Fated

by T. L. McDonald

  "Nope, not a damn thing," Will answers, irritation evident in the sound of his voice. "She's all yours."

  Jared watches Will leave the room before turning to face me. "What was that all about?"

  "Nothing. I think he's just mad because I totally drooled all over his pillow," I lie. I can tell Jared doesn't really buy it, but for whatever reason he doesn't question me about it. Standing up, I take his hand and kiss his cheek. "Let's go get that pizza shall we."

  In the kitchen several empty pizza boxes litter the island counter with only one box left containing two slices. Jared puts them on a paper plate while I take a seat at the table as far away from Will as I can get. I don't know what these feelings I have for Will are yet. Are they like him like him feelings or are they nothing more than a lapse of judgment brought on by a stroll through the land of temporary insanity? I don’t know, but what I do know is I can't like him and Jared both because to do so wouldn't be fair to any of us.

  "I rounded up some of the guys at The Compound while Owen and I were there," Luca says, interrupting my thoughts, which is good because honestly I have bigger things to worry about then trying to figure out my feelings, like saving my brother. "They agreed to give us additional support tonight at The Iron Knife."

  Will takes a soda out of the fridge. Leaning against the counter, he pops the tab and takes a long swig while watching me from under the cover of his lashes. Once the can is empty he tosses it into the trash under the sink. Avoiding my eye now, he redirects his attention to Luca. "That's good. We can use all the help we can get. Who knows what we could be walking into tonight and the more people we have the better our odds will be at getting Hanna's brother back unharmed."

  "I still think this is a bad idea." Cassidy crosses her arms over her chest in what I now consider her signature move.

  "Good thing nobody asked you." Luca gets up from his seat beside her at the island. Grabbing his half eaten pizza off his plate, he heads into the living room across from the kitchen area. He plops down on the sofa beside Eric, throwing his feet up onto the coffee table. Eric immediately knocks Luca's feet down and begins wiping off the tabletop with the hem of his shirt. It reminds me of something Adam would do and I start to smile until I remember where Adam is right now.

  "Not hungry?" Jared asks. He glances down at the two slices of pizza growing cold on my plate. I pull off a pepperoni intending to eat it and then decide not to. Worrying over what's happening or could be happening to Adam isn't really leaving me with much of an appetite.

  "Yeah, I guess not." I let the pepperoni drop back onto the plate. I catch Owen staring at my uneaten food. "You can have it, if you want." I offer.

  “If you insist. After all it would be a shame to let good pizza go to waste." Owen takes a seat beside me at the table. I slide the plate in front of him with a half smile.

  After dinner we go back to waiting and it's killing me. I glance at the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time. Only a minute has passed since the last time I looked even though it feels like it's been longer. I want so much to get this over with, to get Adam back and time just seems to move torturously slower and slower.

  After awhile Owen and Luca disappear with Eric and Logan to the basement to do whatever it is they do down there leaving me alone in the living room with Cassidy, Will, and Jared. Will's still avoiding me and is busying himself by throwing knives at a beam positioned against the back wall. He's got about seven of them lodged in it at the moment in the shape of a happy face that's missing an eye. Cassidy's phone chimes every few seconds with incoming texts from whomever she's steadily messaging. She too avoids looking at me, but I catch her glimpsing at Jared every so often in a manner that makes me believe she's up to something. As per usual Jared doesn't seem to notice. In his own little world he sits staring at the photo of him and his birth mom, the little silver box perched on his knee.

  I glance at the clock again, growing more and more antsy. Five minutes is all that's past. With nothing to do but endlessly wait all my thoughts keep circling back to Adam. Is he okay? Is Blondie torturing him in some hideous new way for fun while I sit here counting the seconds? Is Adam calling out for me to rescue him right this very minute or silently pleading I'll stay away in some feeble attempt at protecting me?

  I start to bounce my knee up and down as I chew on the inside of my bottom lip, and when another knife slams into the beam behind me, I startle. Cassidy’s phone chimes again with another text and I swear each time it chimes the sound of it grows louder and louder until I want to cover my ears with the palms of my hands. Finally, I can't take it anymore and I heave myself off the sofa.

  Outside the early evening air against my face is calming. Walking to the edge of the porch, I sit spreading my legs out in front of me on the steps. The sun hovers just above the horizon bathing the sky in an array of colors.

  I hear the sound of the door opening behind me though I don't turn to see who's there because I don't have to. I can already feel him.

  "How you holding up?" Jared asks, sitting down beside me. He's close enough that the skin of our arms touches, spreading warmth throughout my body. It's funny how he does that. Just the slightest touch, no matter how small or insignificant, has the ability to affect me so deeply. When he's near, all the bad stuff seems to fade and for a few precious moments I feel safe, I feel happy.

  I lean my head onto his shoulder. Taking his hand in mine, I link our fingers together. They fit perfectly. "As well as can be I guess. And you?" I shift my head so I'm looking up at him. His eyes are the same shade of summer grass in the bright sun. They're always green, his eyes, but they never seem to be the same shade. I wonder if they've always been like that, a little subtle sign indicating he's so much more than he ever thought he was?

  He starts to shrug before remembering my head is still resting against his shoulder. He cracks a smile. "I'll be fine. As long as I have you, I'll always be fine."

  I sit up. "Aren't you scared about tonight? So many things could go wrong." The thought of Blondie taking both Adam and Jared from me is terrifying. I shove it away before it has a chance to give me a panic attack.

  "I don't know. I suppose I am on some level," I look at him again, giving him my best dubious face. "Okay, on a lot of levels, but I'm choosing to have faith that everything will work out because the alternative isn't something I even want to consider."

  "Neither do I." Letting go of his hand, I wrap my arm around his waist as I lean my head against his shoulder once more. I close my eyes letting myself pretend for just a moment that our lives are different, that fallen angels aren't real, that Adam's safe at home, that Jared's not some supernatural mix of good and evil holding the balance of the world in his hands and instead he's just the boy from across the street, my best friend, the boy I fell head over heels for. Right now we should be going on dates to the movies or whatever and the only thing I'd have to worry about is what I was going to wear.

  "Hey, it’s going to be okay." Jared places a finger under my chin, lifting my face to his. He wipes away a fresh tear running down my cheek with his thumb. "I don't know how, but somehow it's all going to be okay. I promise." I hope he's right. He kisses my forehead, holding his lips against my skin for the longest time and then he wraps me in his arms where it's warm and safe.

  A throat clears from behind us. Standing awkwardly by the door, Will looks straight at Jared without so much as a glance in my direction. "Eric wants to see you for a moment down in the basement."

  "Okay," Jared tells Will and then turns back to me. He kisses me softly then rests his forehead against mine. "Just have faith," he whispers. He kisses my forehead once more then stands. He nods at Will as he goes into the house.

  Turning away from the door, I watch the shadows lengthen in the driveway with the setting sun. I used to like the dark. I used to lay out in the back yard and watch the stars while the whole world around me slept and never once was I afraid of what might be out there. But now I know better. Now I know I was
never alone in the dark. Now I know there are terrible things out there capable of destroying everything I've ever held dear and knowing that, experiencing that, makes the world feel so cold, and I no longer see the beauty in the night. All I want now is the light.

  "Do you mind if I sit with you?" Will asks, giving me a small heart attack. He looks down at me waiting for permission.

  I nod. He sits close, but not close enough to touch. An uncomfortable awkwardness settles between us. With his arms resting against the tops of his knees he passes an apple between his hands. He holds it out to me. "For you."

  "Thanks," I mutter. "So, um, what's in the basement?"

  "Weapons mostly. Training equipment. That sort of thing. Eric likes to be prepared. He's got one of those punching dummies down there he likes to assault on a daily basis. It's been beaten so many times it’s literally only being held together with strategically placed duct tape."

  "Really?" I take a bite of the apple. It's sweet. Juice runs down my chin, I wipe it away with the back of my hand.

  "What did you think was down there?" Will asks, a little amused.

  "I don't know. I guess a weapons cache or maybe a torture chamber for captured Fallen or something." He starts to laugh and I smile.

  "Sorry to disappoint you, but there is no torture chamber. The only thing that gets tortured down there is the dummy I mentioned earlier."

  "Considering Eric has a training room, doesn't he mind that you throw knives at his living room walls?"

  "Not as long as I keep it contained to the one beam. If I were to hit anything else on the other hand he'd have a total fit."

  "What about the dummy? Does he let you throw knives at the duct taped dummy?" I say teasingly. We're starting to fall back into a more comfortable zone and it feels nice. I might not clearly understand what my feelings exactly are for him, but the one thing I do know for sure is we work well as friends.

  "Only on Tuesdays," he answers with a grin and I laugh.

  "Bummer for you since it's Friday."

  He slaps his knee, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Damn. Guess I'll have to use Blondie as a substitute." The idea of Blondie being stuck full of knives is definitely a pleasant one.

  "Only if I get to throw the first one," Straight into his heart.

  "Do you even know how to throw a knife?"

  "Yeah, you take a knife and you throw it," I say, taking another bite of my apple.

  "Smart ass." He nudges my shoulder with his. The last bit of glow from the sun is almost gone now and I can't help but notice how the deep blue of the evening sky matches the deep blue of Will’s eyes perfectly. "It's a little more complicated than that. You can't just throw, you have to know how to hit the target too."

  "I could hit a target...probably." I glance down at the symbol on my wrist, wondering if it has some hidden knowledge of knife throwing skills to bestow upon me since it's already given me strength, speed, and apparently impressive telekinetic abilities.

  Grabbing my hand he stands, pulling me to my feet. "Well, let's find out. I just so happen to have a knife and right there's a tree."

  The front door opens and slams, starling me. Will instantly drops my hand as he takes a few steps back putting distance between us.

  Very unpleasant ramblings about Cassidy and where she should shove her head tumble from the lips of a very annoyed Jared. He punches the trim outside the door leaving a smear of blood behind. He shakes his now injured hand forcibly while spouting a few obscenities. This is the first time Jared's expressed any real anger toward her. Whatever she did or said must have been bad.

  Running his hand through his hair, Jared closes his eyes as he takes a deep steadying breath. He pulls on the ends before letting go. He opens his eyes taking in both Will and I. "Sorry, you had to witness that. It's just..." He pauses with a look on his face like he's searching for the right words. "She's such a bitch."

  A few drops of blood fall from Jared's split knuckles, landing on the wooden planks of the porch floor. Before I can reach for his hand to access the damage he wipes the blood off with the hem of his shirt. Seeing that it's still bleeding, he holds his shirt against it, applying pressure.

  "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.

  "Not really." Jared's voice is harsh, still full of anger. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to snap at you." He takes a few more deep breaths, trying to center himself. "So, what are you guys up to?" Calmer now, he examines his hand. The bleeding across all four of his knuckles has almost stopped with just a small amount still oozing out.

  I glance at Will. His thumbs are hooked into the pockets of his jeans and his head is angled down so he's staring at the ground. "Will was just getting ready to show me the proper way to throw a knife," I answer.

  "I should probably show you too," Will adds. He keeps his eyes trained on Jared like he's trying too hard not to look at me.

  Is this how it's going to be now, awkward tension and confused feelings whenever the three of us are in the same area together? Because I don't want that and if I can feel it, I know they can too, which isn't good because eventually one of us, if not all of us, are going to end up hurt because of it.

  "Can we practice using Cassidy as the target?" Jared suggests with a teasing smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

  Will laughs outright relieving some of the weird tension permeating the space around us. "Sometimes I'd really like to. But no."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Having borrowed a change of clothes from Will, (dark wash blue jeans, a turquoise t-shirt that happens to accentuate his eyes, a well worn black motorcycle jacket, and an even more well worn black ball cap frayed around the edges), Jared steps out of Eric's SUV, parked outside of my house. He pulls the cap lower, hiding his eyes. It's a familiar gesture and one that reminds me of all the other countless times he's done it with his old blue Lake Haven High baseball cap that's now trapped under a fallen tree in the woods courtesy of Zoe.

  "Are you sure it's safe to be standing outside the vehicle with your house right across the street? What if your mom sees you?" He flinches when I mention her, but doesn't answer. Even though Blondie knows he's alive, Jared and Eric both decided it's still best for Jared's mom to be kept in the dark in the hopes it'll keep her safe, even though keeping Adam in the dark didn't keep him safe at all.

  Jared lowers the bill of his cap even lower when I gaze over at his house. His yellow Jeep sits in the driveway, parked in the same place as always. His mom must have picked it up from police impound at some point in time. A terrible sadness takes root in the center of my chest, as I stare at it. I hate that she's sitting in that big empty house mourning the loss of her only son when he's standing right here, right across the street, and she can't even know.

  But as much as it sucks, maybe it is for the best. Because how horrible would it be for her to see him now, only to potentially lose him again if things go south tonight, though I hope and pray they don't.

  Keeping his back facing toward his house and the life he had to leave behind, Jared slips his hand into mine. The look he gives me says everything he won’t dare vocalize and I mentally kick myself for wanting to stop here just so I could change into my own clothes before we go to the club because the idea of wearing Zoe's makes my skin crawl when I know she'll more than likely be there with Blondie tonight. It seems so stupid now, and I didn't even stop to consider how Jared would feel coming here. And seeing his face now, breaks my heart.

  I want to apologize for being insensitive, but we're walking up the drive and the words seem to get lost somewhere in the back of my throat because we're almost to the front door and unsettling thoughts are starting to pop into my head.

  What if the house isn't empty? What if this is where Adam was taken and The Fallen who took him have returned, lying in wait to see if I'll be stupid enough to come here so they can take me too. Or worse, so they can take Jared because they know he'll be with me.

  When Will, having decided he's going in first, slides my ho
use key into the lock, I stiffen. When he turns the key, the sounds of the tumblers moving are all I can hear. When he reaches in to turn on the foyer light, I'm so wound I feel like I'm about to burst out of my skin.

  But there’s nothing there except for the soft yellow light spilling out onto the porch from the overhead fixture. I sigh a little but don't release my death grip on Jared's hand. There may not have been anything lurking behind the front door, but that doesn't mean there are still things hiding in the shadows elsewhere in the house.

  Drawing a knife from an inside pocket of his jacket, Will takes the first step inside. Jared and I follow closely behind. Nothing jumps out at us from the darkness of the kitchen or living room and we all collectively let out a breath. The front door behind me closes with a click that echoes throughout the foyer and I jump.

  Jared looks at me apologetically. "Sorry," he whispers.

  "You two wait here while I check out the house." Will gives Jared and I a look that's both stern and pleading. Not waiting for either one of us to agree Will starts with the downstairs, turning on every light as he goes. No one says it out loud, but none of us want to be in the dark.

  "I'm starting to lose feeling in my fingers," Jared whispers beside me.

  "What? Oh, sorry." I let go of his hand. He wiggles his fingers around flexing them to get the stiffness out.

  "All clear!" Will yells from somewhere upstairs.

  Jared offers me his hand despite the fact I’d just squeezed the heck out if it moments before. I take it and together we head up the stairs.

  "I'm sorry I suggested we come here. I know it was hard for you out there being so close to home. It's just...the idea of wearing the clothes of a person who can betray her whole family and who caused the deaths of so many people without ever batting an eye—”

  "It's okay,” he says, cutting me off. “I get it. And you don't have to apologize or worry about me. I'm fine." He says it with sincerity even though I suspect he’s full of crap. I saw the look on his face outside. He’s no closer to being okay than I am.