Defy Fate: Fated Duet: Book One

by Davies, Abigail

  I shot off a text to her and followed it up ten minutes later with a call, but it went unanswered. This wasn’t the first time she’d been late, but if she didn’t arrive within the next thirty minutes, I’d start walking.

  Deciding to give my legs a rest, I plopped down on one of the top concrete steps and refreshed my cell constantly in case I’d missed a message. She’d worked the late shift last night, and Sal gave me a ride to school this morning, so it could only mean she’d worked the early shift today.

  Mom and Sal were expanding the business and opening up a new diner, which meant they were gone more and more. If only I could pass my driving test. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried, because I had, I just…couldn’t get it right. The control a car gave me scared the life out of me, and as soon as I sat behind the wheel, I froze. Nothing I did could stop it, so I’d decided for the rest of my life, I’d rely on rides and public transportation.

  “Aria?”

  I closed my eyes, wishing I hadn’t heard his voice, but I couldn’t deny it. His footsteps were coming closer, so I opened my eyes back up and turned my head to look at him, trying my hardest to paste a smile on my face. “Hey.”

  “What are you doing?” He moved down the steps so that, when he sat, his face was the same height as mine.

  “Waiting for my ride.”

  He tilted his head to the side and looked around at the now nearly empty lot save for a couple of teachers’ cars. It was Friday, which meant most of the teachers didn’t stay late. They were as eager as the students to get home and start their weekends.

  “Jan?” Cade asked, and I nodded in reply. He stared at me, blinking several times, and then stepped back. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

  “What?” I shook my head in refusal. “No, I’m good. I’ll wait here—”

  “Don’t be stupid.” He rolled his eyes, looking more like the sixteen-year-old I remembered than the mid-twenties man standing in front of me. “I’m heading that way anyway.”

  “You…are?”

  “Yep.” He puffed out his chest. “You’re now looking at the proud owner of a three-bedroom home over on Wilmont.”

  “Wilmot.” I choked out a laugh as I stood, my body making the decision for me. “As in, the street two blocks away from my apartment?”

  “The one and only.” He held his arms out. “I’m gonna be your neighbor.”

  “Not sure you have the right definition of neighbor,” I quipped as I met him at the bottom of the steps. “But sure, we’ll go with that.”

  “You’re too smart for your own good.”

  “Whatever you say, sir.”

  Cade’s face screwed up as he stopped next to a sleek black car so shiny I could see my face reflected back at me in the bodywork. “That sounds downright disgusting coming from your mouth.”

  I fluttered my lashes and clasped my hands together, doing my best impression of the girls who had surrounded him on the field. “You don’t like it, sir?”

  “Ew.” Cade shook his head as if to erase the words I’d spoken from his mind. He pointed at me from the opposite side of the car in warning. “Stop it.”

  “Or what?” I asked, pulling the door open when the lights flashed. “You gonna give me detention?”

  Cade’s nostrils flared, but the glint in his eyes told me he was playing. “Maybe I will, Miss Aria.”

  I pushed inside the car and tried to hold in my laughter. “You know that’s not my last name, right?”

  He turned the engine on and winked at me. “I know, but I kinda like the way it sounds.”

  I clicked my fingers and stared out the windshield as he pulled out of the parking spot. “Gotcha, kinda like how I call you sir.”

  “Exactly. Wait. No. Stop calling me that.”

  I grinned, so wide it actually hurt. “Okay, sir.”

  “Dammit, Aria. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  * * *

  CADE

  I stared at the front of my new house. Mine. I owned an actual house. I wasn’t sure this day was ever going to come, but now it was here, and it meant I was a real adult. The three-bedroom house was more than I needed for just me, but I couldn’t turn it down at the price.

  It was a fixer-upper. The siding needed to be replaced, the wood on the small porch needed sanding and varnishing, and the inside needed to be ripped out and started again. Between Dad and me, we’d already stripped out the kitchen and re-plastered all the walls. It was a blank canvas now, and today, the new kitchen was being installed by professionals, and the walls were being painted by Dad, Lola, Belle, Asher, and me.

  “Did you know there are three bedrooms?” Belle asked, sidling up next to me as I watched men carry cabinets into the house.

  “There is?” I raised a brow, acting like I had no idea, and looked down at her not-so-innocent face.

  “Yep.” She pushed her flowing light-brown hair behind her ears with the palms of her hands.

  “Hmmm.” I nodded but said nothing else. I knew what she was going to say. The same thing she had since she found out I was moving back home.

  Belle and I had always been close. There was a time I hated my dad for being with Lola. Hated that he was with a woman closer to my age than his. But it hadn’t taken long for me to understand that what they had was different from what he'd had with my mom. It was so different: night and day.

  As soon as Belle had come into this world, I knew I’d love her more than anything else. I hated that I had to move away to college when she was a toddler. At first, I’d come home on weekends, but by my senior year, my workload was so insane I only managed one out of every six.

  I hated it. And I knew she hated it.

  So as soon as I told her I was moving back home, she’d squealed and told me all about the plans for the room she would have at my house. And now I was guessing she’d already chosen which one she would claim as hers.

  “I like the one with the view of the backyard,” Belle continued, not unfazed by me being non-committal.

  “Nope.” I shook my head and held my hand out to her. Her small palm pressed against my large one, and then we walked up the short path lined with grass on one side and the driveway to the garage on the other. “That’s my room.”

  She huffed. “Figures you’d take the one with its own bathroom.”

  “What can I say?” I shrugged and waved my arm at her when we got to the front door. “It’s my house. I get to choose first.”

  “Fine.” She placed her hand on her hip. “Then I want the second biggest one.”

  I held my hand out for her to shake and tried to keep my grin at bay. “Deal.”

  She shook my hand, her gaze not moving from mine. “No take-backs.” With that, she let go, spun around, and ran down the hallway and toward the kitchen, shouting, “I’ve got my room picked out!”

  I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. There was no stopping Belle. She always knew what she wanted, and got exactly that one hundred percent of the time. She was a force to be reckoned with.

  “You need to sign for this,” a gruff voice said from behind me.

  I turned around, coming face-to-face with one of the men who had carried in the supplies for the kitchen. It was more expensive than I’d anticipated to get exactly what I wanted, but thanks to the payout I’d received, I was able to afford it.

  I didn’t want to think about why I’d been given a payout. I didn’t want to think about what I would have preferred instead of the money. I didn’t want to go back to that night, not right now, not when I was holding a pen in my shaky hand about to sign the form to confirm they’d delivered the right things.

  Once I’d scribbled my name, I handed the form back to him and then headed into the kitchen. Dad was already checking what they’d delivered as he spoke to one of the guys.

  “Should have it all done by Tuesday. Water needs to be turned off until then.”

  Dad nodded and pushed his hand through his slig
htly graying hair. It had only appeared over the last couple of months, a few strands around his temple, but I thought it suited him.

  “Sounds good to me,” I said, and stepped forward, my attention focused on Dad and his dark-brown eyes. “I can get the bathroom stripped out in the meantime while the walls dry.”

  “Whatever you want, son.” He stepped toward me, his face nearly level with mine. There was a time when he’d towered over me, but I’d soon caught up, and I was now an inch taller than him. “The guys and I will help any way we can.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I smiled and gazed around the room. It was an empty shell right now, but I was hoping it would be all finished by the end of the month, and I could actually move in. Time couldn’t go by fast enough.

  “Cade!” Lola shouted from somewhere in the house. “Get your butt up here!”

  Lola rarely shouted, but when she did, you knew you were in trouble. Dad and I both hesitated, neither of us wanting to be in the firing line.

  “You first,” Dad said, holding his arm out.

  “Nu-uh”—I shook my head—“she’s your wife. You first.”

  “Brody! I know you’re down there too!”

  “Shit,” Dad cursed. He stared at me for a beat and then moved forward.

  I followed him out of the kitchen and down the hallway toward the front door. The stairs sat opposite the door, right in the middle of the house. I loved the layout we’d created. From above, it almost looked like a lowercase n. The living room was to the left, the dining room to the right, and the kitchen was at the back, connecting it all. The rooms flowed into each other, exactly how I’d wanted it.

  Upstairs was a different story. You were immediately greeted with the smallest bedroom, and next to that a bathroom. If you veered off to the left, you’d head into the master bedroom that looked out onto the backyard, but if you headed to the right, you’d get to what was now Belle’s bedroom.

  “Darlin’,” Dad greeted. “What’s with the shouting?”

  Lola had her hand on one side of her hips and Asher on the other as she stood in the middle of the empty room. Her dark-brown hair rolled down her back in waves and whooshed to the side as she turned and pointed at the wall. “Look at what your daughter has done.”

  We all turned to face the wall that had Belle’s Room written in big, black letters. A chuckle was working its way up my throat, and I had to do everything I could to keep it down.

  “What?” Belle asked. “It’s the truth.”

  “She’s right,” I said, stepping toward Belle. “I said she could have this room.”

  “That doesn’t mean she can draw on the walls!” Lola groaned and let a squirming Asher down. He ran right to me, and I picked him up and threw him in the air. He clutched me around the neck, laughing.

  “I want a room,” he told me, his chocolate-brown eyes focused on me.

  “You can share Belle’s,” I whispered, careful not to talk to loudly, but Belle heard me loud and clear.

  “Nu-uh.” She shook her head back and forth, her hair whipping her in the face. “This is my room.”

  “It’s a huge room,” I told her with a raised brow. “We can split it in half and decorate it however you want.”

  Belle looked away and narrowed her eyes around the room. “Can I paint it black?”

  “Black?” Lola screeched. “Jes—”

  “If you want.” I shrugged and tickled Asher’s stomach. “And you, big man?”

  “Me big man.”

  “Yep.” I nodded and ran my hand over his dark-brown hair. He looked so much like our dad already, and he was only four years old.

  “Gween.” He pointed at a wall. “I want gween gwass.”

  “You got it.”

  “I just can’t even with you three,” Lola said, her tone that of someone who was half fed up but she couldn’t mask the smile building on her face.

  “Me?” Dad asked, pointing at his chest.

  “No.” Lola looked up at him. “Those terrors.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder at us. “But don’t even get me started on you, Brody Easton.”

  “Ohhhh, Dad’s in trouble,” Belle whispered, or at least tried to. With the room empty, her voice echoed off the walls.

  Dad’s brows lifted. “What did I do?”

  “If you’re asking that, then I’m not even going to bother telling you.” She puffed out a breath. “I’m going to walk around to Jan and Aria’s, see what they’re getting up to and get away”—she waved her hand in the air—“from here.”

  “Aria?” Belle perked up. “I want to see Aria.”

  “Me too!” Asher screamed down my ear and squirmed to get down. The kid had no sense of danger and tried to leap from my arms.

  “Of course you do,” Lola said and held her hand out to Asher. “Come on, if you’re good, I’ll take you to get ice cream.”

  They both cheered as they exited, their chatter following them as they left the house. My new house was only a couple of blocks from Aria’s apartment complex, so it would only take them a few minutes to get there.

  I turned to look at Dad. “What did you forget?”

  Dad grinned and stood next to me, staring at the graffiti on the wall. “Nothing. She just thinks I forgot it’s our anniversary.” He chuckled. “I’m taking her out for the night. Which reminds me, can you watch Belle and Asher?”

  “Sure.”

  “If I only ever teach you one thing, let it be this, son.” Dad gripped my shoulder, his features pulled into a serious expression. “Never forget birthdays or anniversaries.”

  “That’s all you want me to know?”

  “Yep. It’ll save your life.”

  Chapter Four

  ARIA

  Wednesdays were family days. No matter what shift Mom was working, we always had a family meal. It had started out when I was six, and eleven years later, we continued the same tradition. The only difference now was that Sal joined us.

  Today they were both working the late shift, which meant family dinner was at the diner. I didn’t mind because it saved me trying to eat Mom’s god-awful cooking. She tried to make the simplest of dishes but always failed. It didn’t mean she gave up, though. I liked to think I got that kind of determination from my mom.

  I’d barely sat down when my favorite flavor shake—banana—was placed in front of me from Mom. “How was school?” she asked, standing at the edge of the table. There were six sets of tables that fit four people around each, and when they had a party in here, all the tables were pushed together to create one giant one.

  “School is school,” I said with a shrug and reached for the straw in the shake. The banana creaminess exploded on my tongue, eliciting a groan from me. I took my fill of shake then leaned against the back of the black booth. “I have some homework to do.”

  Mom ran her hand through her dark-red hair, a look of concern on her face that vanished the moment Sal said, “What are we eating tonight? I’m starved.”

  Mom chuckled, but the pitch was off, her attention still zoned in on me. I hated when she stared at me like that. Like I was a bomb about to explode. I wasn’t sure if she realized she made things a thousand times worse when she had that look in her eyes because all it did was make me feel even more guilty for who I was. For what I did. For who I’d allowed myself to become. She didn’t understand what it was like being me, and I didn’t need her to. I just needed her to not look at me like I was a stranger.

  I hated being in my own skin sometimes, and right now, I itched for the relief I desperately needed—relief I’d been relying on more and more lately. Relief no one knew about. It wouldn’t be long until I was out of the diner and on my way home, then I could give in to my cravings and allow myself a few seconds of freedom.

  I stared at the giant clock on the wall and wished for the next couple of hours to fly by. All I needed to do was make small talk—give Mom the words she needed to hear so she could tell herself everything was perfect—and eat my food.

 
“I’ll take the chicken and fries,” I told Sal as I reached for my shake again. If I was drinking, I couldn’t talk at the same time.

  Mom told him what she wanted, and as he turned to place the order, the door flung open, and a head of light-brown hair whizzed into the diner, shouting, “Uncle Sal! Shake me!”

  I snorted, which made my own shake shoot up the back of my throat and burn the back of my nose. My eyes watered and I coughed to try and get rid of the sensation, but it was no use, and by the time Belle was at our table, tears were streaming down my face.

  “Aria? What’s wrong?” Mom patted me on the back, probably thinking she was helping, but it really wasn’t.

  “Was someone mean to you?” Belle asked, her face now full of concern. For an eight-year-old, she sure acted like a mother hen sometimes.

  Closing my eyes, I tried to sniff to stop the burning, not paying attention to anything around me until I opened my eyes back up and groaned. Belle wasn’t on her own, nope, I couldn’t have asked for small victories. She was flanked by Lola, Asher, and Uncle Brody, and of course, Cade.

  “Aria is crying,” Belle pointed out like it wasn’t already obvious. Asher pulled himself up on the chair next to me, his small hand patting my arm.

  “What’s wrong?” Lola asked.

  I croaked, “No—”

  “I think someone was mean to her like Henry was to me,” Belle supplied, planting her hands on her hips from the opposite side of the table.

  “What?” Uncle Brody frowned. “That right, Jan?”

  Mom choked on a laugh. “No, she was just—”

  “Cade?” Uncle Brody didn’t let Mom finish. “You knew someone was picking on Aria?”

  “What?” Cade frowned. “I—”

  “You’re a teacher at that goddamn school, which means you look out for family. Aria is family.”

  I screwed up my nose, wishing I could become invisible and float away from this situation. The men in my life were anything but not protective. They went to bat for you even when you didn’t need them to.