by Lila Rose
I made my way home by foot, because I hadn’t bothered to apply for my licence, strange for an eighteen-year-old, but really, the world would stay that little bit safer if I didn’t. Besides, I only lived a few blocks away in the house I grew up in. It was an old farmhouse with a wooden shed off to the side of it. The property was large enough to have no neighbours sticking their unwanted noses in. It was quiet and very peaceful. How I liked things.
My house was a four-bedroom weatherboard home. Not too small, but really too big for just me and my absent guardian. My uncle was rarely home. He never told me what he got up to, but some days I pictured him either doing something very illegal or he was involved with the government for some reason. However, the truth was probably that he was off hunting and drinking with his mates somewhere. As long as he showed when it was time to pay the bills and give me money for food, I preferred to have him absent. We didn’t get along very well. Dad had always said it was because we were too much alike, both of us being stubborn. I couldn’t see it.
I supposed, at least one member of the family had stuck around. Even if we didn’t see eye-to-eye. I looked too much like my dad and uncle to second-guess it, but I often wondered if my mum was my real mother. From memory, it seemed she hated me forever.
Since my parents left, Dad would sometimes call; usually, I left those missed calls on the answering machine for my uncle to return. Though, they hadn’t called for a while.
Dad had been my everything. My best friend, a confidant, a role model, a peacekeeper.
It still hurt…
Shaking my head, I unlocked and opened the creaky front door. I threw my backpack down and headed to the kitchen for an apple before walking through the dining and living room, and down the hall to the end bedroom, my bedroom. On the way, I passed the bathroom and the other three bedrooms with their doors closed, where dust had settled on the knobs.
I opened my door and fell to my bed, heaving a sigh.
I had no time for thinking. Though… Isaac?
No. Instead, I reached for my history books and searched through them to revise what I was supposed to be learning.
Sometime later, my stomach growled. I gave up the books for the night and went for my usual run. After that, I would then come home, eat, shower and fall into bed, the same as I did every night. I loved to run though. It did so many things for me; more importantly, it kept me sane—most days anyway.
Chapter Two
Darkness surrounds me. Every way I turn, I see nothing but black. My heart beats hard in my chest. My hands tremble along with my legs. I want to run, to scream, but I don’t.
Because I know I’m waiting.
It isn’t until I see two small red dots in the distance that I relax somewhat.
“Yes,” I whisper. “That’s what I’m waiting for.”
The dots drift closer and closer.
And in a blink of an eye, which always makes me jump, they’re right in front of me, so close I can reach out and touch them… No, touch the face that belongs to those red eyes.
I want to.
I need to.
Even though a small amount of fright fills me, I still know I’m safe.
The red eyes study me.
“You’re mine,” the voice growls… Right before I woke up.
Every Goddamn morning since I turned eighteen, I’d had the same dream. The same darkness, the same red eyes and the same voice claiming me.
None of it made sense, and I hadn’t spoken to anyone about it to see if they could understand it.
I didn’t see the need to worry if it was set to be my future, if the red-eyed person would find me. I wasn’t worried by the dream; confused yes, but not worried. There was also nothing I could do about it. It came no matter what and, each morning I woke, I pushed it aside to continue on with the day.
On the walk to college the next day, the same sense I’d had for a while filled me. That someone was watching me. I shrugged it off; it was probably just me. I did tend to get a little paranoid.
The paranoia lingered, though, as I walked down the hallways. I felt more eyes on me than usual.
I stopped in my tracks when super bitch Jenna Avery stepped in front of me. Her evil cronies Tina, Hilary, Montana, Sofia and Monica standing close behind.
Quickly, I flicked my eyes to the ground.
“Hi there… ah, what’s your name again?” I caught her smile through my hooded eyes. She shifted her long, blonde hair over her left shoulder.
Rolling my eyes, I told her, “You know my name, Jenna.” We’d only been attending the same school together since first grade. In addition, she’d been a pain in the neck since then too.
“Oh, yes, Leila. Such a pretty name for such a…”—she shook her head—“Anyway, I saw you yesterday in the gym, when Isaac talked to you. I want to know what he said.”
Sighing, I raised my eyes and noticed there were more than Jenna and her tarts listening in.
It was then I spotted Isaac walking our way.
He stopped just behind the crowd and met my gaze with a curious one, his brows high.
Honestly, I didn’t know why—maybe it had been because Isaac was there, giving me confidence—but for once, I stared straight at Jenna and watched her shudder from my gaze.
“So you want to know what Isaac said to me yesterday?” I slyly smiled.
“Yes,” Jenna snapped.
Shrugging, I said in a bored voice, “He confessed his undying love for me.” I covered my mouth and faked a cough to hide the laugh wanting to arise.
I saw Isaac roll his eyes and the twitch on his lips.
“Yeah, right.” Jenna glared. “As if he would like something like you.” She laughed, others joining in. “You might have more luck with another species.”
Wincing, I realised I shouldn’t have started it. Me and my big, stupid mouth. What could I have said to that?
My mind went blank.
I was stumped, because I felt it was true myself. Who would even think of falling for the freak show?
Looking to the ground, I hoped I seemed to be walking away with as much dignity as I could manage. Which was what I started to do. I pushed my way through the laughter, the jibes, until someone grabbed my wrist.
My body was spun around. My eyes landed on the hand that held me and I knew who it belonged to because it had been in my face just the previous day. I followed the hand up his arm, to his shoulder, and then to Isaac’s sober face.
The hallway grew quiet. My ears rang from how silent it had become.
I waited for Isaac to say something—anything. He didn’t. Instead, oh, God, he pulled me close, wrapped one arm around my waist, the other went to the back of my head, which helped me lean into him, and then… he kissed me.
My first kiss.
Shit, I don’t know what to do.
Thankfully, my body took over. I wrapped my arms around his neck and dragged him closer still. Yes. His lips parted, and mine followed suit. His tongue ran lightly around the edges of the inside of my mouth.
That was when I woke up and the anger took over.
It was my first kiss, damn it.
It shouldn’t have been like that. Like a pity kiss.
Breaking free of his grip, I stepped back and searched his face to find he did pity me. His chest heaved in heavy breaths, his eyes sad and wary.
He was only kissing me because he felt sorry for me.
Hell, that hurts. My… shit, I didn’t even know what it was, but I wasn’t happy being away from him. My everything wanted him to take me, surround me and let me stay that way forever.
Freaky thoughts, Leila.
Isaac must have read the pain upon my face. He took a step towards me, his hand reaching out. I turned and stalked quickly away.
When I made it into the girl’s bathroom, I looked at my watch. First class had already started. I had study time anyway, and knew I should be using that time to do exactly that, especially because I refused to cry over it, not there arou
nd people anyway.
Still, I needed the breather.
Turning to look at myself in the mirror, I raised my hand and ran a finger along my lips.
Stupid, kissable, delicious prick. I wished it never happened. I wished I could take it back, get him to give me back my first kiss.
But I couldn’t and it wasn’t fair.
I fisted my hair as my mind kept repeating how his lips felt against mine, how his arms around me felt right, kept me warm. And then there was the foolish way I’d accepted him in.
Why did he do it in the first place?
Gripping the sink, I fought my emotions. I wanted to cry, to scream. However, all of it had to wait until later. When I was home… alone.
Waiting in the bathroom until break time, I made my way to my locker, yet another reminder our small country college was like high school by installing lockers.
It was hard to block out the students who whispered and giggled as I walked past.
Once I grabbed my lunch, I headed for my usual spot, the library.
Planting a smile on my face, I walked in and saw Jim, the librarian, at the front counter. He was the only person here who treated me as if I were normal.
“Hey, Jim.” I waved.
“Miss Morgin. Lovely to see you, like always. How has your day been?”
My smile faltered. “Ah, okay.”
He looked at me sternly, sliding his glasses down his wrinkled face to do so. “You lie to me, Miss Morgin. But I will let that pass. If you need to talk, I’m always here.”
My fake smile fell from my face. His kind words made me want to cry even more. “I know,” I managed. “Thanks. I think I’ll just eat my lunch and read some. See you later, Jim.”
“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. Nevertheless, remember, don’t let anyone see you eating in here, young lady. Then others will think they can do it.”
“I know.” I gave him a quick salute and grin then headed up the back to my secluded spot in among the tall stands full of books. No one entered that far up, so I knew I was safe there.
It always made me feel better if I was able to eat and read in peace. My break was over far too quickly and I had double history next. My stomach dropped, and my food threatened to come back up.
I ignored the feeling, and with dread intact, I made my way to history, which wasn’t far from the library. I glided into class and straight up the back with my head held high. Isaac already sat in the opposite back corner to my table. I dismissed the way he seemed to want me to meet his gaze. The way his head and eyes followed my every move, watching and waiting for me to glance at him.
Sitting down, I opened my book and thankfully, for once, Dr Keffen didn’t take forever to arrive. I was happy to see he was in one of his moods, ordering silence throughout the room while we watched a documentary on Adolf Hitler.
Jenna turned in her seat from up the front to smile and wave at me. She laughed with her friends and quickly turned back around before Dr Keffen had the chance to say anything.
I glanced out the corner of my eyes, to see if Isaac witnessed Jenna’s little show, but his eyes were glued to the television, which was probably a good idea. The documentary could stop my brain from working, for a while at least.
I zoned out, barely registering the words or images on the screen. Dr Keffen turned off the television and walked out. I looked around bewildered. Apparently, it was the end of the session. He was probably eager to get more alcohol into him. I quickly gathered up my things to leave before all the other students left me alone with Isaac.
I was lucky enough to leave without him saying anything to me. Although, deep down, I rather hoped he would have said something. I had an urge to give him a piece of my mind.
There was just one more double class to suffer through before I was able to head home.
At the end of the day, I went outside to find it was raining. Head hunkered down, I walked the short distance home, grumbling the whole way. My clothes were drenched by the time I arrived.
Finally, inside my house, I stripped off my soaked clothes in the hallway and headed straight for the shower. I sighed under the welcoming spray. After warming my cold body, I reluctantly stepped out and dressed in leggings and a tee. Although the temperature had dropped outside, it was always warm inside. Even my own body temperature ran a little warmer than most.
Making my way to the front door to grab the wet clothes I’d left, I bent to pick them up, but I froze. Inhaling deeply, the air from the gap under the door brought a very familiar tantalizing scent.
What was he doing here? Did he knock? If he had, I didn’t hear it, and usually I heard most things.
Drawing in another deep breath, to try to steady my racing heart. I opened the front door, expecting to find Isaac waiting. When I saw he wasn’t in sight, I stepped out and breathed in the air around me. He was close, but where?
Grabbing my big duffel jacket hanging on the rack beside the door, I slipped it on and yanked on my rain boots. Pulling the hood over my head, I walked outside, down the front steps and followed his enticing scent, which lead me down to the shed. I was about to open the door, when I heard a soft noise from behind me. I spun and came face-to-face with Isaac, wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and black jeans.
“Effing hell, Isaac, sneak up on girls much?” I glared, grabbing at my chest.
“My apology.” He smiled derisively.
“Yeah, sure. What do you want? How did you find my house?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. Do you want to stay for a coffee? A snack? An afternoon delight in my bedroom? What was wrong with me?
“Can we speak in there?” He pointed to the shed. “I’m feeling like a drowned rat.”
I heaved an annoyed sigh. He actually looked good standing in the rain, his black hair slicked down on his head. His clothes also clung to him so I could see the outline of his chest. Of course, I was a little reluctant to let him into the shed.
Still, I turned, opened the shed door and walked in.
“I came here to apologize for what happened today.”
I spun back to face him.
He gave me a small smile. “For how I found out where you lived, well, when I moved here, I was warned to stay clear of you and this area, where you do your witchcraft or commune with the devil.”
“Yeah.” I snorted. “I do both. Look, I don’t want your half-hearted apology and really, there isn’t anything to apologize for. So you can take your pity kiss and stick it where the sun don’t shine, because it will never happen again.”
“It wasn’t a pity kiss,” he said in a whisper that held a hard edge to it.
Okay, I wasn’t going to believe that for a second. I’d seen the look in his eyes.
Which reminded me that I was staring at Isaac. I turned my gaze to the wall.
“Yeah, right. Now, if you don’t need anything else, I’m heading inside.” I stepped around him, but he was soon in my way. “We could have been friends, Isaac. Then again,”—I shrugged—“I don’t really need them.”
I managed a couple of steps away from him before he called out, “Why can’t we still?”
“What?” I asked, facing him, only with my eyes off to the side.
“Why can’t we be friends now?”
“What kind of game are you playing at, Isaac? Why would you want to? If you’re just trying to impress the other girls by taking pity on the freak, then you can forget it. They won’t care.”
“I don’t concern myself with the others. They’re childish.”
“News flash: most people our age act like that.”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe that with you. I don’t get along with many people, but I could with you. I don’t pity you, Leila, and I’m not playing any games.”
I moved my eyes to study him. He seemed to be serious. Then again, he always seemed to be serious.
Was it time I took a chance on someone?
Could I trust him? The new guy, the one guy that drove my senses wi
ld and stole my first kiss.
Yes, yes, yes. Trust him, jump him, spank him. I seriously needed some private time; he was driving my hormones crazy.
Sighing loudly, I said, “One chance, buster, and if you stuff me around in any way, I will stomp on you.”
He let out a breath, which could have been a laugh, I wasn’t sure.
God, what was I getting myself into with this guy?
“Wanna come inside? My show’s about to start and I’m not missing it.”
“Ah, I don’t think that would be a good idea. Most parents don’t like me.”
“Don’t worry about it. My folks aren’t home.”
He gave me a dubious glance, looked over my shoulder and then back to me before he nodded. Without another word, I stalked off, not caring if he followed.
Yeah, right. I wanted to be that six-year-old girl again and jump for joy, yelling over and over, “I have a friend.” And a hot one I want to lick at that.
After I removed my jacket and boots, I noticed Isaac standing just outside, peering in.
“Coming in or what?”
“Thank you.” He gave me his half smile, which made my stomach do flip-flops. I quickly looked away.
Was having Isaac in my home really a good idea? I hardly knew the guy for God’s sake. He could have been a serial killer or something, or he could knock me out and rob the place. Funny though, if it came down to it, I didn’t care too much. It was nice to have someone in the house with me. My always busy, always drinking and hunting uncle didn’t really count.
Sitting down on the couch, I switched on the TV and ignored the fact that Isaac Grey was in my house. His gaze ran over the pictures hanging on the walls. I flicked through the channels.
“This is your show?” Isaac asked, standing behind the couch.
“What’s wrong with Glee?” I glared. No one should ever diss Glee in front of me; the show always brought a smile to my face.
“No, nothing, I suppose. If you like singing,” he said with a fake cringe, while trying not to smile.
“I don’t know if this friendship can continue,” I said, shaking my head at him. “You can either sit down and shut it, or leave now.”
