A Pocket Full of Posies (Book 3)

Chapter Sixteen

Everything stops, and there's music blasting and people all around me and bangs in the sky and explosions of light, but it all stops. There's no one here but Connor and me. His hand is still on my shoulder, and his grip is soft, as if taunting me to make a run for it. That's what he thinks I'll do.

There's no sign of any dark spirits, just him. I'm suddenly feeling stupid for not having someone with a blessed stone come with me. I thought it would be fine. I thought I'd be five minutes, if that. As I stare into my brother's bright eyes, I get the feeling a blessed stone would've made no difference.

"What do you want?" I ask him over the noise around us, while resisting every instinct in my bones telling me to run.

Connor, visibly surprised at my lack of any attempt to bolt for it, releases his hand from my shoulder and straightens his long, grey jacket. My fight or flight is practically screaming at me now. As much as this guy confuses the shit out of me, if there's one thing I'm sure of, it's to never do what he expects. Him finding me here, choosing this second to approach me, isn't by chance. Everything he does has meticulous planning behind it.

My heart is beating at a rate I didn't think possible, faster than the dance music pulsing through the air, and I'm suddenly sweating, but I keep my face measured.

Connor smiles, and I expect it to look sinister, but it's small and sincere. "You're wearing Dad's jacket." He says it like a question, but clearly knows it as fact.

"Yeah, the one you murdered him in."

He stammers, visibly taken aback by this no bullshit mantra I've suddenly adopted. Given how much it's throwing him, I'm going to roll with it.

"Look, Felix, I'm so sorry," he begins. "I just--I was so desperate, and I thought I'd screwed it up. I panicked. I never wanted to hurt you."

Someone from the crowd of people surrounding us barges into me, then apologises as I hear a rocket shoot into the sky. A loud bang follows. It's almost laughable how normal this must look to everyone else. My phone is vibrating in my pocket, but I ignore it.

"What, for two whole weeks? Dragging my unconscious body into your car, driving into the middle of nowhere, then chaining me to a radiator for two weeks. That was you panicking? Should probably see a doctor if that's how you deal with stress, mate."

Connor stammers like a goddamn gormless fish again, and there's something satisfying about knowing I'm throwing him completely. He definitely thought I was going to run. Connor apologises again, then tries to motion for me to step aside, away from the crowd. Like hell. When I don't move, he sighs, and runs his hand through his hair. It's a gesture I've not missed.

"I just want to talk!" he shouts over a firework.

How stupid does he think I am? There's still no sign of any dark spirit, but I know there'll be some lurking, and I'd rather not wait around to confirm that. Another loud explosion bursts into the sky, and suddenly, a child's scream pierces the air. For a split second, Connor's blue eyes dart to the source of the crying, and I take it as my chance. Without a second thought, I bolt straight into the crowd.

I force myself through people as quickly as possible as the music continues to blare and fireworks explode in the dark sky. I don't need to look back to know I'm being followed, and I push forward, running like my life depends on it, crashing through people and getting a lot of swears thrown at me in the process. Shit, shit, shit. Does he know where my friends are standing? Fuck, do I know where they're standing

When I barge into the back of Tom about ten seconds later, I've never felt more relieved in my life.

"We need to get out of here!" I yell through panting.