by K. G. Reuss
“Why?” Brax’s smooth voice cut into my thoughts. The way he looked at me left me breathless. “Afraid the Devil might get you? I thought you might be turning over a new leaf and not caring too much.”
I rolled my eyes at him. Of course, he’d use my words against me. I was surprised when he took my hand and gave me a small tug. I stumbled forward into him. He leaned down and spoke softly into my ear, sending a wave of goosebumps through me.
“Come on, Mags. Live a little.” His hand rested on my waist. “Come. Come not care with me.”
God, I wanted to. I quivered against him, wanting to do anything he asked me to. He grasped my hand again and gave me another tiny tug, a smile on his lips. I followed him. And little did I know at the time, it would change everything.
Chapter 21
I couldn’t breathe. I knew playing with that board had been a bad idea. I’d gone against my better judgement and done it anyway, letting Brax be my voice of reason. After the drama from the board, I got up and left the room, feeling uneasy. I needed some air, so I went out to the patio and breathed in deeply over and over, hoping to calm myself. I looked up to the sky. The stars sparkled like diamonds. A sudden surge of sadness overwhelmed me. I missed my dad. All the awful memories of my life with Alan flooded me.
“Where are you?” I whispered to the sky, feeling like it was the best direction to look to ask for him. I shook the silly idea off as I leaned against the railing. I was a wreck. A drunk wreck. Every single thought I had in my head was negative—my real dad, Alan, Lance and Heidi, the Ouija board…
“Are you OK?” Brax’s voice cut softly through my sad thoughts.
“No,” I answered in a whisper, looking back up to the sky. He moved to stand beside me. We stood in silence for a few moments.
“Brax?” I finally broke the quiet.
“Yeah?”
“Do you… do you know what that thing was talking about in there?”
“No,” he replied all too quickly. Something about the way he said the word made me not believe him entirely.
“Do you believe what it said?” I pressed.
“Do you?”
“Yes,” I answered, closing my eyes for a moment. I wasn’t sure why I believed it. I just did. Something inside me told me to. It also told me to be careful.
“Something… something isn’t right.” I bit my bottom lip, feeling my words down to my very center.
“What do you mean?” He slid closer to me.
“Have you ever felt like you were meant for… more? That despite all the terrible things going on in your life, you know that if you just keep hanging on, something good, maybe even something great, will come from it?” I looked at him, praying he’d give me an answer to the strange feelings I’d started having since he’d entered my life.
“I think…” he started, gazing back at me, “you are meant for more. So much more. And it’ll come for you someday. Perhaps, it’s here now.”
“Is it you?” I asked without thinking. I didn’t regret it though. My dad used to tell me that everything happened for a reason. Brax was there for a reason. I knew he was. I was drawn to him like a moth to flame. We’d probably both end up burned in the long run.
“Me?” He laughed. “Why would you think it’s me?”
“You need me,” I continued softly, just blurting out the things I was feeling. “I don’t know how I know that, but I do. It’s almost like I’m your other half.” I smiled at the thought. “I’m sorry, Brax. I think I drank too much tonight. I guess I’m one of those people who get all philosophical and start talking crazy.”
“No,” Brax replied, his voice low. “What if what you say is right? What if I do need you? What are you prepared to do about it?”
“I’d save you,” I answered without a second thought. And I knew I would. This man meant something to me.
“How can you save someone who’s lost?” he asked sadly. He reached forward and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.
“You aren’t lost.” I smiled at him. I knew lost. He wasn’t lost. Not completely. “Just because storm clouds blot out the sun doesn’t mean the light from it, that the sun itself, doesn’t still exist. It simply means that darkness has won a round, not the entire fight. The sun always comes out to shine. You just need a little shelter in the storm. Have faith. Let the sunlight in.”
“Are you my shelter?” he asked, so close to me that I could feel his breath on my face. Without thinking about it, I reached out and ran my fingers across the rough stubble of his cheek then trailed them over his soft, plump lips, outlining the edge with my fingers. There was a warmth, like electricity, that rocketed through my body as I touched him. He closed his eyes as I continued to explore his face. The energy should’ve frightened me, but I wanted it. I wanted it all, whatever came with it.
His hand came out, and he gripped mine tightly. I could feel his sadness and agony roll through him. My heart yearned to take it all away. And I would. No matter what, I would. Someday. Somehow.
Chapter 22
“Maggie,” Lance called out. I dropped my hand from Brax’s face. My chest ached with the loss of contact. It felt like I was leaving a piece of my heart behind. I’d forgotten he was still holding my other hand. Lance’s eyes shot down to it quickly, a look of displeasure crowding his handsome features.
“Hey.” I pulled away from Brax and went to Lance feeling guilty.
“Come on, sweetheart. It’s late,” he murmured, opening his arms for me. I fell into them wordlessly and looked back to Brax. My heart broke. He looked devastated. I wanted to rush back to him, but I knew it wasn’t right. I’d been upset only hours before for the way Lance behaved with Heidi, and now I was doing it. I was just as guilty as Lance was. And I didn’t want to hurt him.
I let him steer me out to his car. He didn’t say anything as he helped me inside. We were nearly to my house before he spoke.
“Do you like him?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
“Yes,” I admitted softly. “He’s not a bad person. He needs help—”
He whipped the car off to the side of the road and got out. I watched as he paced with his hands in his hair. He kicked at a rock angrily before he climbed back into the car. I didn’t say a word as we sat there, the engine purring in the dead of night.
“He loves you,” Lance finally spoke. I didn’t say anything, too stunned by his words. There was no way he loved me. We felt something for one another, like friends. But love? He couldn’t.
“He does.” Lance looked over at me. “I saw it tonight when you chose me over him.”
“But I chose you,” I said, staring back at him.
“For how long?” he murmured. “How long will I have you, Maggie?”
“Until you let go,” I replied, my voice low.
“And if I never do?”
“Then… I’ll always be yours.” I gave him a sad smile.
“Do you swear it? That no matter what happens, you’ll still be mine? I’ll still be able to save you?”
“I swear it, Lance.” I leaned into him, our eyes locked on one another. His words were eerily familiar to me, perhaps mirroring the turmoil I felt inside. Something dark was coming. I knew it in my heart.
“Never forget that,” he murmured. “Promise me, you’ll never forget.”
“I promise.” I squeezed his hand, praying that whatever happened to me or us, that I’d never forget him. “And if I do, just have Prince Charming kiss me and wake me from my nightmare.”
“Like Sleeping Beauty,” he chuckled softly. Sadly.
“Only worse.” I swallowed thickly, sending one more silent prayer to Heaven. Something told me I’d be needing all the prayers I could get.
Lance’s forehead rested against mine, his hand on my side. We sat like that in the dark for a long time, the warmth from his skin on me. Even though I was with someone I cared for deeply, the turmoil thrashed inside of me. I knew that if I didn’t fight it, things in my life would go from bad
to worse.
Something about Lance’s words left me feeling scared. I was suddenly realizing that there was something bigger happening around us. To us. And we may not be in control much longer.
Chapter 23
“Stay with me,” I whispered as Lance pulled up to the curb outside my house.
“I’ll come back.”
I nodded. “Hurry?”
“You won’t even know I’m gone,” he answered, giving my hand a squeeze. Breathing in, I stepped out of the car and went inside my darkened house. One glance around the foyer told me Alan wasn’t home. His briefcase was always by the door when he was. In its place was my mom’s umbrella.
Thank God for small miracles.
I made my way upstairs, put on my pajamas, and waited for Lance. He was moving his car down the street like always, just in case. A soft tapping on my bedroom window meant that he’d shimmied up my mother’s trellis and was waiting for me to let him in.
“I missed you,” he breathed out, sweeping me up into his arms when he got into the room. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, grateful to have him.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” I whispered. “I drank too much and said some things—”
“Shh, sweetheart,” Lance soothed, bringing me to my bed. He kicked his shoes off and sat beside me. “It’s OK. It’s my fault. I got playing beer pong and blanked out. It’s me who should be apologizing. Especially after what I did.”
“This is stupid,” I answered, resting my head on his shoulder. “Let’s just forget about it, OK?”
“OK,” he replied. “Are you tired?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, rubbing my eyes. “I had all that alcohol. My head just feels fuzzy. And then that stuff with the Ouija board happened—”
“I know,” Lance said tightly. “Why were you playing with it, Maggie? That’s so unlike you. You do realize what those things are capable of, right?”
“I just wanted to let go for a minute,” I whispered thickly. “Sometimes I hate being me. I thought if I just went down and tried to be normal, I’d finally feel normal. I wish I wouldn’t have. It-it scared me.”
“You’re your normal, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hazel eyes sweeping over my face. “Be your version of normal. No one else’s version matters. Got it?”
“Got it,” I answered back, giving him an unstable smile. My version, at least the one I wanted, was a fairytale. And fairytales weren’t real. I learned that a long time ago when my dad left, and Alan came into my life.
Lance was quiet for a moment before finally speaking, “That board scares me too.”
“Really?” I moved aside and looked at him, my brows crinkled. “Why?”
“They can be tools of darkness,” he answered, swallowing hard and looking away from me. “Was it Shepherd? Did he make you go?”
“What?” I frowned. “No. He asked me to. But he never forced me to.”
Lance gave me a hard look, his jaw tense. “Maggie, you need to be careful. I keep telling you that he’s not a good guy. He’s a monster.”
“You keep saying that, but I just don’t see it—”
“That’s because he has you blinded!” Lance raised his voice passionately. “And you even said you like the guy. You don’t. I know it’s his pull over you. I won’t let him take you from me. I won’t, Maggie! You have no idea the things I’m willing to do to stop you from getting hurt—”
I hated seeing him so distraught. He needed to understand that I was with him. That this thing with Brax was nothing, but in my head. How could I prove to him that I’d chosen him? Jess and Chelsea’s words echoed in my mind. Gathering my courage, I got to my feet and stood in front of him. He stared up at me, his dark brows crinkled.
“Maggie?” his eyes shifted, drinking me in, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. I didn’t reply. Pushing his hands out of his lap, I straddled his legs.
“What are you doing, beautiful?” Lance murmured, licking his lips. Still wordless, my body trembling with nervousness, I kissed his cheek. Then his jaw. I let my lips skim a soft line down his neck. He let out a soft sigh, his hands gripping my waist tight before tugging me down onto the bed. He had me flipped onto my back in seconds, his body leveled over mine and his fingers in my hair. His hot lips peppered blossoms of kisses down my body in much the same manner as I’d done to him.
I squeezed my eyes closed, my heart hammering painfully—fearfully—in my chest. My fingers fisted my blankets, twisting them tightly beneath my hold. My breathing stuttered, my body shook, and a tiny whimper of fear escaped my lips.
He’s not Alan! NOT ALAN! He cares for you. You’ll make him happy. Just breathe, Maggie. Just breathe! You can do this! You have to try!
I felt the absence of Lance’s lips on my skin. I dared to peek up at him through my lashes and saw him frowning down at me.
“What?” I breathed out, my voice tiny and trembling, worried I’d done something wrong. Of course, I had! I’d had a minor panic attack!
“I-I can’t,” he whispered, gazing at me. “This isn’t real.”
“What?” I repeated, swallowing hard.
“You. Me. This. It’s not right.” He shifted off me and lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling. “You’re afraid. And the last thing I want to do is make you afraid, Maggie. You aren’t ready for more.”
“I’m so sorry, Lance,” I whispered through the dimly lit bedroom.
“God no, Maggie.” Lance rolled over and looked at me. “Don’t be sorry. You’re perfect. It’s just… I know that you don’t want this. At least not like this. And I know I sure as hell don’t. When it happens, if it happens, I want it to be special. OK? I want you to want it because you feel it inside, not because you think you have to.”
“OK.” I bit my bottom lip and sat up, feeling like I’d let him down. Heaven, I’d let myself down.
“Hey, don’t be upset. I’m just trying to protect you. We both know you’re not ready, beautiful. Right?” He sat up beside me and tilted my chin to look at him.
“Right,” I answered, my throat tight. “The truth is, I-I don’t know that I’ll ever be. I-I’m broken—”
“Come here,” he murmured, tugging me back flat onto the bed. I clung to his shirt, weeping softly. He ran his fingers through my hair. “Shh, sweetheart. I’m here. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He pressed a tender kiss to the top of my head. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”
“Don’t leave me. Stay with me. I need you,” I whimpered, letting him hold me. “Please.”
“I’ll never be far, Maggie. Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll be here.”
Believing him, I closed my eyes, the turmoil rolling deep within me. He was here. Lance was always there for me. And he wasn’t going to leave. I believed that. I had to. The alternate possibilities were enough to stop my heart.
The air shifted in my room. My eyelids fluttered as I came to. I was still in Lance’s arms. He was sleeping soundly, his lips slightly parted. Someone had been in my room. My bedroom window was open, and the white curtain rustled gently in the night breeze. I distinctly remembered Lance closing it.
But there was no one there now, even though every fiber within me told me we hadn’t been alone. I moved my hand to the small black object on my sheets. I picked it up and stared at it, confused. A shiny, beautiful, black feather. I wasn’t sure how it had gotten there, but something told me it was more important than I realized. I held it tightly in my hand as I glanced around a final time before snuggling closer to Lance. His arms tightened around me instinctively, and I closed my eyes once more, letting sleep take over.
Chapter 24
My weekend was littered with troubled thoughts. I couldn’t get Brax out of my head. I wanted to see him smile. I wanted him to greet me with arms wide open. But I was with Lance. And that wasn’t bad. I felt deeply for him. Maybe even more than that. It was a conflicting emotion. He’d been so kind over the whole Brax situation. But I’d been honest when I said I’d chosen him. Lance. I meant
it.
While I liked to entertain the thought of Brax, the reality of it actually happening terrified me. After my night of trying for more with Lance, I knew there was no way I could even spectate in the league Brax was in when it came to that stuff. I wasn’t so sure a girl like me could make someone like Brax happy anyway. Resolved, I decided that I could be his friend. A friend that could look out for him. Make him laugh and smile. Help him when he had girl troubles. Maybe. We could catch a movie every now and then. As friends. And that was better than nothing.
The black feather I’d found was now tucked inside my Bible in my drawer. It made me smile when I glimpsed it during church. I’d gone wanting to clear my mind. Alan and my mother played nice. We all smiled and played the part of the perfect, wholesome family.
The weather was changing. It would be cool outside soon. I thought about it as we drove back to our house after the service ended. It beat listening to my mom and Alan argue about whether they were going to stop by the liquor store on the way home. There were people out there in need of hats and gloves. I decided I wanted to get the church women together to crochet items for the less fortunate. Maybe I could convince Brax to help out. He could probably use some good deeds in his life since he’d nearly choked when I mentioned church to him. Maybe his troubled soul would find some peace. God knew it was really the only place I could find it. Keeping my faith was what got me through the long nights of Alan’s abuse.
“Hey,” I greeted Brax at his locker on Monday morning. I’d given myself a pep talk, convincing myself that he’d want to help. There was no way anyone could turn down the chance to help someone else out. He slowed as he approached me, his face falling. I shifted uncomfortably. I hadn’t expected that reaction at him seeing me. With a deep breath, I plastered my smile in place, not wanting to let on that I knew he was unhappy at my presence.
