Summers' Deceit (Hunters Trilogy Book 1)

by Sara J. Bernhardt

  “A walk sounds nice,” I thought out loud, evaluating my mood. “What is my mood?” As usual, I couldn’t tell. Sometimes, I truly felt insane. I already knew I was weird and clumsy. I had accepted that, embraced it even, but I often wondered if I indulged in weird things for the reasons I did, that may have made it possible that my life was just one delusion after another. The tragedy, however, was that it wasn’t. I would never wake up to the sound of Danny’s voice. I would never again look into those blue eyes contrasted with the clarity of his fair skin. I would never be able to confess my fears to him or tell him my dreams. This was my life—real. It was no bad dream.

  I walked slowly through the woods near the house, not even checking to see if I was on the trail. I tried to think about nothing. Not that I had tried not to think about anything, but I had actually tried to think about nothing. But nothing was—well, something, and it proved more difficult than I thought.

  I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temples. Bad attempt, I thought. Okay, think about something—insignificant. For some reason, no matter what I thought about—a music video I had daydreamed through or a romance novel that almost held my interest—all of my thoughts came back to Aidan. How stupid—or insane was I? I turned my attention to a small rabbit that hopped in front of me and froze. I was caught off guard by the fact that I noticed his fur was the same color as Aidan’s perfect hair. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get him out of my head. I felt guilty. I felt bad for my sarcastic behavior when all he was doing was being nice. Or was he being nice? He was a guy, after all, and most guys aren’t nice to girls just to be nice but to get something in particular from them. Oddly enough, Aidan did seem different somehow.

  My chest continued to burn, and I thought the trees around me had begun to shake. It only took me a moment to realize that I was the one shaking, and the ground appeared to be moving from the heavy rain, attacking the wood and leaves at my feet. I wrapped my arms around my body and headed back the way I had come.

  I focused on the cold, not unhappy to feel miserable physically, because it kept my mind off Aidan and Danny. I realized I could never free my mind of Aidan until I apologized to him. Hopefully that wouldn’t open a door of welcome into the life of Jane. If it did, I would be forced to close it without causing my chest to burn with guilt.

  I continued walking aimlessly until I found a break in the trees and hurried to the house, trying to escape the cold. I secured myself in my bedroom and stripped off my soaking clothes and threw on a pair of gray sweat pants and a black tank. I focused myself on thinking about the rain—the woods, anything but Aidan.

  I put a CD into my stereo. Ethan had made me a mix of—something. Strange as it was, I never listened to music. It usually made me feel sad. Not that I don’t appreciate art; I have notebooks full of lyrics, and I can quote the poetry of music but could never get past the blaring guitar and pounding drums. I couldn’t listen to the CD, but I needed it to tune out so I could more easily think of nothing. The vivid dream of Danny had torn a hole in my stomach. Though I wanted to remember him, I didn’t want to remember him like that. I couldn’t think about Ethan either. I was obviously a terrible daughter, having not seen Ethan in three years and avoiding conversation and concealing myself in my room. I needed to make an effort to let my father know at least a little bit about who I was. It wasn’t easy though. He was too pushy with the questions.

  It was the last day of summer break, and the stress was building up again. I ate breakfast in silence, and Ethan read the paper, occasionally glancing up at me. I avoided eye contact. It was uncomfortable to look at him; it was like he was trying to read my mind.

  “How’s Becky?” he asked. Taking a sip of his coffee, he looked up at me. “I noticed you two went out yesterday.”

  “She’s fine,” I answered soberly.

  “Well…did you have fun?”

  “Sure.”

  “Uh huh. You have school today?”

  “Dad…it’s Sunday.”

  “Right,” he answered. “When you’re like me and don’t get days off, you forget.”

  I nodded, trying to smile. He dropped it there, perhaps realizing I was hopeless.

  Again I escaped to the bookstore. I sat in silence with a cup of coffee. The hole in my stomach was healing as the dream was fading. When I got home, I devoted some time tackling the mess of packed boxes, still not completely moved in. I gathered my schoolbooks and a clean pair of clothes for the next day. Back home, I didn’t mind school—but here, I couldn’t go unnoticed. I felt like a virtual stranger in a small town.

  I slept well that night—no nightmares. I got up slowly. Ethan must have already left for work. I crammed my long limbs into the tiny shower. I didn’t worry with my hair. I threw it up in a ponytail and dressed myself in a simple pair of blue jeans and a T-shirt. I grabbed my school bag and left the house. I ended up early, so I sat in the car, reading until people started flooding the campus. I tried to hide myself in the sea of students, but it still seemed like people were staring. I wished I could have turned invisible or blended in with the walls. I rushed to my first class with my head down. When I opened the classroom door, I felt my breath explode.

  “Thank God!” I mumbled and took the seat next to Becky.

  “Oh, hey,” she said with the biggest smile on her face. “I was hoping we’d end up with at least one class together.”

  I smiled. “I was terrified we wouldn’t.” Considering the fact that math wasn’t exactly my strongest subject, I could probably use some help.

  The day dragged. Every class seemed like a whole day. I knew I couldn’t go unnoticed; people stared at me like I was an alien. They asked me my name or tried to start conversations, but I avoided it as best I could. It was finally lunch, and I dreaded it. Luckily, Becky found me and kept me company. Of course, she insisted as always that she take a thousand unnecessary pictures of me. I tried to hide my face.

  “Oh, come on.” She laughed cheerful as ever. “You look adorable.”

  “Hey,” I heard.

  I turned to see Aidan.

  “Oh, hi,” Becky answered.

  He was talking to her?

  He glared at me but wouldn’t keep eye contact. He didn’t sit with us but chose a table by himself.

  “You know, for somebody who tries so hard to talk to me, he certainly likes to be by himself.”

  “What?”

  I cocked my head toward Aidan.

  “Oh.” She chuckled. “Why don’t you just go talk to him?”

  I didn’t even answer.

  “He’s new here too,” she continued.

  I noticed he wasn’t looking in my direction, so I took a minute to stare at his perfect face. I had honestly never seen anyone so beautiful. His hair hung messily in his face in an intentional kind of disorder. His face was flawless and pale, which contrasted wonderfully with the piercing green of his eyes. He looked up, and I immediately broke my gaze.

  I looked at Becky. She was staring at me, making the blood rush to my cheeks. Her smile told me that she didn’t know what to say and I was meant to read her mind.

  “What?” I whispered.

  She shook her head. “What did you do? He’s glaring at you.”

  “Still?”

  “Yes.”

  I knew it was probably the worst time for me to look in his direction, but it was like my eyes weren’t attached to the rest of me. I looked over, and sure enough, he was staring at me—glowering. He didn’t stop with the death stare, so I looked away.

  I was relieved when I finally got to my last class, realizing that the first dreadful day was almost over. I had walked slowly, so I rushed to the nearest seat I could get to before the bell rang. I cringed and gritted my teeth when I saw Aidan sitting right beside me. That burning guilt started eating away at me, and that mental wound in my stomach began to throb. I decided I should at least try to make conversation and move into an apology.

  “Hey.”

  He stared at me.
“Oh, you’re talking to me now?”

  “Well—”

  “Don’t bother.”

  He sat there silently. Sometimes he would clinch his hands into fists or pass me a glare. I was only trying to apologize, but I guess I had asked for it, and he was leaving me alone, which is what I had wanted in the first place. The rest of class, he just sat there, completely ignoring me. I glanced at the clock and realized I had to say something before class ended.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure if he heard me, but he turned to stare at me.

  “Yeah,” he answered, sarcastically, “I’m sure you care so much more than you did a couple days ago.”

  “Really, Aidan—”

  The bell rang, and he bolted out the door before I could say another word. Oh well. I did apologize at least. My heart was pounding; it irritated me to realize he made me so nervous. He was so cold, but I can’t say I didn’t deserve it.

  The next day was the same. Aidan seemed distant and angry. It made me uneasy. He didn’t have that curious innocence in his face. His eyebrows were pulled together, forcing wrinkles in his ivory skin that seemed permanent. I just kept my eyes on my paper. Sometimes I could feel him staring at me, and my ears would burn, and my heart would race. He made me feel so self-conscious.

  I saw Becky talking to him in the parking lot after class, and as soon as he saw me, he left.

  “What was that about?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing really,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “He just came to talk to me.”

  “I see,” I answered dryly.

  “He likes you.”

  I laughed loudly once. “Yeah, right.”

  “Really,” she answered. “I explained to him that you wanted to apologize. I let him know that you really are sorry.”

  “Great, Becky.” The tremor in my voice ruined the intended sarcasm.

  Becky talking to him might have done something because the next day in history, he was completely calm again.

  “Hi,” he said cheerfully, passing me a glimpse of his beautiful smile.

  “Hi,” I choked out.

  “I didn’t realize you knew Becky for so long,” he started politely. “She mentioned you were summer pals since the first grade.”

  I nodded. He was making conversation and was perfectly polite. Maybe I had only imagined his harshness the day before. Maybe I was insane.

  “Well…she’s nice.”

  “She is.”

  Sounded like he liked Becky more than he liked me.

  I didn’t make much of an effort to continue conversations with him over the next few days, which shouldn’t have surprised him, but as the days passed, he seemed as if he had actually taken offense. I would often catch him looking at me with a miffed expression on his face. I tried to ignore. When he talked to me, I responded. What more did he expect?

  Chapter Four

  I was lying in bed, letting my mind wander. I sank into my memories of home and began missing my mother like crazy. I did promise I’d call, didn’t I? It took a bit of courage to pick up the phone. I was terrified that I would start to cry and miss her so much I’d come running home. I sighed and dialed the number.

  “Hello?”

  “Mom?”

  “Oh, Jane!” I instantly heard the smile in her voice. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  I smiled. “Well, I miss you, and things here are a bit different than what I’m used to, but Becky is making it easier to adjust.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I miss you so much. How’s the school?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Meet any nice boys?”

  Oh God. The question I was dreading. “No,” I fibbed.

  “Are people nice?”

  “Most of them,” I answered. “I haven’t had any problems.” That was the truth, wasn’t it?

  “Of course you haven’t had any problems. You’re nice and beautiful, Jane.”

  Sometimes, I felt like my mom didn’t know me at all, but either way, she made me feel better.

  “Um…yeah, I guess. How have you been?”

  “Lonely.” She chuckled. “It isn’t the same here without you.”

  “Well…maybe Becky and I can take a road trip to come visit you over winter break. I should come home for Christmas anyway, and it isn’t like Becky’s mom would notice.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “I’ll celebrate with Dad early. That way, he doesn’t feel too left out. He’ll be partying with all his work buddies anyway.”

  My mom laughed. I loved to hear her laugh. “Sounds great. I have some things around the house to take care of, so I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “Sure. I’ll call you later.”

  She never said bye, which was a relief in some way. Saying goodbye always made things feel so…final.

  I found the next day that going for a walk sounded like a good idea, anything to clear my mind. It was surprisingly relaxing. I almost felt asleep as I wandered aimlessly into the trees—again ignoring the trail. I was hardly even aware that it had started raining. I pulled the hood of my raincoat up and decided to turn back. I noticed that the trees in every direction looked exactly the same. I sighed. This would be interesting.

  I looked behind me and noticed the rain had turned the dirt to mud, washing away any footprints I may have possibly left. I walked like I had last time, looking for that same kind of break in the trees. I moved quickly, searching for a way out. Chances were I was getting myself more lost than I was already. It was starting to get dark, which made me nervous, but I stayed calm, looking for the trail.

  The rain hadn’t stopped, and I was unusually frightened. I had never been afraid of the dark, but as I walked, I could swear I felt eyes on my back. My mother always teased me about my “active imagination,” so I concentrated on that, telling myself that I was alone. I ignored the rustling sounds behind me, but they persisted, becoming louder as they approached. I halted and listened, but the noises stopped. All I heard was the rain hitting the leaves and rocks at my feet.

  I picked up my pace, feeling a nagging tug at my senses. I was definitely being followed. My breathing grew heavy, and panic crept into my chest. The rustling sound in the trees came again. I broke into a terrified sprint, only trying to avoid running into the trees as I scraped my ankles on rocks and branches.

  Something caught my foot, and I fell forward, crying out in pain as I felt the muscles in my ankle tearing loose. The shards of pain overwhelmed me for a moment, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I heard that same rhythmical resonance and squeezed my eyes shut. I could feel that the owner of the sound that was following me was right in front of me.

  “Jane?”

  My eyes darted open to meet a white face and eyes that almost appeared to be glowing. I was mute for a moment, paralyzed, but I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

  “Aidan?” But my voice caught in my throat, and rather than sounding baffled, it came out pleadingly.

  “What are you doing in the woods?” he asked.

  “What are you doing in the woods?”

  “Oh my God, Jane!” he whispered, kneeling down and looking at my ankle.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I’ll carry you.”

  “Ha!” I burst out. “You most certainly will not. I can walk.”

  “Jane, your ankle is broken. You can’t walk.”

  “Watch me!” I scowled at him and stood up. The pain shot up through my leg, causing my stomach to turn with nausea. I tried to pretend I didn’t feel it, but it was causing my breathing to quicken, and the look of agony on my face was impossible to hide.

  “Yeah.” Aidan laughed. “Now don’t complain.” He sighed and lifted me into his arms.

  I gasped. “Put me down!”

  “Don’t be a baby,” he snapped back.

  I growled in my chest. “Put…me…down!” I screamed, but to be honest, I coul
dn’t mean it. He was strong, and his skin felt comfortably warm and soft, and as strange as it seemed—I almost wanted to be closer. It made me angry that I fell weak to his beauty that way. I was so lost in my thoughts and confusion that I didn’t even realize I was already home. He set me softly on the porch. I tried to glare at him, but he was smiling, and I felt like I had the air stolen from my lungs.

  Ethan opened the door. “OH! Jane, where have you been?”

  “I just went for a walk in the woods,” I said, turning to look at him. “I think I broke my ankle.”

  “All right,” he replied. “I’ll be right back.” My father disappeared inside the house.

  I looked over at Aidan, but he was already gone. I shook my head and pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to make my vision stop spinning. I saw him emerging from the shadows.

  “You don’t have to hide,” I told him.

  He smiled.

  “Um...thanks,” I said, trying to return the smile.

  Aidan quickly disappeared into the shadows again.

  Ethan came back outside with a splint and a wrap. I could see by the light of the porch that my ankle had already begun to swell and turn colors.

  “I don’t think it’s broken,” Ethan said, “but you sprained it something terrible.”

  I winced as he wrapped the splint tightly and helped me wobble inside. That’s what you get for having a doctor for a father. Everything needs special treatment.

  I looked behind my shoulder to see if I could catch one more glance at Aidan, but there was nothing. He was so weird and passive and quiet—unnatural considering the way he had acted in the bookstore.

  That night, I didn’t sleep well. As soon as my ankle stopped hurting, Aidan crowded my mind. That guy who had never been much more than a minor annoyance had carried me home. What was he doing in the woods? And how did he know where I lived? Maybe I was being paranoid. After all, I was in the woods as well, and this town isn’t that big. I’m sure everybody knew everybody; there aren’t many secrets in North Bend.

  That’s the way it works. You can’t help getting close to the people you wish to keep as far away as possible.