The Collective

Chapter Nineteen

I pulled up outside my mother's front door. It was the only place I had that Max didn't know about. I'd already driven around the block several times. No one followed. We were safe, at least for a moment.

I stared at the house. I didn't want to be here. I loved my mother, I did, but my mother hated Ethan. He was the last person I wanted her to see me with. All the nagging and the disappointed sighing. We didn't have to stay here. We could just stay at a motel. I could find the money. I had a decent amount of savings set aside. Well, Alex did, but it's not like I couldn't get to it, if I really needed to.

The car shuddered and died. Well, apparently this was to be the final destination.

I put it in park and jerked the keys out, stalling. I pulled Ethan's door open. He was in the exact same position I left him in. I undid his seatbelt.

"Hey, Ethan? Wake up." I tapped the non-bruised skin on his arm.

He jerked, one hand slamming into the dash and the other flying towards me. I stepped back, doing my best to hide the panic pressing in on all fronts.

"Ethan? It's okay. We have to get out of the car now, okay?"

He dragged his attention towards me, the panic in his eyes settling the slightest bit. He shivered. "You're not supposed to be here. It's not safe."

"I know. Come on." I braced myself against the car, reaching for him.

He stared at his legs. One flopped out of the car. The other followed. He pushed himself up.

I scrambled to catch him as his legs gave out.

He yelped, fingers digging into my shoulder. He leaned onto me, completely shifting his weight away from the car. "I'm so tired."

"I know. I know. We're almost there. You ready?" I steadied myself. I tightened my grip on his arm. Dried blood flaked onto my hands.

I stared at the ground. Left foot. Right foot. Not that hard. Except for Ethan couldn't support much of his own weight and the walkway had a slight, uphill slope. I hadn't noticed it until now. It was criminal.

"There are steps." Four of them, to be exact. I hovered in front of them. There was no way I could make it up with him. We were so close...

He lifted himself off of me. His hand tightened around the railing, knuckles white. He stiffened, shoulders heaving.

I rushed up next to him. I led him towards the porch swing, safely away from the stairs.

He dug his heels in, shaking his head. "If I stop, I won't be able to move."

I leaned him against the porch railing. My chest tightened. He looked considerably worse than he had the first time I saw him. All of his color was gone, and he was unsteady on his feet.

I pounded on the front door. Matilda heard us first. She yelped, pawing at the window.

Ethan left her with my parents before he left. He was going on assignment to Beirut or Belgium or Brazil or something. My mom jumped at the chance to foster Matilda. But then my mother stopped speaking to him. And, Matilda stayed. She was getting old. Ethan said he wanted her to live out her golden years in the comfort of a warm house, with people who loved her.

The light switched on behind the wriggly butt. "Maddie, enough." Matilda stopped barking. The door opened to reveal my mother, wrapped in a pink bathrobe. She was excited for half a second. The charcoal mask did nothing to hide the acidic expression directed at Ethan. She planted her hands on her hips. "No."