I wrapped my arms around myself. The biting wind seeped through my jacket, causing my bones to ache. I bowed my head, battling the elements, and crossed the street to the bus stop. I almost fell asleep standing up when the bus finally came. I climbed the steps slowly, pulling out my bus pass to show it to the driver. I stopped short, my pass slipping through my fingers, falling to the floor.
Oh God, not again.
A small, disproportionate man sat in the driver’s seat. He could not have been more than four feet tall, and barely able to reach the pedals. Long, pointed ears protruded high on his oversized head. His skin was wrinkled, thin, the color of parchment paper, and oozed with lumps, sores, and knobs. He had an elongated hooknose, and his puny, dark, beady eyes glared back into mine.
“Move to the back,” he snarled at me. I couldn’t move; my legs were locked in place. “Hey, did you hear me? Either get on or off. You’re holdin’ up the bus.”
His razor-sharp teeth gleamed, causing me to jump back, almost falling down the steps. When I looked up again, a tall, grumpy-looking human sat in the driver’s seat, his long skinny legs tapping on the pedals impatiently.
I bit my lip. This can’t be happening again.
“On or off?” the old man barked at me.
I stepped back onto the bus, pushing through my fear. The driver yanked the handle, slamming the doors shut and punched down on the gas pedal. I stumbled down the aisle and flopped down in a seat.
The hallucinations were proof that I was unstable. As the doctors had said my mind was creating its own little world so I could handle all the things happening to me. I clearly wasn’t dealing well with the possibility of being a fire-starter or someone who could manipulate and move elements with my mind!
Over the years these hallucinations had been infrequent enough for me to brush them off as something else. But something had changed. When they happened now, they were so life-like and intense it was hard to tell what was real and what wasn’t. The only thing that kept them separate and kept me grounded was that the hallucinations were always strange mythical creatures. I had no idea why my mind chose fantasy characters to see. Maybe the stories my mother used to tell me before bed were coming back to me. Maybe it was another way to feel closer to her, to produce the world she used to spend hours creating for me.
I was relieved when the bus arrived at the stop closest to Silverwood. I hurried off the bus without looking at the old man. Already late for school, I detoured from the main path, cutting through the woods. It was a shortcut that hopefully wouldn’t make me any later.
Darkness adhered to the dense canopy of trees. Mist swirled on the forest floor, clinging to the ferns and mossy rocks. Crooked limbs weaved through each other, creating intricate spider webs made of wood. Trampling through a dark, dense forest might have spooked most people or made them uncomfortable. It relaxed me.
The shortcut drove me deeper into the woods. It felt as if energy was trickling into my legs, making them itch for movement, to run. I started to jog, my backpack banging rhythmically against my back. I sailed through the forest, weaving around trees and bushes with ease. Dampness clung to my face and hair as the mist thickened under the cover of trees. All the things that had been happening to me were begging to be released. I pumped my legs faster. The pulse of the forest pounded simultaneously with my heartbeat.
Then I felt something change. It felt like a warning was being shouted at me through the drumming beat of the forest. Something was off. Wrong. Alarm nipped at my insides.
I slowed down and came to a stop. A stronger feeling of dread gripped me. I was being watched. Spinning around in a circle, I eyed the forest that surrounded me. Nervously, I swallowed, searching for the forest’s once-vibrant sounds of life. Total silence enveloped me and was only broken up by the thumping of my heart. The silence was what really unnerved me. Not a single bird chirped and not any of the other natural sounds of a forest whistled through the air. You never realize how comforting those sounds are until they’re gone. All the time I spent in the woods, I never felt uncomfortable. But now I did.
A trickle of sweat ran down my face. I didn’t know what to do. There was no obvious threat, but my gut told me something was different. This was something I had gotten from my mom. Our gut feelings were eerily right on, like a truth detector or a warning system.
I was fairly certain there were no bears or other aggressive wildlife around this area, but the sensation of being hunted rang like a bell inside my head. Panic rose up into my throat like bile, and I stumbled backwards until I pressed up against a massive boulder.
My skin tingled and blood pounded in my ears. Whatever it was, it was getting closer, edging slowly towards me. This was it. I hoped it would be an animal that attacked me. Yes, I’d rather die as a bear’s Happy Meal, than as some girl murdered by a deranged serial killer.
A branch snapped, breaking the silence. The sound came from the opposite direction where I had felt the threat. My attention flew towards the sound, searching the perimeter in front of me.
Out of nowhere, a massive figure appeared at the break of the clearing. I jumped back, squeaking out a startled yelp.
“You scared the shit out of me.” I put my hand on my chest as I caught my breath. I looked back to where Eli stood. His features were hard and cruel. Even though it was just Eli, something kept me from thinking I was entirely safe. “What are you doing out here?”
“Surveillance.”
“You mean you’re following me.”
“Well, if some girls did what they were told . . .”
“Not something I’m particularly good at.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
“Okay, besides you being an extremely creepy stalker guy—how did you know I was out here?”
Eli cocked his head, staying mute. A spine-chilling smile stretched over his lips. There was something dark and unsafe about him, and something today reminded me of the first night I saw him. He was forbidding, cold, and let’s be honest, straight out scary. What if it was him who was hunting me in the forest? He might find it amusing to play with me like that, as a cat would with a mouse. There was no denying his predatory nature. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something about him that felt more animal than man.
“Think it’s time you got to class,” Eli said.
“And once again you think I’m just going to jump at your every command.” I folded my arms. “I don’t know what kind of girls you’ve dealt with before. Maybe Samantha obeys your every order, but I don’t.”
Suddenly, he was in my face. I took several steps back. “Samantha has to.” Eli leaned down, his lips brushing across my ear. “You will eventually submit . . . and happily.”
My breath hitched. I was locked in place as he moved around me, heat blistering through my mind and body.
It had only been a few seconds when I turned around to say something, which I’m sure would have been very witty, and he was gone. I pivoted as my eyes darted in every direction. Where the hell did he go? There was no way he could’ve walked away that fast.
It also hit me—I hadn’t heard him leave.
Eighteen
The rest of the day didn’t get any better. Actually, it sucked. The thing that should have put me in a good mood was Mrs. Sanchez calling me into her office and telling me that Principal Mitchell was willing to reassess my going back to my old school at the end of the month—if I continued on the straight and narrow path. The community service would still be in play, so I would still have to come back after school on Mondays, Thursdays, and the weekends for the next several months.
I should have been thrilled at the prospect of going back to school with my friends, but the news seemed to only darken the cloud hanging over me. I felt more at home at Silverwood, but the idea that I would prefer to stay in a school for troubled students rather than going back to a normal high school with my friends kept my lips sealed.
Poor Josh tried so hard to get me out of my funk, but m
y mind wouldn’t let him. I did my best to smother any more thoughts about leaving Silverwood, the bus driver, and Eli. I dreaded going out to the O.A.R. site and Josh had to practically drag me there.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on between you two?” His chin jutted out towards Eli, clearly not a fan of his.
“Nothing.”
“Really?” Josh looked down at me. “Come on, Em, you guys act like you hate each other, but the sexual tension is so thick you could choke on it. It’s pretty obvious something is going on.”
“I promise you, nothing is going on with him,” I said adamantly.
“Good,” he replied as we walked to the site. “Because one, he has a girlfriend, and two, he is not the type of guy you should get involved with. Bikers don’t make good boyfriends.”
I didn’t bother clarifying that Samantha was more of a sex friend than a girlfriend. “You don’t have to preach to the choir here.”
“I think I do.”
I gave Josh a side glance and was about to respond further when I felt the unique thumping within me, warning me that Eli was near. Until he touched my tattoo the other day, I had never really thought about exactly where the warning was coming from. My whole body seemed to react when he got close to me so I wasn’t surprised I hadn’t noticed it ‘til today. It was slight, but I could feel my tattoo starting to warm.
“All right, today two of us will be going over with the wheelbarrow to get the compost. The rest will stay here and shovel it out into the planters,” Eli addressed the group. “Brycin, you’re with me.”
I’m sure I looked elegant as I sputtered, “Huh? Me? Why me?”
He smirked. “Because . . .”
Ah, I was being punished for this morning. He knew I had to obey him here. This was his way of seeing me “submit.” Bastard. I didn’t like it one bit. I glowered at him, fighting every instinct to tell him off.
“Come on, Brycin. The compost isn’t getting any less foul.” Eli jerked his head for me to follow him.
Josh snickered, shaking his head like this only proved his theory.
“Shut up,” I grumbled, which only made him laugh harder. I walked up to Eli who threw two shovels into the wheelbarrow.
He nodded towards it. “It’s not going to push itself.”
The more my eyes narrowed, the more his glinted with merriment. I gripped the handles and followed him despairingly, muttering obscenities the entire way.
When we got to the rotten pile of food, it took everything I had not to gag. Eli pulled the shovels out, handing one to me, and without a word, started scooping the foul-smelling compost into the cart. Reluctantly, I started doing the same. I found myself once again watching Eli. His sculpted arms flexed, and his broad shoulders strained his t-shirt as he burrowed his shovel deep into the dirt. There was no way that I could deny it. I was attracted to him. Drawn to him. I shook my head. Shallow, Em? He was hot, but I knew nothing about him. I didn’t even know how old he was. In some ways he seemed ageless.
“Stop staring at me, Brycin.”
I quickly looked away, embarrassed. Wait a minute, his back was to me. How did he know I was looking at him?
“Ummm . . . can I ask you something?”
“I don’t know, can you?”
I sighed. “Can’t you ever answer anything straight?” He turned and gave me a look that said I should ask him a question now if I was going to. “I was curious about how old you are?” I looked to the side, my eyes not able to meet his.
“Okay, wasn’t expecting that one.” He regarded me for a bit before answering. “I guess I would be considered around twenty-four or so.”
“Huh? What do you mean considered?”
“I mean I’m twenty-four,” he replied hastily, returning to shoveling.
Twenty-four. Six years older than me. “How long have you been in your motorcycle gang?”
“You sure are nosey today.” He stopped shoveling and wiped his brow. “And it’s a club, not a gang.”
“I’m sure that makes all the difference.” I snorted, and he gave me a severe look. I would not let him intimidate me. I would find out more about him, even if it frightened the crap out of me. “So, how long have you been with them?”
“All my life. It’s something I was sort of born into,” he said. “But I became a leader when we arrived here.”
“Where did you live before?”
He gave an exasperated sigh. “Let’s just say I came from a place far from here,” he replied. “Now get back to work, Brycin.”
There was so much I wanted to know about him but I didn’t dare ask. We fell back into a comfortable silence. The sounds of the shovel sinking into the earth, and lifting the compost into the wheelbarrow drew me into a soothing trance as we worked. Besides my need to hear his voice, everything seemed to be okay between us for a while. We weren’t at each other’s throats, which would have been encouraging except that we weren’t talking at that moment.
I pulled my hair up into a ponytail to get it out of my face.
Eli drove his shovel into the compost pile, a glistening sheen starting to cover his forehead. “So, your tattoo . . .”
Those three words made the world halt around me. He was bringing up the exact subject I thought he would do everything in his power to avoid, denying that it every happened.
“Yeah, what about it?”
“What is it?”
“It’s just some symbols I sketched. It represents someone I love.” I avoided talking about my mom. Every time I did it felt like I was being stabbed in the heart again, so I turned the question back on him. “How big is the one on your arm?” I pointed to his shoulder.
“It’s big. It continues on to my back and side and goes down to my thigh.” He pulled up his sleeve, showing me a bit of his tattoo—inked lines wrapped around his biceps, slinking up towards his shoulder. From what I could see, it definitely looked like the same one I saw on his torso. My pulse raced. My fingers longed to reach out and touch his tattoo, to slide my hand up underneath his sleeve, and trace the lines until they reached his back—or pull up his shirt and let my fingers trickle down his abs. I gripped my fingers to stop them from acting on impulse. Focus, Em!
“Does it mean anything?” I finally asked.
His tone and face were serious. “It’s my gang tattoo.”
“Right.” I smirked, getting his jab.
“If you have a tattoo in this town, it’s assumed you’re in a tough biker gang. But let me give you a little advice, it helps if you do have a bike.”
“I got a ten-speed. Does that count?”
“You are so badass.”
“Hey, when I ring the bell, you should see them clear out of the way.”
Our eyes connected. Heat steamrolled my veins, sending fire through me as something else traversed between us.
***
We worked together in harmony for the next two hours, going back and forth between the compost pile and the O.A.R. site, loading and dumping the fertilizer. We were both sweaty, and I’m sure smelly. I was amazed at how comfortable I felt next to him, and, strangely, the closer he was, the better I felt.
After school, Eli and I headed to the ropes course site. We didn’t have to deal with kids during the week. On Mondays and Thursdays for the next two weeks, as a part of our community service hours, we had to set up the obstacle course and the paintball area for the summer schedule.
In the storage unit there were old tires, different types of ropes, a balance beam, and other items used for the obstacle course. I liked that Eli didn’t think I couldn’t handle some of the heavier stuff just because I was a girl. He treated me like an equal, even though I was sweating by the time we got to the climbing wall.
We were chaining some tires together when Eli stopped. His eyes darted around the forest as he sniffed the air. I should have found that peculiar, but the uneasiness I felt about his abrupt change in demeanor made any other concerns trivial.
I searched the area
, looking for whatever Eli was sensing. “What’s wrong? Do you hear something? Is something out there?”
“Shhh,” he responded, not even looking at me. He crept towards the woods.
“Eli?”
He ignored me, too focused on the forest in front of him. He disappeared into the throng of overgrown brush.
I trotted up to the brush and looked around; Eli was still nowhere in sight. “Eli?” Nerves danced in my stomach. Warily, I stepped deeper into the thick of the forest. “Eli?” I repeated a little louder. I heard a strange, low growl and the snap of splintering wood. Then silence.
I wasn’t sure how long Eli had been away. Fear prickled my skin. My breath became short, catching in my throat, and almost stopped when a large, dark mass stepped out from the bushes. I screamed and turned to run. A large, strong hand grabbed my arm, pulling me back.
“It’s just me.” Eli’s deep voice immediately calmed my jumping heart.
“Damn it! You scared the hell out of me—again.” I leaned into him, trying to catch my breath. “You seriously need to stop doing that. I thought you were some psychotic murderer!”
“I might be,” he said, moving past me. I felt the chilliness of his mood. The easy-going feeling from earlier was gone.
“Where did you go?”
“I had to go to the bathroom. I’m sorry. Did you want to watch?” I knew he was deflecting, but something about his mood kept me from pursuing it.
I turned to follow then stopped short. The back of his t-shirt hung in torn, shredded pieces. “What the hell happened to your shirt?”
He halted, twisting his neck to look over his shoulder at the ragged cloth. An odd look flickered across his face. “Oh, I must have snagged it on a branch.”
Darkness Of Light (Darkness #1) Page 13
