“Can you manage to be nice? I can take your witty sarcasm, in fact, I love it. But Candy, she’s…breakable.”
Understanding what he means, I nod. “Yeah, I can manage that.”
Hunter’s fingers curl at the back of my neck. He leans in and places a chaste kiss on my forehead. “I know you can. You can do anything. You have no idea how strong and precious you really are.”
His words penetrate and pierce right through my shield, sinking into the core of my heart. “Can we go back and eat pancakes now?” I ask his throat.
“Yeah, we can go back and eat pancakes.”
When Hunter and I make our way back down to the kitchen, I introduce Candy to Birthday. After witnessing that calamitous scene with Hunter and Candy, never in a billion years would I imagine myself sitting comfortably between the two, contently eating Hunter’s chocolate chip pancakes.
Part III
Revelation
Chapter twenty-eight
Freefalling
It’s been two weeks since Hunter gave me Birthday. Falcon, Vic, and Harmony fell in love instantly when they saw her. How could they not when she is the loveliest puppy in the world? Hunter hasn’t called, but that’s not anything unusual. Max has called. We talked just about every day. I’ve really grown to like him, a lot. He hasn’t seen me since our burnt taco dinner date, though. He said his father needed him to work extra hours at the Gabai’s Security Industry base on top of his shifts as a police officer, so he didn’t have free time available. Two Fridays have passed and I have not had any contact with GreenFrog whatsoever. Since I don’t know much about GreenFrog, I don’t know what to make of this.
I flex my fingers, trying to get more blood to circulate through my frozen veins. My wounded hand has completely healed and didn’t even leave a scar.
A cold silver flake sticks to my heated cheek and dissolves on impact. I tip my head back and stare at the vast, dark gray sky as chunky snowflakes begin to fall all around me. I stand at the very top of Cherry Cliff: a sheer cliff facing the deep riverbank below me. I’ve ignored the black and yellow reflective caution signs with crumbling rock images that’s rooted into the earth and wandered to the very edge of the cliff. Falcon dropped me off. I’ll call Harmony to come and get me when I’m ready to leave. They all wanted to stay, but I need to be up here alone to gather my thoughts and objectives.
My father, Ivan, took me and Tyler here all the time. In the summer, we would sit up here on a blanket and eat ham and cheese sandwiches and talk for hours. My mother, Isabelle, was terrified to ever leave the house. She could come outside, around the grounds of the house. But when it came to leave and go beyond the area, she couldn’t. My mother was struck with severe anxiety and panic attacks when it came to the simplest thing, like going to the grocery store. My mom didn’t have the strength and that put more pressure on my dad, who loved to travel.
He told us he gave up his career in the military as a communications equipment technologist. He told us that he’s been all over the world. Everyplace Tyler and I blurted out my dad would nod and tell us his favorite memory of that exact place. He said he gave it up for my mom and didn’t regret doing it. My father said he would do it again, in a heartbeat if he had the chance. My parents met in high school, here in the small-town of Cherry Creek. They grew up together and were high school sweethearts. She was meek and quiet and he was lively and outgoing. Opposites played in their favor, until they graduated high school. My dad wanted to experience the world while my mom was satisfied and content with living and staying in town. So, he made her a promise, a promise to come back to her in four years. The rest is history.
The howling wind up here is bone-chilling, so cold that the moisture at the seam of my lips is frozen. My breath is stuck in my throat and I can’t keep my fingers warm. I should walk away and leave now, but the scenery of the wide, dark shimmering river and overcast sky is too captivating to turn my back on. This place is just too beautiful.
Inhaling deeply, I take in a lungful of crisp, fidget wintery air. Then, suddenly, I’m violently shoved off the edge of the cliff. There are three stages my mind automatically goes:
The first is pure and undulated fear. I’m free-falling. I’m going to die and I’m scared to die, I’m also terrified of the pain of the impact and the unknown. What happens after death?
The second is acceptance. There is nothing I can do about it. The push off the ledge was so sudden that I didn’t have time to struggle or catch a breath to scream.
The third is self-preservation. I don’t want my life to end here, it can’t end here. I have so much to live for…
The impact of the crash is instant. I suck back icy water as I release a bloodcurdling scream. Pain radiates from every fiber of my being. It feels like I plunged straight into a sea of razor-sharp frozen needles that ruthlessly tear at my flesh and rips and snaps at every warm thing within my body. A million mesmerizing oxygen bubbles do an elegant dance as they race each other up to the surface. My long hair is a dark mass that spreads around me like ghostly smoke. My clothes are like heavy iron that only weighs me down. Fighting with everything I have, I mindlessly claw at the dark water, hoping that something or someone hears my prayer and saves me, hoping that I am miraculously delivered from my doomed fate. The blaze of holding my breath so long is scolding my lungs and frying my brain. It’s excruciating.
I didn’t want you to go out like this, Tyler whispers to me.
I wanted better for you.
You deserve so much better.
But I’m here.
I’ve been waiting…
Sinking into a dark and bottomless pit, I take my final breath—a small gasp—releasing the blistering inferno inside my body and allowing the icy water in. It erases the memories, erases every thought, whether it’s pleasant or not. I don’t have any say in the matter. I’m left without anything…my mind is just blank.
***
Hero
Fuck, it’s cold out here. My teeth can’t stop chattering together. I toss a rock in the river and watch it sink in the black water. Tyler used to beg me to come up here. We would climb the cliff and stargaze at night. I didn’t mind doing that when he was alive. It took me away from my problems at home. I didn’t have to worry about my mother beating the shit out of me and my little sister, Naya. I didn’t have to care or understand me and Naya’s complex relationship, how she slept in my bed every night since I can remember and how she now rubs up against me, crushing her tits to my back and how hard I get every single time she does that. I didn’t have to be concerned about my father’s AA meetings and him falling off the wagon. I didn’t have to care about my parents’ catastrophic divorce. I didn’t have to feel bad about lying to Hunter when he asked me if everything was okay. I didn’t have to worry about Taylor’s home life and safety. I didn’t have give a fuck about anything. It was just the luminous dead stars and Tyler and I. But now, standing here alone at the edge of the riverbank pisses me off. It’s no longer a place of tranquility. I can’t even make it up the fucking cliff without him next me—my legs started to shake and gave up on me not even halfway up the trail.
I hurl another rock in the water and turn my back, heading to my car. Then something heavy splashes into the river. It could really be anything. But something about that sound makes me stall. I dig the heels in the wet gravel, considering the possibility of turning around. Annoyed and frustrated, I sigh and swing my torso in the direction of the river. Many air bubbles and ripples break the surface of the water. Fear settles in the pit of my stomach. Without another thought I’m racing into the frosty river with arms wide open. The temperature of the freezing water shocks my system. But that isn’t enough to deter me. I inhale a deep breath and plunge deeper, following the last traces of shimmering bubbles. The further I dive, the darker it gets until it is complete and total blackness. My eyes have no use for me here. I swing my arms out in front of me, blindly searching for something to pull up. My fingers curl around strands of som
ething soft. It may be a plant, but whatever it is, I tug harshly and yank whatever’s attached to it up to the surface with me. My oxygen is depleting. Shooting up and breaking through the surface, I realize its Isabel.
I wrap an arm around her waist and haul her along the water until we reach the gravelly bank. I lay her cold, limp body gingerly down. My fingers fumble to the side of her neck. No pulse. Panic sets in and I press my lips to her icy blue ones and begin CPR while my hands frantically pump over her heart.
This can’t end like this.
Tyler died and I couldn’t help him.
I was not there to help him.
Isabel can’t die like this.
She can’t, not while I’m here and I can do something about it.
NO!
NO!
NO!
“Isabel, breathe,” I say in a strained plea before blowing air into her mouth.
She’s unresponsive.
“Come back Isabel!” I order, before I force another breath down her throat. My tears drop from my chin and roll down her wet face.
My hands are demanding and relentless over her heart. “Do you hear me? Come back. We need you!” I yell, pressing down over her heart again.
Pump.
Blow.
Pump.
Blow.
Pump.
Blow.
How long have I been pumping her heart and breathing for her?
Seconds?
Minutes?
It feels like forever.
She’s still unresponsive; the only movement is the false rise and fall of her chest as I force more oxygen into her still lungs.
She’s not responding but I continue to breathe for her relentlessly.
Pump.
Blow.
Pump.
Blow.
I drop to my knees and crawl up to the cold body; her skin is too pale and blue against the ground. I do the only thing I can: hold the lifeless girl that Tyler loved beyond reason in my arms.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I whisper desperately as I rock her back and forth, wishing she’d wakeup.
Her body convulses in my arms. Almost immediately she wakes. She turns her head to the side and coughs up water. I smooth her inky hair away from her face as she takes huge sustaining gasps, desperately trying to catch her breath.
Her green-hazel eyes are wide and frantic, searching for something to grasp onto until her eyes land on mine. “Hero?” she coughs. “I want to live.”
Chapter twenty-nine
GreenFrog
I nervously shift my weight on both feet after slipping on Naya’s gray and pink sweat suit. The thick cotton is warm and pleasant against my skin. Hero received a phone call from his sister and he told me he had no choice but to stop by his house first. I didn’t mind. He saved my life. I owe him so much more.
Naya and Hero enter through the door of her room. He has a small hair dryer in his hands. Hero tilts his head in the direction of Naya’s bathroom. “Come. I need to dry your hair and drop you off at Falcon’s house before my mom gets back.”
“I can—” I begin to protest until Hero cuts me off.
“Don’t,” he warns in a low, menacing voice. “Don’t argue with me. Just get over here and let me dry your fucking hair, dammit.”
I flinch from the fierceness of his voice. Naya hugs me from behind, wrapping her arms underneath mine. My muscles unclench in her affectionate embrace. “He’s just pissed right now. He’ll calm down after a while. It’s just easier to do want he wants. Don’t be afraid of him. Hero’s not the one you should ever fear.”
I nod and she releases me. Once in the bathroom, I sit on a small pink plastic stool in front of the mirror as Hero, despite his attitude, lovingly blow-dries my hair. He massages my scalp. His fingers are very skillful there. This cannot be his first time drying a girl’s hair. The heat from the dryer feels like heaven against my flesh.
Naya sifts her slender fingers through my hair. I smile at Naya in the mirror when her woeful eyes meet mine. There such a startling color: purely emerald green, like Tyler’s. The resemblance of Naya and Tyler is very bewildering. It’s not something I can quite process.
Hero’s phone rings, causing Naya to jump out of her skin. He switches off the dryer and places it on the marble sink countertop, then grasps one of Naya’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Nigh. I’m going to answer it and come right back.”
“No!” She twirls around and clings and clutches desperately to Hero’s body as if she wants to crawl inside him.
“Shh. It’s okay,” he coos, stroking her dark hair. “I promise. I’m coming right back. I’m promise.” Hero leans back and cradles Naya’s sweet face in his hands, gazing intently into her wide panic-stricken eyes. “I’m going right in the hall, Nigh. Right outside your room. I won’t be long, not ever. Okay?”
Her entire body trembles around his. “Not ever?” she mumbles and it’s barely a whisper.
He kisses her forehead. “Not ever. Now help me out and keep Isabel company, yeah?”
She nods against his chin but doesn’t move.
“Nigh, did you hear me?” Hero asks softly.
She suddenly lifts her head and stands on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his. She does this repeatedly and he doesn’t stop her. I inhale sharply but they ignore me. He closes his eyes with a heady expression morphing his features. In this moment they don’t appear as brother and sister, they look more like lovers tossed in a difficult situation.
Hero opens his eyes with some kind of resolve. “I’ll be back,” he says, prying her limbs from his body.
Hero glares down at the latest iPhone in his hands as he exits the bathroom. It’s clear that something tremendously horrible happened to Naya to cause her such distress. She’s obviously traumatized. I wonder by what, though. But what’s really got my interest peaked is Naya’s and Hero’s relationship.
Is that just an innocent kiss or is there more to their story?
“Are you going to the Winter Ball, Isabel?” Naya asks, playing in my hair.
“I don’t know. I haven’t been asked.”
The Winter Ball is an annual formal social gathering that the entire town is involved in. It’s held in Cherry Creek Hotel that’s been in the town square since the early nineteen hundreds. The town square is lined with shops and has always had a holiday feel to it. The Winter Ball is an event that you go to be noticed, where others go to primarily gossip for entertainment. Drinking, eating, dancing, and conversing while wearing expressive gowns and tuxedos. Yes, it’s a thriving place for liars, cheaters, and killers?
She hums a little. It’s a beautiful melody and the song is vaguely familiar. “Hero is taking me. He was supposed to go with Taylor but she’s going with Rex. He was upset about it. Hero is in love with Taylor.”
“That’s lovely. Did Hero tell you he was in love with Taylor?” I ask curiously, careful not to frighten her any further.
She shakes her head, eyes glued to my hair. “No. But he doesn’t need to tell me. It’s in his eyes. They sparkle like sapphires when he speaks about her. I know that look very well thanks to Hunter. Hunter’s eyes always sparkle when he talks about you.”
My brows crease. I don’t know what to say to that.
Hunter loves me?
“I’m wearing a white dress to the ball,” Naya merrily informs me, threading my hair in an intricate braid down my back. “You should wear white, too. We should match.” She continues to hum. I recognize the song now, “Here Comes the Sun” by The Beatles.
“I don’t know if I’m going, Naya,” I say sheepishly. “I have yet to be asked.” It’s tradition since the beginning of time that the males of Cherry Creek ask the females to the Winter Ball in some absurd way. It’s like a proposal, a statement to the entire town that the couples attending are, in a way, one and united.
“I’m sure Hunter will ask you.” Her eyes flicker to mine in the mirror and she smile
s so purely at me, so much so that I feel it in my core. Naya is a very sensitive soul like Tyler was. She’s so fragile and vulnerable in every aspect that you have to be extremely careful and cautious of how you treat her. Like if you weren’t attentive enough she could just break and shatter before your very eyes. But it’s the beauty within her delicateness that makes her irresistibly sweet and innocent in the most unworldly way.
“Oh, I don’t know, Naya. Hunter and I are only…friends,” I say softly, not wanting to upset her. “The Winter Ball is a very, very serious event for the people of this town. Most people only go with someone they implicitly love.”
Her ear tilts toward her shoulder, her wavy hair cascading down her slim arm. Naya’s green eyes hold mine captive in the mirror, an inquisitive look washing over her expression. “Im-plic-it-ly,” she tests the word on her tongue. “What does it mean?”
“Well, in this case it means,” I say through a smile, “having no doubts or questioning. Let me use it in a sentence: I have faith that sun will implicitly rise every morning.”
“Oh,” she nods her head, understanding, “like I implicitly love my brothers.”
“Yes. That’s a great use of that word. You’re really smart, Naya. You catch on very fast.”
She shrugs, nonchalantly and her eyes drift back to my braid in her hands. “Yeah, but my mom doesn’t think so. She says I’m incapable of proper brain function and that I have the intellect of pet. I think that’s just a really fancy way of calling me retarded.”
This hurts my heart and bothers Naya a great deal. I can tell. “You are not retarded. No, far from it. In fact, you have more sense than most of the people I know.”
Her lips stretch into an impish smile. “Well, you must don’t know very many people.”
Pure Illusion (Web Of Deception #1) Page 17
