by Kim Chance
“Jo, you must listen to me. You are in grave danger.”
“Father, I don’t understand. What’s happening? Where’s Mama? What about—”
“He found us.”
He found us. The sobering words crashed upon her like a bucket of ice-cold water. Her heart, already pounding with adrenaline, slammed against her rib cage, making her gasp. “No . . . please, Father, tell me it isn’t true.”
“I wish I could.” His face held such sadness, such utter defeat, Josephine had to squeeze her eyes shut to keep from weeping. “I’m so sorry, Josephine. I tried to protect you, to protect my family. . . but I’ve failed.”
His words were like iron pokers to her heart. “Father? Oh God, what of the others? Of Mother? Of Mercy? Of . . . of . . .” She trailed off as her father slowly shook his head, his eyes swimming in pools of tears.
“No . . . No!” A wail of pain tore from her lips. Had it not been for his strong arms around her, she would have collapsed.
“Josephine, listen to me. You have to go! You must run! More of his men are coming. You don’t have much time.” His face, streaked with ash and tears, was as grim and serious as she had ever seen it.
“No, Father, I can’t leave you.”
“You must.” He gingerly fingered the amulet at her throat. “You have to protect it, keep it safe. No matter what, it must be protected at all costs.”
“But I’m so afraid.” The whispered words reverberated throughout her body as the truth of them resonated deep within her bones. She shivered.
Her father kissed her quickly on the forehead. “I know, my darling girl, but you must be brave. You know what to do. Now, go. Quickly!”
Josephine threw her arms around her father again, not minding that his arms nearly crushed her. “This is not goodbye, Father. I will see you again soon.”
“Go, Jo! Run!”
With his urgent cry echoing in her ear, Josephine picked up what was left of her tattered nightgown and fled.
She hadn’t gone very far when a shadow stepped out from behind a tall tree. A sharp yank of her arm brought her to an abrupt stop, and she screamed. One of the men in black had her arm in a vice, a cruel sneer across his face.
“And just where you do think you’re going, girl?” he drawled, pulling her closer in his iron grip. His hot breath sent a wave of panic down her spine. Josephine tried to pull free, but the man was twice her size. He laughed, his eyes shining. He pulled her even closer. She could see the stubble on his chin and a symbol of interlocking triangles in the soft skin of his neck. His mark.
“Let me go!” she cried, trying with all of her might to force herself free.
He laughed again, his fingers gripping her arm so tightly she was sure her bones would break. “Oh, the Master will like you, he will.” He sniffed her hair, and Josephine shrieked.
Then the man coughed and bright red blood exploded from his lips. Tiny crimson beads splattered against Josephine’s face and body, staining her nightgown red. The man sputtered and grew limp. When he slumped forward, Josephine’s knees buckled under the weight. She screamed and struggled to free herself from underneath the man’s body.
Someone yanked the man off her. There was a knife plunged deep into his back.
Another hand reached for her. She batted it away, fighting to be free.
“Jo!” her father yelled in her ear, the grip on her tightening. “You must run! Go now! Hurry!”
Then a loud crack shot through the darkness and ricocheted back off the tree line.
The sound of a gunshot.
The sound of death.
The hand that held her arm jerked once, then relaxed.
The cacophony of angry sounds died away . . . except for one. Cruel, delighted laughter echoed across the trees, ringing in Josephine’s ears.
She opened her eyes. The smoke made it difficult to see, but when her eyes adjusted, another man was lying on the ground next to the man in black.
A man with curly dark hair and a face that was the perfect mirror of her own.
A man with wide emerald-colored eyes now opened forever to the sky, as a pool of crimson blood stained the grass beneath him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
An earsplitting scream shattered the quiet of the room. It echoed across the walls and filled the small space.
I jolted upright in my desk.
Every single pair of eyes in the room was staring in my direction, and it took me way longer than it should have to realize that the screaming was coming from me.
I clamped my jaw shut, effectively cutting off the sound from my throat. But the damage was already done. Even Mrs. Runyan, who was known for her imperturbable temperament, was staring at me with wide, concerned eyes, her mouth open midsentence.
Beads of sweat rolled down my back, and my heart raced, the sound thudding like a drum in my ears. Time itself seemed to slow down as I scanned the faces of those around me. Hot tears welled up in my eyes; my cheeks and neck were blazing.
In the corner of the room, Ty leaned forward in his seat. When our eyes met, I lost it.
It was all too much.
I shoved back my chair, sending it toppling over, and ran from the room. Mrs. Runyan was calling my name down the hall, but I didn’t care. I had to get out of there.
I kept running, giving no thought to the puzzled expressions of the people I passed in the hall.
Up ahead were the double doors that led outside to the student parking lot. Flinging them open, I ran into the blinding sun. There was no one to be seen in the parking lot, and I jogged through the cars until I collapsed, gasping for air, in between two cars. My whole body shook, and hot tears burned my eyes. I blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. I hated crying—especially in front of people—but all things considered, I couldn’t not cry. A single tear slipped past my defenses and down my cheek. My mind was racing, and even after I managed to gulp down a few mouthfuls of air, I couldn’t stop the onslaught of emotions crashing down upon me.
I was absolutely mortified.
Thinking about how everyone in the room had looked at me like I was crazy made my face and neck burn. I rubbed at my temples and forced myself to take a few deep breaths.
Ty’s face floated into my thoughts. I groaned, recalling his bewildered expression. Of all the people in the world to have witnessed what was undoubtedly the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to me, why did it have to be him? My heart raced even faster.
I rocked back on my heels and tried to calm down. Everyone had embarrassing moments. I couldn’t be the only person in history to have a nightmare in the middle of English class, right?
Overhead, the sun was high in the sky, and even though it was early, it was already shaping up to be a fairly warm day. I peeled Ty’s leather jacket from my shoulders and held it in my hands, running my fingers over the worn leather.
Nice jacket.
The words came back to me, and before I even realized what was happening, my shoulders were shaking with laughter.
He must think I am a complete and utter freak. First, I get busted wearing his jacket, which I didn’t even bother offering to return, and then he sees me screaming like a maniac in the middle of first period. I laughed even harder, wiping my eyes again with my fingers. “Guess I don’t have to worry about him asking for my number,” I mumbled under my breath.
It felt good to laugh, but the small reprieve was already fading away.
What had just happened? It was obviously a nightmare, but it wasn’t my nightmare. It was her nightmare—Josephine’s nightmare, her name now so clear in my mind, much like her face.
I shivered as the horrific images flashed through my brain. The image of Josephine’s father, prostrate in death, caused my eyes to well up with tears again. I was only a baby when my parents died, but I knew well the hole left by that kind
of loss, and the feeling made my chest ache.
I stared at the pavement, willing my supposedly intelligent brain to find the missing piece of logic or reason that would make this whole screwed-up situation make sense. But there was nothing.
Well, it’s official. The only logical explanation to be had is that I am completely losing my mind.
I sighed and contemplated my next move. There was no way I was going back to English class, and since I hadn’t bothered to grab my backpack—where I kept my cell phone during school hours—I didn’t have any way to get in touch with Maggie.
I stood up and dusted myself off. The only option was to head to the nurse’s station. If I claimed “female issues,” she’d probably let me hide out in her office for a few periods. I might even be able to get a good nap in.
I was congratulating myself on the excellent idea—particularly the nap part—when the car next to me beeped. I turned around and realized I was standing next to the black car I had noticed earlier that morning.
Ty’s car.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
He was standing on the other side of the car with both arms raised in mock surrender, the keys dangling from one hand. He had a concerned look in his eyes, but that crooked smile of his made it less obvious.
“Very funny,” I deadpanned. Seriously? Of all the people to find me . . .
Ty chuckled quietly before glancing down at his shoes. When he looked back up at me, his smile was gone. My cheeks burned again as he stared at me. I was pretty sure my complexion was beginning to resemble a plum.
“You okay?” he asked.
I shifted from one foot to the other. I had hoped maybe he would do me a solid and pretend the whole debacle in class had never happened, but since that was no longer an option, I thought for a minute about how to answer him.
“Yes,” I finally replied, “I’m fine.” The truth wasn’t worth telling.
He studied me for a moment. “You’re lying.”
“What?” I snapped.
“You’re lying,” he repeated, his voice low and even.
“You don’t know that.”
“Actually, I do.”
“Oh yeah?” I challenged. “And how exactly would you know that?”
Ty shrugged. “Because people only say they’re fine when they’re really not.”
“You’re assuming things.”
“Am I wrong?” Ty looked pointedly at me.
Dammit. Anger surged through me. “You know what? You don’t know me. You don’t know one single thing about me. I know you think you’re witty and clever and all, but that doesn’t make you an authority on all things Lainey.”
“I don’t claim to be an authority on anything, actually,” Ty replied, his face serious. “I’m just good at seeing what’s right in front of me.”
“Oh, really? And what exactly do you see?”
Ty tilted his head to the side and then back again. “Well, for starters, I see a girl who is having a pretty shitty morning.”
In spite of myself, I let out a small laugh—though it sounded more like a snort. “Yeah? Was screaming in the middle of class your first clue?”
“That was a pretty good indicator.”
“Fair enough.” I looked down at my shoes. “What else do you see?”
Ty toyed with the keys in his hand. “Well, you know,” he said, with a smirk, “I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you.”
“Why can’t you tell me?”
“Because where would the fun be in that?” he teased.
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be seriously annoyed, so I sighed instead. How was it possible that one person could be both infuriating and almost charming at the same time? I suddenly had the strongest urge to fling myself across the small expanse of pavement between us. Part of me wanted to hug him or something, while the other half of me wanted very much to slap that smug look off his face. It was both amusing and confusing. More proof that I am certifiably insane.
“You’re right,” I blurted out, desperate to keep myself from doing something I would later regret. “I’m not fine.”
Ty nodded. “I know.”
Back up at the main building, the bell rang shrilly, and people began pouring out of the double doors, heading toward the gym and athletic buildings. Panic washed over me as more and more people spilled out into the sunlight. I wasn’t ready to face the gossip storm that was surely in full swing by now. I looked at Ty, trying not to choke on my anxiety.
“You know,” he said, unlocking his car and tossing his books inside, “I think I’ve had enough school for today.” He locked the car again and started walking toward the road.
“You’ve only been to one period!”
Ty turned around, grinning wildly. “Like I said, that’s enough for one day.”
“Well, where are you going?”
Ty gestured to the road. “Think I’ll head into town.”
“What about your car?”
“Eh, I’ll get it later. It’s a nice day for a stroll, don’t you think?”
I stood watching, slightly stunned, as Ty turned back around and started walking toward the parking lot exit.
“You could come with me, you know,” he called over his shoulder.
I bit my lip. Skipping school was a stupid idea. I couldn’t afford to get behind in my classes. Skipping school with a guy I barely knew? An even worse idea. I should probably just go back inside and face the music. That was the logical thing to do, after all.
“Hey!” I called out to Ty’s retreating back. “Wait for me. I’m coming.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Are you sure about this?”
I watched uncertainly as Ty wrapped my right hand with a thin cotton band.
“Trust me,” he replied, not bothering to look up. “You’ll thank me for this later.”
I sighed and continued to watch as he meticulously worked the band. The stretchy fabric, wrapped around my wrist and then woven between my fingers, was taut and supportive, but not to the point where it constricted my circulation.
When he was finished, Ty secured the band and reached for my other hand. He gave it the same treatment, and then stepped back to admire his handiwork. He nodded once, satisfied.
“Follow me,” he called over his shoulder as he walked toward the back corner of the room.
When I decided to follow Ty into town, the old gym on Elm Avenue was the last place I expected to end up, but stranger things had happened, and it seemed a moot point to question his confident smile. So, despite how awkward I felt with my hands wrapped up like burritos, I dutifully followed behind him.
Half a dozen cylindrical black bags were suspended from the ceiling by thick metal chains. Ty walked among them, running his hand along the synthetic fabric, until finally selecting a bag toward the end of the row. “Here,” he said, handing me a pair of thick padded gloves. “Put these on.”
“More?”
Ty chuckled. “The goal is to blow off some steam, not break your hands.” He helped me pull the gloves tight and then wrapped the Velcro safety bands securely around my wrists. “All right, you’re good to go.” He stepped away from the bag. “Go ahead. Hit it.”
I eyed the heavy bag. “How’s this supposed to help again?”
“Just try it.”
I huffed but rolled up on the balls of my feet, the way I’d seen boxers do on television, and took a tentative swing at the bag. It was surprisingly satisfying. I took another swing.
“Keep your wrists tight,” Ty instructed over my shoulder. “It’ll give you more control.”
I adjusted. “Like this?”
“Exactly. Now, don’t be afraid of the bag. Really hit it.”
I nodded and took another swing, this one with more force. The resulting smack echoed in my ears.
I hit the bag again. And then again.
“Maintain control of the bag. Don’t let it swing back and forth so much.”
I adjusted my stance again, following Ty’s directions, and threw another punch. And another.
Every time my fist made contact with the bag, it was gratifying, like taking a deep breath after being underwater. The tension drained from my body with every swing. Beads of sweat rolled down my spine, and the muscles in my arms were starting to ache, but I didn’t stop. Over and over, I hit the bag. The adrenaline coursed through my veins, forcing every ounce of frustration out of my body with each resounding smack.
I took another swing. Faster this time.
Another swing. Harder than the last.
Everything else faded away. It was just me and the bag.
It wasn’t until I was completely spent that I sank to the floor, my chest heaving, my arms throbbing and achy.
“Lainey?”
I swallowed hard, an ache settling in my throat.
“Are you okay?” Ty knelt next to me, a warm hand on my shoulder, his eyes full of concern.
“I’m fine.” He didn’t look convinced. “Really, I’m okay. It’s just . . . that was amazing.” I rocked back on my heels and looked up at him with a wide smile. “To be able to let go like that, to just take it all out on the bag . . .”
Ty nodded. “It sure beats yelling at guys you barely know in the parking lot, huh?” He winked at me, smiling.
I winced. “I’m really sorry. I don’t usually blow up like that, but things have been crazy lately and . . .”
“You don’t have to explain. I get it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” he replied, plainly. “I do.”
He didn’t bother offering anything else in the way of explanation, and I blinked, feeling slightly frustrated as I watched him walk back toward the bags.
For the last hour or so, I’d been trying to figure Ty out, trying to determine what was behind those piercing eyes and crooked smile. But every time I was close to forming some sort of conclusion about him, he would say something that would completely change my mind. I wanted to write him off as just some typical teenage guy with a cocky sense of humor and an affinity for dark-colored t-shirts, but it was becoming very obvious that this guy wasn’t as typical as I thought.
