Grave Bound (Secrets, #1)

by T. R. Graves

  When she does extend a shaky hand to me, I take it and refuse to let it go. Instantly, I want to pull her into my arms and hold her until she's no longer afraid. I want to assure her that I'd never hurt her.

  I assume she's just painfully shy, but with her hand in mine, she takes a few steps closer to me. It's a bold move, and with it, I know she's not shy at all. There's someone who's conditioned her to think strangers are out to hurt her. That thought makes me sick. I wonder if she's been feed those lines of propaganda in order for someone to manipulate and control her more easily.

  Whatever the reason behind her fear, I plan to prove to her nothing could be further from the truth. I invite her to sit with me while I wait on Tope and am glad when she agrees.

  "'You've hurt yourself. Your head is bleeding," she says, pointing to my forehead.

  Embarrassed, I rub my temple, look at my hand, and find it's covered with blood. I want to kick my own ass for my carelessness.

  "Yeah. I'm not sure what happened. I had Tope's camera and was trying to sneak up on a doe and her nursing fawn. I wanted to impress him with some amazing wildlife pictures. Before I could take any, I slipped on something and woke up a while later with this giant knot on my head, and I don't have his camera anymore. He's going to kill me."

  I wince when I think about Tope. There's no doubt in my mind he'll be real worried about me.

  Besides being cousins, he and I share a lot of similarities. Our fathers are superficial brothers who married women who care more about their social lives than their children. Because of our parents' absences, Tope and I spent most of our lives living with our grandparents.

  Our lives at Gran's and Meme's house were warm and loving. It was rich with homemade meals, summer camping trips, and family game nights. Tope and I both have a special love for our grandparents because they took over our care and refused to let our parents ship us off to military schools to be raised by others.

  The biggest difference he and I have is that I hate my parents and don't care if I ever see them again and Tope still unconditionally loves his. He's never resented their abandonment of him or the fact that they left their parents to raise their only child.

  At least he hadn't until Christmas Eve seven years ago when his parents flew in from Europe before going to New York where they planned to spend Christmas Day. His bitch of a mother, Esabel, told him repeatedly they only had a few hours to spend with him—just long enough to throw a few presents his way and rid themselves of another whole year of guilt.

  Tope was happy to take any time they offered him. One minute or one hour. After his drunk-ass dad, Reginald, gave him a condo in New York—a place for their seventeen-year-old son to stay when he visited them—Tope ran upstairs to get their gift.

  I still remember how carefully he carried the box he wrapped so neatly. He handed it to Esabel like she was a queen and he was bequeathing her his most prized possession.

  "Oh, Topie, you shouldn't have," Esabel said, stamping out her cigarette so she could see what he'd gotten for her.

  She ripped through the wrapping like a little girl. Inside was an expensive-looking box with words on the outside that I couldn't read. Esabel sent a wrinkled brow Tope's way. He was practically bouncing with excitement.

  As soon as she opened the box, Tope said, "It's a manuscript, Mom. I've written my first book."

  Meme and I both leaned over Esabel's shoulder and saw that his gift was a box filled with hundreds of pages of perfectly typed and formatted paper titled The Good Boy, by Elijah Tope Bryson.

  "Topie, you know I don't read. Can't you give me the Cliff Notes?" Esabel laughed like she'd just told the funniest joke ever.

  She didn't read the first page. She just put the lid back on the box and set it away from her as if it had a catchable disease.

  I'd never been so pissed in my life. I couldn't believe how little attention they paid to their son, one they hadn't seen in six months. Making me even angrier was the fact that she didn't even pretend to appreciate the gift Tope gave her. For months, he'd been in his room every night working on something, but it never occurred to me he was writing a book.

  Chuckling, Reginald walked up behind Tope, slapped him on the back, and said, "She's not lying, Tope. I've never seen her read anything but those stupid gossip magazines, and she only reads those because she's trying to see if they mention her."

  "Then, you read it, Dad, and tell me what you think," Tope said desperately.

  "I don't read anything but spreadsheets, son. Maybe Gran or Meme will read it for you," Reginald said dismissively before looking toward Tope's mother. "We need to go, Esabel. The plane's waiting for us." Reginald put his hand out to Tope. "Let us know when you're ready to come up and check out your new chick pad. We'll make our driver available to you while you're there."

  Tope hopped up and shook his father's hand. "You just got here," he said, putting himself between his parents and the door. "It's Christmas. We should all be together as a family."

  "Topie, we came by to see you, and now we have obligations in New York," Esabel said, standing and letting Reginald drape her in the softest and thickest white fur coat I'd ever seen.

  Reginald, who'd been drinking scotch heavily, gave Esabel a long and inappropriate kiss on her neck behind her ear before slapping her on the ass. "Let's go, babe."

  "Why don't I come with you now? I'm out of school for the next two weeks," Tope said, heading toward the stairs as if going to pack for their trip.

  Reginald put his hand out. "No, son. You can't go with us today. Why don't we plan to meet up in New York during your spring break? Call Nancy and get it on my calendar."

  Tope and I are as close as brothers. I knew how much they hurt him by discarding his gift—and the work he put into the manuscript—and by refusing to let him go with them.

  Meme and Gran followed Reginald and Esabel to their car. After they'd all gone, Tope sank into one of the two wingback chairs facing the fireplace. There was no way for him to hide his disappointment.

  In shock, he was oblivious to the shouts coming from the driveway. Meme was giving Esabel a piece of her mind. Instead, he glanced to his side and saw that his parents had left his manuscript. Discarded it just like they'd discarded him time after time. With a casualness that revealed virtually no emotion, Tope picked up his manuscript, tossed it into the fire, and watch as the pages curled, broke away, and floated up the chimney's flue.

  From that day forward, I've gone out of my way to be there for Tope. Because I know him and what he's been through with his parents, I'm sure my sudden disappearance is going to send him into a tailspin.

  I jerk from my daydream when Emily says, "Should I wet my towel at the lake and bring it back to you."

  "No. I'm fine," I say for no reason other than I don't want to untangle my fingers from hers. I love touching her. It's incredibly warm. Nice.

  Emily

  It's not until he twitches his fingers that I realize he's still holding my hand. I think it's sweet the way he refuses to sit until I sit. Levi's gone out of his way to treat me like an equal... with respect... like he's the one who should be waiting on me. It's not something I'm accustomed to.

  "Where do you go to school, Emily, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, the woman without a boyfriend, the woman who single-handedly put an end to my roaming today?" Levi says, clearly enjoying himself.

  Smiling, I shrug. "I'm nineteen, and I don't go to school. I teach. I love what I do. It's one of the most important jobs in the commune, so I was glad when Aunt Tess told me I was going to be the commune's only teacher. I'm workin' with the leaders to help them understand that our kids need more than the basics. I want them to be well rounded so the people of our commune can be more and do more," I say.

  I understand that an entire community of poorly educated people puts us at a severe disadvantage, but the leaders don't ever want to hear my opinions on education. Seen and not heard.

  "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be tellin' you anyth
in' like that. The leaders in my community are wise men. It's not my place to question them or their decisions."

  "I'm not one of your leaders, so you're not offending me. Besides, I agree with you. I'm enrolled at the University of Texas at Austin. I won't stop going to school until I'm an attorney like Tope. I want to be just like him... maybe even work in his office one day. I hope you get to meet him. He's amazing," Levi says.

  The admiration he holds for his cousin is palpable. I've never met Tope, but Levi's love for him is infectious enough to make me feel almost as if I, too, love him, sight unseen.

  "It sounds like he means a lot to you," I say.

  Without meaning to, we—as if magnetized—move closer and closer the longer we talk.

  "Why didn't you go away to college?" Levi asks, watching my every movement.

  The way he treats me like there's no one else in the world and like he really does believe I'm the most beautiful woman on the planet is as refreshing and magical as any book I've ever read or any dream I've ever had.

  Normally, I don't share anything about myself or the commune. The fact that I want to give pieces of myself to Levi and that I want to tell him things about me and my life, exemplifies the spell he has over me.

  "Owen... h-he's my father and the leader of The Community... he'd never let me do that. Soon, he'll be pickin' my husband, and it'll be my husband's decision. I'm not holdin' my breath for that one either."

  "Owen picks your husband and not you?" Levi asks. I hear a mixture of pity and anger.

  If it hadn't come from Levi, his pity may have made me self-conscious, but Levi wasn't trying to be condescending. He acts as if he hates the rules I've been made to live by as much as I do. Something deep inside tells me he wants to champion my cause and protect me from my daily injustices. His immediate concern for me—when the people who should love me don't care—makes him seem like a life preserver that's been thrown at a time when I'm sure I've been left to drown.

  "Yeah. He's my father so he picks for me. As the leader, he has to approve all unions. I won't get any say in who my husband ends up bein'," I explain, turning away from Levi and wiping a tear that unexpectedly rolls from my eye.

  All of this talk reminds me about Lorenzo, the man who will eventually be my husband, and makes me emotional. I was indignant earlier. Now, I'm just disheartened and disenchanted and depressed.

  Why can't I be free to pick someone who will treat me with respect? Someone like the man who is sitting next to me.

  I may have just met Levi, but his actions and his kindness tell me I'm more compatible with him than I'll ever be with Lorenzo. In fact, Lorenzo and I will never have anything in common. Unfortunately, no one ever once asks my opinion or gives me options.

  "Surely, it's against the law for them to make you marry someone you don't want to," Levi says tenderly.

  I shake my head.

  "It doesn't matter. I'll do what Owen asks of me. That's what I'm supposed to do."

  My voice cracks when I think again about my father's secret agreement with Lorenzo, the one he's too cowardly to tell me about himself.

  Again, I realize there's something about Levi... about him being a complete stranger, that's allowed me to open up in a situation where I'd normally keep quiet. I've been telling him things I can't share with anyone else. Not Tess, Becca, Kira, or Patti. It has everything to do with the fact that I'll never see him again after today. Something about that thought makes me sadder than it should.

  Suddenly determined to share my entire burden, I say, "I found out today that Owen has promised me to Lorenzo. He's the meanest person I've ever known, and he hates me. I don't understand why he asked Owen if he can become my husband, and I certainly can't imagine why Owen agreed. None of it makes any sense."

  Without hesitating, I pull my shirt up and lower my shorts, showing Levi the bruises Lorenzo left on me when he drove my hipbones into the hard porcelain sink earlier.

  "I'm pretty sure he'll use me as a punching bag most of the time, considering the bruises he left on me this morning. There's a few I can't even show you," I say, watching Levi and waiting for his response.

  Levi stares speechlessly at my injuries. I see the anger roll over him. I'd rarely witnessed men getting angry over injustices carried out against women. In my world, women are expected to stoically take every blow sent their way without complaint.

  Levi's anger is quiet when he asks, "How did he do this, Emily? Did he force himself on you?"

  My laugh is nervous. I look away. "Yeah... I guess you can say that, but Aunt Tess walked in and he stopped. It could've been a lot worse."

  Levi's words are tender when he grabs both of my hands in his. "Emily, I don't care what your father says or what any other man in your commune says, for that matter. No one should ever touch you unless you and you alone have given them permission. This is your body. Not anyone else's."

  I study every inch of Levi's face. His eyes are glassy with sincerity. His nose might well be carved from stone it's so flawless. His lips are perfectly shaped. The more I study him, the closer we get. Finally, I can feel his warmth and taste his breath.

  He whispers, "I wish you could see what I see. I meant it when I said you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met. You're stronger than you know. I'm sure of this because you've spent the last hour with me because I'm lost even though you and I know you're not supposed to be here with me, much less talking to me."

  Neither of us says anything else. Instead, we stare long and hard at each other. I breathe in Levi's soap and pine forest fragrance. Something about it is comforting, safe... and addicting. He squeezes my hand tighter and leans even nearer to me. Moving my gaze from his, I focus on his lips and fantasize about what it would be like to be kissed by lips as full and soft as his. I gulp around the lump in my throat.

  Licking the corner of his mouth and driving me insane, Levi is a little breathless when he asks, "Emily, would you mind terribly if I kiss you?" His words are low and seductive, but I hear them perfectly.

  He and his beauty hypnotize me, and I feel myself nod. I want him to do just that so bad that I almost lean over and kiss him myself without asking for permission.

  Levi does not move. His voice is husky when he says, "I don't want you to kiss me because I'm a man, and you've been conditioned your whole life to do whatever men tell you to do. I want you to kiss me because it's what you want. Do you want to kiss me, Emily?"

  He reaches up and runs his thumb across my lower lip. My breath hitches with his touch. The way he asks me if I want to kiss him and the touch that promises there can be more—so much more—is sexy enough to wake my senses and send hormones crashing through every cell in my body. I nod again. This time with more enthusiasm.

  Levi's lip quirks up, and he closes the distance between us, very gently touching his lips to mine. Seconds ago, I'd have thought the touch of his finger to my lips to be the most amazing feeling in the world. With his lips on mine and his heat pulsing through me, I know there's no comparison. I'm having emotions I never knew existed. I'd read about these passions my entire life, but I'd never once suspected a kiss could be so warm... so moist... so exciting. But, that's exactly what it is with Levi. Everything with him is exhilarating and new.

  Without meaning to, I reach up and stroke his cheek. If today had been any other day and if I'd not found out about Lorenzo and my family's betrayal earlier, I'd never have been so brave. Something deep inside of me is telling me I don't have anything to lose, so I take full advantage of the wildness overpowering my sanity. I can't get enough of this outsider or his kiss. I want more of it, of him, and of everything I'll be denied with Lorenzo.

  With a bold move matching mine, Levi slides both hands around my waist, squeezes me into his chest, and kisses me even deeper before opening his mouth just enough for his tongue to graze mine. I may never have kissed another man in my life, but I've read plenty of books. I open my mouth a little more, accepting anything he's willing to give. Levi takes
advantage of my offer and moans with approval.

  When he does, heat shoots from the bottom of my stomach out to my fingertips and toes. I shake. The instant is surreal. Everything about Levi and his very passionate kiss feels like a dream. The most wonderful dream I've ever had. A dream more wonderful than any I'll ever have again.

  Against my will, I'm awakened from my fantasy by a desperate voice echoing in the distance. "LEVI!"

  "LEVI!"

  "LEVI!"

  CHAPTER 3

  Sweet Sorrow

  Emily

  Levi puts his forehead to mine and sighs. "It feels like my luck may have just run out. Thank you, by the way, Emily. I can honestly say that was the most exciting kiss I've ever had, and right now, I'd give my soul to stay here with you and kiss you for the rest of my life. Mostly because this thing between us can only get better. There are lots of things we've yet to try... all of which I'd like to try with you," he says, hoarsely and suggestively.

  I want to scream at the universe's unfairness. The urges controlling my thoughts and emotions demand that I reattach my lips to his and take him up on his offer to try new things. I'm a desperate woman who's just been given hope. To have it snatched away prematurely is unacceptable.

  Instead, I take several calming breaths and mumble, "You better let him know where you are."

  If I'm not allowed to attack Levi, I decide that it might be best to get as far away from him as possible. I stand up on legs that are as weak and wobbly as Jell-O. Ever the gentleman, Levi grabs my elbow and helps steady me.

  As if seeing the world from a new set of eyes, the yellows, greens, browns, blues, whites, and blacks embedded everywhere within the forest, lake, and sky look brighter, crisper, and more inviting. It's as if the previous despair clouding my existence has instantaneously evaporated and uncovered an entirely new universe.