Golden: A Paranormal Romance

by Ellis Marie

  Cole’s shove and low laughter forces him to move away from us, the two of them arguing as Cole attempts to cover Trent who slaps his hands away with grunts of ‘that’s too close, man’ and ‘I didn’t touch anything’.

  I clear my throat and stand up quickly, trying not to stumble as my jelly-like legs catch me. Scarlette makes a noise like a strangled cat as I spin to her, my obvious blushing face a dead giveaway for how I’m feeling. She quickly grabs Lee, who is standing with his mouth hanging open in pure shock.

  So I’m not the only one gobsmacked by what just happened.

  “Come on.” She shoves him with urgency. “Let’s go check that everything’s fine at the house.”

  She doesn’t miss my grateful smile and squeezes my hand in return, unspoken words of support and a promise to talk later embedded in the curves of her lips. They stumble away with hushed voices as Lee continues to look back at me, disbelief oozing from him even with Scarlette’s attempts to cover it up.

  As he moves out of earshot, I don’t miss the glare that he shoots to the person standing next to me. I’m harshly reminded of everything that’s happened.

  Suddenly, the beach seems very big, and I feel very small.

  “How did you . . .” Cam’s voice trails off unsurely, his voice sounding shaky. “Why did he . . .”

  When I finally look at him, I see the real confusion on his features. The way his brows are almost touching in the middle and his eyes are looking far away like his memories are battling with each other, painfully. His attention is so focused on the things that he doesn’t understand that he’s completely oblivious to my almost shattering disappointment.

  Something breaks his train of thought. He’s looking at me now, the internal struggle plain on his face.

  “Elle, how did—”

  “You need to leave,” I state, my tongue heavy but the words strong. “Right now, before you say anything else that could cause an argument.”

  Just because I saved his life, it doesn’t mean that I’m not furious with him over how he treated Trent. Did he expect me to just forget how viciously he’d turned on the pack?

  “Another argument?” he guffaws, arms flailing. “Did you see him? That’s not normal, that’s not—”

  “Any of your business,” I finish flatly, catching him off guard.

  It’s only now that he takes in my folded arms and strained jaw, my hurt gleaming in my eyes like angry seas and waves of turmoil threatening to break me.

  “Elle,” he says pleadingly, reaching for me, but I knock his hand away before it can even get close, taking it one step further by actually moving back from him.

  “Leave,” I repeat. “Now.”

  I don’t know if it’s the finality of my tone or a look in my eye that stops him from continuing to try but, to my relief, he does. He holds in whatever words he’s so ready to spill and grits them between his teeth, his eyes blazing.

  “Fine,” he half spits as we hear the car doors shut. “But I meant everything that I said. You’ll see.”

  He turns and takes off down the beach before I can so much as get a word in, leaving me to stand with a deep feeling of confusion and anger rocking against my heart. His retreating figure heads to the woods on the other side of the beach swiftly, charging into the darkness without even looking back.

  There’s a part of me that wants to reach out to him, to run after my best friend of so many years with apologies and a willingness to listen to his thoughts on this new life that I’ve begun because I want to believe that he has to have justified reasons to be so against it.

  But I can’t.

  Whether it’s the sound of Trent’s laughter as he shouts goodbye to Cole or the way my stomach flips when he looks over at me with a timid but glowing smile, I just can’t. There’s this nibbling thought that I keep pushing down, even as he stops in front of me and runs a hand through his unkempt hair, I try to ignore it.

  “So,” he whistles, shoving his hands into the pockets of the shorts that he now wears. “I think we probably have a lot to talk about.”

  It’s only as the anxious expression flickers across his godlike features and my breath catches in response that I know exactly why I can’t follow Cam into the forest.

  Why I can’t believe his awful view on the man before me. Why I can’t leave him.

  “Yes,” I whisper, a warmth pooling through my entire body as I accept the thought that I’ve been trying so hard to push back, the acceptance blowing out any ideas of hesitance that I’ve been clinging on to.

  I can’t ignore it anymore.

  He has my heart.

  “Yes, I think we do.”

  We walk back to the house in silence as my mind whirls with confessions and desires, but by the time I manage to pluck up the courage to say something, we arrive at the pack house. We’re immediately bombarded by Kristie and Tom, who are having the time of their lives playing video games with the teenage boys who have taken them back.

  Kristie asks where Cameron is, and when I explain vaguely that we had an argument and that he’s gone home, she nods but her eyes quickly glance to Trent as if she’s looking for a sign of something else.

  The moment is interrupted by Tom’s squeal of excitement at winning the game and the tension breaks. Everyone seems to relax, but Kristie glues herself to my side, dragging me over to the bean bags that can fit both of us on one.

  I look back at Trent with an apologetic gaze, but he only smiles and shakes his head, his attention already being taken by Cole and whatever he’s whispering in his ear.

  “Is everything okay?” Kristie asks me, her voice barely audible but eyes wary.

  Even though I explain to her that everything is fine, she doesn’t seem to believe me. For the rest of the evening, she watches me out of the corner of one eye while pretending not to.

  Trent and Cole disappear a couple of minutes after we get back to the house, leaving us with Scarlette and the teenage boys to keep us company. We have a good night, but when the sun begins to set and Tom starts yawning, we decide to call it a night and get everyone home.

  It comes as no surprise to me, however, that as we prepare to say our goodbyes, Kristie grabs my hand and asks if she can stay the night. She’ll just borrow clothes from me or Scarlette for the next day of school and her other things are already in her car.

  I know exactly what she’s doing; she’s concerned that Trent is the same as Matt. The hypothesis that she’s come up with is most likely that Trent has hurt Cam, and I might be getting myself into something bad again. That’s why I agree and throw the red-headed girl beside us a smile when she offers to drive Tom home, allowing Kristie to stay over.

  We chat about the day as we shower and get ready to sleep, skimming over the difficult points of conversation that she seems hesitant to bring up.

  It’s only as we climb into bed and settle down that she finally turns to me and asks me the truth about what happened at the beach.

  “I told you, we argued and he left,” I explain, brushing my hair through with my fingers. “He and Trent don’t exactly get along, and he was rude.”

  “I can tell,” she mumbles. “But why don’t they like each other? Any specific reason?” Her tone is expectant like she already knows something but needs me to admit it and panic flits through me.

  She can’t know about werewolves, can she?

  “What do you mean?”

  She scoffs and rolls her eyes, collapsing onto her back as she huffs her annoyance out. “Oh come on, Elle,” she groans. “Don’t act like you don’t know. I’m not stupid.”

  How did she figure it out?

  “Look, Kristie, I didn’t know how to tell you,” I try, words tumbling over each other. “It’s weird for me, let alone trying to explain it to someone else. You have to understand that.”

  How did she pick it up? It took me weeks and that is with Cam rescuing me from my father. How has Kristie pieced it all together?

  “I get that, but I think a sim
ple ‘Trent hates Cam because he knows that he’s completely in love with me and has been for years’ would have sufficed.”

  What?

  My silence is not the response that she expects, and she looks at me with her brows furrowed, as if confused by my confusion. Quickly, I warp my face into a relieved grin and let out a light laugh, the tightness of it making my throat choke.

  Cam is in love with me?

  “Yeah, that would have been easier, wouldn’t it?”

  She shrugs and settles back into her pillow, picking up her phone to set alarms and reply to Tom who has let us know that he’s home alright.

  “I mean, I’ve always wondered how long it would take you to figure it out. It was obvious as soon as I met you guys that he was infatuated with you. He just never had the balls to say anything.”

  Trent’s vicious words from earlier haunt my memories as she speaks, my mind finally clicking into place as the pieces of information slot together perfectly.

  You had to wait for her to not be in love with someone else.

  Your selfish desires.

  It’s like a punch to the gut as I picture his caring smile and the years of friendship that we have. The whole time, have I been completely oblivious to his true feelings and what he wants? I’ve never thought of him like that before.

  When I was younger, I thought we would get married because we were best friends, but that was before the world of dating and boyfriends. I’ve never looked at him in a way other than my best friend. I didn’t think he did either, but I guess I’m wrong.

  “Clearly, Trent figured it out,” she winces, stopping me from thinking about it further as she looks like she’s preparing to say something. There’s so much concern in her eyes that I know what it is before she asks.

  “He’s not like Matt,” I answer, making her snap her mouth closed in surprise. “Trent’s nothing like Matt.”

  She doesn’t say anything else, but her eyes tell me that she doesn’t believe me. I don’t blame her, considering all the times I’ve lied in the past in an attempt to defend my relationship.

  “Trent doesn’t have an issue with Cam because of a crush.” I struggle with the right words to say. “He thinks that Cam could have done more to protect me when it came to Matt.”

  Sort of true.

  “He and Cam’s argument earlier was about how Cam was now trying to step in and protect me from Trent when he didn’t try to ever do that with Matt.”

  As I finish, I quickly realise that what I’ve said can relate to Kristie too and that her downturned mouth is because she’s come to that realisation herself. It’s quiet between us for a moment as a part of our friendship is finally being brought to light in the darkness of the room.

  “I’m sorry, Elle,” she says. “For not doing more.”

  How do I even begin to explain to her that she isn’t to blame when, at the same time, a part of me is angry at Cam? How do I let her know that although from her eyes they’re the same, in reality, he has a strength that she can’t even begin to understand? That her ideas of monsters and men are so entangled that it’s almost impossible to tell them apart.

  “You have been my lifeline for years, Kristie,” I say softly. “If it wasn’t for you and what you’ve done for me, I don’t think I’d be here right now.”

  All the nights of endless crying and consoling, the moral support, and helping hand when things got too tough. The safe haven that she opened up to me without a second thought, her family embracing me like one of their own. She’s done more than any person should ever be expected to.

  I can’t be angry at her for that, and I can’t really blame Cam either, can I?

  “I’m going to speak to Cam,” I tell her with a sigh. “Trent’s just overprotective.”

  “He has every right to be,” she replies defensively. “You need someone like that. I think you’ve needed it for a long time.”

  She turns over onto her side, looking at me as she takes my hand while wrapping her own around it. Suddenly, it feels like we’re kids again; having a sleepover and whispering to each other so her parents won’t hear— the things said between us for our ears only.

  “I’m really proud of you, you know, for finally being able to leave him.” She smiles. “I know that it seems like you managed to do it because of Trent, but I know that it was you. He’s just provided somewhere that you could actually go to with no questions asked and a place to feel safe. He gave you an option. He’s really good for you.”

  They’re the words I need to hear but I’ve never realised it.

  That’s the thing with Kristie; she always knows what to say, what will help me, what will comfort me.

  “And I want to apologise for pushing you earlier at the beach.” She cringes as I chuckle. “I just wanted you to know that it’s okay if you had slept with him because I knew there might be a part of you that was ashamed by it. Matt used to say some horrible things to you, and I didn’t want you to be hearing them because you’d gotten . . . intimate.”

  We both start to laugh at her words as we try not to blush thinking of naked boys and the things that could happen with them.

  “I know that you’ve been taking it slow, and whatever pace you’re going at is right for you, but when you do finally be with him . . .” She holds up a hand. “And I’m saying ‘do’ and not ‘if’ because I think you guys are already unable to stay away from each other.” I roll my eyes and flick her nose lightly, unable to keep the grin off my cheeks. “I just want you to know that it doesn’t make you any less of a person. And if Trent treats you any differently after it, then I’ll kill him.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” I tease. She thinks about it for a moment before nodding.

  “True that, but I’m serious when I say that I’ll never just stand by and watch you get hurt again. I’ll never feel like I didn’t do enough and could have stopped something. I promise. No matter what.”

  She kisses my hand in hers and then I return the gesture, the two of us not having to say any more words because we both know that despite everything that we’ve been through, our friendship can never be broken. Not by anyone.

  “I love you,” we say simultaneously, erupting into another fit of giggles as we do.

  “Right, bedtime,” she says, a finality to her tone. “And don’t you be trying to make any moves on me in your sleep thinking it’s Trent.” She only laughs as I scoff and jab her side.

  It’s nice to feel so at ease with her again and to have her beside me. There’s a weight that has been lifted off my shoulders knowing that she’s right next to me in every decision that I make, despite her not understanding it completely. She believes me when I tell her that Trent is good, even though she knows Cam better. She’s helping me to discover myself, to find out exactly who I am without the influence of other people hovering over me. She’s supporting me in becoming this new person and doesn’t mind that I’m changing because we both know that at the heart of it, we are never going to lose each other.

  I lie awake thinking about it for a while.

  Kristie has long fallen asleep, her snores occasionally interrupted by her own breath catching, but otherwise, she’s dead to the world. Yet here I am, wide awake and wondering why my mind won’t rest and let me sleep.

  You already know why.

  Almost out of instinct, my eyes drift over to my door. I wonder for the twentieth time if he’s lying outside of it like he does every night, making sure that I’m not having a nightmare.

  I suppose I can just peek.

  Carefully, as to not wake Kristie, I pull myself out of the bed, delicately putting the covers back down as I stand while watching my best friend who just snorts and rolls over, spreading out into the now free mattress.

  Of course.

  I tiptoe across the carpet and to the door, my hands already playing with my hair and straightening out my top in preparation for seeing him.

  God, I’m pathetic.

  With a deep breath, I open the
door quietly, peeking my head around the corner as my eyes search for his adorable guilty expression wrapped up in a blanket, but he’s not here. A deep feeling of disappointment fills me as I completely open the door and stare at the empty space, feeling silly for thinking that he was.

  He can’t just wait for you every night, Elle.

  Kristie is here. Of course, he feels comfortable leaving me alone with her and thinks I’ll sleep fine—any sane person would—but that doesn’t stop me from softly closing my door as I begin to creep down the hallway.

  He’s probably still in his office or out doing some investigating or something.

  My feet seem to stop outside his door by their own accord, my hand already on the door handle before I can convince myself that this is an insane idea.

  “He probably won’t even be here,” I try to assure myself, my voice unnaturally breezy. “He’s down in his office.”

  Before I lose my confidence, I lightly tap on the door, waiting to hear the movement from behind it as he comes to open it, but there’s nothing.

  “Trent?”

  Despite all logical thinking, I open the door and walk into his room, my eyes struggling to see anything in the darkness. I fumble over to the bedside table where I see a lamp and manage to switch it on after a moment of struggle, the room lighting up in a warm golden glow. A soft gasp escapes my lips as I take in the decorations and furniture, my eyes following the path to the bathroom that digs at memories in the back of my head.

  I’ve been here before.

  The day that Mrs. Grenway died . . . this is the bathroom that he took me to, the room in which I had cleaned myself up and sobbed until I passed out. I didn’t know that it was Trent’s room. I thought it had been a spare room or something, but I suppose in my fog of sorrow, I didn’t stop to see if there were any giveaways on the wall. All I really remember of it is the large shower in one corner and the dark tiles while everything else is like a blur. When I woke up, I was in the room that is now my own.

  Of course, in my most vulnerable moment, he put me where he thought was safest.

  I’m surprised to feel comfort when I look at it instead of a painful memory.