Back to You (Don't Forget Me Book 2)

by Sia Wales

  Before Jason let his mask slip and came back as a half-werewolf vampire, I imagined him, in the moments I let my mind wander his way, with the same blue eyes framed by the rosy skin he always had. The rosy skin of humans.

  Now his complexion is as pale as chalk and his skin as smooth and hard as marble. As cold as a block of ice. We stop at the doorway and the rain begins to fall, just a few light drops that barely make a sound as they fall. I long for the storm or the lightning, and look hopefully skyward. But Jason is leaving and I lower my eyes.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Where do you think?”

  “You’ll freeze out there on foot and then on your motorbike in this rain!”

  “Not me,” he replies cheerfully. “My average body temperature is 10 degrees above zero, just lately. I don’t feel the cold.”

  “So you feel warm enough, despite that?”

  “It’s a little cold out,” he agrees, laughing. “But I doubt if I’ll need thermal underwear. I’ll just wait for you to get inside.”

  “I wish you could come in,” I say softly, sneaking a quick glance at the light from the television filtering through the drapes.

  “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I had planned.” He places my right palm on his heart. “You are all I really want, and I want to do things right.” He kisses the back of the other hand.

  “According to which criteria?”

  “Mine.”

  “How would you do things right?”

  “By being responsible,” he says, matter-of-factly, then smiles and nods toward the door.

  “You wouldn’t do it if you had an ounce of good sense,” I mutter, as I imagine Jeff’s reaction, which sends a shiver down my spine.

  As he looks at me self-righteously, Jason rings the doorbell.

  I’m half a step behind him. My father hurries to open the door, and as he does so the sound from the TV blasts out.

  For a second, I stand on tiptoe, readying myself to creep into my room, for fear of what might happen. I know how Jeff is pissed at him for making me suffer so. But I plant my feet firmly back on the wooden deck of the porch and wait.

  “Good evening, sir,” says Jason politely.

  Jeff’s eyebrows shoot up.

  “Oh … Jason. Welcome back.”

  Jason smiles; he really has decided to start again from scratch.

  “Call me Jeff,” adds my father.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “You’ve been away for a while.”

  “More than a year.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “South America. Argentina, to be precise.”

  We both raise our eyebrows and I shoot a quick glance at Jason.

  “And will you be returning soon?” asks Jeff.

  “No, I’m planning to stay in Boston.”

  “Right. Just as long as you don’t put any funny ideas into Ella May’s head… hitchhiking around the country or other new-age absurdities.”

  Jeff laughs to break the tension, and Jason joins in. I look at Jason and roll my eyes without my father noticing.

  “No, no, sir… don’t worry.”

  The conversation proceeds in this civil and diplomatic manner for a few more seconds until Jeff turns and goes back into the house to let me say goodbye to Jason in privacy.

  His intense gaze meets mine, his icy hand slides down my face, caressing my cheek. He glances up and down the street, then moves in for a kiss. But he plants it just under my cheekbone. My heart leaps frantically, but then I feel him pull away. I scan the neighborhood to see if something, someone is making him hold back.

  The light drizzle turns into a heavy downpour, the only sound is the thud-thudding of rain against the roof. I nod a last goodbye and stand there watching as he walks away and disappears into the deluge from the skies above and then into the black of the night.

  The bonfire

  It’s as though I have gone back in time to exactly one year ago, but this time it’s different. Jason is back for good. I feel a spontaneous smile break out on my face. I laugh. Yes, finally I’m laughing, and not because Jeff is cheering his basketball team on like a madman, thinking that no one else can hear him.

  I feel lighthearted and can’t stop laughing. I don’t want to, I don’t want this feeling to ever go away. I couldn’t say which emotion reigns––relief or surprise. The drops no longer fall from up above, but fall diagonally from the west, but I don’t even notice it’s raining. He just needs time, I keep repeating to myself. This moment will pass.

  I can’t bear the thought of having had to say goodbye to him, it hardly matters that I will see him again tomorrow. Maybe things will be the same as they were today. Maybe… maybe this won’t last either, but I’m not ready to face such a major disappointment.

  I wait, I don’t know what for, until I hear the sound of the door opening behind me.

  “What are you doing, Ella May?” asks Jeff, surprised to see me out here, frozen stiff and numb.

  “Nothing.” I turn around as Jeff shrugs and goes back to the sofa to enjoy his game. I turn my eyes up and down the street again, but it is empty so I idly walk back indoors. I don’t know why, but I can still feel Jason’s eyes on me. I close the door loudly behind me, to let Jeff know that I’m safe and sound, back indoors.

  From the parlor, I hear the unmistakable jingle of the cable sport show.

  “Jeff?” I call out.

  He’s lounging on the sofa, his bare feet hanging from the armrest.

  “Ella May, honey, I’m here,” he shouts, his eyes never leaving the TV set. “There’s some meatloaf left if you want some. In the microwave,” he adds. The little that is left of his thinning hair is crushed down against a sweaty temple.

  “Not right now, thanks.” I lay on my usual smile so as not to arouse suspicion. The last thing I want to do right now is eat. He looks at me doubtfully, but when he sees me looking enthusiastically at the TV, his own eyes are drawn back to the game. Sports is not my thing, but feigning an interest is the easiest way to avoid any kind of conversation where my dad’s concerned.

  I kneel down next to the armrest by Jeff’s head.

  “Did you have fun at college?” he asks absent-mindedly, never tearing his eyes from the screen.

  “You bet!” I get more comfortable on the floor and lean my back against the sofa.

  “Well, I’m glad. ” He observes me warily. “What did you get up to this afternoon?”

  “I went to the library to go over my notes. I’m trying to catch up on what I missed when I was away.” I keep my eyes steadfastly fixed to the screen, but feel as if I am looking right through it.

  “Yeah, that’s what Ronald, Seth’s dad, told me last night,” he says, fiddling with a hair that is sprouting from his forehead, as if my reply is of no consequence. Or maybe not. I’m amazed. The interrogation should have ended with the start of the fourth quarter, but Jeff keeps examining my expression as the game moves into overtime.

  All of a sudden I am overcome by exhaustion. The other evening I meandered through the endless passageways of the university’s brick building, punctuated here and there with huge windows and the wooden doors of the spacious lecture halls.

  I was searching, searching. But there was nothing to perceive, nothing to find. Nothing but silence and a void. I felt lost and alone with nowhere to go.

  The situation has changed. I’m no longer in that empty, lonely building, lost at sea, but in an enormous chimney chute. In the glacial heart of the library. Besides panic, I feel uneasy at being so close to Donn, who is by my side. I gaze at him, every time my relentless search for Jason allows me to.

  I shift slightly at the foot of the sofa and try to shake off the dream. The TV set keeps spouting out childish male banter in the post-game commentary.

  I try to remove the dream from my memory, hoping to lock it in an impregnable fortress, far from my thoughts, far from Donn’s ability to read my mind.

  At the end of
the show, I get up and look at the pale, silvery light filtering through the window.

  “I have to get to work.”

  “See you then,” answers dad, never taking his eyes off the screen.

  I manage to get my act together enough to get out the house and into my car. It has stopped raining. I arrive at the bar and jump out the car before panic overcomes me at the risks that Jason and Donn are running, the memory of Debra’s aloofness, and the thought of the vampires in black cloaks of the Council. But by the time I reach Scott, perched on a stool at the bar, I’m hyperventilating. There is a static electricity in the air that makes my hair stand up.

  Tyler got there a few minutes before me, and he greets me with a huge smile. I grab my apron and give him a friendly nod. He’s always cheerful. That’s just the way he is. And he’s enthusiastic about seeing me. Always in high-spirits, the joy that surrounds him like an aura is contagious. It’s a natural and spontaneous quality, so it’s no surprise that I’m so pleased to see him.

  Work is heavy going. I just want to be with Jason. I take a deep breath, a shiver running all through my body. Everything seems to be rotating around me, but the point where I am is at a total standstill.

  I wipe down the counter twice and complete all my chores in the storeroom slowly as Scott watches a Patriots game. I try to keep myself as busy as possible until Scott says something about the time. I don’t reply. He stretches out and goes back into the short corridor that leads to the bar, turning off the light as he leaves. I reluctantly follow him.

  A short while later, the phone begins to ring. With a groan, Scott tries to push his weight off the stool. He runs to the phone behind the counter, his whole body wobbling.

  “Yeah,” he barks, scratching his temple.

  “Hey Ronald, it’s me, Scott.”

  “No, no problem if you call at this time,” he says reassuringly.

  “I know, I know,” he exclaims, exasperated. “Listen, I’ll tell Tyler to clear the drive. Right!” His tone of voice changes on the last word, far more attentive.

  “In the clearing?” He listens. “No, I don’t know what could be burning there.” Another pause. “Are you sure it’s in that part of the woods near the coast?”

  I strain my ears to hear. He seems worried, disoriented.

  “Ok, thanks,” he adds in a troubled tone, before hanging up.

  He runs out from behind the counter.

  “See you later, I’ve gotta go and check on something.”

  “Is something wrong?” I ask.

  “I gotta go!”

  “Where?”.

  “To the forest near my house. I just got a call from Ronald, he says that he can see flames in the clearing. I dunno what it could be…”

  “A fire?” I shrug my shoulders, but Tyler cuts in before Scott can reply.

  “It’s nothing,” he reassures me. “Just a big bonfire in the middle of the clearing.”

  “A bonfire?” asks Scott. sarcastically. “Oh really?”

  “Sure, but it’s pointless going down the woods now,” continues Tyler. “There’s a storm brewing, then the kids will go home or come down to the bar.”

  “I don’t care, I’ve gotta go make sure the flames don’t spread. I promised Ronald.” Scott slips on his jacket.

  “I’m surprised they managed to light a bonfire with this weather.”

  “They’re forest rangers, of course they’re gonna’ know how to light a fire, even when it’s raining.” Tyler stifles a laugh.

  “So just a useless act of bravado by the forest ranger kids, eh?” says Scott, shaking his head, amused.

  “No,” retorts Tyler, with an indecipherable grimace. I can tell he doesn’t want to reply. He averts his eyes and looks beyond Scott’s shoulders, out the window. Scott’s face has become somber again.

  “So why do something like that in the woods by Scott’s house?” I ask.

  “They’re celebrating the return,” explains Tyler, his voicing rising in irritation… or is it rage?

  “The return?” I ask, before Vuk’s words spring back into my mind.

  “They’re back,” he had said. Then I remember a mix of his and Donn’s words that followed.

  “He’s not alone. No. Today his backup came. He found out about the meeting and called the rest of the family. He must have heard about it at the party.” And Vuk had looked forlornly at Donn.

  A light bulb clicks on in my head. Perhaps this ‘he’ who was at the party and the backup that joined him are Tyler and the forest rangers to which Scott is referring.

  “Well, you see,” continues Scott, “Tyler and the guys had already been here a year before you moved. They came in from Jackson, Wyoming, to take part in an excursion in the New Hampshire mountains. Now that they’ve returned, as Tyler said, they’re celebrating being back.”

  “So they’re here as forest rangers?” I ask skeptically.

  “Yes, sure,” confirms Scott. “They’ve got a temporary contract as rangers in the Vermont forestland, a protection mission… to maintain stability. Tyler wanted to join them, but he agreed to help us out here at the bar. You know, he’s one of the best rangers at the Grand Teton National Park in Wyoming, which borders on Yellowstone. That’s why Scott calls them the forest rangers. They all live and work around that huge national park.”

  “That’s not the only reason Ronald called, is it?” Tyler asks.

  “That’s right,” answers Scott. “Tell Ferguson to move that damn Jeep from Ronald’s drive.”

  “I’ll get onto that right away,” says Tyler, as Scott hurries out the door, full of worry about the bonfire. He gives me a slight wave of his hand without even looking at me.

  “He’s really pissed,” I mutter.

  Tyler doesn’t reply, but he turns sharply to the window. Something must have caught his eye.

  He watches, his eyes bright, amused. He has that same look of concentration as a cat has when it’s following the path of a fly.

  I approach him, my curiosity aroused. I hear the engine of Scott’s Jeep rev up as he takes off.

  “Jeez, it’s raining again!” he exclaims, looking at me. He laughs when he sees me grimace at that word.

  “Uh, should I be seeing something?”

  “Well, maybe it’s too dark … for your eyes,” he comments, and gently pushes my head towards the lower part of the window so I can see better.

  “See now? Not that. Down here where there’s more light. ” “Yes.” I’m surprised as I notice the first minute drop of water running down the pane Tyler had been watching. I don’t know how he managed to hear its silent fall from inside the bar, what with the music and the TV set on.

  “Rain … again!” I sigh, observing the small droplets amass slowly, then run rivulets down the window. “So that’s the end of my dry night, my stability, and everything else.”

  “You don’t like rain, eh?” Tyler asks, his beautiful smile widening.

  I make the mistake of looking into his eyes, their golden glow confuses me, and I reply without thinking.

  “You can’t even begin to imagine how much… and I don’t like the clouds or the gray skies either.”

  Tyler laughs again. Maybe my awkward remarks seem cute to him, rather than pathetic.

  “Doesn’t it rain much in Italy?”

  “No, not much.”

  “Jeez, it must be like living in Nevada.”

  “Not exactly.”

  “I know you moved here four years ago, but you’re not very tan.”

  “It’s not very sunny here.”

  “So it must be tough for you, living in Medford.” It’s not a question, more a conclusion. I take a deep breath.

  “Not really, even if the weather’s not great.” He seems taken by my words, though I can’t really figure out why. He keeps searching my face, scrutinizing me.

  “Why did you move here from Italy?”

  “I wanted to live with my father.” My voice sounds melancholy, even to my own ears. “You kno
w, stay with him a bit,” I add. I don’t know why I’m telling him my personal stuff.

  “I guess I can understand that,” he says, his own voice revealing a hint of sadness.

  I look at him, surprised. I guess I can see that it was hard for him to move here to Medford as well, even if it’s only temporary. It feels weird for me right now to be so close––emotionally, more than physically, even if the sensations I feel are confusing––to another human being. It’s not easy for me to open up my inner feelings. At least not to another human.

  “What made you stay?” he insists, his eyes still burrowing into me, as if the boring story of my life was thrilling and of the utmost importance.

  “Why do you care?”

  “A normal question, I reckon,” he replies. “Maybe ‘cause we used to be close when we shared a tent and gas stoves in the open.”.

  Seeing his topaz eyes, it’s impossible not to remember exactly why I made the decision to stay.

  “For love,” I confess timidly, my face aglow. “That’s the only reason.”

  “And what is the name of this love?” he asks, smiling in embarrassment.

  I giggle, but I’m not really amused. I feel like I’m quaking imperceptibly. I can’t understand why he’s so interested. But I reply regardless

  “Jason Rees.”

  He glowers. I wonder why he’s staring at me like that.

  “But lately, you’ve been … unhappy. That’s doesn’t seem right to me,” he states. And despite everything I’ve said, that he must have heard or guessed from the party, he seems sincere.

  I shrug and glance up at him, shyly.

  “Yeah, Scott told me,” he admits, boldly. “And I’ll bet you suffered a lot more than you’re willing to admit, right?”

  I make a wry face. This doesn’t sound like a question either, more of a supposition.

  “I’m much better, thanks,” I whisper, brushing him off.

  Tyler keeps looking at me. His interest seems heartfelt. I avoid looking at him. I don’t want to fall into those topaz eyes. And he probably realizes that for me the subject is closed. I try not to think of that reception on Lake Michigan last October.