Destiny, YA Paranormal Romance (Brightest Kind of Darkness Series, Book #3)

by Michelle, P. T.

  “What if I never recover my memory?” Ethan steps close and touches my cheek. “Is being friends going to be enough for you? It’ll never be enough for me.”

  It takes all my willpower not to lean into his touch. Instead, I turn away and stare into the woods as I answer, “I’m not going there. You’ll get your memory back.”

  “You’re drawing a gray line with this ‘friends’ thing.”

  I stiffen at the tension in Ethan’s voice. He’s moved directly behind me and I can feel his heat seeping through my clothes, despite the cold air. If he touches me once more, I’m afraid I’ll crumble. I jerk my chin higher. I need to remain strong. For both of us.

  A strand of my hair lifts and the sound of him inhaling sends a shiver through me that only intensifies as his deep voice resonates next to my ear. “I’ve always been black and white, and when it comes to you, I’m all in. I’ll do whatever it takes to get my wheels back, Sunshine. Whatever it takes.”

  The predatory promise in his vow winds its way straight to my gut, sending a whole horde of butterflies scattering in frenzied nervous excitement. I straighten my spine and force an “all business expression” as I spin to face him. “Then focus on remembering. We need to get back or I’ll be late for practice.”

  Ethan

  I ask Nara to drop me off near the downtown mall. I figure walking off my frustration might help. As soon as she drives away, I head up a side alley. I know something more happened between us this past weekend. I feel it in my gut.

  My faulty memory had continued to spoon feed me glimpses of an erotic puzzle with all the important pieces stripped to teeth-grinding G-rated images. It had gotten to the point where I was beginning to wonder if it was all just a fantasy I’d concocted in my mind.

  Until Nara took me to the raven sanctuary.

  That place blew me away. I’m still not sure how we synced like that with the ravens. Nara seems to think it’s all me, but I honestly believe our connection made the ravens react to my thoughts about her. As the birds swirled around her and I began to feel her presence and smell her girly scents as if she were standing right next to me, that’s when a sliver of a memory started to bleed through—something about a phone call we’d had while she was at the sanctuary. But then I heard her whisper that she missed me and nothing could have kept me away. I didn’t give a damn that she’d probably get mad. I had to touch her face, to press my lips to hers and breathe her sweetness in. She quiets all my worries and fills my heart with pure happiness.

  It’s sad when you’re jealous of a bunch of birds, but there was no damn way I was letting them touch her in any kind of intimate scenario, even if they were acting on my desires. I’m the only one who will fill her needs. She can’t have the birds. She has me, and I plan to spend every day reminding her of that until she lets me back in. I’ve missed seeing her “I’m so happy to see you” smile ever since I woke up in that hospital bed.

  You really screwed up, didn’t you? Gravelly Voice interrupts my train of thought. You don’t deserve her, you know. It’s probably for the best. Might as well let her go and stop holding onto something you’re obviously losing. Then, it’ll just be you and me, like always.

  As much as he’s grating on my nerves, it occurs to me he is always with me. I turn onto the brickyard mall. Shut up. Since you’re so chatty, why don’t you fill me in on where I’ve been for the last month?

  I don’t recall.

  Bullshit. I shove my hands deep in my pockets and set my jaw, waiting for him to respond.

  You were digging. I told you not to. You don’t want to know me. See where it got you? Empty-headed and well on your way to losing the one good thing in your life. When he lets out a knowing laugh, I roll my head from one shoulder to the other. I have to work hard to keep the anger from showing on my face as I pass a mother strolling her baby. If you’re not going to tell me where the hell I’ve been, fuck off!

  Gravelly Voice begins to laugh. His laughter continues, growing so loud, I find myself heading toward McCormicks. I’m not sure what kind of reception the Irish pub’s house band Weylaid will give me since I’ve been MIA for a month, but I really need a distraction right now. Anything to muzzle the stupid voice in my head and hopefully also tamp down this desperate need for Nara. The more time I spend near her without being allowed to touch her is pure torture. I have to keep clenching my hands to stop myself from pulling her close.

  “Adder!” Ivan calls, pulling me out of my musings.

  He stands behind his drum set and points his drumsticks in my direction like double exclamation points, then waves me toward the stage in the corner of the pub.

  I wind my way past the partially filled café tables and wave to the redheaded bartender, who finally stopped carding me once the leader of the band, Dom, told him to “Let down your dreads and stop being such an Irishman.”

  Several of the bar patrons begin to clap as I pass them, but then the four band members join in—with much louder and slower, smartass claps. I roll my eyes and resist the urge to flip them off as I try to ignore how self-conscious they’re making me. The band doesn’t know my real name. Add’s just a name I gave them when I stumbled across the group and fell into practicing with them not long before I met Nara. Ivan had changed it to Adder. I’m not sure where the name Add came from, but at the time it seemed to go with the musical talent I didn’t know I had until I picked up one of their bass guitars for the first time a while back.

  I still don’t trust or understand the hidden musical talent, but all I know is, just like when I sketch the monsters I see in my dreams, playing music helps me escape from all the crap plaguing me. So every so often I show up and join in on a jam session.

  My preference is to just practice with the band, not perform with them, but it’s late in the day and their gig for the evening is about to begin. If I want the escape of music, then I must perform.

  Just as I reach the stage, Ivan sits up from pulling something out of a duffle bag sitting against the back wall. “It’s about damn time you showed up. I finally got my shit together to have this made for you and then your sorry ass disappeared.”

  Dom, Chance, and the lead bassist, Duke, laugh when the black T-shirt smacks me in the face before falling into my hands. The shirt reads Bringing the “A” to Weylaid in bold white lettering.

  “Thanks, dude.” My voice is gruff with guilt as I start to roll the shirt back up.

  “Oh hell, no!” Ivan’s pierced eyebrow shoots high. “I’ve been carrying that around for a month. Strip and put it on, kid. You’re wearing it tonight just for ditching us for so long.”

  While I do as I’m told, Chance sets his guitar next to the stool he’s pulled up for me, then plugs in the keyboard in front of his own stool. A couple of girls whistle in the background as I yank off my shirt and call out, “Looking buff there, Adder.”

  Duke’s auburn eyebrows pull down in irritation. “Put your shirt on.”

  Duke’s real name is Wey, and I smirk as I tug the new shirt on, because I know just how much he hates the groupies’ attention being pulled away from him. He’s the reason the band’s name is Weylaid. As Ivan put it, “A twist on the actual word, because it’s ironic and sex sells.”

  Dom’s dark hair looks even more clean-cut than usual. Must’ve just gotten it cut. He laughs as he reaches over and ruffles Duke’s surfer-messy hair, irritating the guy even more. “That’s rich coming from you. I’ve seen you coming out of your room naked more than I’ve seen you dressed. You can’t possibly have all the girls.”

  “One day that bed is going to fall through the ceiling.”

  I grin at Chance’s smartass comment.

  Duke gestures to the guitar leaning against my stool and grumbles, “Just grab the damned guitar and let’s get playing.”

  While the stage lights grow brighter, I quickly grip the guitar’s neck and savor the feel of the strings under my fingers.

  We play hard for two hours, and I’m coated in sweat by the time
we take a break, but at least my shoulders aren’t tense anymore.

  Just as I’m walking off stage to get something to drink, three college-aged girls walk up. The thin blonde starts to speak, when a wiry, slick, muscled arm cuts between them and grabs my wrist, then a head of curly brown hair dips between two of the girls.

  “Sorry, ladies, but Adder and I need a minute.”

  The girls murmur their understanding and head off to the bar, leaving me with Shaun.

  “Nice gig you got going here, Ethan,” he says, giving a snarky smile. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you’d joined Weylaid?”

  I haven’t seen Shaun since he and a few other guys I hung with at my last school helped me deal with two assholes who were giving Nara a hard time at Blue Ridge.

  I pull my arm from his hold and try to play off how much it bothers me that he’s seen me performing. I don’t want to have to explain my surprising new talent. Hell, I can’t even explain it. The reason this gig has worked so well for me is because no one knows me here. “I’m not a member of the band. I just fill in from time to time.”

  Shaun eyes my shirt with a cocked eyebrow. “You’re the “A” aren’t you?”

  I’d forgotten about the stupid T-shirt. Rubbing my hand on my neck, I change the subject. “I thought you’d been banned from this pub for fighting.”

  He flashes a grin and tucks his hands in his jeans pockets. “I snuck in the back door when someone walked outside to grab a smoke. Old Red Dreads doesn’t know I’m here—”

  “Hey, you there!” the bartender says as he rounds the counter, a scowl on his face.

  Shaun quickly glances over his shoulder, then back to me. “Well shit.”

  The bartender grabs hold of Shaun’s arm, and I shake my head and hide my relief behind a grimace of sympathy. “Sorry, bud.”

  As Shaun’s getting hauled away, he shouts, “See you later, Eth…er, Adder. The boys aren’t going to believe this shit!”

  Before I can dwell too much on Shaun’s parting comment, Dom calls me back to the stage to discuss upcoming songs.

  Ethan

  My dad’s BMW is parked on the road in front of our house when I pull into the driveway. I shake my head and pretend like I didn’t see my parents as I get out of my car. Unfortunately, my dad’s not about to be ignored.

  “Why are you getting home so late on a school night?” he demands as he walks up the driveway, his expensive trench coat flapping in the cool wind.

  I slip my keys into my pocket along with my hands and turn to face him. “Eleven’s not that late.”

  A scowl creases his brow. “Where were you? We’ve been waiting here for two hours!”

  I shrug and watch my mom close the car door with a quiet click, then button her cashmere coat around her as she heads up the driveway. “I didn’t tell you to wait.”

  Dad leans toward me slightly and sniffs, wrinkling his nose. “You smell like smoke. Where have you been all night?”

  I bristle at his probing questions. “Where I’ve been and what I do are none of your business.”

  “Do not speak to me like that—” my dad starts to say, but my mother puts her hand on his arm.

  “What your dad is trying to say is that he’s concerned for you, Ethan. We’ve found a doctor who’s agreed to work with you to regain your memory.”

  “Another shrink?” I laugh and shake my head. “Sorry, Mom, but that’s not happening.”

  “You don’t have a choice, son.”

  I turn a bold gaze my dad’s way. “I absolutely have a choice and the answer is never again.”

  My dad’s face turns to stone in the darkness, his tone low and harsh. “If I have to, I’ll call the police and haul you back to Michigan.”

  I snort and shake my head. “What judge would give you any say-so over me after this much time?”

  “You’re still underage, Ethan,” he snaps.

  I adopt the same hardass look he’s given me over the years and step close to him. “Try it and I’ll file for emancipation. I don’t want you in my life. You weren’t there for me when I needed you back then, and I sure as hell don’t need you now!”

  As I step back, my dad slides his hands in his pockets, a smug smile tilting his lips. “You have to have a job for that.”

  I smile back, but mine is cold, detached. “I do have a job, which is where I was just now.”

  “Who do you think is paying your medical bills?” my dad sputters. He never has liked being one-upped. “Or do you want your brother going into debt over something you did that you supposedly can’t remember?”

  I clench my fists in my pockets to keep from punching the triumphant look off his face and turn to my mother. “I’m sorry, Mom, but until he can admit that he screwed up, I don’t have anything else to say to him. There’s nothing he can teach me, nothing he can give me, and definitely nothing I want from him. Ever.”

  “He’s your father, Ethan.” Her voice trembles and she glances between us as if her quiet statement should mean something to me.

  What kind of father turns his back on his own son the way mine did? I face my dad, my whole body stiff with renewed resentment. “What do you want from me? I left so you wouldn’t have the embarrassment of a screwed up son around. Why are you hounding me after all this time? Are you feeling guilty that I was in the hospital? If that’s the case, I’ll let you off the hook. I’m good.”

  I start to walk away, but my mom speaks up once more, her voice imploring. “You’re our children. We aren’t perfect. We know we’ve made mistakes. We just want to be a part of your lives.”

  I whirl back to them, addressing my dad, so he can’t possibly miss the look of angry frustration in my eyes. “If you really want that, then for God’s sake, stop being such an ass to Samson. As far as I’m concerned, he’s the only one I owe anything to.” My gaze swings between my parents. “Does he even know you’re here?”

  When they don’t say anything—just look at each other—I shake my head, then strengthen my tone, directing it at my dad once more. “Let me give you some facts about your oldest son. He knows me better than you ever did. He’s been there for me every step of the way, seeming to know exactly what I needed even when I didn’t. Did you know that he has enough money in the bank to buy a second home if he wanted to? Just because he didn’t finish college doesn’t mean he’s a failure. Make amends with him. Seriously make the effort and not some half-assed attempt just for show, then maybe I’ll talk to you. Until then, back off.”

  My dad’s gaze narrows.

  I stiffen and mentally prepare for another arrogant tirade of threats.

  “When did you become a man?”

  I’m so surprised by his question, I answer honestly. “When I had to take on everyone else’s crap and figure out how to remain sane.”

  I don’t stay to watch my parents dissect my comment. Instead, I turn away and call over my shoulder as I head for the front door. “I’ve got school tomorrow. Good night.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ethan

  Other than driving to school together this morning, Nara has managed to avoid me all day. I know she’s doing it on purpose, which drives me freaking nuts. It’s like she doesn’t want to be alone with me.

  As soon as the thought hits me, my fingers dig into the locker door, denting it slightly. Then I remember her whispering how much she missed me yesterday…and the heat of our kiss…and my grip on the metal eases. She doesn’t trust herself to be alone with me. That I can work with.

  My lips curl into a pleased smile as I grab a couple of books from my locker. Since I’m hitching a ride home with her, she’ll have to talk to me. It’s not like she can kick me out of her car once we’re in my driveway. My brother had told me in the hospital it would be another week before my car’s ready. That’s plenty of time to bring Nara back to me.

  “Hey, Ethan.” Lainey walks up behind me, her boyfriend in tow. “Nara has to stay after and talk to her teacher about an upcoming project. Since
Matt passes right by your neighborhood, he’ll be happy to give you a ride home.”

  My gaze shifts past Matt’s blond head to the Welsh guy Drystan, who’d stopped to talk to a couple of cheerleaders in the hall. I’ve seen him hanging with the basketball player after school, which means he’s probably living with Matt’s family. The idea of sharing a car with the guy sets my nerves on edge, but for a split second I actually consider accepting the ride. It would be the perfect opportunity to brush against Drystan and see what kind of negative stuff I absorb. My gut tells me he has some baggage. As soon as the thought flickers through my mind, I dismiss it. I know he’s hiding something beyond his agenda to win Nara over, but I’ll figure him out later. Alone time with Nara takes priority right now.

  I close my locker and nod my appreciation to Matt for the offer. “Thanks, Lainey, but I’ll just wait for Nara.”

  “Are you sure?” She waves to Matt. “He’s happy to drop you off. It’s no problem.”

  Lainey seems especially accommodating. This feels like a Nara set up. I grit my teeth and smile past my annoyance, shaking my head. “I’m good.”

  She sighs and tilts her head, looking at me with sympathy. “Any more memories coming back?”

  I hold her steady gaze, a challenge in mine. “You mean other than the one where you sent me a picture of Nara dressed up for the dance and told me ‘This is what you’re missing?’”

  Lainey giggles sheepishly as she flips her long hair over her shoulder. “Well, it all worked out, didn’t it?”

  “It’s going to.” My lips curl in a determined, wolfish smile. “That’s all that matters.”

  “Nara will be out soon,” Lainey tuts and waves, tugging her boyfriend behind.

  I wait until the hall clears out, then stroll toward the atrium area where people often hang out after school. As I reach the open space, a strong buzzing rings in my ears and the hair on my arms rises.