously needed, judging from the fact he was holding himself and bouncing up and down.

After parking, Reese leaped from the car before Brent even turned off the engine. I laughed when I saw him almost run down a lady and a little girl she was with. He was apologizing profusely, but still holding himself like a kid.

“Now’s your chance,” Brent said, nudging me.

Rolling my eyes at him, I opened the door. Reese deserved the truth. Exiting the car, I made my way to the building and waited for him. Reese saw me through the glass doors before he was out of the building. He threw up his hands up in front of himself, indicating he had surrendered. He sure could make me laugh.

“Truce?” he offered.

“Come on, we need to talk.” I looped my arm through his and we made our way to a picnic table. Reese hopped up, sitting on the table, and I took a seat on the bench below. Traces of previous travelers lingered everywhere.

“Look, Claire,” Reese began. “I don’t know why I did what I did. I’m impulsive and immature.”

“And impatient,” I added.

Reese hung his head. “That, too.”

I caught his eye, smiled, and gave him a gentle sisterly punch in the leg.

“Look, as it turns out, what you did was probably a good thing.” It was a small offering to excuse him from his actions regarding Kace and Logan.

‘”I’m not sure that’s possible, Claire.” Reese protested, shaking his head. He was tugging at his jeans, rolling the fabric between his fingers, nervously.

It is a good thing. Kissing you the way I kiss Brent is wrong, on so many levels.

“Did you know my parents?” I asked bluntly.

Reese thought about my question for a moment. “I met your dad a few times as a kid. I think he went to school with my mom or something.”

Just say it.

“Yes, that’s true, but it seems they were a little more than classmates at one point,” I hinted, raising my eyebrows hoping he would figure it out so I didn’t actually have to say it.

“I’m not following you here, Claire,” he admitted, confusion flashing ac

ross his face.

Just say it.