But when his fantasizing passed the five-hour mark and got downright bloodthirsty, I discovered I could only take so much. I dug into my pockets, found my trusty MP3 player and earbuds, and put on some music to drown him out inside my head.
When we finally reached our last airport stop, disembarked and headed over to a rental car Dad had arranged midf light to have waiting for us, I got into the backseat, assuming Tristan would join me there. Instead he took the front passenger seat by Dad.
Okay. Maybe Tristan needed a little space to work through his emotions.
I sat behind Dad, which gave me a view of Tristan's profile.
Are you okay? I silently asked him.
Sure. And then came more of the same plotting to kill Mr. Williams.
Ugh. It was like being forced to listen to an all-day horror movie fest, whether you liked horror movies or not, and none of the movies were of your choosing. I stuck my earbuds back in and cranked up the music again until I fell asleep against the car door.
We stopped sometime later at a car rental place, where we waited in the parking lot for another hour till Mom and Emily showed up with the truck and RV trailer. This time their tears were happy ones as they hugged us. Then they retired to the trailer to rest while Dad, Tristan and I all opted to ride in the truck for a few hours. Dad wanted to drive a little farther north.
This time I rode in the front seat of the truck with Dad, letting Tristan have the entire backseat to himself so he could stretch out his long legs. As we headed down the road again, Tristan threw a forearm over his eyes, and I thought he might finally rest. It had been too long since I'd seen him even grab a nap. Not since the attack at his family home, in fact.
But even then he didn't sleep, his thoughts swirling back and forth between his mother's death, Dylan's last words, everything Mr. Williams had said and done that night, and wondering where the new Clann leader might be holed up now with his battalion of descendant bodyguards.
Enough was enough. Do you want to talk about it? I silently asked, turning to look over the front seat at him.
What's there to talk about?
I swallowed, the raw pain and endless rage in his thoughts filling me with a horrible ache I hadn't felt since my own Nanna's death last spring. Look, I know how you feel. When Nanna died-
No, you don't know how I feel, Savannah. You have no clue. You lost your grandma. But at least your parents are still right here. You can talk to them anytime you want.
His words stung. They might have seemed true to him, but he was wrong. I'd only lived with my dad for about a year now. Before that, I'd lived with my mother and grandma, and with Mom always on the road for her sales rep job, Nanna had been my only constant parent for years. So while my parents might be alive, losing Nanna had still felt like losing a parent to me.
But Tristan was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to hear mine. I'm never going to speak to my dad again, never know what Mom might have said... But that line of thought was too painful for him to continue. The knot in his throat worked, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the tops of his thighs. If I'd just been there a few minutes earlier...
We had been late because Charmers practice ran over and I'd had to take a shower, fix my hair and makeup, and try to figure out what to wear that might make his mother hate me less.
He wasn't blaming his mother's death on me, I reminded myself.
Your parents' deaths aren't your fault, I told him. You can't blame yourself.
Silence. Finally, he thought very slowly and way too clearly to misunderstand, I am going to track Mr. Williams down and kill him. If anyone's to blame, he is.
I drew in a sharp breath through my nose, earning a curious glance from Dad before he returned his attention to the road. There's a huge difference between fantasizing about killing someone, accidentally ending someone's life and actually setting out to intentionally hunt someone down like an animal. I know you didn't mean to kill Dylan. And I know you don't really mean to-
I didn't accidentally do anything to Dylan. I meant to kill him, just like I mean to kill his father as soon as I can find a way to get close enough to him.
Tristan-
They killed my mother, would have killed Emily, too, if we hadn't gotten there in time! That whole family is poison, and the only way to stop that poison from spreading is to end them.
It had been a long time since I'd heard Tristan shout, and he'd only ever dared to yell at me once. Even if this time it was from inside his mind, it still startled me, and I had to fight my own rising emotions. He wasn't yelling at me. I couldn't take it personally.
I took a deep breath to steady myself. Dylan didn't kill your mom. He didn't even know his dad was going to do that.
He lied, he thought with zero hesitation or doubt.
I read his memories-
Memories can be faked. Remember the one I showed you of me and Bethany Brookes kissing under the bleachers? Never happened. I just imagined it to make you jealous.
I took a deep breath and tried to hold on to my patience, but it was starting to feel like a losing battle. Dylan didn't fake this memory. He didn't have time to. Besides, he was too busy being scared of you.
A memory, my own, f lashed through my mind...the fear in Dylan's eyes as Tristan grabbed him, then Dylan's body soaring through the air, and the sickening thud and crack as his back slammed into the fireplace before he dropped into a lifeless heap on the hearth like a rag doll instead of someone I'd gone to school with, grown up with. Even though I'd seen Dylan's death with my own eyes, it still felt surreal. I'd never seen anyone my age die, much less someone I'd actually known.
He played you, Savannah, Tristan thought. I can't believe you'd be dumb enough to fall for it.
Okay, now he'd crossed the line. He did not just call me dumb. Obviously you're upset about your mother, and I don't blame you. But I am not your punching bag, so quit taking it out on me. I'm on your side, remember? And how dare you call me dumb! Just because I think you should have tried to control yourself and figure out what really happened before losing it and killing someone doesn't make me an idiot.
You are if you actually fell for Dylan's crap. And I already told you, I didn't lose control again! I knew exactly what I was doing.
I made one last attempt to stay calm. Maybe we should talk about this later, after you've had more time to deal with everything.
"I would calm down a lot faster if you weren't sitting there saying I don't know what I saw! I was there, Savannah! I could see with my own eyes what happened and exactly who was to blame! So stop telling me I'm wrong!" The roar of Tristan's words, shouted within the tiny space of the cab, punched at my ears over and over until I found myself actually leaning away from him.