I smile at them, and they wave. “So, Superman,” I start, “why all the mood swings today?”
“Nathan,” he corrects. “And I could ask you the same.”
“Like you said, today isn’t a good day for either of us. I don’t know why I’m hot and cold. I feel weird on the inside, and I need to figure out what we’re going to tell Mrs. Richards.”
“Glen’s mom?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll tell her there was an accident, leave my cousin out of it. My aunt can make it legit with doctor records, and we’ll get some police reports.” He breathes. “We can stop by today if you want, on our way back to your house. Just to tell her what happened. And I can tell Aunt Cent to get everything prepare right now.”
“You have it all figured out, don’t you,” I mumble, trying to hold back the sudden heat that brings tears to my eyes.
“I’ve been thinking about it since last night.”
I look the park over, watching us be watched. My cheeks burn, making me want to avoid their stares.
“Are you embarrassed, Sparks?” Nathan asks, slowing his pace.
This side of the park is packed full of people. They stare, either turning up their nose, smiling, or pointing. One girl even nudges who may be her boyfriend and scolds him for not doing the same for her. “No, Nathan. Not embarrassed.”
“You’ve turned red.”
“A lot of people are looking at us. I hate people staring at me.”
“You want me to put you down?” he asks in a facetious tone.
I nod. “Maybe they’ll stop.”
“Okay.” He smirks. Moving humanly fast, he adjusts me, draws my face to his, and lays a soul bending kiss to my lips in front of everyone.
My cheeks burn, but I won’t break away. His passionate caress revives my dying butterflies, returns the flush to my paling skin, and freshens the air I’m obligated to breathe. I fill up. Fill up and flow over, opening my mind to our world where only we, the stars, the sun, and the moon exist. Where we’re the universe, the beginning, and the ever after.
Whoops and awws from onlookers bring me back.
Nathan lowers me to the ground, beaming at me with that cocky smirk that weakens my knees.
I throw my hand in my face, whispering, “You are something else. You know that?”
Never taking his eyes off me to look around at the chattering people still talking about us, his gaze absorbs me. “Now you’re embarrassed.”
He is such a romantic asshole. “That I am,” I say, pulling him to walk past the people gawking at us.
Nathan pulls our outstretched arms to him and wraps his around my shoulder. He slows our steps to a sap’s pace. “What’s wrong, Sparks?” he asks, chuckling.
“Nothing.” My cheeks hurt from smiling this hard. I can’t believe he did that in front of everybody, all intimate and stuff.
“Then why are you trying to escape?”
“Because everyone’s staring at us.”
“Sparks, it’s okay. Let them stare. You better stop acting like you’re embarrassed by me before I do it again.”
I meet hazel-brown eyes, a dare peering back at me through his lashes. “Don’t do that.” I liked it—I loved it—and I don’t care who’s around. It was just unexpected. The people lessen as we continue around the trail.
“You’ve been helping me feel better, Sparky. A hell of a lot better. That’s my small token of appreciation. I wanted to make you feel good too.”
My lips spread and part. The breeze cools my teeth, and my eyes squint with how high my cheeks rise. I will not tell him I love him, or say how amazing I think he is, or even ask where he gets his amazingness because it’s that, there, that makes me love him for me and not be forced to by the mating. I’m just going to curl my right arm around his left and suck up our peace.
It still feels great out, walking hand-in-hand with Nathan like we used to, without looking over our shoulders. We chat about starting school in the fall, how family is starting to crowd his home, and my parents’ move.
“Speaking of moving, when are you trying to do this moving thing?”
“Yesterday,” he says.
“Mom and Dad want me to get my own spot instead.”
Nathan shrugs. “That’s cool too. You might like that.”
I twist a curl around my finger. “I don’t know. It would be nice to have my own place, but you’d be over there all the time anyway. What do you think your mom will say about you leaving?”
“She’ll be mad. But she understands.”
“Just me, you, and Little Nathan?”
He takes a breath. “Yeah. Olar talked to me about coming too, now that he has Lana.”
“You’d be okay with them moving with us?”
“I was thinking about getting a small house, something with only four bedrooms and a basement, but with more people, it looks like I need to consider something a bit larger. I’m used to living with a lot of people. It comes down to if you will be okay with it.”
Little Nathan’s cool. I already knew he was going to come if we moved. “Oh, Taylor and Justin wouldn’t be coming anymore?”
He’s short. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want them to?” I know I’m probably pushing it with this question. He’ll probably shut me out, blocking out his feelings if he chooses not to answer.
“No, Sparks, I’ll answer you. I miss my sister, but I can’t trust her. I don’t want to trust her, and I have no interest in rebuilding anything with her. I don’t want her to live under the same roof as us, but our doors will always be open to her because she’s family.”
Wow, a thorough answer. One point to Tracey for getting Nathan to open up. “So, Carmen, she seems cool.”
“She is. She comes around often with her brothers. It’d be her, Carteal, Scott, and me always together. She has no filter and comes off as a bitch to people who don’t know her well enough. As you’ve noticed, whatever comes to her mind is what comes out of her mouth with no regard to other’s feelings.”
I giggle. “Yeah, I noticed that.”
“She stays fifteen minutes from here. When my aunt isn’t at our house, she’s over there, so they don’t feel too alone. Their parents were victims of a Burdened case, and she’s been helping raise them.”
A pinch of discomfort attacks the back of my neck. “They’re gone?”
“Yes. But that was a long time ago. They’ve grown past it.”
I can’t imagine losing Mom and Dad. Death has me rattled if I’m being honest. I’ve never experienced anything like it, and it sticks an odd pin in my stomach as if it’s tacking a reminder note to my insides. The note may read, ‘this is what death feels like, don’t forget it.’
“Hey.” Lana comes up behind us.
“Hi. Where’s Olar?” I ask.
“He’s talking to Carmen . . ?” she trails off inquisitively. “She’s a cousin. Their talk got emotional, and she told me she needed to have a moment with her cousin without me being there. I felt Olar wanting the time to talk to her, so I let them.”
I motion for her to come over. “Feel free to join us. We’re just chatting.”
alone together
The sun’s not far from setting when we leave the park. Carmen sits in the back with Olar and Lana, singing along to every song that plays on the radio. I rest against the seat and groan out a yawn. To keep myself awake, I watch Nathan drive. It’s funny how something so innocent and unworthy of an audience can keep me engaged. He’s calm, but I can tell something heavy is on his mind by the slight twitch of his right brow. He’s like a book starting at the ending. I’m left with this gigantic puzzle of who’s, what’s, and why’s and no way to find out the answers. If he’d only let me in his head, he wouldn’t be such an enigma. The side of his mouth twitches upward.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. You’re just very observant.” His hazel eyes flick to me, then back to the road. He cracks a small smile. “We’ll talk later
.”
I get it. We’re always around someone, or something’s going on, which keeps us from being ourselves. Since we started dating, besides discussions explaining to me what’s going on, sweet I love you talks, and battling everyone in the world, we haven’t had the time to talk and deeply get to know each other, really. Our entire relationship has been about someone else. And we’ve been learning one another through each other, not from each other. If communication is key to opening any relationship, our doors are actually still locked.
We park in the driveway of a house that’s about the size of mine. Carmen exclaims, “Thank you so much, Nate. Come introduce Tracey to my brothers.”
“You want to?” Nathan asks with bright eyes and an excited smile. His eagerness to see them sends excitement rushing through me too.
There aren’t too many people Nathan gets excited to see. “Yep,” I say, preparing to open the door.
A strong hand grabs my arm. “Don’t do that,” he says, getting out.
What is up with you and me not opening doors?
Opening my door, he assists me out. “I like to be a gentleman.” He winks.
“Uh, huh.”
Two tall guys exit the house and stand by Carmen. They’re identical, Stocky and built to blind in with the Newcomb family. One is a hair taller than the other, but they both wear short haircuts, and have strong jaw lines and narrow eyes.
They turn their attention from Carmen to me as we get closer, and their stares send an uncomfortable shudder through my shoulders. I wrap my arm around Nathan’s, shifting my gaze away from them. Nathan adjusts to wrap his arm around me. It’s their presence that makes me uncomfortable. Once I meet them, I’ll be okay.
“What’s up, Cart, Court,” Nathan greets. “I hear you’re coming to wreck my spot.” The three of them bump fists.
“Yep!” the taller one says. “I’ll be there to destroy everything you have.”
“Please don’t do that.” Our house has been through enough. What sounds like a thought echoes in my mind, but with Nathan’s voice, but it’s not being spoken to me. “This is my Sparks. Sparks, this is Courtney.” He points to the taller one. “And that’s Carteal,” he introduces, pointing to the other.
“Her real name’s Tracey,” Carmen says, pursing her lips at Nathan.
“Hey, Tracey,” they sing.
Nathan meets my eyes and nods. I give the brothers a smile and say, “Hi. Carmen insisted we become acquainted.”
“She must like you,” Carteal starts. “She usually doesn’t like to introduce us to anyone.” He takes a pause. “Me, maybe. Courtney, not so much.” I join their laugh.
“Don’t act like I’m the worst one.” Courtney smacks Carteal’s back, and Cartael glowers at him. “Tracey, I’m the best out of the two of them.”
“Yeah, right. Really? Never,” the three say in chorus.
He throws his hands up, exclaiming, “What!”
“Alright, we’ll see you all later.” Nathan lightly pinches my arm, grabbing my attention to head back to the car.
I wave. “Bye. I guess I’ll be seeing you all soon.”
“Bye, Tracey.”
At a good enough distance away from the siblings, I ask, “Why do I still need your permission before I speak to other men? I’ll feel fine, then when they look at me, I get totally uncomfortable.”
“That’s you, not trusting. You’re strong, Sparks. And do a pretty damn good job of taking care of yourself. If you believe in yourself and know no harm can come against you, you can conquer the world, baby. Soon as you accept that, you won’t need my permission to talk to people. You’ll feel confident in yourself. And as soon as you get used to the bond, it’ll make a lot of things a lot easier for you. I hate to say it. But—”
I throw my hand up, cutting him off. “I know, Nate. You told me so.”
He looks down at me from the corner of his eye. “And you say you can’t read my mind.”
Bumping him with my hip, I chaff, “Hush.”
I swallow hard. An oversized lump has lodged itself in my throat. I lift my gaze to Glen’s house from the spot I stand in the driveway, and the small house seems to grow further and further away from me. My breaths quicken. Minutes pass as I try to ease the sorrow from the words I’m about to deliver to my best friend’s mom. Mrs. Richards isn’t the nicest person. She never gave a shit about Glen or what she did. There’s no telling how she’s going to take the news.
A car door opens, then closes. Nathan comes to my side, places his hand to the small of my back, and with his gentle push, I step forward. My heart’s pounding, but my chest feels empty.
I step upon the porch.
Nathan knocks. I lock my knees to stop them from trembling. He laces our fingers, trying to bring me down. “Your heart is going insane, Sparks. Calm down.”
The lock clicks, and the knob turns. My chest rises and falls with rapid breaths. The door swings open and Mrs. Richards stands in the doorway, bloodshot eyes shifting from me to Nathan and back. The dark circles and aging wrinkles piled in the outer corners of her eyes reveal her tiredness and that she may not have gotten a good rest in a while. At forty-two, it’s obvious her life choices have weighed on her. I take her in, and the words run away from my tongue, seeing at her shoulder length hair matted and tousled around her head.
I can’t tell her. I can’t. She looks horrible. I can’t make her feel worse.
She stares at me staring at her, until, “What, Tracey? Glen isn’t here.”
You want me to tell her? Nathan asks.
No. I throw my hand out to catch the closing door. “Wait. I know Glen isn’t here. Mrs. Richards, can I come in to talk to you?”
“No. What is it you kids want?”
Ugh . . . I take a deep breath, fixing my words. “It’s Glen . . .” I pause, needing to remove the croak from my throat. “She was in an accident.” I look away from her, adding, “She didn’t make it.” The door slams in my face, forcing me to jump back.
Mrs. Richards screams, and something falls followed by what sounds like her hands slapping the floor. It echoes throughout her home but is drowned out by another wail.
I know Mrs. Richards well enough to stay away, but I won’t let her breakdown alone. Taking the doorknob in my free hand, I let go of Nathan as I enter the half-empty home. As I interpreted, she’s on the floor, head to the carpet, weeping. I crouch down beside her and cautiously place my hand on her back.
The instant I touch her, she cries harder. I’ve grown to realize there’s a strong power in a touch, and this is further proof of that. It says more than any words I could make. I’ll never know what my touch is doing for her, but I know it doesn’t hurt, and I think she might appreciate it.
Her heartbeat’s easier to hear than others, it’s almost too loud, sounding over her sobs. I sit beside her on the floor. The faint scent of narcotics and old beer turns my stomach. Mrs. Richards has always had a battle with drugs. It was the motive behind Glen never wanting to be at home and why she never had much respect for her. She believed her mother didn’t love her. I can hear her saying, ‘if she did, Tracey, she wouldn’t suck that shit down her throat, distracting her from me, more worried about getting high with my sister.’ I didn’t know enough about that kind of situation to give advice, but I know it affected her and was the reason she was always so rude and bitchy. She was neglected and her, sometimes, wretched attitude was her crying out for attention. Her mom just never cared. Then along came Scott. . . I can honestly say, sitting in the middle of the floor, in the dark with Mrs. Richards as she cries over her daughter . . . she loved her. Everyone in Glen’s life had a strange way of showing their love for her. I wish she could’ve seen and heard some things I have from these people. She might’ve been happier.
Mrs. Richards’ sobs calm to even breaths, and she stops shaking. Nathan lifts her sleeping body from the floor and lays her on the couch in her living room. I take off her shoes and throw a blanket over her. We lock the door on ou
r exit and head for the car.
The sun’s dipped beneath the earth, and the moon’s creeping into the sky. Olar and Lana are in the backseat, all over each other. Nathan clears his throat.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Tracey,” Lana mutters, embarrassed as she and Olar shuffle away from each other.
“It’s fine.” I tug on my seat belt. “I’m used to it.”
“While we’re over here,” Nathan starts the engine. “We should check on my aunt and uncle.”
“That’s a good idea,” Olar agrees. “I haven’t heard anything since I told them.”
We drive to the other side of the neighborhood, to Scott’s and my house. I haven’t met Scott’s parents as a part of the family yet, and I would’ve preferred it not to be under these conditions when we did officially meet.
The four of us get out and crowd around Scott’s front door. Nathan knocks.
“It’s Nathan and his mate, feels like Olar, and he has a mate as well,” a woman says from somewhere within the house.
The door swings open. “Hello, Nathan, Tracey, Olar, and Lana, correct?” Mr. Fallon looks to Olar, and he nods. “Come in.” His voice is friendly, not mournful. It’s a great relief to see his bright smile instead of the sorrowful expression I was expecting.
“Hello. How has everyone been?” Mrs. Fallon asks as we join her in the living room. She isn’t as bright as her husband. Grief darkens in her deep green eyes. They shift to Nathan and fill with tears when they lock gazes. Permanent creases pinch the corners of her eyes, and it looks as if her chin has trembled for so long it’s permanently scrunched upward.
Nathan curls his arms around me. His tenseness makes his body rock hard as though his defensive shield was intact. Rubbing his arms, I try to suck away the misery. He turns his head to the side of mine and inhales through his nose. Stay calm, Nate. Let her scent calm you down.
I crinkle my nose. There it is again. . . He takes another breath, and I hear his sigh in my head.
Olar talks about Lana to Mr. and Mrs. Fallon. Every time the subject changes, he brings it back to her. They smile and nod, engaging him with questions and compliments.
Brazen: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 2) Page 41
