Infinity Chronicles Book One: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Series

by Albany Walker

  Milo’s mouth opens like he's about to say something, but he freezes. His eyes are a dark navy blue; so dark in fact that I bet if I wasn't staring right back at him, I would have mistaken them for dark brown, almost black. Something familiar tugs at me as I watch transfixed, as his pupil shrinks the tiniest bit, allowing me to see how the intense blue ring around his eyes fades to a shockingly light blue. It's almost like he has two different colors in his eyes—the transition is that astonishing.

  I glance away then, realizing that if I can see the fine details of his beautiful eyes, he can see the strange abnormality in mine.

  “Holy shit,” the same unfamiliar voice mutters slowly.

  Another thump is quickly followed by Dante’s deep voice asking, “So how was your shift Laura?” I glance over at him, grateful someone is trying to break this floundering situation.

  “Okay, I guess. We stayed pretty steady.” I shrug and rub my cheek against my shoulder. I can feel both the boys across the table assessing me. I feel like I have something on my face with the way they won't stop looking.

  Nervous energy has me pulling and running my hands along the strap of my bag, which is crossed over my chest.

  “Did you eat?” Oliver blurts out like he's been trying and failing to come up with something to say. I tilt my head, staring over at him from his outburst.

  “Uh, no. I guess I haven't,” I recall, thinking I should have grabbed something, but I just wasn't hungry, too worried about my mom to be concerned with eating.

  He shoves Milo over a bit as he tries to escape the booth. “Let me go put an order in with Gran and Gus before he shuts down the grill.”

  Milo hastily stands up to let a rushing Oliver out from his inside seat, and we all watch as he passes through the kitchen doors.

  “Hope you like burgers,” Dante remarks as Milo slides back into his seat, “cause I'm sure that's what he's getting. The bigger and greasier, the better if you ask Ollie.”

  I'm not sure how to respond or if he even expects me to, so I just sit there wondering how I've managed to get myself in this situation.

  “Football's about done, when's the last game again?” Dante asks Milo, who looks the slightest bit confused before he answers.

  “Last game's the weekend before Halloween. Remember?”

  “Yeah that's right.” Dante nods. “What did coach want after the game Saturday?”

  Milo is slow to respond and when he does, he sounds like he’s talking to a young child. “He just wanted me to spend a few extra hours at the gym this week with coach Bills, but didn't we already talk about this?”

  Dante tilts his heads toward me and widens his eyes. Before either of them can say anything else I quietly interrupt, “I should probably get going.”

  Both boys turn to me when I speak. Their attention is a little overwhelming.

  “But...” Dante searches for something to say. “Ollie will be back any minute, and he probably already ordered you something,” he finishes.

  I feel heat in my cheeks and try with all my might to find an excuse why I'd need to leave right away. Dante looks over at Milo like he might add something, but he doesn't. Just as I’m about to open my mouth and insist I need to go, the kitchen doors swing open and out backs Oliver.

  He's holding four blue tinted clear plastic cups with his fingers wrapped around them the way someone familiar with serving does. Oliver brings them to the table without spilling a drop of the liquid, which is dangerously close to the top. He sets them down and divides the cups between each of us as he looks over the table.

  “Miss me?” he jokes to our quiet group. His eyes scan the three of us and his brow furrows. “I had to promise Gus we’d help him wax the floor next month, so he’d fire the grill back up.” Oliver slides into the seat easily.

  Milo snorts, “We always do.”

  Oliver rolls his eyes but grins. “We know that, but he needed to hold something over our heads.”

  With Oliver back at the table, he doesn’t let awkward silence fill the space between us. I'm not nearly as desperate to flee. Time passes so quickly before I know it, Maggie has a tray loaded with several meals headed to our table.

  Once all the plates are down and Maggie has returned to the kitchen with a warning the kitchen is closed, I eye all the dishes before me. There are a least seven full meals packed on the table.

  “Went with a little of everything,” Oliver explains to the once again quiet table.

  That he did. There are chicken fingers, a huge plate of lasagna with a butter dipped breadstick, a few plates of burgers, and even what I'm pretty sure you'd call a sampler plate filled with tons of fried goodness.

  My mouth waters at seeing it all and my stomach lets out an embarrassing growl.

  My hand flies to cover my belly button, trying to somehow hold in the mortifying sound, but it’s a little too late. Dante lets loose a low chuckle and Oliver grins like what just happened was the cutest thing he's ever heard.

  “Why don't you choose first?” Milo says when no one else reaches for anything. My eyes widen and I give a quick shake of my head in dismissal.

  “Well,” Ollie starts, “I want a burger, we all know that.” He winks at me again when I look up at him as he grabs the biggest burger I've ever seen come out of the kitchen. The other two look around the table and they each glance at each other before shifting the plates around so they each have burgers in front of them. Milo's is piled high with a fried egg and guacamole, while Dante’s has thick slices of crunchy bacon falling out the sides.

  It seems that Oliver knew exactly what to order for the guys and I'm left with the thought that all this extra food is for me, or at least for me to pick from.

  The gesture of kindness is more than I've ever been given, and it makes me feel guilty I was trying to leave earlier.

  “Well, what will it be Laura? You better pick cause these guys have no problem eating all of it.”

  Feeling slightly mollified that maybe this wasn't all for just me, I reach for the plate that makes me lick my lips in anticipation.

  The lasagna is piping hot with layers of gooey melted cheese and thick noodles. I'm in heaven after the first bite. The breadstick leaves my fingers full of greasy butter and salty goodness, making it hard not to lick the deliciousness right off my fingers, but I refrain.

  The table is quiet again, but not the awkward silence it was before. Now it's just the lull that happens when hungry teenagers fall upon food, keeping us from acknowledging each other.

  Half way through my meal, my bites slow. My tummy is getting pretty full considering I don't usually wait all day to eat, and then scarf down a huge dinner.

  Trying to be sneaky, I peek up at the guys as they eat. Surprisingly Oliver’s plate is almost empty, and he's reaching past Milo to get the cheese sticks on his plate. Without missing a beat or even looking up Milo grabs the fried cheese and hands it over before Oliver touches it.

  It seems these boys have either been friends for a long time, or they're all really comfortable together. A thought sparks as I watch them move effortlessly around each other. Snagging food from each other's plate, leaning on one another to reach for something on the others’ plates, or to grab the ketchup and salt.

  Maybe they're together, together. Like romantically. My head tilts as I examine them in a new light. A slight pang rattles my chest, or is it stomach? I’m not sure which, but I don't think I like that thought for some reason.

  I peek over at Dante quickly and notice he's staring at me in much the same way I am him. He couldn't know what I'm thinking, but I still feel a weird sense of guilt,

  which doesn't even make sense.

  I feel a hot wave of jealousy when I think about him with Delaney, and now I'm feeling something akin to that when I think about the two boys in front of me being an item?

  I shake my head in refusal at the thought and dismiss it just as quickly. I'm probably feeling a bit of a crush for all of them because this is the only real attention I'
ve ever received.

  “What was that?” asks the voice I'm starting to associate with Milo. Snapping out of my head, I snap my gaze toward him then down at my food briskly.

  “Did you say something?”

  I look around again, wondering who he's talking to.

  “Laura?” I jump when he says my name.

  “Me? No,” I reply then clear my throat.

  “Oh, thought I saw you shaking your head. I was wondering what I missed,” Milo continues while pulling something half eaten right out of Oliver hand then shoving it in his mouth before Oliver can protest. His mouth is still open, and he grunts and grabs an onion ring instead.

  My suspicion confirmed about their relationship, I find a small smile tipping my lips, even with my crush they're impossibly cute with each other.

  Eight

  Maggie comes by once to check on us, but the guys dismiss her quickly, promising to clean up after themselves.

  It's nearly five o'clock when Dante leans back in the seat with his hand draped over his stomach. “Oh god, I already regret that,” he moans.

  I don't know how they did it, but almost all the plates are empty. Between the three of them there’s barely a crumb left. I now feel silly for ever thinking they ordered all that just so I could pick what I wanted, but I’m grateful for the distraction of their company. I've been way to consumed with them to obsess over where my mom is, or if she's coming back.

  They talk easily with each other now that the strangeness of my presence seems to have worn off for them. Most of the time they carry on as if I'm not even here, not that they're ignoring me, more like they're so comfortable with each other they can't help the way they react to one another. I find myself engrossed in watching them, paying way too much attention to every movement Oliver and Milo make, since they're easier to watch seated across from me.

  Dante’s presence almost becomes bearable next to me. I'm relaxed enough that some tension in my shoulders has lessened. My elbow lifts to the table and I lean my cheek and temple on my palm.

  They're talking about school and assignments, a paper none of them want to start is due, and I blink slowly. My belly is full and last night’s sleeplessness seems to be catching up with me.

  A warm tingle buzzes across my cheek. I sigh and lean into the felling. My head falls and I'm jolted awake right when my shoulder collides with something hard and warm.

  It barely takes a second before I realize where I am and who I'm with. Mortification is swift as it burns my cheeks and gives way to shame. Good god, what was I thinking? Was I drooling, how long was I asleep?

  “Laura,” Dante’s deep voice croons, while I rub both hands over my face to hide the redness I know must be there.

  “I'm so sorry,” I mutter through my hands.

  “Kill a guy’s ego, would you?” I peek through my fingers at Oliver. “All three of us combined aren't entertaining enough to keep one beautiful girl awake with our thrilling conversation.” He smiles at me through his impressively long eyelashes I'm secretly cursing him for. He's the jokester of the group, keeps everything lighthearted. I blush harder from the compliment.

  “Didn't sleep well last night?” Milo asks with a small frown on his face.

  “No, not really,” I answer finally, sitting up. When the silence stretches, I give a shaky excuse about needing to get home.

  Dante stands slowly and extends his hand down to tug me from the seat. The moment my hand is in his, I sense that same pooling warmth and a brush of something familiar against my senses.

  Caught off guard I start to ask, “Do you feel that?” But before he can answer, the door opens with a jingle and we're interrupted. My hand is still in Dante’s when Delaney walks up to the table. Her eyes are trained on the exact spot our skin is connected, and where the tingle is coming from. I jerk my hand free and rub my palm over the rough denim covering my thigh.

  “Cozy, cozy, cozy,” she hisses, eyes now narrowed in my direction.

  One of the guys huffs or snorts as a reply.

  “Thought you had plans with the guys today Dante?” Delaney accuses in a whiny tone.

  “I did, do,” growls Dante past a clenched jaw. Great, now I've gotten him in trouble.

  Without me even noticing, I've somehow been shuffled to the back of the group.

  “How did you guys end up here with her?” Her tone makes it clear what she thinks of me.

  “Delaney,” Dante barks, “I’ve told you I can't do weekends, so if you need to find someone else for the position then do it, but I need you to respect that or I'll walk!”

  From behind Oliver’s back, I see her lips soften and turn into a pout.

  “I'm sorry Dante,” she coos softly. “You know how I get. I just want the best and that's you.” Her fingers crawl up his arm as she takes a step closer. I turn away before I witness anymore.

  Desperation leaks from her in spades. I almost feel sorry for her, that she'd be willing to let him treat her this way. If I was in her shoes, would I do the same? No, I think with a small amount of conviction. I want to be wanted by someone. I never want to be the person who someone settles for.

  Slowly, I take a few steps back. No one notices when I pass through the kitchen doors and escape out the service entrance.

  The further I get from the diner, the more anxious I get. Between wanting to disappear from the Dante and Delaney situation and worrying about what I'll find when I get home, I'm at a near jog.

  Unlocking the door I already know the truth. She’s not here. She left me. With no explanation. Nothing.

  Did I become akin to one of the places she needed to run from? More importantly, where did she go, and how will she survive?

  I drop down onto the old sofa, collapsing on myself.

  The heavy weight of tears stings my eyes, but the dampness stays pooled there. Thoughts of the past few weeks assault me—was there something wrong that I didn't know, and was she hiding something from me? Other than her sleeping way more than usual, I can't think of anything that seemed off… wait, there was the night I woke to hear her talking, possibly to someone. Who could it have been? I just figured she was talking to herself, maybe a new symptom of her psychosis. But perhaps not, maybe it was somebody, and that's who she's with. I never could make out anything she said, just the sound of harsh whispers and an undeniable urgency. Then an even worse thought comes—what if she didn't choose to leave, what if someone made her, or even took her?

  The rumble of a car in the distance frightens me in a way I'm not familiar with. I'm alone now, so alone. Without the constant presence of my mom and the persistent need to take care of her, the sick game of 'what if' continues in my head.

  I jump up and check the door to the RV. The only place I've ever really known as home, and the place that always felt somewhat safe, now feels like a tin can. The thin walls and flimsy door offer little to no protection if someone wanted in. I shake my head in denial and step back from the locked door. I won't do this. I'm not going to let this fear incapacitated me. I need to find out what happened to my mom.

  I tried to sleep in the bed, but it was no use. Everything seems unfamiliar and I couldn't bring myself to be that far away from the door. Our things surround me as I wiggle into the small sofa. I take comfort she hasn't disappeared completely. I drape her thin teal blanket over me as I close my eyes and try to pretend she's in the kitchen, scrubbing the tiny counter for the seventh time today. I feel strange and out of sorts. I've never been this needy girl. I've always been the one taking care of her, now I actually feel like the seventeen-year-old girl I am.

  I spend a long time telling myself to settle down, stop thinking. My body and brain need the rest.

  It isn't quick, but sleep does eventually come.

  I wake several times during the night, awareness making me slightly panicked, but I’m so exhausted I fall back to sleep almost immediately. The alarm that’s still in my room rouses me. I'm bone weary when I make my way toward the back of the motor home. Schoo
l seems so unimportant right now, but I have no idea what else to do with myself, so I get busy getting my things together for a shower.

  I keep my eyes open and searching on the walk to school, usually I keep my focus on the ground in front of me, but I keep thinking I'll get some clue as to where my mom is, catch site of her or something.

  Unfortunately, I arrive at the school quickly and without any insight into my mother’s disappearance. Everyone and everything are moving along without a hint that my tiny world just might be imploding.

  All the cliques are gathered much like last week and it's when my eyes land on Delaney that I remember what happened last night.

  I was too concerned with my mom issues to think about what my little distraction with the guys might cost me at school since she caught me with them.

  A groan I can't control works its way up my tight throat. Neither she nor the girls gathered around her have glanced my way yet. I wonder if she told them I was at the diner last night, or maybe I'll get lucky and she'll keep that little tidbit to herself, not wanting to admit her boyfriend blew her off.

  Speaking of which, I spot Oliver’s long light hair moving through the crowd. Milo and Dante are right on his heels. They stop as soon as they reach the sidewalk that leads to the parking lot and scan the tree line. If I didn’t know better, I'd say they were looking for someone—looking for me? As soon as the thought pops into my head, Oliver’s hand shoots up in the air and he points directly at me. I turn, making sure there's no one behind me, but I already know there isn't. With a nod of his head he motions for me to come forward.

  He's gained some attention with his exaggerated movements and now I feel like half the school is watching us. With sluggish feet and my eyes on my shoes, I make my way over to him while he continues walking toward me.

  “Hey Laura, you disappeared on us last night.” Thankfully we're far enough from the other kids that I don't think they can hear his words.