He looked down at his hand over mine. “Well, that explains a lot.” He sighed heavily then stood up. “How about we go get you some water?”
I bobbed my head up and down, and then he pulled me to my feet. I stumbled to the side, tripping over my feet like a klutz.
“Easy,” he said as he caught me in his arms.
My eyes instantly zeroed in on the glint of metal as he slipped his tongue out to wet his lips. A shiver flowed through my body, something I’d never felt before. There was a lot of confusion, a layer of haziness, and a ton of lust. I wanted to do something. I just couldn’t figure out what that something was. I met his gaze and then … well, Sage stopped whatever was about to happen by turning his head and guiding me to the fridge to get a bottle of water.
Part of me wonders, though, if I would’ve kissed him if he hadn’t turned away. That maybe drunk Sadie could handle those sorts of situations. Although, I felt stupid the day after when I realize that Sage probably knew I almost tried to kiss him and obviously didn’t want to kiss me back. And who can blame him? I’m a hot mess all the damn time.
Sage waves his hand in front of my face. “Earth to Sadie. Are you still in there, or did I lose ya?”
I blink back to reality. “Sorry, I was just trying to remember what I said the other night. I was a little out of it.” I fidget with the hem of my shirt. “So, if I said or did anything weird, I’m really sorry.”
He searches my eyes with a curious expression. “You don’t remember any of what happened?”
“A little bit, but not much.” I’m such a damn liar, but I’m not about to admit that I made an ass of myself by trying to kiss him.
I wipe my sweaty palms on the side of my skirt as he continues to study me intently, looking for God knows what.
Finally, he clears his throat. “So, how’d court go? I’m guessing not that great.”
My brows furrow at the abrupt subject change. “Why would you think that?”
“Because I doubt something like that could go great and …” He hesitates. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like you just ran a marathon and it damn near killed you.”
I peer at the window of a nearby store and cringe at my reflection. My long, brown hair is disheveled, my flushed skin is damp with sweat, and mascara is smeared beneath my eyes.
“I did run a couple of miles,” I admit, looking back at him.
His gaze descends to my high heels then slowly drags up my body. At first, I think he’s checking me out and my heart almost starts to flutter, but then his eyes widen and the flutter dies before it can even happen.
“How the hell did you run that far in those crazy-ass shoes?” He gapes at me. “They look like they’re at least a foot high.”
“They’re only four inches,” I stupidly point out, and then want to smack myself. Seriously, Sadie, you thought he was checking you out? What is wrong with you? Sage doesn’t see you like that! And it wouldn’t even matter if he did. It’s not like you could actually do anything about it, other than stare longingly at him. “And I didn’t really notice. I just got out of court, and … I don’t know, just felt like I needed to run.” I’m such a liar, but I’m not about to tell him about how I was running away from a dead girl and give him another reason to think I’m a nutjob. “Until I could think about something else besides my dad.”
“And did it help you forget?” He cocks his head to the side. “Well, I’m not sure if forget is the right word.”
Forget? Forget about the dead girl and her warning? Man, how I wish it were that easy.
“I think forget works. And honestly, I’d love to forget, even if it was for just a few hours.” I ravel a strand of my hair around my finger. “That probably sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”
“Nah. Playing the drums helps me forget about things sometimes. Like when I’m having a shitty day, I’ll play until I get blisters. It helps clear my mind, and I stop thinking so much about whatever the fuck is bothering me. Plus, I love playing, so it’s a win-win.”
“I’m jealous. I wish I had something like that I loved to do.”
“You don’t love running?”
“Not really. In fact, I kind of hate it. I usually take a drive to clear my head, but it’s just something I do to get quiet time. And it’s not very fun.”
A contemplative look crosses his face. “You know, you could always try something other than driving or running. Something that you love and can have fun with.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to start.” The truth makes me depressed. I missed out on doing so much stuff while I was trapped in that house. Now that I’m out, I should be making up for it, doing crazy, wild, fun stuff. But fear has held me back, like the chains that once held me to the wall. “I’m not really that fun of a person.” I shrug, feeling silly. “I think you already know that about me, though.”
“You can be fun, Sadie, when you’re relaxed.”
“You mean, like the other night? Because I don’t want to have to get wasted to be a fun person.” Which is the truth. Sure, I don’t mind occasionally drinking, but I don’t want to be drunk twenty-four seven so I can be a fun person. I need to find another way.
That is, if there is another way.
Maybe having fun isn’t in the cards for me.
“I’m not just talking about the other night. You’re fun to be around,” Sage insists. “You’re just quiet and shy, but that doesn’t make you boring. In fact, I think it kind of makes you interesting and mysterious.” He rubs his jawline thoughtfully. “However, if you’re feeling brave, I have an idea.” He hitches his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m heading to this place right now to do something that you could end up falling in love with.” The corners of his lips pull into a sexy half-smile. “Or, you could end up hating it. But you’ll never know until you try it, right?”
Hold on. Back the hell up. Is he asking me to hang out with him? We’ve never done that, except during crazy-drunk night, and I can’t remember enough to know how the night went. Hell, I barely started being able to talk to him without stuttering.
“Wait, you want me to come with you somewhere?” I gape at him. “Just you and me, and no one else?”
He smashes his lips together, battling back his amusement. “Well, I was hoping for a bit more enthusiasm about it, but yeah, that’s what I’m getting at.”
The idea of going out with Sage, making small talk with him, freaks me out. Yet, I do like the idea of trying something new. My therapist always encourages me to try new things when I feel comfortable enough. I feel almost comfortable right now, and spending some time with Sage seems … mildly doable, I guess.
If you can sit in front of your father and testify against him, then you should be able to handle this.
“What kind of a place?” I ask curiously.
He wavers. “It might make the whole experience more exciting if I don’t tell you. Plus, I don’t want you to psych yourself out.” When I hesitate, he adds, “I promise you can trust me, Sadie.”
“I know I can.” Ayden would’ve never introduced me to him if he wasn’t trustworthy.
“So, you’ll go, then?” He sighs when I remain hesitant. “Okay, what if I also promise that we won’t be completely alone. There won’t be too many people around. Just enough that we won’t be, like, alone, alone. Well, except for the car ride there.” He winks. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
A trace of a smile touches my lips. His answers settle my doubts more than he probably knows. I find myself wanting to go with him, wanting to take a break from this mentally draining day. And hey, maybe I’ll be able to discover a hidden passion.
“Do you really think this is a good idea?” The dead girl abruptly materializes behind Sage, shaking her head at me. “Is that what you think you deserve, Sadie? To go out with him and have fun while forgetting about me?”
My mood plummets. I want to tell her yes, that I deserve to live the second chance I’ve been given. But her second cha
nce was stolen away, and I think I might have helped steal it.
Sage slants to the side and unknowingly blocks the dead girl from my view. “I’m sorry if I’m being pushy. You don’t have to go with me if you don’t want to. I just thought I’d ask because you look like you need to have some fun today.”
The dead girl’s words echo in my head: Is that what you think you deserve, Sadie? To go out with him and have fun?
Disappointment sinks into my skin. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can go.”
Sage frowns. “Are you sure? Because, I swear it’s going to be a lot of fun.”
God, I want to so, so badly, but the dead girl appears again, reminding me of what I did, reminding me of why I can’t have what I want.
“I-I’m sorry,” I sputter, then turn around and run.
Run away like I always do.
I don’t want to be like this anymore.
4
Sage
I watch Sadie run away from me like I’m some viral disease, and I feel like I’ve somehow messed up.
Maybe she’s right to stay away from me. I know some people would agree with her. Mostly my dad. He tells me all the time what a piece of shit I am. When I was younger, it used to bother me. Now I no longer have to be around him.
As if sensing my thoughts and wanting to prove me wrong, my phone rings from inside my pocket, playing my father’s ringtone. I wait for the call to go to voicemail, and then I send him a text as I head up the sidewalk.
Me: Can’t talk right now. I’m busy.
I’m such a fucking liar, but talking to him will only lead to an argument.
Dad: Fine. Avoid me. But you’re going to have to face this sooner or later, because it’s going to happen whether you like it or not.
I grit my teeth.
Me: Trust me, I understand that.
Dad: Do you?
Me: Yeah, you fucking remind me every day.
Dad: Well, since you haven’t answered me, I figured I’d remind you again. I need a yes or no ASAP.
Me: Like it really matters what I say. You’re still going to do whatever you want to her.
Dad: True.
He’s such a sick fuck.
Me: Then why bring me into this?
Dad: Why not? Besides, whether you want to admit it or not, you’re not innocent, either.
I know I’m not innocent at all. I’ve done enough drugs, slept around, and done countless stupid shit to know that.
Me: Like I don’t already know that.
Dad: Do you know everything, though?
He’s hitting a nerve, and he knows it.
Around the age of twelve, my mom was in a car accident. I was with her and didn’t have my seatbelt on for some reason. I ended up hitting my head pretty hard and suffered from short-term memory loss. To this day, I still can’t remember a few months of my life. My dad likes to use that against me sometimes when he’s irritated with me. Tells me I did awful things during those months, and that the real reason I can’t remember is that I don’t want to remember how bad of a person I can be.
Whatever. He can go fuck himself. I wasn’t the asshole that I am now when I was twelve. At least, I don’t think so.
I decide to ignore his little comment.
Me: You know my answer’s no, but I’m sure you won’t care.
He doesn’t respond, which may be worse. Like the quiet, the unknown can be very unsettling.
“Hey, Sage.” A girl a little younger than me with long, brown hair appears by my side.
I smile at the girl I met a few months ago, but tension weaves tightly into my muscles, mostly because I’m not sure if the girl is a stalker or not. Our band gets those sometimes, so when someone constantly pops up in my life, I get a little uneasy. I’d probably be more concerned, but the girl is a tiny, little thing and couldn’t do anything to me, even if she tried.
“Hey, girl with no name,” I tease as we stroll down the sidewalk toward the corner.
She walks with me, the sunlight reflecting in her sad eyes. “You look sad.”
“So do you,” I tell her. And she does. In fact, she reminds me a lot of Sadie. Although, Sadie’s pain strikes me deeper, makes me ache with her. I don’t even know why, don’t know what draws me to her. Sure, Sadie is gorgeous, but I’ve never felt such a need to help someone before. And I know she needs help. Her eyes are always silently begging me to help her every time I see her. But I can never figure out why or what to do. But God, I wish I could. Wish I could be that guy for her. “But I think I told you that the last time you popped up.”
“You did.” She bites her fingernail nervously. “And I am.”
“Sad?” I question, stopping at the corner.
She nods, peering around the street anxiously. “I always am.”
My brows dip. “Why?”
“Because …” She lowers her voice. “I’m not supposed to tell you. He won’t like it.”
If I wasn’t tense before, I sure as hell am now.
“Who’s he?”
She gives me a pleading look. “You know, don’t you?”
“Um, no, I don’t.” I rack my brain for a way to get out of the situation without looking like a complete asshole.
“It’s okay. He hasn’t figured it out yet.” She reaches for me, as if to lay a hand on my arm, but I step back.
Her eyes widen as she draws back. “I’m sorry.”
I feel like a dick. Sure the girl seems a bit off her rocker, but that doesn’t mean I need to be a douchebag.
Before I can utter an apology, though, her eyes widen and she shouts, “I have to go! Please don’t tell him I talked to you.” Then she runs off in the other direction.
I realize she’s not wearing any shoes and start to question if she’s homeless.
Making a mental note to be nicer the next time she shows up—and to maybe give her a pair of shoes—I start across the street toward my hotel, but come to a slamming stop when I spot my father’s car pulling into the parking lot.
Fuck. Is he here for me? If he is, I don’t want to talk to him.
I duck down an alleyway tucked between two stores and watch as he climbs out of the car. Instead of going inside, he stands near the front of his car and texts on his phone. Moments later, a man wearing an outdated, wrinkly, stained suit crosses the street. He has a giant scar down the side of his head, and his pants are short enough that I can tell he isn’t wearing any socks.
When he reaches my father, he just stands there. My father glances around then they both head inside.
Okay, then. Either my father is having a love affair with some guy or he’s having some sort of business meeting in the hotel I’m staying at. That’s not too abnormal, I guess. Although, my father works for a science research company, so it seems odd he’d have a meeting in a hotel with a guy who looks more like one of his test subjects than a business associate. It’s also a little strange he picked the hotel I am staying at.
I wonder if he wants to run into me.
Well, he’s not going to.
Whirling around, I take off in the other direction, running away from my father, just like I tried to do when I was a kid.
The problem is, when I was younger, he always caught me. And the only thing worse than getting caught by him was him knowing that I tried to run away.
5
Sadie
“Sadie, you need to get up and move around,” a guy’s voice pleads through the darkness surrounding me. “If you die again, you might just die permanently.”
The chains around my wrist have become so heavy, my body has become so heavy. “I’m too tired to escape.”
“I know, sweetheart, but you need to try,” the guy pleads. “If you don’t, you’re going to die.”
I don’t know why he’s always begging me to live when he won’t even show me who he is. He always remains in the shadows, only appearing when I taste death. But I’m tired of tasting death. I want to swallow it whole and let it rot inside me.
&nbs
p; “I don’t want to fight anymore,” I admit, feeling as though I should be crying. But my eyes ran out of tears a long time ago. “It’s not worth it.”
“You can’t give up,” he whispers. “I won’t let you.”
“You barely know me.” I shut my eyes and let the darkness overtake me. Take me away, Death. “And if you want me to live so badly, then why don’t you just set me free?”
“Because I can’t,” he whispers. “I can’t reach you yet.”
“That’s a lie,” I whisper. “You’re right there … always in the corner … watching me die.”
“I don’t watch you die,” he whispers. “He only sees you when you’re dead.”
My eyelids spring open as I suck in a huge breath of air and bolt upright in bed. It takes me a moment to process that I’m not in that godforsaken house, fighting not to die, when really, part of me wanted to.
Even after I realize I’m alive and in the safety of my bedroom, confusion continues to haunt my brain. I’ve never dreamt of that guy before. Never remember him being at that place until now, as if some lost memory has suddenly resurfaced. I have heard his voice before, though, right before the girl showed up and helped me escape from the house. But I never saw him.
Back when it happened, I thought I’d hallucinated the voice. Now I think I was wrong. That guy was there the day I escaped. And he’d been there before … many times.
What does that mean? Maybe nothing. Except that occasionally there was a guy trapped in that house with me. Maybe another prisoner? I wonder who he is and why he seemed to know me. Is he still alive? And who was the he that he referred to? My father?
I lie awake in bed, trying to go back to sleep. But when the sun begins to rise over the hills, I give up.
Throwing the covers off me, I climb out of the bed to get dressed. But before I get too far, a light tap sounds against my door.
“Sadie, can I come in?” Fiona, who became my younger sister when Lila and Ethan adopted me, asks.
Fated by Darkness Page 3
