Reborn

by Jennifer Rush

  A tall, blond girl came up and stood in front of me. At first, she chatted with Chloe and Elizabeth, but then she turned to me.

  “Hi,” she said, leaning toward me, affording me a clear view down her low-cut shirt. Not that I was looking. “I’m Heather.”

  “Hi.”

  “Where has Elizabeth been hiding you?”

  “I haven’t been hiding him,” Elizabeth argued, but Heather ignored her.

  Over the course of the next hour, all the girls in the group wandered away from the guys and gathered around me.

  I caught sight of Evan seething across the clearing. It was a wonder his head didn’t catch fire.

  “So, like, where do you live?” a girl in a short skirt asked. I couldn’t remember her name.

  “Michigan,” I answered. I thought about lying, but where I lived didn’t matter. Especially not to these people.

  “That’s cool,” Heather said. “Like, literally.” She’d managed to squeeze her way in on the other side of me, on the log. She was sitting so close to me now that our legs were pressed together.

  “Do you go to school there?” another girl asked.

  “No. I’m taking a year off.” If only school was the least of my worries. ’Course, even without the Branch, I still wouldn’t go to school. From what I could remember, before the Branch, I’d dropped out when I was sixteen. I’d never had a plan beyond getting drunk for the day. Just like dear old dad.

  “Do you have any brothers?” Chloe asked.

  It was the first question she’d asked me since I’d become the focus of the girls’ attention. It put me on guard for some reason. Like she was trying to rattle me, even though the question was innocent enough.

  Sam had taught me a long time ago that if I was going to lie, to lie as close to the truth as I could. In my life before the Branch, I’d been an only child, but that life didn’t count as far as I was concerned. Sam, Cas, and Anna were as close to family as I was ever going to get. “Two brothers and a sister,” I answered.

  A redhead took a sip of her drink and asked, “How old are your brothers?”

  “One older, one younger.”

  “Ohhh,” Chloe said, and flashed a smile that was all teeth. “Are they coming here? New meat gets snatched up quickly in Trademarr.”

  “No.”

  The group murmured their disappointment.

  Chloe got up and went over to the boys. I got the sense they were bullshitting about me.

  “Will you walk with me?” Heather asked, threading her fingers through mine. “There’s a really cool cliff just over there.” She pointed over her shoulder. “I could show you.”

  I turned to Elizabeth, but she was already pushing me away. “Go ahead. If you want. The view up there is great.”

  “Come on.” Heather tugged on my arm.

  I wasn’t sure if “cliff” was code for “stick your tongue down my throat,” but either way, it didn’t matter. I did want to be alone with Heather, if only to get out some of this pent-up tension. Being so close to Elizabeth set me on edge and made me think things about her that I didn’t want to think.

  “Are you sure?” I asked Elizabeth. “I came here with you.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “It’s all right. Really. I need to refill my drink anyway. Go.”

  “Come on,” Heather said again. I got to my feet as Elizabeth turned away and Evan grinned at her.

  Suddenly, I didn’t want to leave.

  Heather led me to a path in the woods that ran close to the lakeshore. We followed it through some dense pine, then right along the shore, then back through the woods again, where maple and oak trees lined the path.

  Heather stopped at the top of a hill and pulled me beneath the overhanging branches of a maple tree. She grinned and pressed her back against the tree’s trunk, her hand still intertwined with mine.

  “What about the cliff?” I asked in a voice that said I didn’t really care about the cliff.

  “Do you really want to see it? Because it’s not as great as I made it sound.”

  I got in close to her. “I’ve seen a lot of cliffs. Missing one won’t hurt, I suppose.”

  She giggled and wrapped her arms around my waist. Good thing I’d left the gun in the truck. “So are you and Elizabeth, like, together?”

  “No. She’s just a friend.”

  “Good.” She went up on the tips of her toes and brought her lips to mine. All the shit filling my head disappeared. Her mouth tasted like beer, and she smelled like fruit.

  I slipped my hand beneath her shirt, and she practically purred, arching her back. I lowered my other hand to her ass, pulling her closer.

  “God, you’re so hot,” she whispered against my lips.

  I responded with a laugh and kissed her again. A fire built in my gut and raced lower, between my legs.

  “When I first saw you with Elizabeth, I was, like, ‘What a waste of such a fine ass.’”

  I pulled away. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s, like, crazy. You know?” She kissed me again, then let her lips trail along my jaw. I barely noticed. The fire had all but burned out.

  “You have no idea what Elizabeth went through,” I said.

  Heather drew back but kept her hands on me, running them up and down my sides. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Anyway, let’s not talk about Elizabeth.” She leaned in again, pushing her chest into me. “In fact, let’s not talk at all.”

  I stepped away and turned toward the bonfire and the clearing.

  “Hey! Where are you going?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Nick!”

  She trailed me all the way back to the clearing, cursing at me as she did. When we hit the group again, she was downright pissed, and she stomped away.

  Evan frowned. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” Heather said. “Except that guy is a jerk.”

  Elizabeth came over to me. “Everything okay?”

  “She was…” I trailed off and ran my hand through my hair. I didn’t know how to talk my way out of this one. I couldn’t stand the thought of embarrassing Elizabeth here, in front of her friends, so I decided staying silent was better than explaining.

  Except Evan wouldn’t let it go.

  His fingers dug into the sides of his plastic cup, denting it as he came over.

  I had at least five inches on him. And easily thirty pounds. Not to mention everything else I had that he didn’t.

  “What did you do to Heather?” His breath smelled like beer, vodka, and rum. Booze gave you bravado, but it wouldn’t give you shit in a fight.

  “I didn’t do anything to Heather.” I eyed her across the bonfire, the flames distorting the anger on her face, and now the color of her shame.

  She knew damn well what had happened, but she wasn’t going to spill. And neither was I.

  “You know,” Evan started, “from the moment I met you, I knew you were trouble. Lissy would be better off without you. Before you take her down with you.”

  I turned back to him. “You don’t know shit about Elizabeth.”

  “And you do?”

  I glanced at her. I didn’t know everything. I didn’t know what kind of person she was before the Branch showed up. I didn’t know what they’d done to her, but I did know her better than Evan did. Or at least I understood what it was like to be at the hands of someone who did terrible things to you.

  All of these people here, they had no fucking idea.

  “I think it’s time for me to go,” I said to Elizabeth. “Do you want a ride back into town?”

  I couldn’t let this escalate into a fight. I wasn’t sure if I could hold back enough not to murder Evan with my bare hands.

  Elizabeth stood up. Chloe stood next to her and took her hand.

  “Elizabeth?” I tried again. I wanted her to come with me. I didn’t want to storm out of here and leave her with Evan. Who knew what kind of shit he’d put in her head once I was gone.

  “She d
oesn’t want to come with you,” Evan said, and pushed me.

  The push sent me two paces back, and in that time my body shifted into fighter mode, narrowing the world around me until it was just me and Evan in that clearing.

  The air crackled.

  I could hear the beating of my heart in my head and the pounding of it in my chest.

  I could smell the burning of the wood in the fire pit, and the dirt beneath my feet.

  But everyone else… everyone else disappeared.

  My shoulders leveled out. The muscles in my forearms tightened and bunched as my hands pulled into fists.

  My fingers itched for a gun and again I was glad I’d left it in the truck. Otherwise it’d already be in my hand.

  Evan bit his bottom lip—an obvious tell. His right shoulder rose up, the fabric of his shirt rustled as he moved, and I saw the punch coming days before it did.

  I ducked. Evan swung again. Another dodge. Another.

  Evan rocked back, practically spitting with frustration after a fourth swing and miss.

  “What’s the matter, Evan?” I taunted. “I’m not even moving.”

  He lunged at me. I stepped aside, and he went down in the dirt on all fours. I kicked him in the stomach. He spun over from the blow, landing on his side.

  One of his friends came at me with a broken branch. He swung at me, and I caught it, bent it down, and smashed it in half with a boot. I took my half and whacked him in the knee, just enough to leave a bruise and send him flat on his ass.

  Another friend jumped on my back and tried winding me up in a choke hold. I grabbed his wrist and bent forward, flipping him over me. He landed on the ground.

  A shorter guy whipped the bottle of rum at me, and I ducked two seconds before it made contact. The bottle hit a low-hanging tree branch and shattered into a million pieces. The girls screamed as the shards blew back their way.

  Evan was up again, charging at me with fists cocked. I caught the punch in my left hand and grabbed him around the throat with my right. I whirled him around, slamming him into a tree.

  A puff of air burst out of him, and he gasped. I tightened my hold, felt the frantic beating of his heart beneath my fingers.

  “Give in,” I said, my teeth grinding out the words. I could fight him all day long, but the longer I fought, the less control I had.

  Evan growled, “You’re an asshole.” I squeezed tighter.

  He made a sloppy choked sound. “Fine,” he croaked. “Now let me go.”

  When I released him, he collapsed against the tree, sucking up air.

  I turned to Elizabeth. She was surrounded by girls who were panicked and pale and shoving napkins at her face.

  That’s when I saw it, the blood, trickling down the bridge of her nose.

  “She was hit with a piece of glass,” Chloe said.

  I surged toward her, and the group parted like I had a disease. I took Elizabeth’s hand and pulled her in the direction of the truck. I couldn’t find the right words to apologize, so all I said was, “I’m taking you to the hospital.” She didn’t argue.

  24

  ELIZABETH

  “NICK?” I TRIED TO KEEP MY VOICE level and calm.

  The speedometer said he was going fifty miles an hour and we were still in the woods, on the two-track, the trees crowded around us. It felt like we were going a hundred.

  “Nick.”

  He glanced at me, and my heart leapt into my throat. His face was hardened to a razor’s edge, his eyes burning fire blue.

  “I’m okay,” I said. “Please slow down.”

  “You’re not okay.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “None of this is okay.”

  I pulled the napkin away from my face. It was red with blood, my blood, but the pain was already gone and I couldn’t let him take me to the hospital.

  “Stop the truck for a second. Just look.”

  He slowed and checked me. Finally, he stomped on the brake, and I had to brace myself against the dash. I’d forgotten to put my seat belt on.

  Nick threw the truck into park.

  “Cuts to the face usually need stitches,” he said. “They’ll keep bleeding and bleeding and—”

  “It’s not bleeding anymore. And I think the glass must have hit somewhere in my hairline, because I can’t find the cut.”

  He frowned and scooted closer, taking my face in his hands. Even though he’d just finished fighting, leaving the boys in the clearing sweating and panting, his hands were cold and dry.

  He examined me with a quick swipe of his fingers. I knew he’d find nothing there.

  A frown narrowed his eyes. He parted my hair, searching for the cut, and I had to bury a shiver that threatened to race up my spine.

  “Really,” I said. “I’m okay.”

  The frown deepened, and a look of suspicion followed closely behind.

  That was exactly what I’d been worried about.

  “It was probably supersmall,” I tried explaining. “It probably just looked worse than it was.”

  “Blood was pouring down your face.”

  “Right. But now it’s not. So you don’t have to drive so fast.”

  His mouth turned down at the corners. He pulled his hands away, but stayed in close proximity.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, and I nodded.

  “Maybe you could just take me home?”

  He slid behind the wheel, and like a magnet, I felt compelled to close the distance between us again. I buckled my seat belt to keep me in place.

  Nick put the truck in drive. This time he kept the speedometer needle below forty, and I was thankful for it.

  “Where did you learn how to fight like that?” I asked.

  The line of his jaw tensed. “The Branch.”

  “You could have killed them, couldn’t you?”

  He flicked his eyes to me for a second, a look that was meant as a warning. A warning not to ask that question, because I wouldn’t like his answer.

  Was I safe with Nick?

  God, I didn’t even know. I didn’t know anything anymore.

  Evan had provoked the fight. I couldn’t blame Nick for that. Of course, if he hadn’t gone off with Heather, none of this would have happened in the first place. I didn’t know why I’d even pushed him to go. Maybe because I didn’t want him to, and I wanted to see what his reaction would be. It was the wrong one.

  When we pulled into Aggie’s driveway after a long, silent ride, Nick shut the engine off. Neither of us moved.

  “What really happened?” I asked, crumpling the bloody napkins in my lap. “With Heather, I mean?”

  Heather had a reputation around town. Everyone called her a slut. I didn’t like defaulting to labels, considering all the ones attached to me. But she did tend to throw herself at anyone and everyone, so I didn’t think Heather had reacted the way she had because of Nick’s advances. It’d been her idea to go up to the cliff anyway. And I didn’t think she’d ever intended to take him up there for the view.

  “She wasn’t very nice,” Nick said.

  “To you?”

  “To you.”

  My face warmed, and I looked away, out the passenger-side window. Heather wasn’t a close friend of mine. She never had been. I could only imagine all the things she’d whispered in Nick’s ear. The stories of how I’d had panic attacks in public. How I’d been tossed around between foster homes because of them. How I’d been found once in school, cowering in the bathroom, nearly hysterical after smelling the sterile smell of bleach. Bleach always reminded me of the place where I’d been held captive. The scent unnerved me.

  “What did she say about me?” My voice squeaked.

  “It doesn’t matter. And I didn’t believe it.”

  “It’s probably true.”

  He turned in his seat. “Don’t let them get to you. They have no idea what it’s like to be you. They have no idea the things you went through. The things you’ve seen. They can pretend they know. They can dream up the w
orst-case scenario, but chances are, it doesn’t even come close. You are stronger than they are.”

  Tears burned in the depths of my eyes, and I covered my mouth when I felt a sob race to get out.

  “Elizabeth?” he said.

  I looked at him.

  A horrified expression crossed his face.

  “Don’t,” he said.

  And then I did.

  I started crying right there in the cab of Nick’s truck and couldn’t stop. I buried my face in my hands, embarrassed and upset that I had let them get to me, Heather most of all. Why did I care what she said about me?

  “Elizabeth,” Nick tried again.

  I heard his door squeak open and then shut a second later.

  Great. He was leaving me. Because who wanted to deal with a hysterical crazy person?

  But then my door opened, and Nick leaned in, drawing me into his chest. He put his arms around my shoulders, and I folded, the tears falling harder now, faster.

  He tucked me into the crook of his neck. He didn’t say anything. He just let me cry.

  I felt completely out of control of my own body, unable to stop the flow of tears or the heavy, racking sobs.

  After forever, after I’d soaked Nick’s black T-shirt and the tears had dried up, I said, my voice muffled against his chest, “I don’t feel strong.”

  “You are,” he said. “Because you survived.”

  If only he knew I hadn’t had a choice.

  Nick followed me inside the main house. Aggie wasn’t home, thank God. I found a note from her stuck to the fridge saying she’d gone to the hospital for a volunteer night shift.

  “I think I need to lie down,” I told Nick.

  “You need anything?”

  “A glass of water?” I said.

  “I’ll bring it up to you.”

  “My room is the second door on the left.”

  He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard him opening and shutting cupboards as I trudged up the stairs. While I had a few moments alone, I changed into a pair of black leggings and an oversized T-shirt.

  Nick came in a few minutes later with the glass of ice water in his hand.

  “Thanks.” I took it from him and grabbed my bottle of meds from the desk. I shook out two and swallowed both with a gulp of water.