Silver Moon (Silver Moon, #1)

by Rebecca A. Rogers

  “When do you think I can go home?” I ask.

  “Well, we checked your wallet, and didn’t find any clue as to who to call, so we decided to wait until you woke up to ask.”

  I stare at her in disbelief. “So, you haven’t called anybody?”

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  “Where’s my purse?” I glare at her. I can’t believe they’ve waited this long to see about a parent or guardian.

  “Oh, it’s over here.” She be-bops to the table by the wall, opens the top drawer, and pulls out my purse. “Here you go.” Her voice rings like a chorus of bells at Christmas.

  I snatch my purse from her. Digging through it, I pull out a scratch pad and pen.

  “Here’s my aunt and uncle’s number,” I say, ripping off a piece of paper. “Will you have someone let them know where I’m at, so I can leave?”

  She nods.

  I wait and wait. She finally comes back and says Beth is here.

  “Leave us,” Beth orders the pudgy nurse. She listens. Beth turns back around to me, placing her palms on my cheeks. She lifts my head and looks me square in the eyes. “Why did they do this?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “I have no idea.”

  “Candra, don’t lie to me. They always have a reason, even if it’s minute. What’d you do to provoke them?” Her gaze burns holes into my eyes. She makes sure I’m looking at her. When I try to glance away, she snaps my head back.

  I squeeze my eyes tightly and say, “I went to their house.”

  My body braces for impact. Any minute now and Beth can do worse than what Cameron and Ethan did to me. She releases her grip on my face and steps back.

  She whispers, “You did what?” I don’t like her voice; it has a rough edge. She might throw me out the window at any second.

  “I thought I could change things. Obviously, I was wrong. I should’ve listened to you, and to Jana. I’m sorry.” I bite my lower lip—anything to keep the pain somewhere other than my eyes.

  “Do you realize now what we’re talking about? Candra, sweetie, I don’t tell you this stuff to break your heart. I tell you because I love you and want to see you get out of here and do something with your life. I don’t want you to stay here anymore than you want to be here. And I don’t mean that in an offensive way,” she calmly says.

  I snort and give her a grin.

  “What I’m trying to say is: there are bigger and better places than West Hartford. You don’t need to get stuck in the middle of this war. It’s for us to fight, not you. That’s why I’m going to talk to your parents about sending you back home.” She stares at the sterilized white linoleum floor.

  It takes me a minute before I can say, “Thanks, Beth.” I mean, this is what I’ve wanted since I got here. So, why is it my mind is telling me I should leave, go home, but my heart is telling me to stay?

  She raises her head, pursing her lips and nodding. “Let me go speak to the nurses and get you out of here. I’ll be right back.” She disappears into the hall.

  Away from West Hartford and back to Charleston? It’s almost too good to be true. Maybe then I’ll be able to sleep at night, knowing I don’t have someone trying to stalk me, warn me about something or want me dead. But what about Ben? He saved me—my personal hero. I can’t help but think about what his family might’ve done to him, and cringe at the thought.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Beth and I arrive back home in one piece. Obviously, I have a lot to think about—home, the Conways, spending the weekend away from it all.

  We ease around the circular driveway, Beth throwing the gears into park.

  “I’ll help you inside. Wait right here,” she says. Running around to my side, she opens my door for me. Why do I feel like this happens a lot lately? Oddly enough, my leg had healed since Ben wrapped it. The hospital took it upon themselves to remove the bandages, though they never questioned why they were there. If she knew what Ben’s mom had done…

  I shudder.

  My arm being in a sling makes me uncomfortable. I’m not used to going to the hospital, or getting bandaged frequently.

  “I need to go for a walk,” I abruptly tell Beth. I need fresh air. Everything’s been so crazy lately, and I feel like a bird—caged up and unable to fly.

  She gives me a don’t-be-stupid look. “Candra, I don’t think it’s the best time to take an afternoon stroll.” As if that’s not enough, she glances over her shoulder and around the front yard, like the Conway brothers are hiding behind the trees.

  “Please,” I beg. “I’ll be careful and won’t go far. Promise.” I produce the saddest facial expression I can muster.

  Beth sighs and stares at me a few seconds before saying, “Fine. Don’t go far. If you aren’t back in thirty minutes, I’ll be looking for you.” She points at me.

  I toss my one good arm around her neck and give her a hug. “Thanks!” Then I rush off toward the road.

  No, I shouldn’t be wandering around carelessly. I might be snatched, kidnapped and killed before my thirty minute curfew is up. Cringing at the thought, I try to think of something else, something less brutal.

  My legs take me to an unfamiliar area up the street. I’ve only been the opposite way to get to school and work, but never this way. It leads me to a dead-end, and the forest.

  Don’t do it.

  But it’s too tempting. My flesh and blood beckons me to the forest. There’s something in my heritage that screams to roam free. I know exactly what it is. I know instinctively where I want to go. It’s just not the best place to be, as a human.

  My hand grates against the rough bark of the trees. The fragrances of damp earth and majestic pine trees fill my lungs. I continue walking, seeing how much further I can go, how deep the woods will allow me to go. On and on I trek, until I’ve no idea where I am. My bearings are completely messed up. The trees all start to look the same.

  A bright blue color catches my eye. I snap my head in its direction, quickly taking cover behind a tree. The hue comes from a hoodie—one I’ve seen before.

  Jana’s.

  She and Blake must be close by, because the jacket hangs from a tree branch. As I get closer, I realize more clothes dangle from branches; hers and Blake’s shirts, jeans, shoes and even underwear.

  Oh, God. They’re having an sex fest in the middle of the woods.

  “But that can’t be right,” I say aloud. It’s not something I can see Jana and Blake doing. Immediately, I scan the area around me, looking for them. All I see are acres and acres of trees.

  “Jana? Blake?” I call, but neither of them responds. They have to be close, right? I mean, they wouldn’t meander into the woods naked.

  My body gets sucked further into the woods; like I can’t control it. My legs propel me forward, further and further. With each new step, I’m left wondering how I came so far.

  “Hello?” I cautiously shout.

  Nothing.

  A few birds cackle in the tree tops. Wind rustles the leaves on the forest floor. My one good arm impulsively wraps itself around my other gimpy one for warmth. I need to go back, get out of here, but my soles firmly plant themselves in place.

  And that’s when I hear giggling. I duck behind another tree, hoping whoever it is won’t notice I’m there. I see Jana and Blake jogging toward their clothes. At first, I just stare. Then I feel awkward for being a Peeping Tom. I want to jump out and announce my presence, but what would they think about me spying on them?

  Questions race through my mind: why are they out here, in the woods, when it’s freezing? Who in their right mind would want to run around naked, especially when there are Followers, and the Conways?

  The Conways are after you, not them.

  After they dress, they just stand there, talking to one another. Blake’s arms rise and fall with whatever he’s saying. Jana’s eyebrows scowl then relax, concentrating on his words. I can’t hear anything, and Blake’s back faces me. So I survey Jana. Whatever it is, whatever has hap
pened, her face turns sour, like she smells something rotten.

  ~*~

  I make it home without them detecting me. The front door creaks open. Some show on television blares, and pots and pans clang in the kitchen.

  Beth pokes her head around the corner and says, “Just wanted to make sure it was you.”

  “Yep, it’s me,” I say, a little short-winded from my brisk walk home.

  “Your mother called,” Beth shouts over running water. I enter the kitchen and see she’s filling a pot with the cool liquid.

  I prop myself against the doorframe. “Oh, really? What’d she have to say?”

  Beth carries the pot to the stove, sets it on a burner and turns on the heat. “She wanted to check on you, make sure everything’s going okay.”

  My stomach twists. “Did you tell her about my…incident?”

  She wipes her hands on the face of her jeans. “Huh? Oh, no. Nothing about that. You know how Amy gets. She’d go crazy. She and Bill would be on the next flight up here.”

  I barely snort. “Yeah, that’s for sure.” I motion with my head toward the stove. “What are you making?”

  “Spaghetti. Should be ready in about fifteen to twenty minutes,” she says.

  I plaster a smile on my face. “Cool. I’ll have enough time to shower.”

  Beth pours defrosted meat into a skillet, and I hear it sizzle as I leave the room. Upstairs, I toss my bag near my dresser and stand in the middle of my personal space, running my fingers through my hair, trying to make sense of what I saw. I want so badly to pick up the phone, just to see if Jana’s home yet. I want to tell her that I was there earlier, that I know she and Blake were naked, roaming through the open forest like nudists.

  But I can’t let her know, because she’ll think I’m spying or something. How will I explain that?

  Oh, sorry I stumbled on your and Blake’s adventures in the great unknown around West Hartford. My bad.

  Yeah, right. She’ll never believe me. We happened to be in the same place, at the same time? No coincidence. More importantly, what were they really doing out there?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I can’t handle someone who’s hot then cold, and that’s exactly how Ben’s been acting. Obviously something happened with his parents. I’m sure he’s in some sort of medieval torture chamber for turning against his mom and helping me. He’s so distant in English—leaning as far away from me as possible, never making eye contact, not acknowledging that I exist.

  The bell rings and I practically fly out of my chair and into the hallway. Jana stops by my locker.

  “I need to talk to you after school or tonight, whenever you get a chance,” she says.

  My eyebrows crinkle. “About what?”

  “I can’t talk about it right now. Top secret stuff.”

  I laugh, but she’s perfectly serious. “Okay, you got me. Call me tonight.”

  She nods and wanders off.

  The next thing I know, a presence hovers over me. A hand slams against the locker beside mine. Out of my side vision, I see Ben.

  “Hey,” I say, trying to sound uninterested while filing away books.

  “I need to talk to you,” he says gruffly.

  “Yeah, well, seems like everyone needs to do that today,” I retort, slamming my locker and turning around to him.

  He rolls his eyes. “How’s tonight?”

  I squeeze a sigh through my teeth. “What time and where?”

  “Six. I’ll pick you up.”

  “’Kay.” Brushing past him, I trot down the hall.

  Getting answers out of Jana at lunch doesn’t work out so well. She’s adamant about waiting until tonight to tell me whatever information she has. Am I assuming it’s about Ben? Of course. Will I be surprised? Probably not.

  Nothing surprises me anymore.

  “So, just like that he wants to meet with you tonight?” Jana whispers.

  The lunchroom is heavy with voices and sounds, so it’s not like anyone will hear us. I think she’s taking extra precautions.

  “Yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I’m ready to get this over with. I saw it coming. He and Lily make a better couple, anyway.” I mold a smile onto my face.

  Jana watches me carefully, and then says, “I’d tell you right now, if we weren’t surrounded by prying ears.”

  “Um, nobody’s listening to us. We always sit in the corner of the cafeteria, away from the hoopla,” I tell her, glancing around to confirm my statement. The jocks and cheerleaders—and anyone else that matters—sit several tables over. The only people even remotely near us are a couple of loner girls who have a teen magazine, and are too busy drooling over celebrities.

  “I really want to, but this is serious. Like, I-could-be-killed-for-telling-you serious,” says Jana. Her eyes practically explode from their sockets.

  My mouth presses into a line. “Fine. Tonight it is.”

  After school, Jana offers me a ride home. I politely decline, since I’ll find out what’s so important later. I’m not in the mood to deal with drama and secrets anymore. I have enough to deal with. So, I walk.

  Chilly wind nips at my cheeks, and any other area of exposed skin. I tuck my hands in my front jean pockets and lower my head. The icy breeze makes my eyes sting and brings tears to the surface. Leaves crunch under my Chucks. The rest scatter, as the wind sweeps them across the sidewalk.

  I don’t know how much more I can handle when it comes to cold weather. What I do know is that the arctic blasts of air don’t seem as dreadful the closer I am to home. Ideas and scenes spring to life inside my mind, triggering me to forget about the cold. What’s so secret that Jana has to wait and tell me? Why won’t Ben simply crush my hopes at school?

  In a front yard I pass, an elderly lady lets her teacup poodle roam freely. She stands on the patio in a flannel nightgown, arms crossed, waiting for it to finish. As soon as she sees me, her eyes grow to the size of pumpkins. She snatches her dog and runs inside; the door crashes behind her. I hear the indistinct click as she locks it.

  She has to be a Follower, I think. People who are Followers in this town are more terrified than they are courageous, in my opinion. They only take sides with the Conways because they want to save their lives, not someone else’s.

  When I finally make it home, all I want to do is crash and disappear into my nightmare world. I don’t even care that I’m being followed by some insane psychopath who can’t make up his mind about whether he wants to kill me or not.

  The weird thing is that I can’t sleep. Usually sleeping isn’t a problem for me, but today I have too much to think about. At this point, I don’t care if Beth greets Ben at the door and rips him to pieces. I assume he’s picking me up…

  I lay in agonizing wait, staring at the red numbers on the alarm clock beside my bed. The minutes are slow, the hours even slower, but finally six o’clock arrives. I roll out of bed and leave my room, sitting on the stairs. I pull my legs up so I can rest my chin on them. The only noise in the house is the sound of the grandfather clock ticking.

  A knock startles me out of the silence. Standing, I meander to the front door and check the peephole. It’s Ben.

  I release a deep sigh before opening the door to greet him.

  “Hey,” I say with no enthusiasm.

  “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” I don’t bother to lock the door behind me. Hopefully this won’t take long. I need this to be done, as much as I hate to admit.

  Ben doesn’t speak the whole car ride. He pulls into the parking lot behind May’s. Being at this place brings back memories of the first night Jana and I encountered Cameron, and how he purposely started trouble.

  Even as he gets out of the car, Ben still won’t say anything. My heart drops, and then I remind myself that his family wants to kill me. He holds my gaze for a second, and then looks away.

  He doesn’t bother opening the door for me. This isn’t Beau Lierre, of course.

  No valet. No candles. No gentlem
an-like behavior.

  Ben leads us to a booth. He takes a seat facing the entrance, and I sit across from him.

  A waitress takes our drink orders and promises to be back shortly.

  “So…” I begin, but Ben holds up a finger to shush me.

  His expression is vacant as he stares toward the front windows. His glare is fierce enough to bore a hole through the glass.

  I seize the awkward moment to speed read through the menu. It’s the usual—burgers, hot dogs, fries, cokes. The typical ‘50s-style joint.

  Our waitress comes back with our drinks and asks if we’re ready to order.

  “I want a cheeseburger—and drag it through the garden,” Ben says. He looks at me and asks, “What do you want?”

  “Umm, I’ll just have a plain cheeseburger,” I tell the waitress.

  Ben leans forward, resting both arms on the table. “I’ve wanted to talk to you. There’s something in me that wants to explain everything to you,”—he hesitates, eyes focusing on the table and not me—“but I can’t. I want to. And I know you want me to.” He drags his fingers through his dark hair. “My family would kill me if they knew,” he says, talking to himself more than me.

  I’m afraid to say anything, afraid he might blow up at any moment.

  And I have no clue what he’s talking about.

  “Ben...”

  “No, Candra, let me do this. I have to get this off my chest. It’s killing me that you don’t know. But I don’t know if you know what it is or not. I mean, you might already know.”

  What a damn fruitcake.

  “Know that your family is royally crazy? Know that your brothers made their point about staying away from your house? Know I screwed up when trying to make peace? Yes, I know all of these things. Is there anything else you want to add, or can we go back to being enemies?” I’m surprised at how fluid the words are once they’re spoken. I’ve had them building in my chest for a while, and I guess this is the right time.

  His head is glued between his hands, elbows pinned to the table. I can’t help him. The only thing to do is wait until he’s ready to explain whatever is bothering him.