“Leave me alone,” he whispered, recoiling at her touch.
She blinked. “What?”
Clint grabbed her wrists, yanked her hands off his face. The skin around his eyes crinkled as he narrowed them. “I want you to go away and leave me alone.”
Lacey’s heart couldn’t have hurt worse if his hand had punched through her chest and seized it in a death grip. She bolted out of the house, swallowing past the hard, burning lump that had formed in her throat.
Leave me alone.
Her vision blurred as she shot across the front yard, its dampness seeping through her socks. Rocks poked her chilled feet as she sprinted down the dirt road.
I want you to go away and leave me alone.
She ran until her chest began to feel like it had been pumped full of acid before coming to a sudden stop that almost made her topple forward. With her hands clenched tight around her knees, she swayed like the branches of a tree in a soft breeze as she sucked air into her burning lungs.
He was going to hit me.
The thought robbed Lacey of the remaining strength in her trembling legs and she crumbled to the ground. Her butt hit the hard road, rocks jabbing into her soft flesh. The external pain ejected the inner pain as turbulently as water from a geyser. She rocked back and forth as tears streamed down her cheeks like a faucet that hadn’t been turned off completely.
Stop it! He’s not worth it!
Fighting against the forceful sobs making her entire body quake, Lacey angrily swiped at her blurry eyes. “I h-hate him,” she said in between hitches of breath. “I fucking hate h-him!”
And this time, she almost meant it.
“Identify the male of whom you speak and I will take great pleasure in making him hate himself.”
Lacey was on her feet long before the thought to move had come. Her eyes darted from side to side as she tried to take in every inch of her surroundings all at once. After several sweeps her confounded brain registered the broad, towering form standing in front of one headlight. Her heart leaped into her throat as she leaped back. “I have pepper spray!” she blurted.
The man remained quiet for so long Lacey was beginning to think she hadn’t actually spoken. But then a soft chuckle broke the harrowing silence that had stripped her nerves bare. “Where?”
With slow blinks, Lacey gaped at him. What does he mean, she wondered as she looked down. A burst of heat engulfed her head like the tip of a match striking a course surface. Too hot to sleep in flannel pajamas, she’d borrowed one of her father’s thin, white tee shirt’s, which was so big it looked like a dress on her. And she was sans underwear.
Icy, tingly darts ripped through Lacey’s body, turning her nipples into stiff peaks. Taking a step back, she folded her arms over her breasts as she looked up. Illuminated from behind by the headlight he stood in front of, the man’s face was nothing more than a shadowy mask—but she could see his eyes perfectly. Their irises were such a light shade of blue that they appeared almost colorless...and they also appeared to be glowing as they slowly swept up and down her rigid body.
Floating...why do I feel like I’m floating?
He took a step forward. “Do you require assistance?”
I can’t breathe. Where did all the air go?
Lacey took a step back. “No.”
I think I’m going to faint. What will he do to me if I...? No, I can’t faint.
“Are you certain?”
Try breathing again. Good, that’s good. Now answer him.
“Yes...thanks...thank you,” she said, forcing the words out between pants.
The man’s unnerving eyes held hers with a penetrating gaze that she felt inside, as if he was looking through her instead of at her.
She didn’t like it.
Didn’t like him.
She wanted to go.
Now.
Lacey tried to move. Her feet refused to budge. She swallowed hard. “I’m okay...really.”
He’s not leaving. Why isn’t he leaving? Because he’s wondering what to do. What’s he going to do?
The sound of Lacey’s fast, shallow breaths and the man’s slow, deep ones periodically broke the emasculating silence, which made her feel as though she had a million microscopic insects flitting around inside her chest. The tension was becoming unbearable. She was going to scream. Any second now.
“You do not remember me,” he finally said.
Lacey thought she heard disappointment in his deep voice. She couldn’t see his face, only those spooky eyes—and she definitely didn’t remember them. Or meeting anyone so damn tall. He had a good ten inches on her, which would make him around six foot three, even taller than her father. “No,” she replied, shaking her head, “sorry.”
He cocked his head to one side. She saw a flash of white, realized he was smiling. “Did you enjoy the Devil’s Food cake?”
Although it didn’t seem possible, Lacey’s body became even more rigid, as if her bones were made of cement that had just set. Her recent conclusion that the man was only a friendly neighbor seemed stupid now that she was face-to-face with him on a back country road in the middle of the night. Had he always been so damn tall? Or was he wearing lifts in his shoes? And she didn’t remember him having such freakin’ broad chest and shoulders. Had he started drinking steroid shakes every day?
The man cleared his throat, jerking Lacey from her thoughts. “Uh, yeah, it, um...” Stop hemming and hawing, damn it! “Was good. It was good. Thanks. Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he replied, taking a step forward. When Lacey took a step back, he chuckled. “I am not going to hurt you, baby.”
Lacey wanted to not-so-politely inform him that she was in no way, shape or form anyone’s baby, especially not his, but her irritation at his choice of endearment wasn’t so great that she forget the position she was in, and so she bit the insides of her cheeks instead.
“Would you care for a ride back to your house?”
Yeah, right—like she was willingly going to get into his van!
“No,” Lacey replied, shaking her head. When he expelled an angry-sounding breath, she added, “But thanks for asking.”
“Very well. I shall be going then.”
Lacey nodded. “Okay.” But he just stood there, his eerie eyes probing her wide ones. “Um...bye?”
She heard a soft growl, and it took her a moment to realize it had come from him. Her heart skipped a beat and then started pounding hard and fast when he replied, “Not good bye—later.”
One ice-blue eye disappeared for just a second. He just winked at me, Lacey thought, her scalp prickling. Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?
With movements as fluid as water the man drifted to the driver’s side door. He opened it, started to climb in and then paused. “You need to move,” he said. When she didn’t budge, he turned his head toward her. The interior light illuminated his face, enabling her to see the hard set to his jaw and mouth. “Now.”
The change in his voice with the last word was as effective as a riding crop against a horse’s rear end, and Lacey was standing in the ditch at the side of the road before she even realized she’d moved. Her reaction made her want to punch herself in the face. Hard. Regardless of the situation, she had never before backed down from anyone, and yet he had managed to turn her into a quivering mass of gelatin. It was not acceptable behavior.
The van crept by. Lacey narrowed her eyes as they met the man’s frosty stare. I’m not scared of you, she thought, straightening her back and lifting her chin.
The tail lights blinked red a moment before the vehicle came to a jerking stop.
She ran.
Zane’s unblinking gaze remained on the van’s side mirror even after the girl disappeared from sight. He should have been basking in the knowledge of her submissive nature, made evident by how swiftly she had responded to his commanding tone. Instead, he was wracking his brain for a logical explanation as to how he had been able to smell her.
You h
ave fed well over the past few days, my child. Your body is healed, your senses no longer impaired. But do not give into the allure of her blood—
“I cannot,” Zane interrupted, “for that eludes me still.”
I do not understand.
Zane snorted a humorless laugh as his head fell back against the seat. “That makes two of us.” He closed his eyes, inhaled and exhaled heavily. “I do not understand any of this.”
Explain yourself, my child.
“I could smell her,” he replied, dragging his hand down his face. “The scent of her hair and skin, even her breath.”
Impossible.
“And yet it happened.”
You are mistaken—
“I am quite familiar with the odor of blood, goddamn it. Having not been able to smell anything else for thirty years makes me an expert on the fucking subject.” Zane shook his head. “What I smelled was not blood.”
And I assure you it could not have been anything else. If such a thing were possible, I would know. Trust me, my child, it is not.
Zane’s gaze returned to the side mirror. After blocking his thoughts from Blodbad, he allowed his mind to wander back to the girl. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply. Her scent was gone. He tried to recall it, exhaled sharply when he could not.
He could remember only that no scent had ever been sweeter.
Chapter 14
Lacey gave the scooter a little more gas, sighing in relief as the building came into view. The early morning sun crowned the large, brick structure with a bright, golden halo. She never thought she’d use the words heaven and high school in the same sentence, but paradise was what she saw beyond her squinted gaze and whipping hair.
She had filled the past three days with sleep and long walks, which she hadn’t taken just out of boredom. All she’d been able to think about was how she’d reacted to The Man in the Van, a memory that made her want to pull out her hair. She’d hoped to run into him again so she could show him that she wasn’t the weak, timid female she’d acted like that night and make it clear if he ever messed with her he’d get a personal demonstration of every self-defense technique she’d learned from the classes she’d taken last year.
Lacey whipped her scooter into the empty parking space next to a cherry-red 1990 Iroc-Z. The burly, shaggy-haired boy reclining in the driver’s seat snorted laughter as he gave her mode of transportation a once over. “Nice moped.”
“It’s a scooter, dumb ass. A moped has pedals.”
The deeply-tanned girl in the passenger seat flicked her platinum-blonde hair as she leaned over the square-jawed baboon who was too engrossed in the double D’s mere inches from his face to take offense. “Bitch.”
Grinning, Lacey slung her purse over her shoulder, scooped up her school books and then gave the scooter’s seat a hip tap to close it. “Flattery will get you nowhere with me,” she said and then winked.
“Fucking weird imports,” the Blonde Bimbo huffed as The Brute cupped her ass with one giant gorilla paw. “Don’t we have enough of those already?”
Lacey took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she headed toward the main entrance. A different town, a different high school, a different group of teenagers, and yet everything was the same. Nothing ever changed.
Nearing the bicycle rack, Lacey spotted Ghost Boy kneeling in front of his dusty BMX, which had a fork protruding from the front tire. He shot to his feet as she passed by, his eyes as wide as eggs. “Darn groupies,” he said, smoothing the front of his Misfits Legacy of Brutality T-shirt. “An autograph just ain’t enough these days.”
Damn it, Lacey thought, quickening her steps. I made eye contact.
Keeping her gaze locked on her feet, the trek to her locker turned out uneventful. After shoving everything inside, she looked down at her class schedule as she spun around and damn near fell over the pocket-size brunette beaming up at her.
“Hi!” the girl squealed, dragging the i out for so long Lacey feared for the glasses on the bulbous nose of the orange-haired, pumpkin-shaped girl next to her. “I’m Rachel and you must be the new girl!”
“No,” Lacey said, pointing down the hall, “she went that way.”
With a laugh that was as fake as the hair of the Blonde Bimbo in the parking lot, Rachel shoved a piece of paper in Lacey’s face and shook it. “The Halloween dance is less than eight weeks away and we need committee members!”
“What you need is a valium,” she replied.
Another fake laugh. “You’re funny! So you want to join?”
Deciding to use the tactic that had made everyone at her last school avoid her like a Jehovah’s Witness, Lacey was about to bolt down the hallway screaming “Lawd, Jesus—the demons are a coming out of my soul!” when pumpkin girl’s tree trunk leg thwarted her flamboyant escape.
“Don’t be such a party pooper,” she whined in a voice that made Elmo’s sound deep. “Where’s your school spirit?”
Lacey arched a brow. “Out by the bicycle stand, totally forked.”
When Rachel and the pumpkin girl blinked at her in confusion, Lacey released a breath that probably matched the sound Ghost Boy’s tire made after the removal of the fork. “What exactly does this committee do?”
Rachel’s chocolate brown eyes lit up. “Oh, we’re in charge of everything! Music, food, drinks, decorations—”
“Decorations?” Lacey bounced up and down as she clapped her hands. “Well why didn’t you say so? My dad’s a mortician and I’m sure I could smuggle out some really cool stuff from the funeral home where he works!”
“Stuff?” said Rachel in a hesitant voice. “What kind of stuff?”
Lacey leaned in close to the two girls and whispered, “Have you ever seen the movie Night of the Living Dead?”
“Oh,” Rachel breathed, eyes widening. “That sounds...” Her voice trailed off as she glanced at pumpkin girl. “Um... Natalie?”
Natalie’s head was reared back so far she had three chins instead of a neck. “What is wrong with you?”
Lacey gasped in mock offense. “Hey, I was only trying to help, just like you’d asked!”
“Thanks anyway,” Rachel said, forcing a laugh as she grabbed Natalie’s beefy arm. “We better get to class.”
Lacey gave them a toothy grin as they scurried down the hall like field mice trying to get away from a barn cat. “You will let me know if you change your minds, right?”
From behind her came an already all-too-familiar voice. “How much?”
This day just keeps getting better, Lacey thought, turning to face Ghost Boy. “I beg your pardon?”
“To teach me your people skills—how much?”
Lacey couldn’t tell if he was being serious or sarcastic. “Don’t you have groupies to elude?”
“Ha, ha, ha! You’re funny, too, a double threat! Do I hear a triple?”
“I can hide bodies well,” Lacey said, charging down the hall. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ghost Boy bobbing up and down behind her as he struggled to keep up.
“Excellent skill to have. I’m Sammy, by-the-by. And you are...?”
“Antisocial.”
Skidding to a stop, Ghost Boy bent over and began slapping his knee while laughing so loud everyone in the hallway stopped to look at them. “Stop it...please...I can’t take anymore!”
And neither can I.
With a saccharine smile, Lacey faced him. “Are we taping a live television show here, Sammy?”
His dark eyebrows shot up. “Uh—” he glanced around “—no, I don’t think so.”
“Do I look like Tim the Toolman Taylor to you?”
A nervous laughed slipped from between his chapped lips. “Definitely not.”
“Then I don’t have much use for a laugh track or a sidekick, now do I?”
He just stood there, smiling and staring at her. Lacey narrowed her eyes. “Sammy?”
“Yeppers?”
“Get your freaky, albino-looking ass away from me. Now.”
&n
bsp; Ghost Boy’s smile faded in super slow motion as he held her gaze. The sparkle that had been in his sapphire-blue eyes only a few seconds ago was replaced with a hurt so profound Lacey swore she could feel it. Plunging his hands into the pockets of his black jeans, he shuffled down the hallway, his head down, back hunched and shoulders lifted all the way up to his ears as if he was trying to block out the snickers of the students as he shuffled by them.
Lacey’s stomach flopped like a fish out of water as she forced her attention back on the class schedule. The words became a blur in the wake of her trembling hands. “Oh for Christ’s sake!” she snapped, her sudden, loud outburst evoking a legion of startled glances.
Fuck this.
Crumbling the paper in her hands, she threw it at the nearest gawker and then stormed out of the school.
The living room window rattled as Lacey slammed the front door. She opened it again. Slammed it harder. Both the living room and kitchen window rattled. Much better.
Whirling around, Lacey darted for the stairs and tripped over the black, plastic bucket in front of the first step. With a startled yelp she pitched forward, arms flying up a second before her elbows slammed against the hard wooden edge of one stair. “Mother fucker!”
Lacey flipped onto her back and sat up, whispering every curse word she could think of as she rubbed her throbbing elbows. Her narrowed eyes darted over the cleaning supplies scattered across the floor. A piece of paper was taped to the side of the bucket. She leaned forward and ripped it off.
Kiddo,
Here’s the stuff you wanted.
Sorry it took so long.
Dad
“So you’re sorry that it took you almost a week and a half to get what I needed to clean this dump, but not sorry that you told me to fuck off after you acted like you were going to beat the shit out of me?” Lacey snorted. “Nice, dad, real fucking nice.”
She balled up the note, threw it across the room. “And not that you asked, but school was a fucking blast! I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun!”
Let Him In (Let Him Trilogy) Page 9
