Ride and Die (Ridgemore #1)

17 Yada, Yada, Lie, Lie, Lie

17

Yada, Yada, Lie, Lie, Lie

D espite the lack of notice, my friends’ parents arrived in record time, making their way down to Mom and Dad’s underground lab without needing directions, a fact I was certain my friends hadn’t missed based on their squinty-eyed looks. I wasn’t the only one with traitors for progenitors. There was a whole club of them.

I’d barely had enough time to take Bobo out for a quick pee break and to give him some water so he could begin the cycle anew before I found myself back in the secret room, surrounded by incontrovertible evidence that the adults had an entire hidden life we’d known nothing about.

The parents drew stools around the center island, and I couldn’t help but notice how familiar they seemed with the setting.

My friends and I were wound tighter than a spool of electric wire with the current already running through us. We stood together, unable to sit still, our backs pressed against one of the long counters. Close enough to our parents to call them out on their shit, not close enough that they could touch us. The days of wanting comfort from Mom or Dad seemed so distant that I couldn’t reconcile the people who faced off with me now with those tender memories.

It was as if there were two opposing groups in the room, each a stranger to the other.

Even Bobo had chosen sides. Since we’d come back down here, he hadn’t moved more than a few feet away from me, and then it was only to soothe my friends. He might not understand the nuances of what was happening, but he damn well knew something was very wrong—and that the adults were the source of the current tension.

Our parents kept sharing loaded looks, the couples murmuring under their breath to each other.

Griffin pushed off the counter, arms crossed protectively, and snapped, “So? How long are you gonna make us wait to tell us what the hell’s going on here? Seems like the least you could do after all this”—he flicked an accusatory look at the board with our faces staring back at us—“is own up to it without all the suspense. I promise you, we’re shocked enough already.”

Orson cleared his throat and slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Son, it’s not as bad as it looks.”

Griffin didn’t soften a bit at his father’s wheedling tone. “Prove it, then.”

The parents stared at one another.

“Seriously, guys?” Layla whipped out, her eyes vibrating with her intensity. “Whatever’s going on here, I can tell you right the hell now that it’s not right. This”—like Griffin, she glanced at our portraits, the evidence none of the adults could deny—“is shady as hell. I’m literally seconds away from walking out of here and filing for emancipation, and I’m not even kidding. Someone’d better start talking, and now . It’s the only chance I’m giving you.”

“Ditto.” For once, Brady backed up his sister without fuss.

Celia sighed, sliding her glasses up onto her head where they sat like a headband, a far too everyday look for the mood. “Sweetheart, I promise you, everything we did was to protect you.”

Layla slammed her hands to her hips, jutting her head forward. “Are you trying to tell me that you spied on me and my friends for our own good?” She barked out a bitter laugh.

“I’m not trying to tell you that. I am telling you that. It’s the truth.”

Brady hmmph ed sarcastically.

“Go ahead, tell them,” my mom said to Celia.

Celia swiveled on her stool. “Me? Why me?”

“Why not you?”

“Brade,” Layla said without turning to look at him, “wanna catch a lift with me? I wanna get a head start on my emancipation research. I’m filing first thing tomorrow morning before the courts close for the weekend.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Celia said.

Layla pushed out her bottom lip before singsonging, “Don’t be fucking liars and sneaks .”

“Layla,” Porter admonished sharply.

“What, Dad ? Are you really gonna be upset about my attitude right now? Put yourself in our shoes for a millisecond here. How would you feel if you discovered your parents were literally spying on you? Like, how can you not see how beyond fucked up this is? You guys have our freaking pictures tacked up on a board like we’re suspects in a police investigation or some shit. And let’s not even mention what’s on the computers.”

“Wait.” I tensed even further. “What’s on the computers?” I was going to need the massage to end all massages after this, just to get my shoulders in working order again.

“Basically everything,” Hunt said. “Our medical histories from birth even though we’ve never been to any doctors that I can remember. Our school and testing records. Transcribed logs of our ‘private’ conversations, with highlighted parts about Brady’s dreams. His complete hospital report. Literally, every time he took a shit, it’s noted.”

“Fuck,” Brady interjected.

Hunt continued, “A file on that bitch reporter Kitty Blanche, including her phone logs. If you can think of it, it’s probably in there.”

“Shit,” I breathed.

“Exactly,” Layla said.

“How did you access our computers?” my dad asked. “The security on them is military grade. None of you have skills of that level.”

“Really, Dad?” I asked. “ That ’s your one question here?”

But Griffin was already responding. “Just ’cause you’ve got a bunch of data on us doesn’t mean you really know us or what we’re capable of.”

“That’s right,” Layla said. “You can’t get a real gauge of us from a bunch of reports and files.” She shook her head. “It’s looking like you don’t know us well at all.”

“Of course we do,” Celia snapped. “You’re our children. Our babies.”

Layla harrumphed. None of the rest of us rushed to affirm the parental bond either.

“Good God, just tell them already.” Alexis groaned.

Celia spun to face her. “If you’re so anxious, then you tell them.”

“Fine, I will.” Alexis stood, using both hands to flip her long black hair behind her shoulders before straightening her back. Her posture was always impeccable. “We have nothing to be ashamed of. We did what we had to do. If there’d been another way, we would have taken it.”

Then to us, “You might not be ready to accept that everything you see here has always been about your safety, but it is the truth.”

When Hunt snorted, Alexis pinned him with a sharp look. “You wanted explanations, you’re going to get them. Please don’t interrupt me.”

Hunt frowned but held his tongue. I alternated between blindly pushing back my cuticles, petting Bobo, and wrestling with the desire to scream profanities at the adults studying us with know-it-all expressions.

“We met at our first job out of college. We were all fresh and eager, excited to save the world with our newly minted PhDs. We were the best of the best in our fields, pumped to have been recruited for jobs at a state-of-the-art facility performing cutting-edge research.” She fidgeted with the wedding band she still wore. “Not on marine animals like we told you.”

“What, really?” Hunt interjected. “What about Harvey the octopus, the one who was so smart he could do puzzles at the same level as a human toddler?”

Alexis hesitated but ultimately shook her head.

“So Harvey was entirely made up?”

“Yes, but only for your—”

“Don’t bother wasting your breath. Let me guess. For our protection.”

“Exactly. All of it’s been for that.”

Hunt grunted. My urge to dig into my arsenal of cuss words was growing. I’d heard about Harvey too. He was the cutest, most amazing octopus you can imagine , my parents would tell me. So special. Fascinating creature. So intelligent . Yada yada, lie , lie , lie .

Alexis scanned the line of us, pursing her lips when she didn’t seem to like what she saw. Layla had an octopus plushy named Harvey she’d loved above all others. He was still singled out from her other stuffed animals that she’d outgrown, claiming a prominent spot on one of her shelves.

Alexis seemed to steel herself. “The marine life study was the standard story used by all our colleagues. The work we were doing was top secret. We had to sign NDAs a mile long before joining the team. No one was allowed to share with anyone, not even their families.”

I stared back at her blankly, unimpressed. She was trying to sell us some non-disclosure agreement bullshit? No one had made them spin their web of lies into happy tales that made Harvey come alive for us. I’d nearly named Bobo to honor this special animal my parents spoke of so fondly.

“If you weren’t studying Harvey, what were you studying?” Hunt asked, his voice too even. It was his tell that he was barely keeping his shit together.

Before answering, Alexis glanced behind her at the others. My mom, Celia, and Orson nodded. Hunt’s mom appeared less confident than before, and the woman was always self-assured, like there wasn’t a single thing on this planet she didn’t know or hadn’t done, and if she’d done it, she sure as shit did it better than anyone else. Hunt probably got his huge brains from her, though none of us were too shabby as far as intelligence levels went. Even Brady, who pulled off the immature muscled brute vibe when he wanted, was a mechanical genius.

Alexis swallowed and regained her usual composure. “We were tasked with studying genetic anomalies of the … paranormal variety.”

I blinked and waited for the joke to land.

Layla tittered. “Uh-huh. Paranormal. Right. So now what are you gonna do? Start spinning some tale for us about unicorns and fairies? Are you gonna name a fictional unicorn and tell us he hangs out with Harvey? Come on .”

Alexis was usually serious. The others, not as much. But six parent faces looked back at us—dead serious.

“No way,” I said. “You’re messing with us.”

“Oh, but we aren’t,” my dad said. “Doctor Alexis Fletcher never jokes about paranormal genetic experimentation. She wouldn’t dream of it.” Then he chuckled.

Mom scowled at him. “Reece.”

“What? No one died. Why do we need to act like it?” His neck tightened, the cords popping as he reflected on his words. “Well, Brady did, obviously, and that was horrific, but he’s alive and well now.”

Alexis resumed as if my dad wasn’t still yanking his foot out of his mouth. “Our genetic studies of paranormal activity focused, at the time, especially on a penchant for advanced healing.”

“Super healing, we called it,” Celia added.

My heart thumped irregularly. “Are you trying to say that Brady has super healing? That he’s some kind of … shit , some type of supe or something?” I heard my question as if someone else were asking. It was absurd!

“Supe?” Celia asked.

“Supernatural,” Griffin grunted.

“Oh, of course.” She smiled, but tentatively. “I like that.”

No one gave a hairy rat’s ass what she did or didn’t like.

When none of them hurried to confirm or deny the picture that was forming for us, Brady whispered, “No.”

“Our employer was a private party,” Alexis continued, “so we had quite a lot more flexibility than if it were a government facility.”

“Which turned out to be a problem,” my mom said. “Later on, we discovered things weren’t done quite as legally as we’d been led to believe.”

“How so?” I asked.

“We’ll get there. The story’s best told in order. Go ahead, Alexis.”

“Our experiments began on organic matter like plants, and then we upgraded to animals.”

I winced. “Really? You were straight-up torturing animals in the name of science?”

This time, Alexis didn’t hesitate. “It was our job.”

“Still.” Hunt said with a meaningful glance at Bobo.

Alexis shrugged. “Science isn’t always pretty, but no one complains when they get the life-saving cure for someone they love. Anyway, Celia, Monica, and I all got pregnant around the same time.”

“And Mitzi too,” Celia interjected.

“Right, of course, Mitzi too.” Mitzi was Griffin’s mom. She’d split when Griffin was three, leaving him alone in Orson’s care. “Since we were unaffected by exposure to the experiments as adults, and our preliminary investigations suggested everything was safe, we didn’t protect ourselves. We didn’t safeguard you in our wombs from this same exposure. It appears you were affected while in utero.”

“Affected how, exactly?” Hunt asked.

“Yeah, and by what?” Griffin followed up.

“This is where it gets tricky.” Alexis began pacing slowly up and down the open corridor between our two groups. “You’re probably familiar with the Aquoia indigenous tribe that populated North America before settlers arrived from Europe.” She looked at us, and we nodded. “Well, the Aquoia tribe has passed down legends for many generations of a mystical place that holds supernatural powers. Whoever finds this place is said to be able to return from death and walk like a god among the living.”

“What’s that mean?” Brady asked.

“We’re not entirely sure yet. That part has been less certain thus far in our studies.” She considered Brady for a moment. “It’s all shrouded in oral tradition and the specifics of Aquoian culture, much of which the tribal leaders refused to share with us, even though we’ve explained how vital it is that we have this information.”

I grunted. “Can’t blame them. Conquistadors plundered their land, murdering and devastating entire peoples as they went.”

“Now’s not the time for your idealism,” my mom said. “Things aren’t always as simple as you think they are.”

“Oh, I couldn’t disagree more. Cruelty wrapped in the guise of imperialism is still the same vicious, despicable, disgusting thing, no matter how you want to fluff it up.”

“I’m not fluffing up anything,” Mom snapped. “Can we focus on what’s important here?”

“I thought a moral compass was important,” I grumbled, but let it go. I was too intrigued by whatever was to come next.

“Anyway,” Alexis resumed, “our employer found what they thought was the source of this Aquoian legendary power. A lake sacred to them. We were provided with water samples from this lake, along with parts of the ore deep beneath it.”

“So what was it?” Hunt asked. “Some sort of new element?”

“That was our first hypothesis. It had to be a new element. What else could it be?”

“But…?”

“But we didn’t find any new element. In fact, we didn’t even find elements that were all that unusual. These elements are found across continents, and even their same combination is found in other places, in nearly identical proportions and quantities. Nowhere else does this combination of substances lead to anything particularly remarkable.”

“So what then? It’s a hoax? Nothing more than an inflated legend?” Hunt asked.

Alexis glanced at my mom, who picked up the story as Alexis took her seat again.

“We considered that, and let me tell you, our employer was very unhappy while we thought there was nothing to these legendary powers. But then…”

“But then,” Alexis inserted, “the organic matter regularly exposed to this lake water began demonstrating extraordinarily advanced healing, far beyond what it was previously capable of.”

“We cut off a plant’s main stalk,” my dad said, “and within that same day it grew back, stronger than before.”

“That’s when we knew for certain we were on to something after all,” Orson said. “That’s when it got really exciting.”

“If it wasn’t a unique element or combo of them, then what was it?” Brady asked. “What else could it be? Unless you’re about to say that’s the paranormal part.”

My friends and I looked at our parents, anticipating their answer. Even Bobo joined us in staring.

“That’s the thing, see,” Celia said, sliding her glasses back onto her face. “There’s no ready explanation. Science gives us no reason for the super healing. I love science because everything is so clear. It either is or it isn’t. You suggest a hypothesis, and then you either prove or disprove it. There’s no in-between, no nebulous areas. The logical explanation for a previously unexplained result is an unknown factor. A new element would explain it perfectly, and if not that, then a familiar element exposed to a distinct combination of events and other matter to cause this reaction.”

“But we tried everything, and I do mean everything,” my mom said, any tipsiness from her wine over dinner entirely absent now. “And nothing we did achieved the results we needed.”

“Nothing we did brought about the super healing,” Celia elaborated. “Nothing. Which could only mean…”

“When you’ve eliminated all that’s impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” I said.

Celia’s brow arched at me. “Yes, Joss, that’s right.”

I shrugged. “Sherlock Holmes rocks.”

Layla pushed off the counter but didn’t advance toward our parents. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying your ‘official scientific conclusion’”—she air quoted—“is that there’s some super-charged lake that gives super powers?”

“Essentially, yes,” Alexis said.

“Trust me, it blew our minds too,” my mom added.

Layla shook her head. “So with all the degrees and accolades you have, what you came up with was, um, magic? Supernatural forces? I don’t know, what do you even call that level of cray-cray?”

“You call it the unexplained,” Dad said. “‘Magic’ is only the precursor to what science hasn’t yet been able to explain.”

“Or it could just be magic or whatever.” I shrugged. “Until you prove it’s not that, all you’ve got is another hypothesis.”

My statement hung in the air without comment for a few moments.

Were we really discussing the possibility of magic and paranormal activity? With our crazy parents? Maybe Brady’s dreams had infected everyone and I was deep into one. That would make more sense than this.

“Hold up, hold up,” Brady finally said. “Please don’t tell me you’re trying to suggest I’ve got some sort of supernatural shit going on with me.”

Celia’s gaze snapped up to meet his. “Brady, my love, you died . There’s simply no way anyone could have survived what you did—unless the super healing finally manifested in you.”

“But…” Brady shook his head several times. “That’s batshit nuts. I’m not some paranormal weirdo.”

“You know on TV and in movies ‘paranormal’ means vamps and werewolves and shit, right?” Layla asked our parents. “Like, the really, really cuckoo, not-real shit.”

Our parents exchanged looks yet again.

“Uh-uh. No fucking way,” Layla said. “If you tell me you think there are vamps out there, I’ll—”

“That’s not what we’re trying to say here,” Porter interrupted. “We’re just laying out the facts right now. None of you ever died and came back to life as kids, obviously, but we did see signs over the years that you healed far faster and better than was usual.”

“It was enough to spur us into action,” Celia said. “We left our jobs and moved across the country, covering our tracks as we went. No one knows you were exposed to whatever’s in that lake. No one can ever know. Do you all hear me? No one . Never. Not ever. For any reason.”

“You expect us to just believe this shit?” Layla asked, her voice more high-pitched than usual. “You literally just admitted to making up Harvey, and we’ve been hearing you talk about him our entire lives like he was your favorite mascot in all of history. The one thing this has proven for certain is that you’ve lied to us.”

“That’s right, sis,” Brady said. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d called her sis , but it had to have been around the time when we were still in kindergarten.

“Believe what you want,” Porter said. “We can’t make you believe a thing you don’t want to. But consider this: how else do you explain coming back from certain death nearly an hour after you were totally gone? You saw the doctors and nurses at the hospital. They said it was impossible. What else do you think defies the ‘impossible’ if not the paranormal ? We have truly tried absolutely everything else in our determination to discount this possibility. But it’s the one we keep coming back to in the end.” He nudged up his glasses, squeezed the bridge of his nose, then let them drop into place again. “You know us—”

“We thought we knew you,” Brady corrected.

“Yes, well, you surely don’t think we wanted to embrace the hocus-pocus theory. You think we wanted to go to our boss and say that, despite our significant combined expertise and expensive titles, we couldn’t explain something so supposedly simple as H2O and stratum composition? We’re the top experts in cellular and genetic structuring in the entire world. It was humiliating.”

“And also unavoidable,” Alexis said. “As scientists, we don’t get to choose our results, just expose them.”

“Yes, but still fucking humiliating.”

I’d never heard Porter Rafferty drop an f-bomb before.

“Well, there you have it,” Alexis said, crossing one leg over the other before resting a hand daintily atop them. “It’s more involved than this, but I think that’s enough explaining for now. You all look like you need to process.”

I took in my friends. Their expressions were as dazed as I imagined my own was.

“What about all this? The spying?” Griffin asked.

Good. Right on, Griff . I’d already lost sight of that important bit.

“We had to monitor you,” Orson said. “Keep track of how you’re progressing.”

“We had to protect you and keep you safe,” Celia added. “We intercepted every one of your hospital labs, Brady. No one there ever saw a real sample of your blood.”

“Fucking nefarious super-spy shit,” I whispered to myself.

“That’s still no excuse for any of this,” Griffin objected. “You could have just talked to us about it all, you know. We aren’t your test subjects . We’re supposed to be your children .”

“You are our children, son,” Orson said. “That’s why we’ve done all this.”

“We couldn’t exactly have told you we suspected you might have paranormal abilities when you were in kindergarten, now could we?” my mom asked. “That would’ve been some show-and-tell…”

“We’re far past kindergarten now,” Layla said, scowling hard.

“Yes, you are,” Mom continued. “But when would have been the right time for that? When you were ten? Fifteen? When your hormones were raging all over the place and we were doing our best to raise well-adjusted teenagers who’d eventually develop into hopefully responsible adults … with superpowers?”

“We talked about it a lot,” my dad added. “We could just never find the right time for it. We didn’t want to upset you.”

“So you spied on us instead,” Layla said. “Got it. Seems toooootally reasonable, guys. Great job there.”

“You’re going too far,” Porter told her.

“Back atcha, Daddy-O.”

While father and daughter argued, I tuned them out, trying to make sense of things. When I failed, I cut into their back-and-forth. “I’m not even close to finished with all the explanations you owe us, but I’m done for tonight. I need some time to process before the next stage of your confessions.”

The parents blinked innocently at me.

I huffed. “I’m not buying that, so you might wanna stop selling. There’s obviously more to the story we need to know, but on our terms, not yours.”

“Honey…” Mom started, standing from her stool as if she were going to hug me.

“No,” I snapped. “You guys have lied to us, spied on us, and hidden an entire secret freaking lair under the house. You keep track of more than any parent should ever know about their grown children. You’ve run the show this whole time. Now it’s our turn. Things are gonna happen how and when we want them to.”

“That’s right, girl,” Layla said. “Exactly fucking right.”

“Meeting adjourned for tonight, right, guys?” I said with a glance at my friends. When they all obviously agreed, my attention skimmed across our many combined tattoos. “Before we go: did you let us get the ink we wanted as a way to test our healing abilities? To see if we’d, like, regenerate and erase the ink or something?”

Our parents shared a similar you caught us expression.

“Jeez,” Layla mumbled.

I muttered, “I can’t even anymore. Don’t wait up for me. I have no idea when or if I’ll be coming home tonight.”

“Ditto,” Layla said, and the guys didn’t bother. It was obvious we were going to process and let off steam however the hell we wanted, free of parental involvement, aka parental manipulation.

“And don’t bother trying to spy on me through my phone,” I said. “I won’t be bringing it with me.”

“But, Joss,” my mom said, “there are those who’d do anything to get a hold of your genetic material. Everything we’ve done has been for your protection, your safety—truly. Take your phone.”

I smiled tightly at her and then Dad. “You haven’t managed to convince me of that fact. Better luck next time.” And with that, I stalked across the room, giving the liars a wide berth. Bobo quickly followed.

I didn’t suck in a full breath until my friends and I were outside and I was settled in Clyde with Griffin at the wheel. Brady was driving Bonnie, clearly no longer obeying his mom’s rules, Layla and Hunt along with him.

We’d meet at the one spot our parents maybe didn’t know about: Raven’s Lagoon.