PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

I really have no other choice than to follow him. Shaking my head, I trudge through the grass a few steps behind him. It seems like an incredibly long walk. I’m exhausted by the time we finally reach the court. When I look back at the Jeep sitting lonely by the curb, I sigh. Resigned to spending the foreseeable future watching Hayden shoot baskets, I collapse on the grass like an egg dropped on cement.

  Hayden walks over with a basketball in his hands and shakes his head at me. “Nope. Not gonna happen. Get up.”

  “What?”

  “How do you expect to play sitting on the grass?”

  “Play?”

  “Yes, play.”

  My face scrunches at him. “But, I don’t know how to play.”

  “Lucky for you, I do. Get up here,” he demands.

  When I show no intention of moving, he drops the ball and comes to get me. My frown stays firmly in place as he hauls me up from the ground. He practically has to drag me out to the center of the court. I feel like crying again, but he just laughs.

  “Stubborn, huh?”

  “Depressed,” I counter.

  Hayden picks the ball back up and approaches me slowly. “I know exactly how to cure that.”

  “I highly doubt it.”

  Pulling off a perfect imitation of me wrinkling up my nose at him, Hayden laughs and starts dribbling the ball. “You clearly don’t watch basketball,” he says, “but you must know at least some of the basics.”

  “You’d probably be surprised.”

  Hayden catches the ball and holds it up like Vanna White. “Ball,” he says sarcastically. Then he points at the hoop. “Hoop. Are you following so far?”

  My scowl is ruined a bit by me laughing.

  “The ball . . . ” He points again. “ . . . goes in the hoop.” Again, he points.

  “Thanks,” I say in a snotty voice. I wait for him to continue mocking me, but he offers nothing more. “And?”

  “And what? Those are the basics. I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you on your first try.”

  “First try? That implies there will be a second attempt.”

  Hayden stalks up to me. “There will definitely be a second go at this.”

  I shake my head and take a step back. I have zero interest in basketball, and my interest in spending time with Hayden isn’t much better at this point. I can tell by the grin that springs onto his lips that getting him to back off isn’t going to be easy. I sigh, feeling awkward.

  As Hayden tries to fill the empty court with real instructions on how to play basketball, I only half-listen. After a few minutes, he warns me that he’s going to pass me the ball. That should probably mean I am ready for it, but I flinch away from the ball and it goes sailing past me. Hayden stares, looking somewhat amused and just a little surprised.

  “Wow, you really aren’t athletic, are you?”

  “I tried to warn you.”

  He grins back at me. “You’re not getting out of this that easily. Go get the ball.”

  I look over my shoulder distastefully. Turning back, I say, “You get it.”

  Hayden marches toward me, in what I’m sure is meant to be an intimidating way. His laughing at me ruins it. He grabs my hand as he marches by and tows me along with him. When we reach the ball, he scoops it up and presses it against my middle until I relent and take it. The ball slips, and that’s when I realize Hayden still has a hold of my other hand. Flushing pink, I yank my hand away from his and head for the court.

  I start doing what Hayden says, mainly out of desperation to keep him from getting too close to me or having an opportunity to touch me again. Half my attention stays on what he’s telling me to do. The other half struggles to figure Hayden out. I don’t do very well on either account.

  Hayden stands to the side when I try to shoot the ball for the first time. We both watch as it goes about half the distance to the basket and sinks like a rock. Hayden busts up laughing, and I can’t help but join him. That was pretty sad.

  “I can honestly say,” Hayden says through his laughter, “that I have never met anyone as terrible at this sport as you are.”

  “I tried to warn you.”

  He laughs again and scoops up the ball on his way to me. “Yes, yes you did. I didn’t believe you, but you have done a magnificent job of proving me wrong.”

  I can’t help it. The corner of my mouth turns up. Hayden doesn’t miss it. He shoves the ball back into my hands and slides around behind me. I jump when his hands touch my shoulders. He presses down lightly, and when I resist, starts wiggling me around until I begin to loosen up.

  “There,” he says finally, “you’re like a stick figure, all stiff and awkward.”

  “Your chances of their being a second basketball session are sinking fast,” I say.

  Hayden peeks around my shoulder looking thoroughly shocked. “Signs of a sense of humor? Wow, we are making progress.”

  I roll my eyes and shove him away from me. He goes back to showing what form is supposed to look like. I feel like a manikin as he scoots my feet into position and shows me how to hold the ball properly.

  After an interminable amount of prodding and shifting, Haden says, “Try it again.”

  My hands feel awkward as I push the ball up and away from me. My confidence is pretty low, but I watch hopeful it will go somewhere this time. It goes maybe two feet further that my first try and sails back to the court with a smack-smack-smack as it bounces into the grass. Hayden puts his hands on top of his head and tries really, really hard not to laugh at me.

  “I suck at this.”

  Hayden reaches his limit and busts up. “You do. You suck at this pretty bad.”

  He runs off after ball and tosses it back to me. I flinch again, but somehow still manage to catch it. “What?” I whine, “I have to do it again?”

  “Uh, yeah. Again and again and again.”

  Groaning dramatically, I raise the ball and look at the rim. Hayden groans as well, mumbling about how he just showed me how to hold the ball correctly! He hardly seems put out about having to come back and reposition me again. Every touch seems to linger a little longer. I try not to squirm, for the sake of not messing up my position again, but having Hayden touch me brings up more miserable emotions than pleasure right now.

  When Hayden finally stands back, I shoot again. He groans as it falls way short of the hoop. He’s still smiling, though. He tries over and over again to turn me into an only halfway terrible basketball player, but he’s going to have to get used to failure because not a single shot makes it anywhere near the rim.

  We try one on one next, and it’s no surprise that Hayden beats me soundly. The really sad thing is, I don’t think he was even trying. At some point, I actually start having fun. Not the kind of laugh out loud, never want to leave fun. Just less miserable.

  As the sun fades, even Hayden starts missing shots. After one bounces off the backboard and nearly hits me in the head, I grab the ball off the ground and refuse to give it back. “We’re done!”

  “Ah, come on. There’s still enough light!”

  “No!”

  Holding the ball behind my back, I sneak away from him and make a run for the grass. It’s not very hard for Hayden to catch up to me. He snatches the ball out of my hands. The force spins me just enough that I stumble over Hayden’s gym back. My foot tangles in the strap and I topple over and land on my backside.

  “Olivia,” Hayden laughs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to knock you down.”

  “It’s okay,” I say.

  Hayden extends his hand in an offer to help me up. I take it, but right away my hand goes clammy. I can’t seem to hold onto Hayden. My hand slips, but he drops the ball and grabs my forearm with his other hand. There’s no chance of me getting away from him now. He pulls me up with hardly any effort, but doesn’t let go.

  I start to pull away, afraid he wants to do something other than basketball. Hayden’s gentle voice stops me.

  “Olivia, thank you for staying.”

  “
Why are you thanking me?” I ask shakily. “I’m terrible at basketball. I’m sure you had better things to do with your afternoon, uh, and evening.”

  Hayden smiles. “Not at all. I had a lot of fun. I’m just sorry it took you having the worst day possible to get you to spend time with me.” Hayden reaches down and untangles my foot from the strap of his gym bag. When he stands back up, he says, “I know you didn’t really want to stay. If you don’t want to talk about what made you run away from your house, that’s okay, but if you do ever want to talk, about today or anything else, you can call me any time.”

  “I don’t even have your number,” I remind him. The thought slips out before I can think better of it. When Hayden starts smiling mischievously, I know I just painted myself into a corner.

  “I can fix that pretty easily.”

  He snatches up my phone from where I left it on a bench near the court and as he walks back to me I see his fingers flying over the keyboard. He hands me my phone, open to the contacts screen, his number right there to wipe away any excuses.

  “Thank you,” I say, not entirely sure whether I am grateful or not.

  Hayden holds his phone out to me, but I just stare at him in confusion. He uncurls my fingers and sets the phone on my palm. “Now, I want your number.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can call you the next time I need a self-esteem boost when it comes to basketball.” He grins when I laugh.

  The thin piece of metal and plastic feels heavy in my hands. I don’t move right away to enter my number. Hayden doesn’t push me, but he waits. In some ways, it feels like a betrayal to give him my number. Just as that thought pops into my head, the image of Mason’s hand slipping into Robin’s slaps me right across the face.

  My fingers start typing furiously, tapping out my anger. If Mason wants to kiss me like he did and then run off with Robin, fine! Screw him. He may not think I’m worth waiting a few hours for, but Hayden just spent his entire afternoon and evening trying to cheer me up. At the least, he deserves my phone number.

  I hand the phone back with shaking hands. Satisfaction and regret mingle in my heart, but I refuse to turn back. I manage a small smile when Hayden takes the phone. “Thank you,” I say, “for putting up with me today. I know I was lousy company.”

  “You were great,” he says softly.

  The sun has fully set now, and the park has taken on a decidedly creepy vibe. I dread actually going home. Avoiding Mason forever is hardly a plan, though. Sighing, I shove my phone in my pocket and ask for my keys. Hayden hands them over reluctantly.

  “I better get home. My parents are probably freaking out about now.”

  The way Haden’s hand touches my arm, hesitant, almost afraid, keeps me from moving away. He stares at his hand on my arm for a moment before looking up at me with an equally concerned look in his eyes.

  “Olivia, when you first got here, you said you had to get away from your house. I know you don’t want to talk about it . . . ” He pauses and takes a step closer. “If you’re scared . . . ”

  “Hayden,” I interrupt, “it’s nothing like that.”

  I don’t think he believes me totally, but he doesn’t pressure me for more. “I hope you know I was serious when I said you could call me if you needed me. Any time. For any reason.”

  It’s impossible for me to doubt him. The honest worry in his eyes melts away my lingering fear. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice raw.

  Unable to stand there any longer without breaking down again, I turn and start for the Jeep. Hayden calls for me to wait up and offers to walk me to my car, but I feel guilty for having already taken up his night and tell him I’ll be fine. I can hear him hurriedly shoving things back in his gym bag so he can catch up, but I don’t stop.

  I’ve covered half the distance when a dark shadow jumps out at me, stopping my heart and tearing a scream from my throat.

  Chapter 22

  Indescribable

  (Olivia)

  I am falling to the ground as my scream dies in my throat. My breath blasts out of me as my attacker’s body falls against mine. Terror races through my veins as I try to kick out at him, hit him, knee him, anything! My elbow connects with something hard. The attacker groans, but his grip only tightens.

  Suddenly his weight shifts on top of me. He rolls to the side and yanks me up to my knees. I try to scream again, but he shoves a hand over my mouth and yanks me upright. Desperate, my foot crashes down on his instep.

  The pain loosens his grip just enough that I can turn myself in his grip and wedge my hands between us. The fierce fury in his green eyes stabs at me viciously. A lock of blonde hair falls out from his hood, across his forehead and scarred cheek.

  Even that seems terrifying, sending my panic into overdrive. I shove against him, trying to break his grip. A surge of relief shoots through me when I gain a little separation. I bring my knee up hard into his groin, hoping it will be enough. He doubles over, groaning in pain, and I spin out of his arms.

  The two steps I take are fueled by panic before his hand snaps down on my ankle and my feet jerk out from beneath me. Screaming and kicking out with my free foot, I connect with his shoulder. He growls as he launches himself forward, crashing down on top of me. His fist follows, right into the side of my head.

  Spots of light wink in and out as my head falls back to the ground. Pain throbs through my skull as a dark shape flies in from the side and crashes into my attacker. The sudden loss of crushing weight on top of me makes me roll onto my side. Trying to get up only sends me sprawling.

  Shaking my head, I try to clear the spots away. The pain of moving sends a wave of nausea coursing through me and I collapse back to the grass. Breathe. Breathe. It’s all I can manage. The seconds that pass feel like hours, but when I finally manage to look up and see Hayden grappling with the attacker my head suddenly clears.

  “Hayden!” I call out in panic.

  I scream when the attacker’s fist pummels Hayden. He fights back, landing a punch to the guy’s chin, but takes one to his side right after. A million thoughts race through my mind as I try to reach Hayden. I don’t know how to fight. My phone is nowhere to be seen. I have no idea what to do, but I have to help Hayden!

  Blue and red lights flash through the neighborhood, pulling the attacker up off Hayden in an instant and sending him running for the opposite street. Hayden scrambles back up to his feet and tries to take off after him, but I grab his arm and hold him back.

  “Don’t!” I cry. “Please!”

  “Olivia,” Hayden calls out as he folds me into his arms, “are you okay?”

  I don’t have time to respond. An officer rushes up to us, but Hayden hurriedly points him in the direction of the fleeing attacker. Just as he takes off after him, another officer comes running up.

  “Are you two alright?” he demands.

  Hayden pushes me back and takes a look at me. “Are you?”

  I don’t know, but as I stare at him my heart breaks to see the blood running down his lip, the bruises springing up on his arm and face, and I know the hits to his side have got to be agonizing. “I’m fine,” I say, “but you . . . ”

  “I’m okay,” he says as he pulls me against his chest. “It’s okay. Everything’s alright now.”

  The officer puts a hand gently on my shoulder. I flinch at his touch, but his calm and reassuring voice keeps me from freaking out. “My name is Officer Kimball. You both look like you’re going to need some medical attention. Stay put for a minute while I call this in, then we’ll figure out what happened.”

  We both nod, but I don’t think either of us was planning on going anywhere anyway. I lay my head against Hayden’s chest and close my eyes. I start to curse my luck, wondering why some idiot would try to attack me like that when Hayden was still nearby. My body goes completely numb when I remember Mason’s nightmare from last night.

  That lunatic wasn’t trying to rob me, he was trying to abduct me! This wasn’t some random mugging i
n a park! I know without a doubt that this was a Sentinel attack. They’ve probably been watching me since the day we saw the car. This is just the first time I’ve been away from the house without Mason or Evie for a significant length of time since then. They saw their chance and took it. Dread fills me as I realize this won’t be the only attempt to find out where Mason is.

  “Paramedics are on their way to check you both out,” Officer Kimball says. “Now, can you two tell me what happened?”

  Hayden takes the lead, thankfully. He starts off by giving the officer our names and explains me heading for my car after we finished playing basketball.

  “I should have just waited for you,” I whisper, feeling like an idiot. Mason had even tried to warn me about walking around at night alone. I told him I wasn’t that stupid, but here I was being exactly that stupid.

  “It’s okay,” Hayden says as he strokes my hair. He finishes telling the officer about seeing the guy jump out and attack me, calling the police as he ran over to me, and launching himself at the attacker.

  Officer Kimball doesn’t say anything for a moment while he finishes his notes. When his pen goes still, he turns to me. “Is there anything else you want to add, Olivia?”

  I shake my head.

  “What about a description?” he prods.

  “He was blonde, with green eyes.”

  “Taller than me by a few inches,” Hayden adds, “and pretty well built. The guy was strong.”

  I close my eyes and force myself to picture him again. It makes me cringe to think of his horrible eyes and twisted sneer, but as I picture his mouth screwing into disgust I say, “He had a scar that ran from his cheek to his lip.”

  I draw my finger across my own face to show him what I mean, starting at the height of my cheekbone and moving down to the section of my lip just below the corner of my nose. The officer notes it down in his notebook and thanks us for our help. About that time, the first officer comes back, panting and empty handed. I’m not surprised.

  “I couldn’t catch up to him,” he says apologetically. “He jumped into a waiting car a few blocks away and they took off. No license plates on the vehicle, but I got the make and model.”