The Psychic Within

Chapter 22: Calm

Luc and I drove in silence. He hadn't said much since we had left the shop, and I was still too much of a coward to break the silence first... Not even to ask where we were going.

I hadn't even realized that he had planned to do this thing at a secondary site until he had ushered me from the shop with a few short words—the last words he had spoken. I tried to figure out which way we were headed, but I was having a hard time paying attention to the road. I kept peering at Luc from the corner of my eye, looking at his still-stony face and wondering what he was thinking.

It wasn't until we drove over the bridge that I realized I knew this path. We had driven this way so many times, I was surprised it had taken me so long, distracted or not. WE left the city behind and disappeared into the neighbourhood that dominated the mountain side. The huge trees and shrubs that lined the streets blocked the setting sun and obscuring the ridiculous opulent houses beyond, leaving only bits of their roofs visible.

We were headed back to Polly's.

The thought of returning gave me a chill, despite the warm breeze that was filtering through the half-open window and ruffling my still wet hair. It hadn't been that long since that house had been my home, but I really didn't miss it. It had starred in too many nightmares, both dreams and reality. I was sure that Luc had a good reason for choosing it as the location, but I couldn't bring myself to ask what it was.

As we pulled into the half moon driveway, there was already another car parked out front. A small beater of a compact, light blue and spotted with rust. Luc didn't seem surprised by it; he parked right behind it. He didn't pause to explain it either; he grabbed his duffel bag and climbed out of the car as soon as it was off.

I sighed, lingering in the car for a moment. This really wasn't how I wanted this to go. I wished there was some magic word to pull Luc from wherever he was. Unfortunately, that would probably take more than just one word. It would be a long, ugly conversation.

Luc paused at the door and looked back at me expectantly.

With another sigh, I shrugged off my seat belt and got out of the car.

Inside, Tory was dragging the table from the kitchen out into the hall. I watched him struggle as Ethan followed after him. That explained the car, though I had never seen Tory drive it before; it must be Ethan's.

When they noticed us, Tory grunted a greeting while Ethan gave us a slight, timid smile before looking away. Tory stopped where he was and dropped the table down with a loud, echoing clunk.

"Aren't you even going to offer to help?" he asked his boyfriend breathlessly.

"I am helping," Ethan said coldly, not moving an inch. "Later. And need I remind you that you came home late again last night?"

Late? I felt a pang of hurt. Did Luc call Tory again after I had gone to bed? Suddenly I didn't feel as guilty.

"I'll help," Luc said. He held out the duffel bag to me. "Could you please take this?" His tone wasn't unkind, but still cold.

"Sure," I said, taking the handles from him. It wasn't very heavy.

He left my said and went to join Tory, picking up the opposite side of the table and lifting it. With Luc's help they carried it easily across the hall and through the wide arch of the dining room.

I followed after them.

"We're doing it in here?" I said, peeking through the doorway. The thought of it made me uneasy, thinking of all the bad memories the room held.

"There's lots of space for us to work," Luc answered gruffly, as he was still carrying the table.

He was right about that.