One corner of his mouth tightened. “What if I want some of that responsibility? What if I want to be tied down to someone?”
He called me stubborn, when he was the one holding on to some stupid family legacy of leadership? “Then I guess that’s your choice, isn’t it?”
“Not just mine.”
Unbelievable. I turned my head, so frustrated I couldn’t even look at him.
Blowing out a noisy sigh, he walked away. I glanced in his direction in time to see him drop down onto his knees before the loveseat and begin to make his pallet on the floor from the stack of blankets and sheets I’d left for him.
Slowly I stood up, watching the movements of his broad shoulders and back as he spread out a comforter for a makeshift mattress, then added a second layer of blankets for warmth. I wished I could reach out to him, physically or with the right words, and somehow make him see.
“Why is it so hard for you to say what you want, Hayden?”
He stopped moving, staring at something I couldn’t see. “I…don’t know. I guess because it’s never been about what I want. It’s always been about sticking to their plans for me.”
He sat back on his heels and looked at me, and the vulnerability on his face seemed to reach out and steal the air from my lungs.
I walked over to him, stopping before him, hesitating. He was so tall that even on his knees his face was level with my stomach. “I’m sorry I got you involved in all of this. I never should have made you follow that truck of prisoners to the camp. And I definitely shouldn’t have asked for your help with the prison break. I should’ve found another way to pull it off—”
“Then I would have ended up going to some college my father picked out and eventually becoming a politician just like him. I still would have ended up leading people, but I never would have learned the truth. My grandma’s right. I’m a Shepherd. It’s pretty damn clear I can’t escape that destiny no matter what I do.”
“I don’t believe in destiny. We choose our own futures. The families we’re born into are nothing more than an accident. Their choices have nothing to do with ours unless we let them.”
His eyebrows pinched together. “How do you know that? How do you know I’m not supposed to lead others, when that’s exactly what I’ve been trained all my life to do and it’s all fate seems to keep pushing me towards?”
“Does leading others make you happy?”
He shrugged. “What does that have to do with it?”
“It’s everything. If it doesn’t make you happy, then it’s what someone else wants instead of what you really want. And as for fate, fate’s not pushing you into it anymore. You are. I needed to rescue my dad and these people, and I’m grateful you helped them when I failed. And I know I sort of used their hero worship of you to get us all this far. But I didn’t mean to create a monster or make you feel responsible for everyone. What happens next to us all isn’t on your shoulders anymore. You’ve got to let everyone handle their own problems now.”
“When I do that, people die, Tarah. Look at what happened to that cop in Oklahoma! If I’d been awake and telling others how to deal with the situation, he wouldn’t have figured out something was wrong, and Steve wouldn’t have overreacted and killed him.”
“You don’t know that for sure. And besides, what about when you got shot and we had to figure out what to do next? You were unconscious. But we managed on our own, didn’t we? We worked as a group and figured out what to do, even if our decisions weren’t perfect. And we’ll do the same thing tomorrow morning when we all sit down and figure out where to go from here. Without you.”
He froze then slowly looked up at me. “Sounds like you’re trying awful hard to get rid of me now.”
“No, I’m setting you free of any responsibility.”
His jaw clenched. “What do you want from me here, Tarah? Seriously. You keep pushing me to tell you what I want. How about you tell me what you want. You want me to go away? Then say the words.”
I growled in frustration. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just saying...”
I looked around the unfamiliar room, trying to sort through my exhaustion to find the right words. Why was it always so much easier to write down what I meant in my journals versus saying it out loud?
I sighed. “I’m saying I chose this path. You just got dragged into it. But you don’t have to be a part of it anymore. You’re free to make your own decisions from now on. And that’s what I want you to do.”
Most of all, I wanted to see his eyes shine again and his shoulders free of all the weight he had put on there and allowed others to add to. Including me.
Finally I gave in to the urge I had been feeling for days and brushed his shaggy, wet hair out of his eyes. “So yet again I ask what do you want?”
I started to let my hand fall away from his face, but he caught and held it. It became hard to breathe as he studied my hand as if trying to read my future in the lines on my palm.
“Do you remember when we used to play Medieval Times,” he murmured, “And Damon and I were the knights, and you were our queen?”
I blinked at the strange subject change. Was he trying to distract me and make me forget my arguments? “Um, yes. Why?”
“That was the last time I can remember doing anything I wanted to do. Well, that and play basketball. And even the basketball’s kind of turned into another way to keep my dad happy. He thinks sports help me learn leadership skills.”
So the only purely fun thing he’d done was play in the backyard with his brother and me. That had been years ago.
The ache in my throat and chest intensified. I wanted to shake every member of his family until their teeth rattled for brainwashing him into thinking his dreams had no value whatsoever if they didn’t mesh with what his family wanted.
“Sometimes I still dream about it,” he said. “I can still see you in that blanket you always wore like a robe with that old curtain rod for your scepter, standing on the steps of your back deck like it was your castle.”
My mouth twitched with the sudden urge to smile. “I was such a goof.”
“You were beautiful. You still are. I always thought you should have a crown too, but even without it, you looked…right. Like you really should be a queen.”
I pressed my lips together, remembering the pure joy and exhilaration of those times when life had been so much easier. When I read motivational books about finding your dreams and following your bliss, those were the times I thought about. Talk about following our bliss. Back then, that was all we ever did. But then somehow along the way we let others’ beliefs and demands intrude, and ever since then no matter how hard I tried, I hadn’t found a way to feel such pure joy like that again.
Then Hayden did something that made me forget all about the memories and regrets. He reached up, cupped my cheek and the side of my neck, and slowly pulled me down to him for a kiss.
I don’t remember consciously telling my eyes to close, and yet they did, shutting off my sight so every other sense became heightened and filled with him and only him. The smell of Irish Spring soap on his skin, the taste of him on my lips, the feeling of his nose against the side of mine and his mouth moving over mine and my head tilting on its own in an instinctive search for the perfect angle for our mouths to meet. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, robbing me of all sound except a single moan, his or mine I couldn’t tell. Then his hands were on me, cupping my shoulders, sliding along my arms and around to my back, tugging me down to my knees and against him.
I held onto his shoulders, afraid otherwise I would fall, and then uncaring if I did, I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck so the short hairs there tickled my palms and the pads of my fingers.
How long had I wished for this, dreamed about this moment, yearned to feel exactly these sensations? And yet I couldn’t have ever possibly imagined just how intense it would feel to kiss Hayden. My first best friend. My partner in crime in leading this tiny, dangerous yet thrill
ing revolution.
The only boy I had ever loved, secretly or otherwise.
“How’s that for going after what I want?” His whisper was harsh against my cheek and ear as he held me so close against him that I could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His fingers were spread wide across my back as if trying to cover as much territory over me as he could.
I blinked fast, struggling to regain the ability to breathe and think straight. “Are you sure that wasn’t just some really creative way to win an argument?”
He laughed, and the husky sound of it sent a ripple like an aftershock over my nerve endings. “Maybe it was a little of that. But it was also something I’ve wanted to do for a really long time now. When I said maybe I want some responsibility and to be tied down to someone, I was talking about you. I want to help you, not just protect you.” He leaned back, his smile fading. “So now it’s my turn. What do you want?”
“Right now?” I bit my lower lip as it stretched into a wide smile. “For you to do that again.”
Grinning, he leaned in close again and ducked his head for another kiss.
But eventually the exhaustion won and we had to give in to the greater need for sleep instead of kisses. So we pulled the comforter down from the loveseat to cover us then laid on the pallet together, my head on his shoulder, his arms around me, my hand resting on his chest so I could feel his racing heartbeat gradually calm and slow.
Part of me wanted to relax into the moment, soak it all up like a sponge and hopefully remember every detail of it for the rest of my life. Another part of me wanted to analyze it, to question what this meant and when his feelings for me had changed and where we would go from here. I had to keep reminding myself to let the questions go and simply enjoy the moment for however long it lasted.
I fell asleep still smiling.
CHAPTER 15
Monday, December 14th
Hayden
I woke up alone. Worried, I turned and found Tarah watching me from the couch, her hair a sexy tangle over one shoulder.
“Hey, what are you doing up there?” I must have been pretty out of it. I never felt her leave my side.
“I had to move. You snore.”
I made a face.
She laughed. “Just kidding. Actually, I heard your grandma coming to bed, and I didn’t think she’d like me sleeping down there with you. So I moved up here.”
“Sounds like everyone’s up already.” And all downstairs, judging by the muffled quality of the noise. Smells of bacon and eggs wafted in, making my stomach grumble. “Man, I’m starving.”
“Me too.” She jumped up from the couch and tried to step over me.
I grabbed her ankles and tugged until she fell laughing on top of me.
“Hayden, I’ve got morning breath,” she squealed, trying to lean away.
“So? Can’t be worse than mine.” I cupped her face with one hand, staring up into her eyes as light from the windows above the couch made her irises sparkle. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Come here, cactus face,” she murmured with a smile, leaning down to kiss me.
It was the only way I ever wanted to wake up again, with her soft lips on mine, the tip of her nose brushing mine, her wild and crazy hair falling around both our faces like a dark cloud. Perfection.
Perfection soon shattered by a giggling, curly haired girl who burst into the room shouting, “Breakfast!” Pamela and Steve’s kid, Cassie.
Tarah burst into embarrassed laughter, which she tried to muffle by burying her face against the side of my neck. “Come on.” She rolled up to her feet then pulled me up after her.
She grabbed her clothes and ducked into the bathroom to get dressed, then reemerged with a sheepish smile. “My ponytail holder broke. And I feel weird about using your grandma’s makeup...” Which she’d obviously opted not to do, considering her face was still bare.
“Nope, give it up, gorgeous. You’re still beautiful.” I pulled her to me for one more quick kiss before we headed downstairs.
I should have made my move with her years ago. Why had I waited so long?
Everyone seemed to be up and roaming around, obviously enjoying their newfound freedom outside a cramped vehicle. I snagged the only seat left, a barstool beside Steve at the kitchen island. We exchanged cool nods of greeting before ignoring each other again. News on the small kitchen TV competed with cartoons blaring from the living room. In the dining room behind me, people both sat at the table and stood around it eating as mothers tried to get their hyper kids to sit still in their laps and eat.
The kitchen was even more chaotic, filled with women and men trying to cook, clean plates at the sink and load the dishwasher, or dart in for a refill from the coffeemaker. I was half worried Grandma Letty would already be frazzled and ready to kick us all out. But she didn’t look it as she stood at the counter flipping pancakes on an electric griddle with one hand, pouring a glass of grape juice for Cassie with the other hand, and laughing at something Pamela said as the younger woman cooked bacon and eggs beside her on the stove.
It was hard to believe all these people weren’t related. If not for the worry lines still etched into every adult face, their shoulders slumped and rolled forward with some combination of despair and resignation, this gathering could almost be mistaken for one big family gathering for some holiday.
Steve snagged his daughter’s shoulder as she tried to run past us with her juice. “Walk, Cassie.”
Cassie took off at a slightly slower pace, a ring of purple lining her upper lip.
Steve was still smiling as he raised his head and caught me watching them. His smile disappeared.
Tarah joined us, leaning her forearms on the end of the island countertop. Keeping her voice low, she added, “Have you see the news this morning?”
In this noise? Who could hear it? “No, what did I miss?”
She swiveled the small flatscreen toward us and cranked up the volume enough for us to hear. It was already on a CNN show featuring international news. The clips of violence in streets all over the world made me nauseous. In the last clip, leader after country leader ceremoniously signed something while seated before their countries’ seals and flags.
“The United Nations has banned Clann activities and abilities worldwide,” Tarah said, her voice hoarse. “And all the countries are agreeing to support it.”
“They can’t all be anti-Clann,” Steve protested, his voice too loud. The lower floor of the house became quiet. So much for the holiday family fantasy.
He didn’t seem to notice or care as he continued, “What about the smaller countries? The ones who always stay neutral?”
Tarah shook her head carefully. “No one wants to go against the U.N. Not on this. They’re all afraid of what would happen if they get flooded with the Clann refugees no one else wants.”
What she meant was that none of the other countries wanted to get blown up by angry, displaced outcasts like the previous U.S. president had.
“Well, great. Now what?” Steve spat out.
Good question. Because that sort of killed all my ideas for Tarah and me too.
“I might have an answer for that,” Grandma Letty said, her confident voice breaking the tense silence. She flipped the pancakes onto plates and brought them over to the island, sliding a plate before Tarah and myself. But the smell didn’t interest me at all now as my stomach rolled and churned with acid.
Pamela turned the stove off with a loud snick, her half turned body and frequent glances our way showing she too was listening in. At the dining table behind us, several chairs squeaked as people turned to listen.
“I think we should create a safe haven for Clann descendants and outcasts right here in the U.S.,” Grandma Letty announced.
Someone in the dining room snorted.
“And how would that work?” I asked. “We’d need a huge tract of land. Not to mention a long list of resources just to get started.”
“Well, I just happen to have a huge
tract of land over in the Spearfish area,” Grandma Letty said. “Your Grandpa Mathew always wanted to build a retirement home on it but died before he could get around to it. It’s got a small river running through it with a stone bridge already in place and well maintained, and it’s deep in the middle of a narrow valley full of trees nestled between several small mountains. Do a little clearing and you’ve got the perfect place to hide a small and possibly self-sustainable village.”
“A secret magical village,” I said, trying but failing to keep the disbelief out of my voice. I knew she needed my support right now in front of all these people, but really? A secret village? That was her grand proposal? “Even buried in the woods, people would find it. Planes and helicopters flying overhead would spot it in a second. Not to mention satellites and hunters—”
“No hunting’s been allowed on it for years. And you told me last night you’ve got an outcast who can do a cloaking spell, which I’m sure could be used to shield it from view.”
“Mike’s cloaking spell only reaches so far,” I said. “No way it’ll cover an entire village.”
“I could probably teach others how to do it,” Mike mumbled around a mouthful of omelet from the dining room table. “Working together, we might be able to cover a small village.”
Steve leaned back in his stool with his arms crossed, ignoring his breakfast. “You can’t be serious. How do you expect anyone to survive in this village? Think about it. Food, water, clothing, shelter. It would take countless amounts of money just to get set up, and even more to keep it going.”
“I can certainly help you get set up for awhile,” Grandma Letty offered.
“Don’t you need to save your millions for your Clann hating son’s next political campaign?” Steve sneered.
I jerked towards him, but Grandma Letty answered him before I could. “My misguided son makes his own way in life, as he always has.”