I bet Crow’s sister felt like that too.
If only I could get him to contact her. She’d probably be so happy to hear from him. Those kinds of bonds didn’t just die.
How could I get him to do that, though? He was stubborn as hell, and if I raised the subject, he’d just close off. I needed to be much trickier than that.
Could I track her down? I had no idea where she lived, and she might’ve even changed her surname by now, but I had to try. She’d be 24 years old, and I knew her home town. I had no idea where she would’ve moved to.
I opened up my laptop and went online. First of all, I checked the Freaks’ official site to get any details. No mention of a sister on Crow’s bio. But, hey, Elijah had two older sisters. Figured. Guys like him always had older sisters who spoiled them rotten. That was what made them grow up to think they were God’s gift to women.
I’d have to tell him that theory.
After the official site, I trawled through all the fan sites. Even there, no one mentioned a sister, although a few did say that Crow’s father had died of a heart attack.
Then I checked forums. That didn’t help, either, although someone had posted: Forget the Freaks, Wreckage is where it’s at. That chick singer is so hot.
I bookmarked that to read again later. I didn’t get nearly enough fan mail for my liking.
Then I read a reply that wasn’t as nice. Obviously from someone with no taste.
I couldn’t spend the night reading about myself. I had someone to find.
I wondered if she looked like Crow. Obviously, she wouldn’t have the beard. Well, I hoped not. And it was hard to know what his mouth and jawline looked like underneath it. But I imagined she had those same sparkling eyes and dark hair.
I tried Facebook first, but Mom was online and she got chatting to me.
What are you doing up so late?
Trust her to know the time difference. I told her I was about to sleep. I didn’t want to tell her about Crow. I wasn’t sure how much she’d heard from Polly. But then I didn’t want to not tell her, either. I tried casually telling her I we were together, but there was no way I could slip something like that past her without a fuss. She wanted all the details.
I’d grabbed my phone to take a photo of my necklace.
Interesting was all she said.
I told her all about sightseeing in Paris and sent her some photos.
Is he a good person? she asked. That’s the most important thing.
He’s a good person, I replied. He’s the best.
I’d just shut down the window when I heard a light tapping on my door.
It was Crow.
“I didn’t wake you?” he asked, and I shook my head. “I couldn’t sleep.”
He walked into my room, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight. Then I glanced over to make sure I had nothing incriminating on my computer screen. I didn’t want him to know I’d been digging into his past.
He held me tight for a long time. I guessed confessing the dark secrets of your soul took a lot out of a person. Finally, I took his hand and led him over to the bed. I couldn’t stand up hugging him forever.
I climbed into bed beside him and curled my body against his. He didn’t try to kiss me or any of that. He just held me tight, stroking my hair, until he fell asleep.
Chapter 21
WE WERE STILL IN EACH other’s arms the next morning. “I could get used to waking up next to you,” he said.
“You’d better,” I answered. I kissed him lightly on the nose. “Waking up next to me should be on your life agenda, top priority.”
“Your bed hair...”
Yikes! Did I look like an idiot? I tried to jump up to fix it, but he held me tight.
“I like it,” he said. “It’s cute.”
I crept my hand up his body until my arm was around his neck. “It is nice waking up together,” I said.
It was also nice seeing him much happier today. The storm had passed and the sun had come out. I guessed it was a relief for him to have confessed his secrets and have that out of his system. He’d been brave telling me, not knowing how I’d take it and thinking I might reject him. My heart ached for the younger Crow. Walking away had never been an option. Instead, I wanted to make his life brighter and happier, to wipe out the horrors of his past.