“Okay, that was weird,” I say. My hand is regular and the vines are gone.
Nathan lays his head back against the pillow, fingers pressed against his palm so hard they go white. “What did you do?”
I approach the bed and crouch down beside it. “Um, nothing.”
He glares at me from under his arm. “Nothing?”
“I was curious, and then the curtains caught on fire.” I respond as a child would who’s trying to avoid trouble with a lighter side of the story.
“Curious, huh?” He gestures his un-balled hand toward the window, saying, “And the curtains set themselves on fire?”
I shrug. “Well,” I sing with a smile. “I figured out what my hand does.”
“Clearly. Mind sharing?”
“It’s affected by my desire. It’ll turn black, and those ugly vines grow up my arm. Fire spits from my fingers and, maybe, my palm.” I wiggle my fingers in front of him.
Nathan sits up. “Okay, that sounds cool.” He stretches. “Show me, but don’t set anything on fire.”
I show him, first with desire. My hand turns black, and the vines travel up my arm, like the first time. I want to show the fire and it unexpectedly shoots out from my hand. Before it hits the ceiling, he catches it.
“That’s cool,” I say, watching him.
“Humph, yeah. It might come in handy for you.” He thinks, scratching his head. “I might be able to show you how to control it. It’ll come down to controlling your want. Minimize your want and you should be able to hold the fire in your hand.”
Minimize my want. I open my hand in a holding position. I want it to calm down, help me help it find control.
If my palm isn’t black, the fire won’t reignite. So that’s step one. Step two, willing the fire. This part makes me nervous. Just a little, I think to it. It surfaces, charging through my arm and starts as a tickle in the center of my palm, ready to spurt out. I mentally soothe its rage, calming its urgency. Only a little, I remind it. A marble-sized orb of fire arises from the center of my palm. With vines of fire snaking out from my fingers, it grows until I stop it.
I smile, watching the large blob of fire dance in my hand.
“Good job, babe,” Nathan praises. “Now, make it go away, and then the fire I took, I’ll give back to you so we can see if you can consume it too.”
“Okay. How do I consume it?” I look back at my hand, desiring the fire to go back. It sinks into my palm.
“That’s amazing.” Nathan admires. “However you make it happen might also allow you to consume it. Desire? Desire to consume it, and we’ll see if it works.”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
He shrugs. “Let’s hope it does.” My eyes widen at his response. “Kidding. We’ll fix whatever happens.” He looks to our left. “Except the curtains. After we do this, maybe we should take them down.”
My cream sheer curtains are done for. “Agreed. Okay. Let’s try this.” I put my hand up, willing it to turn black.
Nathan holds his hand out, palm up. A keen expression sticks in his eyes as he says, “This may come out fast. You need to want to catch it and consume it.”
“Okay.”
“You ready?” he asks with a supportive expression.
Absolutely not. “Yes.”
Fire erupts from his hand, shooting up to the ceiling.
Catch it before you set the house on fire, Tracey, I tell myself, unsure if I can. Reaching for it, it comes like a magnet. It sits in my hand, a lot of fire wanting to escape my grasp.
“Don’t be afraid of it. Will it back in you.”
I focus on the fire, trying to overcome my fear. But it’s a lot of fire. The heat from it flushes against my face and stings.
“You can do this, Tracey. Concentrate.” Nathan kneels in front of me, hands resting on my knees. “It came from you, so it’ll want to return to you. Want it back.”
I try to treat it as if it’s a part of me, but it’s pulling from me rather than allowing me to accept it. Through my hand, I send it a sense of approval and the violent fire enters back through my fingers, burning at its entry. It stings, but I can take it. My body wants it as much as it wants to come back. The blaze snakes back into me, filling the vines with the fury they need to twist and curl around my arm. The last of it sinks into my palm. Proud of myself, I quietly cheer, “Yes! Nathan, I did good, right?”
He smiles big and wide. “You did!” Admiration lacing his voice, he adds, “That was pretty amazing.”
I look at my hand, watching it return to its regular coloring. “I think I can control it.”
“Yeah, baby. It looks like it.” He grabs me and pulls me on top of him as he lies back down.
I prop my arms on his chest and scrape my nails over his beard. “Think you can come by today? Dad wants to have a proper meet and greet, talk to you, find out your morals, see what you do. You know, the whole father and daughter’s boyfriend talk.”
“I’m already by.” I purse my lips. He chuckles. “Yeah, I’ll stop by later. Just let me know the time. When your parents get up, I’m going home, check on things, and find out what’s going on with Taylor.”
“Aw.” I pat this chest with the side of my fist. “You made me forget about Taylor.”
“I did not. You made yourself forget. Remember this?” He kisses my neck, then my ear, repeating last night.
“Oh yeah, and that’s why you were about to get something started.” He moves across my neck. “And are looking to start this morning.”
Falling back, he drawls, “Nah. I can’t take it easy on you anymore.” He flips us over, and I peck his chin. “You’re killing me, Tracey.”
“It seems more like you’re trying to kill me,” I say, waggling my brows.
“I wouldn’t say it like that. But I need more,” he nips my bottom lip, “of you.”
Blushing, I croon, “I like the way that sounds.”
“Your parents are up.”
“They’re coming?” I ask with wide eyes.
He smirks. “Not in the sense of walking to your room.”
“Eww, that is so disgusting.” I slap his shoulder. “Why would you tell me that?”
His brows dance. “You asked.”
“Not the question you answered.”
Nathan leaves me for the chaise. “I’m going home. Let me know when you want me to come over, or where you want me to meet you guys,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head. “Your dad just got out of the shower. He’s coming here. I’ll see you later. Let me know if you need me.” Out the window, he’s gone before I can respond.
I twist around, seeing he also left with the curtains. As I turn away from the open window, Dad’s opening my door.
“Hey, Ladybug. Get ready to go.”
“Okay, Dad.”
Dad breathes through his nose. “It smells like smoke in here. Why are you standing in the middle of the floor?”
“Umm, the window is open. It could be coming from outside.” I meet his eyes and instantly turn away, disgusted, picturing him loving on Mom.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes, I’m getting in the shower.”
“Okay, your mom and I will be downstairs when you’re ready. Close the window, the air is on, and you’re making the house reek.” He leaves but retracts. “Oh. Dress cool, it’s supposed to be hot today.”
I shower, throw on a dress, and put my hair in a neat up-do. When I enter the kitchen, I greet, “Morning, Mom.”
“Good morning, honey. Did you have a good sleep?” she chirps.
“Yes, I did. What’s on the agenda for today?”
“First, find out what time Nathan will be available so I can fit him into our schedule. Something tells me that once he comes around, I’ll lose you for the rest of the evening.”
“What makes you say that, Dad?” I chew on my bottom lip, trying to keep from smiling. He’s so right.
“Based on what I saw last night. I looked in on you two and Nathan l
ooked to be asleep, and you were lying against him, asking him about leaving. He’d asked you if you were comfortable and you said yes.” Dad tries to imitate my voice. “And dear, you could visibly see the boy was tired, but he told her―”
“We don’t need to know what he said, Dad,” I mutter.
“Aww, Ladybug, I don’t mean to embarrass you. You two were just so cute. I’ve never seen you with a boy before and loving him. Makes me feel funny just saying it.” He crinkles his nose and shakes his shoulders.
“He’s pretty cute too, honey.” Mom passes me, pinching my shoulder.
They draw a smug smile out of me. “Now that that’s over, I’ll go call Nathan. I’m thinking three p.m.,” I say, nodding.
Dad’s face falls sorrowfully. “Ladybug, I was just joking.”
“I am too, Dad.” I go to the family room, remembering Nathan still hasn’t given me his number.
Nathan?
Yes, babe?
What time are you going to be finished?
I’m not doing anything but hanging with Taylor until you need me.
Tell Taylor I say hi and come by at six.
You got it.
We drive three hours to the Speedway Racetrack Dad says Mom’s been begging him to take her to for years. I’m not into racing, but I’m sure it’ll be fun to people watch.
My phone’s buzzing out of control from the girls as I sit, trying to at least pay attention. I’m short with most of them as they’re either complaining about me being M-I-A, wanting to know about Nathan, or talk about my rumble with Pepper at the fair. And I avoid all Glen and Scott questions. They’ll have to find out about them when we get back to school.
The sun’s out and hot, as Dad promised. I share a bag of popcorn with Mom and laugh at the angry man who gets so upset with the racers he spills his beer on his wife. Thankfully, there aren’t any crashes, and they’re soon calling it over. Everyone in our section is mad, even Mom. I guess our person lost.
On our walk back to the car, Mom complains about how the drivers were cheating. I hold a conversation with her about her theories on their double-dealing, as I’m texting the girls, telling them we’ll catch up on Monday.
I’m eager when we get back in the car, anticipating seeing Nathan. I miss him so hard I can’t breathe without my heart double beating with want for him.
“You ready to head on home, Tracey?”
“Yes, Dad.” I answer. If he’d floor it, we could get there faster.
“I wonder why that would be.” Ever since Dad saw Nathan and me last night, he will not let up. It’s embarrassing, but I’d prefer he accept this than he be against it.
I slump down in the back seat, ignoring Mom and Dad going through ‘Nathan and me’ jokes. It makes me miss him more.
Calm down, Tracey, I tell myself. You’re going to see him soon. My chest aches, forcing me to hold my breath until it eases.
We arrive home thirty minutes before Nathan’s supposed to come over. Dirtied from the outdoor seats and spitting men, Mom and I shower and change before dinner. Dad’s making roasted chicken with stir-fry veggies and his own punch. He’s so looking forward to this. I totally misjudged him about this boyfriend thing.
I take a minute to reach out to Nathan, just to make sure he’s still coming. I’ve yet to hear from him and time's winding down, but he’s not responding to my call.
“Hey, Ladybug.” Dad pushes my room door open. “You hear from Nathan yet? It’s almost six.”
“Not yet. Just about to call him.” I flick my gaze to my phone on the dresser.
“Alright. Tell him to hurry, or he’ll miss my secret sauce,” he says humorously, closing the door behind him.
I go to the window and admire the sky. Why aren’t you answering me, Nathan?
My knee twinges, struck with a knife-like cramp. I rub it, but nothing’s there. The same soreness attacks my stomach, and I buckle over, wrapping my arms around my middle. It’s unbearable. I drop to my knees and swallow back my need to hurl. It takes minutes for it to go away, but when it does, it’s as if it never happened.
I pant as I lift myself from the floor. “What is going on?”
Nathan? I try again.
Not getting an answer, I head downstairs. It’s ten after six.
Dad’s set the table, and he calls us to eat. I sit, staring at the empty plate sitting next to me.
“Looks like your boy-toy is a no-show, Ladybug,” Dad jokes.
My chest’s stricken with a pang, and I’m forced to squeeze my eyes shut to manage it. “No, something is wrong,” I say, worried. Something is definitely wrong. I beat the table with my thumb and a million thoughts race through my mind for what it could be.
Nathan! I yell.
I get no answer.
“Eat your food before it gets cold, Tracey. He’s probably just running a little late,” Mom soothes.
“No, Mom. Something is wrong. Really wrong. I can feel it.” My heart goes crazy with an ache worse than before―with a want and desire to know my mate is okay, to see him okay. I stand but sit back down. Where the hell are you, Nathan?
There’s a knock on the door. I race to it.
“Slow down, Ladybug, wouldn’t want you to break anything,” Dad yells behind me.
Hope thrills in my chest as I make it to the door and swing it open. Every ounce of optimism I have depletes.
Taylor and Rose stand in my doorway, meeting my gaze.
I can’t take it anymore. The thrashing beats of my heart become excruciating. I drop to my knees. Tears cloud my vision, and I bite back my sob.
“Come on, Tracey,” Taylor says. She wraps her arms around me. “Try to pull it together. We can’t have your parents see you like this. We need you to come with us to find my brother. Okay?” She helps me from the floor and holds my face in her hands. “Once you’re in pursuit of him, it’ll hurt a little less.” She wipes my eyes, and I nod.
The ache in my chest isn’t easing, nor is the pounding in my head, but I try to convince myself everything is okay, and I need to pull it together.
“Rose, help her,” Taylor urges.
Rose steps to my side and whispers in my ear, “I can take it away, but only for a few minutes. We have to hurry because if you break down, your parents might not let you leave.”
Taylor nods and says, “I have the story already together. Just agree and nod. Try to smile.”
I nod, and Rose’s hand presses to the small of my back. The twinge reduces, and the pain is slight, becoming sufferable.
With them at my side, I lead them to the dining room.
“Hi,” Taylor greets and introduces herself as Nathan’s sister.
“Well, their entire family is full of beauties,” Mom blurts out.
“And I have to say the same for Tracey’s.”
Mom blushes. “Thank you, Taylor.”
“What happened to Nathan?” Dad asks with suspicious, half-squinted eyes, sizing them up.
“Nathan hates that he’s let you all down, and he apologizes. He had to finish some work at the office for the new building he’s opening in Washington. He won’t be back until much later, after he completes the business plans. He asked me and Rose,” she points to her sister, “to come by and take Tracey out. To make it up to her. But we didn’t know we were interrupting dinner. Our apologies for the intrusion.” Taylor speaks quickly, but respectfully.
“No need to apologize. Nathan’s doing work for your father’s business?” Dad asks.
Taylor shakes her head. “It’s Nathan’s company. He’s expanding it.”
Dad’s eyes bulge so wide they raise his eyebrows.
“Umm, Dad, can we talk about this later? I’m sure Nathan would want to be the one to tell you about himself and his business. I want to go out with Taylor and Rose.”
“That’s fine, Tracey. Go ahead. Just be back at a reasonable time,” Mom interjects before Dad can ask another question.
The three of us turn, rushing out the door and to T
aylor’s car. Rose helps me into the backseat. The instant she takes her hand from me, it all comes stabbing back. I buckle over, falling onto my side, trying to contain the spasms.
“Just hold on, Tracey.” Rose closes the door.
Taylor pulls off after Rose reenters the car on the passenger’s side. Taylor’s flying, although the drive’s smooth and I’m grateful for it, as the bumps would make my nausea worse.
Every time I open my eyes, the world’s a blur, the agony worsens, and I can’t focus. I keep them shut.
“Look at her! This isn’t a good sign, Taylor,” Rose says.
“Shut up, Rose. Everything is fine! We just need to find them.” There’s a pause. “Tracey, I need you to find Nathan.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” I say through clenched teeth. “He’s not answering when I call him.”
“Okay, Tracey. I know you’re in pain, but I need you to calm down and focus on what I am saying.” She pauses. “Okay, Tracey?”
“Okay,” I respond, only so she’ll leave me alone. Listening to her, thinking about Nathan, and this pain is too much to bear.
“Breathe,” she instructs. “Stop holding your breath. Breathe through it. It makes it easier for you to cope.”
I’m not trying to hear that.
“Come on, Tracey. We need to find Nathan. He may be in trouble!”
Oh my gosh! I hadn’t thought about that. He’s probably the reason I’m in pain because he’s in pain. Nathan, I cry out in my head. Please be okay. “Okay, Taylor, just give me a minute.”
“No time. The longer we take, the less time he has.”
I release the hold of my breath and my body throbs. With every pulse, my vision shades and I grow dizzy. There’s so much pain everywhere: my hands, my head, my legs, my feet, my back, and the worst . . . my chest.
I pant, almost knocked out by its aggression.
“No, Tracey, slower. Breathe slower.”
I slow them and my vision finally clears.
“That’s it, Tracey. Very good. There are only two pains I need you to focus on. These two will act as navigation to find Nathan. It’s like following your heart. But you need your brain to tell you where your heart needs you to go.” She looks back at me for only a second.
Plight: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 1) Page 28
