The Ties That Bind (An Ariel Kimber Novel Book 4)

by Mary Martel

  "I don't like this," I said as he took another step forward, and I heard the click of his flashlight as he turned it on.

  The light flared bright as he aimed it directly in front of us. He took a step forward, and as he had my hand in his and gave another tug, I was forced to go with him, since I wasn't willing to wrestle my hand free of his.

  The trail was just suddenly there in front of us when it hadn't been moments before. The trail was wide enough for the both of us to continue to be side by side and walk down it, and that was the only reason I didn't turn around and head back to the house. That, and I would probably seriously freak myself out if I had to walk all the way around to the front of the house all by my lonesome, while Ty stayed out here and further explored the dark trail.

  "I don't like it, either," he admitted quietly. "But you were right earlier in thinking there was something not right with Binx's behavior."

  He continued talking to me as he, or we, walked down the dark trail. I didn't click on my flashlight because I had his to light the way, and would wait until I absolutely needed to turn mine on. At the moment it seemed like overkill, and wasn't necessary.

  "And that stuff that's happening while you're sleeping isn't right either. Something is going on, and we need to get to the bottom of it. And we need to find that cat because if he could sense all the way from Dash's room that you were in need of help in your room, then it's good to have him around. And, if he was acting the same way at the front door that he'd been acting the night before, then there must have been something out here that he was trying to get to. But now that I know there's something or someone trying to bypass my spells, I think we all should be more cautious and just a little worried about the unfamiliar. This business with the cat is really bothering me."

  From inside my hoodie pocket my phone vibrated and pinged, letting me know I'd received a text message, and I squeezed Ty's hand tightly and jumped. The flashlight I'd pulled out of my pocket and held in my hand even though I hadn't turned it on fell free from my grasp and dropped. It hit the dirt with a clatter, barely missing my foot when it landed.

  "Shit," I hissed.

  Tyson burst out laughing as he let go of my hand.

  I stared down at the unlit flashlight as it rolled around at my feet and listened to the sound of Ty's deep, masculine laughter. It sounded louder out here than I imagined it would have were we inside.

  "I heard that," he said when he stopped laughing at me. "You are really growing into that potty mouth. The twins are convinced you only swear when you're really upset about something, but I think you do it all the time when you're all by yourself and there's no one else around to hear you. I'd be willing to bet you swear in your head more than the rest of us do out loud."

  Hardy freaking har.

  I couldn't argue with him because he wasn't wrong. Tyson knew me just a little too well, it would seem. But, I thought it was cute that my Salt and Pepper twins defended my honor in such a way. They were the sweetest.

  I bent down and retrieved the flashlight from the dirt floor of the trail and stood up straight again. I stuffed the flashlight back into my hoodie pocket, and took the cellphone out of the other one.

  I tapped my fingertip against the screen and my phone brightened, coming to life for me. I swiped my finger across the screen and a new message alert was lit up bright and waiting for me.

  It was from Damien of all people. He never messaged me.

  "Do you hear that?" Tyson whispered.

  My head snapped up and the phone almost kissed the dirt the way the flashlight had.

  "Hear what?" I breathed out in a rush. "What's out here?"

  Tyson's head tilted to the side as he listened. His eyes narrowed, and he slowly turned, turning back towards the way we had come. Not wanting to be left out, I turned with him. The backyard was less than fifteen feet away from where we stood, and the cottage was lit up bright in the background like a beacon calling us home.

  "What do you hear?" I whispered urgently.

  "Car," he whispered back. "Coming down the road. It's probably just Dash coming home, or it could be any of the other guys. We should head back to the house and see who it is before we wander off. If it's one of them and they can't find us, then they will freak. If it's someone else, then we will want to know who, because this is a dead-end road that only leads to the cottage and no one else should be driving down it. We'll want to know if it's someone who isn't one of us, too."

  I couldn't help but wonder if maybe Tyson wasn't just a little bit afraid of the dark wilderness as well. I suspected he was, and that was partially why he was so ready to turn tail and head back to the house.

  Ty started walking back the way we'd come from and I followed slowly behind him. I was going slowly because I had my phone held up in front of my face so I could see it.

  I clicked on the message icon as I trailed behind Tyson.

  It opened up and I clicked on Damien's name. I didn't think he'd ever texted me before, at least not that I could remember.

  My head came up when a car door slammed shut in front of the house. Then another. Footsteps crunching on the gravel echoed and I stopped walking. Tyson was already halfway across the backyard, and I was paused mid-step by an orange Adirondack chair. I didn't want to go up front until I knew who was out there. There were certain people like, say, the entire Council, that I had no desire to see any time soon.

  Tyson stopped when he realized I wasn't following him. He rushed back to my side.

  "What the hell are you doing?" He whispered frantically. I didn't blame him, I would have been questioning me too. "I thought you wouldn't want to be left back here all by yourself."

  He had that right, but...

  "What if it's not Dash or the guys?" I whispered back just as frantically. "I don't want to walk around the corner and walk up to someone like Chucky."

  As soon as the name left my mouth I knew I shouldn't have said it. Tyson flinched as if I had struck him, and his eyes took on the bug-eyed look again. It didn't last long. His mouth flattened into an angry line, and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

  "Why would you be worried about Chucky being here?" He growled.

  Oh boy.

  It would seem Tyson had been so wrapped up in his own drama that he had missed what had been going on with the rest of us and he didn't know about Chuck's visit to the big house. I wondered why Quint hadn't told him about it. I mean, they lived together, and I would have thought with the way Quint had reacted to it that it had been a big enough deal that he would have wanted to tell everyone about it so they could be ready just in case Adrian or some other A-hole showed up with Chuck in tow.

  "Uhh," I mumbled, not wanting to be the one who broke it to him. "Maybe you should go and see who's out there so we can get back to what's important, looking for the cat."

  He shook his head as he reached out and grabbed me from behind the neck. He gave a gentle tug, and I suddenly found myself leaning forward, toward him. He leaned in and kissed me on the forehead.

  "You're going to tell me all about it when I get back from checking to see who's out front," he whispered, and his lips brushed softly against my skin with every word.

  With that, he stepped away from me, leaving me alone in the dark backyard and sprinted away from me.

  I watched his retreating back as he got further and further away from me until he rounded the house and was suddenly out of sight.

  I looked down at the now dark screen on my cell phone, and couldn't help but wonder just what in the hell was the matter with me. Why hadn't I gone with him? Why was I now standing out here by myself alone in Dash's dark backyard? That was exactly what I had been looking to avoid, and here I was.

  Could things get any weirder?

  The answer was yes, most likely, they could.

  Chapter Nine

  The arm of the orange chair I had parked my butt down on was cold, and it easily seeped in through my leggings and had me shivering. It was colder out than I had t
hought, my anxiety over being out here in the dark and looking for Binx had made it possible for me to ignore the cold.

  I huddled into my hoodie as I reread the text message on my phone.

  Damien: Do you have plans for tomorrow night?

  I read it one more time just to be sure I had read it correctly the first three times I'd read it. Damien wanted to know if I had plans for tomorrow night? Since when? He'd never cared about what I was doing or if I had plans before, why was he asking now? And why in the hell was I so suspicious about everything?

  I sighed heavily and sent back a quick message.

  Ariel: None that I am aware of. Why?

  It wasn't until after I hit send that I thought about just how rude that would have sounded to him. It was too late now, I'd apologize if he brought it up, and make sure I tried to be a little nicer in the next one.

  He didn't make me apologize for being rude. I should have known, this was Damien. If it were Quinton, then I would have had to apologize or been prepared to argue with him. Damien didn't know me well enough yet to feel comfortable giving me a hard time and, besides, he was still trying to make up for his own rude comments I'd once overheard him say, and because of it I didn't think he'd want to call me out for being rude.

  Damien: I wanted to know if you'd go somewhere and do something with me tomorrow night. But only if you're not busy.

  I was never busy lately, unless I was attending my meetings with Adrian, and I had a feeling those wouldn't be picking back up any time soon. This left me with all the free time in the world. Something that some people might have enjoyed, because it was an incredible amount of freedom. I had even once enjoyed it, not having to get up in the morning to go to school and being able to do as I pleased. I no longer enjoyed it. I missed having a schedule and things to do to fill up my days. Just last week Quinton and I had gone to the school and filled out the necessary paperwork for me to be able to take the GED, and I was now signed up to take it in two weeks. They wouldn't let me take it right then because they were convinced everyone had to take a stupid study packet home with them to actually study or we would all fail. Perhaps they had been right, but I hadn't bothered to look at the damn thing once since I'd brought it home with me.

  I texted Damien back, but I made sure to leave out the fact I had nothing going for me during the day or the night so I was free for business any time. I didn't think that would have painted me in a positive light, and I wanted Damien to think well of me. I hadn't realized until that moment just how much I wanted Damien to like me. If you had asked me a month ago I would have told you I could have cared less whether he liked me or not. But something had softened him in my eyes and changed the entire way I had looked at him. Once, I might have called him a dick, but now I wouldn't say it even if he was capable of being and acting like one. Laying on my bed, side by side with him, and listening to him as he opened up to me for the first time while he talked about watching his mother cook had shown me a vulnerable almost fragility to him that I didn't think most people got to see.

  I had also learned that he rambled when he was nervous, and somehow, someway, I had made him nervous. Once I had actually spent some time with just him, it had made me like him just a little bit, and I was almost eager to spend more time with him so I could get to know him more.

  Ariel: No plans. What did you have in mind?

  I seriously hoped him asking me if I was free meant he wanted to spend time with me and not because it was expected of him. If he wanted to know if I was free so I could stop on by and wash his laundry, we were both going to be seriously disappointed. Him because I often times bleached things that weren't white, and probably didn't need bleach, and I was always unaware of it until after the fact when everything was covered in white splotches. It had always made me happy that Vivian had gotten my clothes from the thrift stores. I would have felt a whole lot worse if I were ruining things that had cost a fortune. As for me? I would have been disappointed, because I genuinely wanted to get to know him better and spend more time with him. And I didn't want to spend that time doing laundry with him or for him.

  In my hands the phone vibrated, and I eagerly read the text. I was happy there was no one around to see just how eager I was, it would have embarrassed me.

  Damien: I want it to be a surprise if that's cool with you.

  Huh. Now that piqued my curiosity.

  Now that I wasn't with Vivian the fake mother, I was learning new things about myself every day, and one of the things I had learned about myself recently was that I didn't enjoy waiting for information. I was more into instant gratification. But I wasn't willing to tell Damien to spill the beans simply because I had no patience and wanted him to give me what I wanted exactly when I wanted it.

  All my years with Vivian had taught me that men, as a whole, weren't into women who demanded things from them and expected them to bend to their every need. I knew that it probably had a whole lot to do with the men Vivian had hung around with, but that was all I had to go by. Marcus had been in a breed all his own, and I didn't think he counted in the long run. Unfortunately for the rest of the female population, Marcus Cole wasn't the norm when it came to men, or, at least that had been my experience.

  I texted back what amounted to a lie, even though I was totally into going wherever with him whenever he wanted me to. I just didn't enjoy surprises. So, sue me.

  Ariel: What time were you thinking?

  I left it at that even though I had a whole slew of other questions to ask him. Where are we going was out, and that seemed like the most important one at the moment.

  I thought about asking what I should wear, but this was Damien, and that made that particular question dangerous for my sanity. I didn't ask, because it meant I would still be here hours later while he went over every single thing he'd bought for me until he got to what he thought was a good outfit for me to wear on whatever adventure he had decided we were going on tomorrow night.

  My phone vibrated again.

  Damien: Pick you up around 8?

  It would be dark out by the time eight rolled around, and darkness meant colder weather. I didn't ask any of the five hundred questions his response stirred in me.

  Instead, I sent a simple text that said one word.

  Ariel: Sure.

  But, in reality, I wasn't so sure.

  At least he didn't give me a whole lot of time to overthink it.

  Damien: We will be outside, so please be sure to wear warm clothes. If you want, I can come over early and help you pick out something to wear?

  Yeah, I so did not need help picking out what clothes I needed to wear. That was ridiculous. I knew how to dress for colder, nighttime weather. I didn't need assistance. No matter that Damien had actually bought almost my entire wardrobe for me; I could pick out my own clothes, thank you very much. They usually even matched, too. Goody for me.

  Ariel: No, that's okay. Unless you really want to?

  Shit.

  I silently cursed myself.

  Fuck.

  I should not have invited him to come and pick out my clothes. Never, ever should I have done that.

  I groaned as my phone vibrated once again.

  I had to check the text, I couldn't help myself.

  Damien: Would love to! That sounds great! I will be over tomorrow at 7, then.

  "Fuck my life," I muttered in horror as I lowered the phone to my lap. I was not looking forward to an hour of Damien looking through every single thing I had in an attempt to find the perfect outfit for me, when he could have simply let me know what to wear right from the beginning, and I would have for sure put it on without hesitation in hopes of avoiding such a situation as this one.

  I stuffed the phone back into the safety of my hoodie pocket. It was also a way to get the stupid thing out of my sight because just looking at it made me feel disgusted with myself. In being nice to Damien I had subjected myself to an hour of misery. Maybe if I just dressed up in the nicest clothes that I could find th
at were warm as well he might not feel the need to redress me, and we'd be able to hang out at Dash's for an hour before going wherever.

  The phone vibrated from its place inside my hoodie pocket. I didn't take it out to look at. I was done with text messages for the day. Heck, I was done with the stupid phone as a whole.

  I knew what I was doing, I was being annoyed so I wouldn't have to be stressed out or nervous about being alone with Damien tomorrow night and going off to some unknown place with him. I was nervous enough just being around him when we were in a room full of other people, I didn't even want to think about how I would be when it was just the two of us. I was bound to embarrass myself thoroughly before the night came to an end, and then maybe he wouldn't want anything to do with me afterwards.

  The possibilities of my awkwardness were endless and extreme.

  "Shit," I muttered.

  Maybe I should text him back and tell him something came up and I wouldn't be able to make it. I couldn't do it though, and probably only because he knew where I lived, and if I didn't actually go out and do something different one of the other guys would more than likely tell on me to him. There were too many of them for me to keep track of their comings and goings on the daily, but there was only one of me, and it was a whole lot easier for them to keep track of me than it was for me to keep track of them. I suspected Dash reported my comings and goings to Quinton via text message, but I had no actual proof. Perhaps it was simply me being paranoid, but I didn't think so. Quinton used to call and text me constantly asking me where I was or where I was going or who I was with, you know, the twenty questions from your handler. One day, out of the blue, he just stopped. Stopped texting me to harass me, stopped calling to check in with me. Of course, I wondered why that was. I didn't even bother asking Dash about it, I just knew it was him giving up the goods to Quint. I didn't even mind, because it meant I got Quinton off my back, and that worked just fine for me. I would never invade Dash space or his phone to find out, he could tell Quinton whatever he wanted to.