Three Times Torn

by Felisha Antonette

  “Stop bringing them home.”

  “Yeah. You mad?” Little Nathan asks uneasily.

  “Nah. It wasn’t Sparks, so I don’t care. I wanted to talk to you to see how you felt about it.”

  “I don’t know how I—”

  A loud explosion shakes the house.

  The wall with the fireplace explodes, and I have no choice but to watch the vast fire blast toward me. Gasping, I close my eyes, readying myself to feel the heat and be consumed by the angry flames.

  The heat warps my body, but there’s the wind, and then a heat free breeze blowing around me. I peel my eyes open, standing on the beach, watching the right side of Nathan’s house go up in a raging blaze. Alone, I panic. I cover my head, blasted by the wind of another explosion.

  Nathan! “NATHAN!” I shout.

  I’m running. Racing to the blazing house.

  Natalia and Nathan appear in front of me, bringing me to a halt. “I’m okay,” he says in a rush. “I need to make sure everybody gets out. Look out for my mom.”

  I take Natalia by her shoulders. She wails, shaking in my arms. I sit her down on the sand, rubbing her shoulder. I’m not able to soothe her how I want with me worrying too.

  Valerie and Vance rush to us, and they take a seat next to Natalia. The rest of the adults come out with the children, and I sigh, relieved the babies are okay. But Nathan, Olar, Lana, and Little Nathan still haven’t come out. I don’t see Ann and Roseland either.

  Carmen takes my hand, letting me squeeze the life out of hers. We watch the entire right side of the house burn and cave.

  My left shoulder strokes in excruciating pain. I sprint for the house, racing to get to him.

  Sparks, don’t! Stay there! Nathan yells in my head. I’m just. . . Stay there!

  I stop in my tracks, making it to the grass of the beach. Nathan, please, come out. I can’t take it.

  I have to get Little Nathan. I’m fine. Just stay there. You’re safe there. Do not come in here.

  I throw my hands up, smacking them on my forehead, and shoving them through my hair. I need to go. I need to help him. Hearing him isn’t enough confirmation he’s okay. There was stress in his voice, proving he’s hurt. Shuffling my steps, I battle staying or going.

  Going. I race to the house.

  Dammit, Sparks!

  My hand heats and my sight tints. Nathan’s words play back in my head, consume the fire.

  That’s a lot of fire, unruly spitting out flames, heating this area. Don’t be afraid of it, I tell myself, raising my hands to consume it.

  Nathan appears at my side, holding Little Nathan over his shoulder. “You don’t listen.”

  “Where’s Olar?”

  “I can’t find him and keep you from trying to play Superwoman.” He snatches me up, and another powerful explosion pushes us away from the house. We’re airborne for only seconds before smashing onto the sand. Carmen helps me to my feet. Nathan makes sure Little Nathan is breathing and okay, and I’m relieved when he props himself up on his elbows. Nathan pats his shoulder and stands to look everyone over.

  “Roseland and Ann still aren’t here,” I say, knowing he’s checking missing faces.

  A thin line of remorse sticks in his narrowed eyes. “I have to go back, Sparks.”

  The middle of the house collapses in, echoing in the afternoon air. The bright blue sky’s coated with a thick, gray, rising cloud as the fire worsens. Its smog coats the air that we’re forced to inhale. “No, Nathan.”

  “Sparks, I have to.”

  I can’t take it. “Nate, please?”

  He looks at the house then to me, then back to the house. “I know where he is. I’m sorry, Sparks. Just stay here. Don’t help.” He takes off before I can object.

  I dejectedly throw myself down on the sand. Carmen sits beside me, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. We wait, and we wait. Natalia comes and sits at my other side, and there’s still no sign of Nathan. I count the times the fire spurts toward the sky at its highest point.

  One-hundred-four. One-hundred-five. One-hundred-six.

  Finally, through the smoke I see Nathan coming out with Olar over his shoulder and Lana at his side.

  “Can you please run?” I mutter, knowing he can hear me.

  “Calm down, Sparks. He’s heavy.”

  He places Olar to the ground when he makes it, and I jump from the sand, wrapping around him. Behind him, Roseland is carrying an unconscious Ann.

  Nathan hugs me tight.

  I return it, kissing over his ash-smeared cheeks and neck. “Don’t play Superman if you don’t want me to be Superwoman. Especially when I have to sit back and wait on you.”

  “Everybody is safe; we’re all okay. I’m sorry, but you know.”

  I pull back to look him over. “I understand. I just don’t like it.”

  The fire took forever to die out after the firemen showed up and contained it. If people aren’t crying, they’re complaining.

  Nathan and I walk through the water damaged, half-burned down house, trying to find out what happened.

  The left side of the house containing the kitchen, living room, and a couple of bedrooms remain standing, never touched by the fire. There’s nothing that can be done to the right, where the majority of the bedrooms were, including the great room and the family room.

  “Who could have done this?” I ask, taken aback but the damage. “Why would they do this?”

  Nathan rubs his hand over his beard. “I don’t know, Sparks.” He’s so angry but is doing a good job at containing his rage. We walk through what used to be Olar and Lana’s old room.

  I look around, sight caught by something in what used to be the corner. It reflects a gleam from the setting sun.

  “Wait,” I say to Nathan. The carpet squishes under my shoes as I walk over to it. “What’s this?” I point to the black box with thin black cords sticking out from it.

  We crouch in front of it. “It looks like a homemade bomb,” he says low, still trying to figure it out.

  “That seems human,” I say, not able to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Why would Sephlems need a bomb?

  “That is human,” Nathan mutters even lower.

  I watch him sort through his thoughts. Humans?

  Nathan

  An unknown number’s been calling my phone since seven this morning. Sparks woke up, throwing her hands over her ears, as she does every time my phone rings playing a screeching electric guitar. It’s the only thing that can alert me.

  It rings, again, the same unknown number. And once again, I consider answering it or letting it ring. I know who it is and I know what he wants. I’m just not in the mood for threats today. With everything that had just happened: us losing the house, my mother, my losing my cousin, and Sparks losing her friend. The last thing I need is to take shit from Lunis . . . again.

  * * *

  Lunis had called me on my birthday, telling me I should enjoy the day with much enthusiasm because stealing from him will cause me not to see another lucky year. I’d laughed and hung up. We were out, trying to enjoy the small time we had of no bullshit. That small window of opportunity to enjoy life without thinking about killing someone, looking out for Sparks, our family, or myself. I wanted that sweet spot of being old enough to know better but young enough not to give a fuck.

  Believe it or not, that shit didn’t last long. On my birthday, after we’d left this lounge Olar and I used to go too often before we met our mates, he and I had run into that damn Faylaman. Fucking Michael. I hate him more now than I did when I thought he was human. I’d been looking for him to end him. A full-blooded demon, who, every time he sees Sparks he has to say something to her. And instead of her leaving, she sits there saying, you need to leave, Michael. It does not occur to her that she’s welcoming his obnoxious, request to be slaughtered behavior. She should leave if he doesn’t! Better yet, set the fuck’s face on fire and make it so he can never say shit to her again. But no, she still has those “
my first” feelings for him. That’s bullshit.

  Olar and I had walked out of the lounge and right into him and another Faylaman, Detrick. He, too, needs to die. I guess that makes me a hypocrite, to be made of demon and hate them so. But I have my reasons.

  Michael had smiled and flexed, cracking his knuckles with the stretch of his hands. No matter what form he’s in, I tower him. I couldn’t kill him right then because this girl, who was familiar with Olar, had come outside the lounge. She was bitching about how wrong he was and how he would regret cutting things off.

  I’d watched the drunk girl with red short hair, no ass, and tight lips go back and forth with my cousin. She was too fucked up to remember anything and the risk of exposure to get rid of this idiot was beneficial. However, Michael had walked up to me, standing the same height as Sparks, and said, “I know you know what I am and understand your threat if I don’t stay away. But remember, no matter what you are now, I will always come before you. I paved your way.”

  That shit had caught me by surprise. And I admit, I wasn’t prepared for his boast. But before I could react, he and his associate were gone. Ran off into the night, while I had stupidly looked stupid, standing in the parking lot of the lounge. The dickhead had a point, but it was a point I didn’t need to be reiterated.

  My attention had turned to alternating between Olar and the girl as she said, “Olar, stop and listen to me.” He had held her back by her arms, stopping her from pushing up on him. “Can you please?”

  “No, Faye.” She’d moved closer, and he had moved back, trying his best to avoid her waving hands and puckered lips. “Stop already. You’re drunk. Go sleep it off.”

  “Okay. I will if you come with me.”

  “No.”

  “You’re going to go with her and just drop me? You know, she has secrets too!” she had shouted, slurred.

  “You don’t even know her,” he’d objected, pushing down her arms she tried to wrap around his neck.

  “I do know your mate, Lana,” she’d sang. “And if you knew her, you wouldn’t be dissing me for her regardless of what she was to you.”

  Olar had charged forward, shoving her back. Faye had hit the ground, flinching away as Olar furiously pointed down at her. “What the fuck is that shit supposed to mean?!” he’d yelled.

  I’d stepped in, separating them, taking a fist to my back when Faye jumped to her feet. It was meant for Olar, but because it was more important to hold him back than to talk to her, I ignored it. We can get a little protective and defensive over our mates and with Olar and his anger problem, shit would’ve gotten fucked up for Faye. We don’t go for guys hitting women. A push, maybe, but he was far too aggressive. “Step back, Olar.” I had thrown my arm out, stopping him from passing me.

  He had shaken in his attempt for control but retracted. Stepping to the side, he’d shot her a cutthroat eye, snarling, “Tell me what that meant.”

  “Maybe you need to do a background check on your woman to see what you’re dealing with. You never really know someone until you meet their family,” she had hinted in a singsong voice.

  I had to look at her when she said that, wondering what the hell she was talking about.

  Faye had flicked him off with a “Fuck you!” and wobbled back inside of the lounge.

  I’d held Olar back from going after her. “Walk away from that. She’s probably just talking,” I’d told him, grabbing his shoulder.

  “What the fuck did she mean by that?”

  “That shit is not important right now.” I didn’t know, at the time, just how meaningful that insignificant comment was. . .

  * * *

  My phone rings again. I answer it, sure, Sparks is no longer around with her bionic ears. “Yeah.”

  “Nathan, we have never had animosity toward each other. Why start now?” Lunis suavely avouches on the other end.

  I lean against the wall, ready to enjoy this intimidating conversation. I know the role very well. “Yeah. . .?” I drag, propping the soul of my boot on the wall at my back.

  “You come in and steal from me. I’ve done nothing to you.”

  “Neither have I.”

  “Have you not? You take my prisoner and my family for your personal gain of torture.”

  That shit was unexpected, but I don’t let it sound in my voice. “No. Never for personal gain.” I take a second, registering he’s referring to Lana. “Plus, she wasn’t taken, she came willingly.” This girl is his fucking family, this entire time, and she never said shit. It clicks what Faye was saying the night at the lounge.

  “How do you mean?”

  I smile so he can hear the delight in my voice. “She’s family now.” May as well piss him off. This will end badly anyway. “Welcomed, with open arms and a hard dick.”

  “My sister would never mate with a nuisance like you, not a Newcomb. Watch your mouth, boy.”

  Fucking sister? His fucking sister! I shake my brain, stammered by the news, but say without falter, “Ha.” I snort. “Nah, not me. But close. And yes, it is a Newcomb.” I laugh. “Your sister will now be known as Lana Newcomb. Congratulations! I’ll send you an invite to the wedding.”

  He goes silent. I should hang up, but I can’t resist the enjoyment of his speechlessness. “You owe two.” A slam sounds in his background. “You. Not Olar. You!”

  “I owe you nothing,” I spit.

  “Deliver me two plus yourself, or I will come for her and your mother.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Do not think I can’t find out. I know more than you think. And with Roehl’s older sister living with you and you being the cause of his death, I’m sure she will be more than willing to release that to me. Who your mate is.” The phone beeps in my ear, letting me know the call ended.

  Same second, Sparks comes around the corner. “Hey. Who were you just talking to?”

  Damn ears. “Do you want me to be honest?” I want to lie. She’s gonna spaz out.

  She thinks no, but she says, “Yes. Though, I’m nervous that you had to ask.”

  “Lunis.”

  Her heart speeds up, and her hearing fades out but back in. She’s been having these anxiety attacks ever since Glen died. I’ve been trying to keep her leveled, but I can’t control myself.

  “What? Why? Did he call you? What did he want? Why did he want to talk? What did he want to talk about? Why aren’t you answering me?” She throws question after question at me. Her heart’s going crazy, and her cheeks are turning red. She talks with her hands out in front of her and at the end of each question her pinky finger twitches.

  “I’m going to answer you, but you haven’t stopped asking.”

  “Okay, start answering,” she pushes.

  I take a breath, bracing myself for her reaction. “He said I owe him for taking Olar and Lana.”

  “Owe him how?”

  “With me and two others. Or, you and my mother. He wants me to come to him.”

  “Do not tell me you are thinking about going, Nathan!” Her voice rises at the word tell and every word after.

  “I—”

  “No, Nate.” She whines my name, and when she does that, it crushes me, turning me soft. “You can’t. Please don’t. We’ll deal with it as it comes like we do everything else. They’ll come for us, and we’ll fight them off.”

  This is nothing like that Roehl shit. Lunis will take her. He isn’t ruthless but he’s careless, and the people he hires is vicious. Lunis won’t get the dirt on his hands, but he’ll give the order. I will get dirty, give the order, and take out anything and anyone who tries to get Sparks.

  But if they are able to take her. . . The pain they’d put her through would kill her. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally and I can’t put her through that. Leaving her may be my only choice.

  “Nathan, do you hear me? Don’t do it, please. I know that look.” Her panic picks up and the hurt from my unreleased answer sounds in her thoughts that say, he’s going to go. I just k
now he’s going to go.

  She’s right, but she won’t know it. “I’m sorry, Sparks.” I smirk and hitch my finger through her belt loop, reeling her in. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” I grab her beautiful face in my hands, tilt her head back, and place my kiss against her mouth. Consuming her, I erase from her mind this whole moment up until she came around the corner. And I replace the now empty time with her recalling I caught her, and we ended up like this. She deepens my kiss, confirming all is forgotten.

  I rarely steal her memories; I actually think making her forget things is fucked up. But it’ll kill her knowing or thinking I will go to Lunis. Her knowing or suspecting that I will leave her. I don’t want to hurt her like that. I gently kiss her lips, leaning away. “Where were you going?”

  “Looking for you. I want to leave.”

  “Leave and go where?” Olar and Lana come around the corner. Exactly the person I need to talk to.

  I need to speak to you without Lana and Sparks, I tell Olar. He acknowledges me by meeting my eyes. “Go check on my mom and make sure Carmen hasn’t turned her into a Barbie,” I tell Sparks.

  “Okay, Nate. But I’m ready to go.” Her thoughts are erotically bad. I hold back my smile to only a smirk. She turns and heads for the elevator. Her, from the back, her ass, makes me forget about Lunis. She gains less than a foot from me before I strike out, grabbing her by her back pockets. I pull her close and turn my back to Olar, and lift her by her waist onto her tiptoes so I can feel her ass pressed against me. Our heart speeds up, and her body shakes from a chill feeling me rise against her.

  “Wait,” I mutter in her ear.

  Full lips comfortably spread into a temptress smile. They part, and past them slide the word, “Yes?” The tasteful thoughts racing through her mind makes holding back worse.

  “Just a taste.” I lean down, teasing myself with what I asked for. She arches her back, pressing her tight, round ass firmly against me. A growl builds in my chest, trying to erupt from my throat. I bite it back, taking my bottom lip between my teeth.

  Sparks leans back, asking a million questions with a single look.