“Yeah.” I was doing okay by not thinking about what could’ve happened if those headlights hadn’t flicked on. Last night had been hard, though. As I laid awake staring at the ceiling, all I could think about was those too long moments when I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything to defend myself.
A shiver coursed through me and I pulled back before Linds could feel it. I took a deep breath. “There is something I’ve been thinking about.”
“What?” She picked up her bag.
I grabbed mine off the floor. “I’ll tell you on the way to school. We’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”
Mom was in the kitchen, pouring her coffee into her mug. Dressed in black slacks and a white blouse, the frazzled woman from the night in the hospital was gone as she turned to me. Being the branch manager at a local bank meant Mom kept her own hours and was always home before I left for school. Wednesdays were rough, though. She had to be in Huntington on Thursday mornings, so she always left after work Wednesday to make the drive and returned home late Thursday night.
Otherwise, the morning meet and greet was a tradition that started after Dad left.
She reached behind her and handed over a toasted Pop Tart wrapped in a napkin. One for me. And one for Linds. “You ready for everything?” she asked.
“For anything,” I replied, taking the sugary goodness. “Thank you.”
Linds leaned over, kissing my mom’s cheek. “You’re the bomb. Toasted Pop Tarts. My mom hands me a cup of coffee.”
Mom laughed. “Ah, hold off on the coffee as long as you can.” She propped her hip against the counter as she turned to me. “You sure about today? I know the school would understand if you didn’t go, and I can call the bank. They’d understand, too.”
She had hovered over me all day yesterday like a momma bear. As much as I appreciated being waited on hand and foot and all, there was no way I could miss the first day of school. “I’m okay. Seriously. I want to go to school.”
Linds passed by me, making a face.
“Look, we’ve got to go.” I told her, backing away. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Her chest rose in a deep breath as she plucked her suit jacket off the back of the kitchen chair. “Text me when you get to school and when you’re leaving, okay?”
I nodded, figuring I was going to be doing a lot of check ins during the upcoming months.
Out in the early morning sunlight, I slipped on my sunglasses and went down the porch steps, two at a time. When my feet hit the sidewalk, an odd sensation curled around my spine. Tiny hairs on my arms rose. The feeling….
I tightened my hold on my messenger bag. In spite of the strong glare of the sun, I suddenly felt like I’d been encased in ice. The breath I took lodged in my sore throat.
Linds stopped next to me, frowning. “What?”
Turning around, I expected to find Mom at the door, watching us, but it was empty. So was the porch. The old wooden swing swayed at the end of the porch in the light breeze. Facing the front, I scanned the yard and sidewalk in front of the house. I could see the hood of my Jetta from where I stood.
The icy feeling remained, but I forced myself to draw in a breath and to take a step forward, chalking it up to paranoia. Which had to be totally understandable. Less than forty-eight hours ago, I’d faced something I never in my life thought I would. Of course I’d be a wee bit paranoid.
I smiled as Linds started to shift nervously. “Nothing.”
Eyeing me closely, she hesitated for a moment and then started forward. Shaking off the weird sensation, I inhaled the scent of freshly cut grass as I crossed the front yard and hit the sidewalk. I drew up short, stopping at where my car was parked along the curb.
Son-of-a-basket weaver.
There was a demonic, brown stinkbug on my windshield.
Squealing like a little girl, I darted around the front of the Jetta and yanked open the door. I lurched into the car and slammed the door shut just in case the stinkbug was ninja stealth, which most were.
I turned the car on and hit the windshield wipers, grinning like a Mad Hatter as the wipers flung the bug into next week.
Linds raised a brow from where she waited on the sidewalk.
“Sorry!” I hit the unlock button.
She climbed in, casting me a long look. “It was just a small, harmless bug.”
“They are not harmless,” I told her, easing away from the curb. “They are the scourges of the Earth.”
In reality, I could walk to school if I was feeling, I don’t know, active, which was something I hadn’t really felt in a while. Once upon a time, in a galaxy far—whatever—I used to love running. It was something I looked forward to every morning or after school, and I used to plan on joining the track or cross country team, but I hadn’t ran in almost four years.
As I drove down the street, I did something I always did. Three blocks down, I looked to my left, to the large brick house so much like my own. The glance was short, but the impact lasted far too long.
I gripped the steering wheel as I sped up. The narrow streets of Martinsburg were crowded with cars. The town was small, with a town square that was literally just a square with flowers, but the population was booming every month it seemed, making travel equivalent to getting your eyelashes plucked out.
“Everyone is going to stare at me,” I blurted out as we waited at a red light in front of the library. “Aren’t they?”
She didn’t answer immediately. “Do you want me to lie?”
Little knots formed in my belly. “No. Okay. Probably. Yes, please.”
“No one is going to stare at you,” she said solemnly. “And if they do, I’ll kick their asses. How about that?”
The corners of my lips rose up. “That would be awesome. Thank you.” I paused, twisting my fingers around a lock of hair as I kept my other hand on the steering wheel. “I…”
“What?” she asked, and I could feel her eyes on me.
I thought about telling her what I’d been thinking about last night while I lay awake, the desire to talk about it—to even think about Saturday night—vanished. I shook my head, unsettled more than I cared to admit. “I… hope today doesn’t suck.”
“It won’t.”
We ended up arriving to school with less than two minutes to book it to our homerooms. I was in such a hurry to get to my class that I didn’t even have a chance to worry if people were staring at me.
As I came out of the stairwell on the second floor, I nearly ran into the back of Wendy—the blonde with boobs that should be illegal on a high school girl. I’d finally grown a pair myself, but compared to her, it was like being thirteen all over again and having boob envy.
She and her friends—Monica and Shawna—were literally standing in the middle of the hall like it wasn’t a place people walked through, and they were also talking loudly enough that anyone inside the school and the middle school next door could hear.
“I don’t care if he was the last guy on Earth and it was up to me to repopulate civilization, I wouldn’t get with him,” Wendy announced, flipping a sheet of shiny blonde hair over her shoulder. “Like, there’s not enough jello shooters in the world for that.”
Monica giggled as she slid a sly look to where the metal lockers lined the wall. “Don’t be so mean, Wendy. I think he’s, you know, special.”
Then I realized that the boy they were talking about—Luis Clayton—was standing at his locker. The back of his neck was beet red and his shoulders were unnaturally tense.
Bitches.
The whole conversation reeked of a hundred similar scenarios I’d witnessed, reminding me of things that struck too close to home.
Skating around them, I hurried down the hall so I wouldn’t be late to class, but as soon as I walked into homeroom, I was turned right back around, with a note to take my happy butt to Ms. Reed’s office, guidance counselor extraordinaire and art teacher of the year.
Christ on a cracker, this was the last thing I
wanted to do.
Slipping back down to the first floor, I groaned as the bell rang, signaling the start of homeroom. If Ms. Reed sucked up my time, I’d be late for first period, which meant everyone would stare at me as I entered class late.
Ugh.
My flip-flops slid over the recently polished face of a bulldog, and I then made a sharp left, slowing down as I hit the rotunda. The offices to the right were packed with staff, but before I could pay any attention to who was in there, I caught sight of my reflection.
Even in the glass, I could see the red stain on my cheek. Shifting my chin down, I let my hair slid forward, covering the mark. I passed through the rotunda and the door to Ms. Reed’s office burst open and a dark shape stepped out. There was no stopping the collision as the door swung closed.
I bounced off a chest—a hard, male chest. Stumbling a step, I almost fell back into the rotunda, but an arm shot out and a hand caught my arm, steadying me.
“Whoa, you okay?”
My body locked up at the sound of his voice, and my gaze started at the tan hiking boots and traveled up denim clad thighs, over an old screen t-shirt that clung to abs and then a broad chest and shoulders. I forced my eyes all the way up, and they met pale blue ones.
Jensen.
Stepping free from his hold, my mouth dried and my brain conveniently emptied. One brown eyebrow rose as he stared at me, and all I could think was this was the closest we’d been in four years.
Four. Years.
Ms. Reed’s door opened, drawing my attention. Her plump cheeks rose in a smile when she spotted me. “Ah, there you are, Ella. Come on in.” Stepping aside, she opened the door as she adjusted her square glasses. “It will only take a few minutes.”
I glanced back at Jensen, knowing I needed to say something—anything—to him, but no words came to mind. I wondered if I’d suffered brain damage when my head hit the road Saturday night.
Like a complete doofus, I turned toward Ms. Reed.
“Wait.” Jensen shifted forward blocking me. “You have one of those damn stinkbugs in your hair.”
“What?” I gasped, my heart wrenching to an abrupt stop.
“Bug,” he repeated in that smooth, deep voice. “In your hair.”
I raised my hands, swallowing my banshee-like shriek. “Get it out! Get it out! Get it out!”
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Reed murmured from the doorway—her bug free doorway.
Jensen’s lips twitched as he stepped closer. “It’s just a bug, Ella.”
“I don’t care. I don’t care.” I squeezed my eyes shut, flinging my hands. “Please get it out. Please.”
With my eyes closed, I couldn’t see jack, but I knew the very second he was close. The light scent of cologne mixed with the outdoors filled the next breath I took, and then I felt his warm breath along my forehead.
In an instant, I forgot about the bug as a shiver of awareness skated over my skin. Was it necessary for him to get that close? The air halted in my throat.
“Got it.” He moved back, and I opened my eyes to see him flicking the brown bug into what was hopefully the afterlife. “It’s gone now.”
I didn’t move. He was still so close. The tips of his boots touched my toes. His arm was close to mine, and I knew if I drew in a deep breath, my chest would brush his.
That one side of his lips curled up again, forming a lopsided smile. “You’re totally okay and have entered the bug-free zone.”
I still stood there.
Ms. Reed cleared her throat loudly. “Yes. I’m pretty sure the bug crisis has been avoided. All is well in the world once more.”
I blinked once. Then twice. And then my body was burning again. Jensen cocked his head and his eyes traveled over my face, lingering on my scratched cheek. He started to lift his hand, but with a little shake of his head, he spun around gracefully and walked away.
“Jensen!” I called out.
He stopped and then, as my heart pounded against my ribs, he slowly faced me. His expression was empty, but his pale blue eyes were locked onto mine with the intensity those eyes always held. I took a step forward. “Thank you.”
A muscle popped along his jaw as he watched me with a look that said he wasn’t quite sure he knew what I was thanking him for, but the words I got you cycled over and over again in my head.
“Thank you,” I repeated, holding his gaze. “For helping me Saturday night.”
Chapter 3
Jensen hadn’t replied. All he’d done was nod and then turn back around. I probably would’ve stood there forever watching his retreating form if it hadn’t been for Ms. Reed motioning me into her office.
I still, a day and some later, couldn’t believe it had been Jensen of all people that had been the one to show up when he did, startling the attacker. If he hadn’t been getting into his truck at that very moment, turning on the lights when he had, God only knows what would’ve happened.
One thing I didn’t understand, and hadn’t been able to figure out was why Jensen was still out there by the road. He’d left a good five to ten minutes before I had. Or at least I thought he had.
“Why was Jensen here?” The question blurted out before I could stop myself. I flushed as I sat down. “That’s probably none of my business.”
“You’re right. It wouldn’t be any of your business.” She sat behind her desk, folding her hands atop a closed file. A lock of dark hair fell across her forehead. “Normally. But I wanted to see him this morning for the same reason I wanted to see you. I wanted to make sure he was okay after everything, being that he was the one who… found you.”
Ms. Reed wasn’t too much older than us, and everyone liked her as far as I knew. She was relatable in a way most of the staff in school wasn’t. I enjoyed my time with her at the end of last year when I’d picked out my classes for senior year and she’d piled on the forms for financial aid and college applications, but that didn’t mean I wanted to care and share with her.
“I really don’t want to talk about Saturday night,” I said, sitting rigidly still.
A sympathetic smile crossed her face. “Too soon?”
“You could say that.” I reached up, picking up a strand of hair and twisting it around my finger, a nervous habit I’d never been able to break. “Before you ask, I’m totally okay.”
“Are you?”
My gaze flicked up, meeting hers.
“I know you can’t be a hundred percent okay, Ella. What happened Saturday night had to have been terrifying for you.”
Really, Captain Obvious?
The chair squeaked when she shifted, leaning back. “That kind of event is going to leave an impact on anyone, especially someone who—”
“I know,” I interrupted, feeling my stomach dip. Closing my eyes, my hands tightened until my sore palms ached. The mask—the porcelain looking clown face—flashed before me, forcing my eyes open. “But I don’t want to talk about it or anything else.”
Ms. Reed held my gaze for a moment longer and then nodded. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
I started to tell her no, but that’s not what came out of my mouth. “Can you help me defend myself?”
She blinked slowly. “Come again?”
“I couldn’t fight him off,” I said, my voice came out unexpectedly hoarse, and I struggled with my next breath. “I didn’t know how to. I couldn’t fight him and the only reason why I got away was luck—that’s it. Luck. I was helpless.” My voice cracked. “And I don’t want to feel that way again. So, unless you can help me become a ninja, there’s really no reason for me to sitting here.”
A beat of silence passed. “Well, I don’t know if I can help you become a ninja.”
“Of course not,” I muttered.
But she smiled widely, surprising me. “But I do know something about self-defense classes—more like someone who helped teach the one I was in during the summer. The classes are over, but I’m sure he’ll make an exception for you.”
So wasn’t
expecting that. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” She looked happy to be helpful. “And to be honest, I think this is a brilliant idea. I think all women should take a course in self-defense. I wish we lived in a world where that