*
Angela and Sam were in the den. The room had been put back together since Leo’s intrusion, minus several pieces of furniture that were too broken to salvage. The couch was saved, along with the coffee table. A spare TV from the garage had been set up on a bookshelf and a brand new marbled glass globe covered the light fixture on the ceiling. Other than that, the room was pretty empty. It was the room that had seen the most destruction from Leo’s goons. Grandma said it was because the den was the first room I would’ve seen when I came home that day, and Leo knew that. He’d trashed the house even after my mother had agreed to go with him, all to get a reaction out of me and send me running after him. It had worked.
Sam was watching E! News and twirling a lock of silky hair between her fingers. Angela flipped through one of my mother’s gardening magazines. They both looked up when I came in.
“Hey, stranger,” Sam said, raising the remote to click the TV off.
“You should leave it on.” I sent a pointed look at the ceiling where muffled voices could be heard rising with each comment. “It’ll drown out the static.” I sank onto the couch, next to Angela. She gave me a sorrowful look.
“How are you?” she asked. “I mean, really?”
“Miserable,” I admitted. Though they only knew half of it, or maybe less than half. As far as they knew, I’d punched Cindy, my mother flipped out, and now I was being shipped off to boarding school. That, in itself, was enough to make a girl miserable, so I figured it was fine to admit.
“Yeah, I’d be miserable, too. But I mean, at least its co-ed,” Sam said. Angela shot Sam a look. “What? I’m trying to help her look at the bright side.”
“She’s with Wes, remember?” Angela whispered. They also both knew that my mother was not a fan of Wes.
“A girl can window shop,” Sam hissed back.
Angela turned to me, rolling her eyes. “You have to email us every day, okay? And call whenever you can. They will let you call, right?”
“I don’t really know. I’ll call as much as I can.”
“Oh, and we’re supposed to give you this.” Angela reached into her pocket and handed me a folded up piece of notebook paper, flattened out from all the handling. “It’s from George. You can read it later."
“Oh, no way, she reads it now. I’ve got to hear this.” Sam shifted like she was getting comfortable and waited expectantly.
I unfolded the paper and silently scanned the words. Oh geez. I looked up. Sam – and even Angela – was still waiting. Sam had the ghost of a grin on her lips. Judging by her smile, there was a good chance she already knew what it said. Making me read it out loud was icing on the cake. I cleared my throat and read the words in a low voice. Words about Romeo bleeding and love that lasts forever, always.
When I was done–and completely red faced–I lowered the paper and looked at the girls.
“Wow. That was …” Angela began.
“Hot,” Sam finished. “Who knew the boy had it in him? Do you think he got it off the internet?”
“No, he didn’t get it off the internet,” Angela argued.
Sam shrugged. “He could’ve. We should Google it.”
"You guys? It's Bon Jovi." I folded the letter and shoved it into my jeans pocket. "It was our song. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m leaving, remember?”
“And you have Wes,” Angela put in.
“Who is way hotter than George,” Sam added.
I grinned; I couldn’t help it. “I’m going to miss you guys.”
Sam and I threw our arms around Angela and brought it in for a group hug that had us giggling until the doorbell rang. All three of us eyed each other with raised brows.
“Five bucks on George,” Sam said.
I arrived at the door at the same time as my mother. She stepped in front of me and eyed the peephole before pulling it open. She frowned, which didn’t give away all that much since she'd been doing a lot of that lately, but then she stepped back, and I saw who it was.
“Hey,” Wes said. His eyes locked on to mine.
“Hey,” I answered, staring back.
“Dinner’s in an hour.” My mother held onto her frown, but she wandered back towards the kitchen, leaving us alone.
Sam and Angela slipped past me, knowing smiles pasted on their faces.
“We’d better get going,” said Angela.
She stepped forward and hugged me tightly. When she pulled away, Sam threw an arm around my neck and squeezed. “Yum,” she whispered.
“Call us when you get settled in,” Angela reminded me.
Sam turned and winked. “Don’t do anything I would.”
I rolled my eyes and waved goodbye. When they were gone, Wes stepped inside and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. He looked wound up, rolling back and forth from his heels to his toes.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Can we take a walk?” he asked, glancing towards the kitchen–and the sound of a spray bottle at work.
“Um, how about the backyard?” A knot of anxiety pinched my gut.
He nodded, and I led him through the sunroom and out the sliding door. The sun was bright and cheery; hinting at warmer days to come but with enough of a chill in the air to remind you it was still technically winter.
The branches were still bare, dead leaves covering the ground. It had rained during the night and the smell of wet grass and mud covered everything, permeating every breath until you could taste spring trying to emerge. Somewhere deep in the trees, a single bird called intermittently. It all felt entirely too lonely.
I wrapped my sweatshirt around myself and crossed my arms. We walked to the edge of the yard and stepped into the covered gazebo, sitting on the small bench that faced the woods.
The silence ran on, and I felt my stomach tighten. Was this him being reluctant to say goodbye, or was it something more?
“How’s Jack?” I finally asked.
“He’s better, I guess. Still in bed, though. Fee won’t let him up and he’s going a little crazy.” A ghost of a smile appeared and then faded again. “You can hear them picking at each other in every room of the house. I was glad for the chance to get away.”
“At least you can go home at night,” I said.
He shook his head. “I’ve moved some stuff over. I’m going to stay with them for a while. With Jack out of commission and Miles still out there, I don’t want to leave Fee.”
“That makes sense.” I tried to read into his responses and figure out what he wasn’t saying. He seemed tense, fidgeting with his pants, and shoes, and whatever else was close. “Wes. What’s wrong?”
Wes’ eyes flickered to mine and away again, never really settling on any particular spot. A nervous pang went through my gut. “Wes?”
“Jack pulled me aside yesterday. He said he knows he can’t handle things himself with The Cause.” He paused. “He wants me to step up, help run things.” He finally looked up and met my eyes. “He wants me to lead.”
I blinked back at him, relieved to hear what was behind his mood and glad it wasn’t something… well, bad. Or maybe it was, for him at least. He didn't exactly look thrilled. “But what’s so bad about that?”
Without a word, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me off the bench, half dragging me into the woods. He ducked behind a massive oak and pulled me behind it with him, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in my hair. My surprise at his sudden affection eased, and I pressed closer and let him hold me.
Until this moment, he’d been so careful with me, as if I’d break from any physical contact rougher than hand holding or lips grazing. This was so much better.
When he pulled away, his expression was halfway between pained and hungry. “I was going to come with you,” he said.
I pulled back. “To school? Really?”
He nodded. “But now, with everything happening with Jack, I can’t. I have to stay.” He didn’t give me a chance to answer, instead pressing his lips to m
ine in short, hungry kisses that left me dizzy and breathless. The pull between us sprang to life, and my body ached to be closer, a part of him.
"You can come visit me," I said, between kisses.
His lips slowed and stilled against mine, and then he pulled away. His eyes were sad. "No, I can't. At least not for a while. Jack wants me to take over immediately. I'm moving in to help until he's up and around, and then I have to start travelling. He needs to introduce me to all of the allies we have left, so they'll trust me enough to work with me when he hands the reigns over. It's a full time job. I'm sorry."
"I understand," I said. And suddenly I did. Vera’s vision sprang to mind – a picture of Wes and me leading The Cause–and I wondered if this was the first step towards making it true. I shook that off, not wanting to make this bigger than it already was. I focused on the fact that Wes had wanted to come in the first place. His reluctance at talking to me wasn’t about not wanting to be with me, or worrying about the long distance part of our relationship; it was about his responsibility to The Cause. That made me feel better. "It’s okay,” I assured him. “I'll be home for the summer. We'll see each other in a few months."
"I know," he whispered, still gazing at me with a mournful expression.
"So what's the problem? You don't want to take over?"
"It's not that. I...." He stepped away and began to pace in front of me. "I don't know. My father was in charge, and look what it got him. An early grave. It's not like I care about my own life, but–" He broke off and looked up at me. "What if something happens to you, up at that school? And I wasn't there to stop it, because I put business before you? My father put business before family, and it got him and my mother killed. I won't let that happen." He walked over to me, running his hand through my hair.
"Wes, you are not your father. And nothing is going to happen to me." I slipped my hands inside his jacket, running my palms over his chest. I wanted to comfort him, but I didn't know what to say. I thought of Vera's vision again, wondering if he even realized what his taking over meant.
He leaned over, pressing his lips to my forehead, then my temple, then my cheek; I held on to him as his lips trailed along my jaw and then found my mouth. “You have to promise to be careful,” he whispered, between kisses. “Stay on school property. Don’t go anywhere alone.”
All I could do was mumble a noise that resembled, “Okay.”
He finally pulled away, on a long, almost painful exhale and cupped my face in his hands. “I’m going to find Miles and end him. And then you’re going to come home to me, okay?”
I smiled crookedly, too caught up in the moment to mind his protective demands. “And if my mom still hates you?”
His lips curved. “I have three months until summer break to wear her down with my charm. Piece of cake.”
My laughter was interrupted by my mother’s shrill voice cutting across the yard. “Tara, time’s up. Get inside!”
“Coming!” I stayed wedged between the tree and Wes, waiting for him to move and let me free.
“Don’t forget about me up there,” he whispered.
“Never,” I whispered back, already missing him.
***
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Heather Hildenbrand was born and raised in a small town in northern Virginia where she was homeschooled through high school. She splits her time between coastal Virginia and the island of Guam and loves having a mobile career and outrageous lifestyle of living in two places.
Heather is also a publishing and success coach bent on equipping and educating artists who call themselves authors. She loves teaching fellow writers how to create the same freedom-based lifestyle she enjoys. For more information visit www.findtimetowrite.com and find out how to create your own OutRAGEous Life.
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COLD BLOOD (Dirty Blood #2)
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Sometimes Family Can be the Death of You
Wood Point Academy is not at all what I expected.
For one thing, it looks like a cross between military school and Buckingham Palace. Everyone stares, the floors shine so bright you can see your reflection in them from a mile away, and no one smiles.
At least I’ve got plenty to take my mind off the fact that my psycho cousin, Miles De’Luca, keeps calling and declaring his love and promising to come for me just as soon as he’s destroyed anyone standing in our way. Wes isn’t going to like that idea. So between Miles, Wood Point’s evil welcoming committee, and the drill sergeant hottie trainer from hell, I just keep asking myself, how did I end up here?
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