Chapter 42 | The Devil of Siren City

Skylar

“Adrian!”

I hear the shout from beyond the bedroom door. I approach it quickly, sharpening my ears to listen, and I hear… the sound of a body falling to the floor.

“Adrian?” I ask, sticking my head out.

Down the hall, I see a chair fallen in the kitchen. Next to it is Candy on his knees, hunched over something on the floor.

“Adrian?” I rush forward, his form coming into view. He’s unconscious. “Oh, my god!”

“Stay back!”

I stop, surprised by Candy’s sudden angry outburst. “Candy, what happened?”

He ignores me. He taps Adrian’s cheeks, trying to wake him up, but Adrian doesn’t respond. “Adrian, come on…”

I take a step forward, wanting to inspect him myself. “Candy, what happened?”

He reaches behind his back and pulls a pistol out of his belt.

I freeze, recoiling as he points it at me. Fear rumbles in my stomach, my nerves twisted up. A sharp pain pinches behind my right eye, then fades.

“Candy, what are you doing?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“I said, stay back, Anne,” he says. “Don’t you touch him.”

I look at the kitchen table. Documents. Photos. Photos of blood. Of me. The real me.

They know.

I swallow hard, slowly raising my hands. “Candy,” I say, my concern for Adrian far more important. “I want to help him.”

“Bullshit,” he says, his gun-hand shaking. “Lying bitch!”

“You can shoot me now, or you can help me save his life,” I say, my training keeping me calm. “Make your choice.”

Candy glances at Adrian, the struggle written on his face.

“There’s no time,” I say. “Seconds matter here, Candy. Please, let me help him.”

His jaw flexes. His shoulders sag, then he lowers the gun, and I breathe a subtle sigh of relief. “What do I do?” he asks me.

I drop to the floor next to Adrian and check his pulse. “Tell me what happened,” I say.

“I don’t know,” Candy answers. “He suddenly just… dropped.”

There’s no pulse. My own heart stops as I feel for air. He’s still breathing, thankfully, but it’s faint.

“Oh, he…” Candy says, his voice full of panic. “He grabbed his chest before he fell. He was in pain. He…”

“Candy,” I say, “look at me.”

He looks up, his eyes as wide as a child’s.

“Are you trained in CPR?” I ask.

“Uh…” He thinks for a second. “Yeah! Yes. Been a while, but…”

“Okay.” I take his hands and guide them to Adrian’s chest. “I need you to do chest compressions for me. Can you do that?”

He nods. “I think so.”

“I’ll be right back,” I say as I push off the floor.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to get something.”

I run down the hall to the bathroom. Throwing open the closet doors, I immediately search for the box on the bottom shelf with the letters AED printed on the front. I grab it along with a stethoscope and an epinephrine injector and make my way back to the kitchen.

Candy counts quietly to himself, his arms taut as he pushes hard against Adrian’s chest with a sloppy but mostly correct rhythm. “What is that?” he asks, his big eyes on the box.

I grab the kitchen scissors before returning. I slice down the center of Adrian’s shirt, being careful not to snip Candy’s hands. “We have to restart his heart,” I simply say.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Yes.”

“Is that true?”

I look him in the eye. “Yes, Candy,” I say, telling the truth. “I know what I’m doing.”

I turn on the defibrillator and ready the pads. I stick both on Adrian’s chest, one on his right pec and the other along his left side over his ribs. “Candy, get back,” I say calmly.

Candy hesitates, scared to stop, but I guide his hands back. He shifts away, noticing the bandage on Adrian’s right side. And his scars.

Adrian has so many scars.

“I’m sorry,” I say to Candy. “He didn’t want you to know.”

Candy says nothing as he eases onto his knees.

“Don’t touch him,” I say, my finger on the shock button. I scoot back a little myself and take a breath as I wait for the machine to say when.

Come on, Adrian.

Don’t leave me now.

I push the button.

***

Adrian

I open my eyes.

I’m standing somewhere familiar, but my mind is scattered and chaotic. Moments pass before I place exactly where I am.

I’m on the boardwalk near Market Street. It’s mid-morning. The sun shines overhead. A warm sea breeze tingles my nose. Boats pass by, blaring their horns as seagulls caw and land nearby, hoping for food.

There’s a taste of sea salt caramel and sugar on my lips. In one hand, I hold a coffee. In the other, a pastry. It’s still warm and fluffy with light brown drizzle dripping onto my fingertips.

I stare at it. “I haven’t had one of these since I was a kid,” I say.

“I thought you said you just moved here,” Skylar says beside me as she licks the sugar out of the corner of her mouth.

I shake my head, hearing a voice on the distant wind. Stretched and distorted. I can’t make out the words, but the source is close to my heart.

Candy.

I glance around, but he’s not here. It’s only me and Skylar and the denizens of Market Street going about their morning business.

“I said I hadn’t lived…” I pause, letting the words drift away on the wind as Candy’s voice reaches my ears once more.

“A—dri—an…”

I’m not really here.

This is a memory.

I look at Skylar standing beside me on the boardwalk. She’s leaning forward with one elbow on the wooden railing as she shoves the edge of the pastry into her mouth. Licking the glaze off her lips, she sips her coffee with a warm smile.

This is a memory.

A memory of me and her the morning after she came to Siren City.

But this is not Skylar.

Persephone sighs, the breeze blowing strands of her crimson hair over her eyes as she looks at me with annoyance.

“I told her not to drink that stuff,” she says.