Three Times Torn Page 3

  I roll my eyes. “Whatever, kiss me and go.”

  “Don’t be like that, Sparks. Don’t be mad.” He slips his index finger under my chin and tilts my head back. Raising a questioning eyebrow, he asks, “Okay?”

  “Yeah,” I slur, breathing him in. Planting a gentle kiss on my lips, he draws back, eyes narrowed and jaw locked. I watch the controlling muscle in his neck jump, and jest, “Yeah, that upsets me too.”

  He chuckles. “It’s the pull, Sparks.” He pats the side of my butt and backs against the handle of the door so it opens. “See you in a bit.” The door slowly closes in my face, and I lean my head against it, quietly slamming my hand against the cold metal. That drives me crazy.

  Counting to ten, I pull it together and turn around to my friends.

  Glen smiles as she hooks her arm around mine. “Come on, let’s go to lunch.”

  I go ignored as Glen and Scott are all over each other, as usual, during lunch. The others laugh and joke as they eat. I’d like to leave, but thanks to Roehl, I can’t just get up and go as I want. Nathan still hasn’t told me about their past, what he can do, or why we must wait around to rid myself of him. But I guess we all have our secrets. There’s so much I don’t understand, and other things I wish would come to sight so I wouldn’t have to spend this life guessing.

  PRINCIPAL HOLLANDER INTERRUPTS THE end of day announcements to provide the schedule for us to pick up our caps and gowns next week. Graduation’s in only three weeks. And as if we needed the reminder, the student council has plastered the walls with congratulation signs in every hall of the school.

  Glen and Scott left me as I wait for the guidance counselor to provide my enhanced speech. She loved the one Nathan and I wrote, but there are certain things she’d like for me to add, and a closing that requests the graduates not throw their caps up since we’ll be in the gym instead of outside on the field as they’d planned. Despite what they say, we will be tossing our caps in the air. I leave out the rear doors of the school to the back lot, spotting Nathan waiting in Taylor’s car.

  “What’s going on?” I ask as Nathan opens the door for me.

  “Picking you up.” He pushes the door closed after I’ve settled in.

  I press the button to let down the window. “Right. But why are you in Taylor’s car?”

  “My truck was messy. Olar doesn’t know how to keep things tidy.”

  “Tidy, huh?”

  “Yes,” he grumps. “He always fucks my shit up,” he mutters, walking around the car.

  We haven’t spoken to Taylor since that night she told us about Roehl. She’s tried on multiple occasions to apologize, sparking small talk, cooking, anything to get our attention. We eat her food but never engage. Nathan’s really rude to her, though; closing doors in her face, eyeing her as she speaks then walking right past her, or ignoring her completely.

  Everyone knows about what happened. Justin’s even giving her the cold shoulder. His version of the cold-shoulder. He doesn’t talk to her but will offer his touch and a kind smile when everyone else has nothing to do with her. Natalia, also, stays by her side. She’d called a family meeting last night, wanting to discuss Taylor and how we’re all family and should treat her as such because we love her. Nathan stood and apologized for being rude, but refused to discuss the matter further. We left the room with him saying Taylor isn’t a part of this family anymore. His tone was so cold when he said it his words left the great room and everyone in it freezing.

  Glen gets in the backseat, throwing her bag on the floor. “Scott, can you buy me one of these cars?” she asks as he climbs in beside her.

  I turn in my seat, wrinkling my nose. “Are you serious?”

  She shrugs, brushing me off. “What? I want one.”

  “No,” Scott huffs.

  “Where’s your car?” I ask Scott. “Why don’t you drive it?”

  “Because.” He swats Glen’s hand away as she tries to pick at a scab on his face. “We’re all going to the same place. Why drive two cars? I’m going green.”

  “Right. . .” I drag, unconvinced. Going green. . . I shake him off, watching Nathan get in. “So, why are we in Taylor’s car?”

  “Because I like this car,” he answers.

  “Does she know you took her car?”

  “Does it matter?”

  I wave back at Angela and Rachel as we leave the lot. “For conversation’s sake, yes it does.”

  “Yes,” he drones, seeming as if he’d prefer not to answer.

  “Did you ask?”

  “No.”

  “Well, why—”

  “Sparks,” he cuts me off. “You have a lot of questions today,” he says sweetly. It’s obvious he’s irritated but trying to keep the peace.

  “Moody I see.” I sit back, looking out the window. I do have a lot of questions, and I’d like them answered.

  Scott bickers at Glen, demanding she leaves his war wounds alone. He’s been in a mood since our missing Prom last week. Everyone’s been giving him a hard time about it because he was voted prom king. School is Scott’s thing, he’s dedicated and values every minute of it. Besides keeping Glen under his arm, that’s the only other thing of which he’s proud. So, missing the epic, once in a lifetime senior prom, he’s been bummed out.

  I, on the other hand, wasn’t concerned with attending. Things are a little different for me now. I thought the most important obligation I had was school and it probably should still be that. But . . . not so much anymore. I’m more focused on how to make dark vines not appear on my arms and ears, how to not need my boyfriend every second of the day, what color my eyes are, and if it’s safe to go outside alone.

  The elephant in the room grows larger as Scott and I wait for Nathan to tell us what happened to the Hybrid.

  “Where is he?” Scott asks again.

  Nathan goes to the fridge, grabbing a plate of food I assume he’d made earlier. “He’s hanging around here.” He puts the plate in the microwave and quick starts it. “He’s still not talking.” Going back to the fridge, he grabs a couple of bottled waters, and by the time he walks back to the microwave, it’s beeping.

  “What’s next?” Scott asks.

  “I go in,” Nathan answers coolly, grabbing the plate and handing it to me.

  I take it, nearly snatching it from his hands, eager to calm my rumbling stomach. I’ve not eaten since last night. “Go in how?”

  “To talk to him,” he answers, taking the seat next to me.

  “I’m coming,” I hurry to say, blowing the hot broccoli.

  Nathan fixes me with a narrow glance, his disapproval for my attending etched in the pinched corners of his eyes. “Tracey, I don’t like you being around this stuff.”

  I eat, ignoring him.

  “Nate, we don’t get any food?” Glen pouts, snatching a slice of my roast.

  “Didn’t you eat at school?” Nathan retorts, pulling my plate a bit further away from her.

  Glen kisses Scott’s cheek and mutters, “Not the food.”

  Turning up my nose, I nag, “That’s nasty.” She laughs, sharing my plate.

  “No. You two don’t get any food.” Nathan punches Scott’s arm. “Get up and make your lady something to eat.”

  “And kill her with my cooking? No,” Scott quips, avoiding Glen’s twenty-fifth kiss.

  I chuckle, feeling Roseland’s presence enter the kitchen.

  “Hello, kids,” he chimes, throwing a hand against Nathan’s back. “You’re just getting in from school?”

  “Yeah,” Scott answers.

  Roseland leans against the counter, crossing his thick arms in front of his chest. “Nathan?” he starts, taking a bite out of an apple he snagged from the bowl. “There’s a Hybrid hanging in the let out bathroom. Olar said he was there for a reason. Would you know anything about that?”

  Nathan chuckles but his amusement doesn’t show. “Yes. I’m about to take care of that, with intentions of having him out shortly.”

  “W
alking or being cleaned up?”

  “Depends,” Nathan says, standing.

  I scrape the last of my food from my plate and down the rest of my water. An uncontrollable belch barges from my throat, and I throw my hand over my mouth. “Wow! I am so sorry about that,” I say in my hand, meeting the many eyes glaring at me. “I was starving.”

  Nathan pats my back, giving me a half-smile. “It’s okay, Sparky. Let it out.”

  I laugh. “That was delicious. Thank you.”

  Glen leaves for the stairs. They moved from their downstairs room to upstairs, down the hall from Nathan’s. She never sits in on Nathan and Olar’s festive interrogation sessions, and with good reason. The rest of us follow Nathan to where he’s holding the Hybrid.

  The let out bathroom’s a five-minute hike out behind the garage. I wondered about the name let out, but I get it now. The detached bathroom is the size of a small bedroom. Lined with low hanging pipes and rails, the shower stall like room holds a small toilet far on a wall next to a sink with a dirtied mirror above it. Smack dab in the middle of the ceiling, a foot-wide showerhead hangs a foot low. I can only imagine who or what would need this big of a bathroom, and why the Newcombs have one. It feels icky in here, and the mold and mildew growing up the brick walls are by far disgusting. I drag my gaze from their corrosion to the permanently dirty tile floor, of which a drain sits in the middle right beneath the showerhead.

  A shadow moving on the floor has my gaze following it up to the hanging Hybrid. Without restraints, his hands are gripped tight around the pipe as his feet dangle inches from the floor. He looks us over, resting his jet-black eyes on me and smiles. Still favoring Dad, his features are different, eyes closer together, a more pointed nose, and smaller ears. He’s built more slimly and taller than my father is.

  I move a little behind Nathan, wishing the stranger would stop undressing me with his unswerving gawp.

  “You wanted to come,” Nathan chaffs.

  “Shut up,” I fire back, matching his quiet.

  His arm grazes mine as his hand moves to my lower back, he pats it once and leaves me to stand in front of the hanging Hybrid. Roseland takes up the spot he vacated. Scott stands at my other side. I’d object to their overprotectiveness because I can totally take care of myself, but I bite it back, seeing the determination to make it to me sewn deep in the Hybrid’s dark eyes.

  A flicker on the far wall draws my attention to Olar leaning against it. He’s always got something wicked up his sleeve, and I anxiously wait to see how this will play out.

  “Johann,” Nathan starts, snatching everyone’s attention.

  The Hybrid drops to the floor, standing eye level with him. “Why are you holding her?” Johann asks tentatively. He’s yet to take his eyes off me.

  Nathan looks over his shoulder at me, then back. He snorts, amused. “She’s mine to hold.”

  “You should share something so. . .” Johann stalls, dark tongue sliding over his bottom lip as he all but rapes me with his gawk. “. . . Exquisite.” By the way his mouth moves, the word is supposed to sound seductive. But everything about his stealthy demeanor makes me want to vomit.

  “No.” Nathan pinches the side of his face, scratching his temple. “I’m selfish.”

  Disappointed, Johann shakes his head. Nathan smirks, clasping his hands behind his back and stretches. This is a side of him I’ve never seen with an enemy; calm, easy going, taking his time. I’ve grown used to him just beating the snot out of someone and walking away.

  Stretching his arms over his head, Johann folds them to rest on top of it, hands grabbing at the point of his elbows. He steals another glance at me before looking back at Nathan. “Yeah, that would be me too if she were mine.” He points with his elbow. “She smells like you but sweeter. Floral not sugar.”

  “Humph.” Nathan looks up at him from his bowed head. “Tell me why you’re here.”

  Johann’s skinny arms drop to his sides, and his eyes widen a bit as he, maybe, thinks of a quick response to Nathan’s sudden change in topic. “I came to see what all the fuss was about.”

  “What fuss? Who’s fussing?” Nathan inquires, brows hitched and eyes narrowed. He scratches the back of his head, giving Johann a quizzical expression, but he isn’t at all confused. I’d feel it if he was, but the contorted look on his face is very convincing.

  “Nate, if I knew she was yours, I wouldn’t have tailed it.”

  Nathan’s strange calm remains as he replies, “No. You knew she was mine when you approached her. Better yet, you knew she was mine when whoever sent you here to check her out or take her.” He steps back causing Johann to step forward, not wanting to give Nathan any distance. “What were your intentions?”

  Johann stammers over his words before compiling, “It was my intention to take her. But deliver her, not keep her for me.”

  “Deliver her?” Nathan questions. “To whom?”

  “Who else,” Johann dredges up.

  “And her family?”

  “They were of no importance. I was to do with them as I pleased. I would have done away with them before I snatched the girl.”

  Nathan takes a step to the side, and Johann matches his step. Nathan shakes his head, asking, “And was it mentioned what the intentions were with her?”

  “No. I was told I’d enjoy bringing her. But I was instructed not to deviate or be consumed by the attraction. That would’ve been difficult to follow through. I’m already consumed—the moment she spoke to me. It’s hard to fight.”

  The muscles jump in Nathan’s neck as he bites back his anger. But he’s superb at maintaining this strange calm. “Are there others with these instructions?”

  “If I fail, I’m sure there are others to replace me.”

  “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Johann.” Nathan’s hand falls on his shoulder. “But you failed. Horribly.”

  Johann’s jet-black eyes meet Nathan’s as he promises, “Nate, I guarantee you the details were left out.”

  “That may be so, but when you saw her with me, you continued to follow through with your plan. Never faltered.” He takes another step, but this time, Johann doesn’t move. Nathan nods with a small, wicked smirk teasing the corners of his mouth. “What was in it for you?” I’m itching to know what Nathan has up his sleeve. He’s up to something, but I’m as oblivious as Johann is.

  “What?” Johann’s face contorts. He lowers at Nathan in a way that makes his question seem like it was a complicated, scientific math problem.

  “I’m curious?” Nathan’s never curious.

  “Nate, there are others, maybe, three behind me. Whatever happened, he wants her, and he has made them and I want her as well. Allow me the opportunity to change this. I’ll take care of it for you.”

  Nathan grins and the sharp of his teeth peeks out behind his lips. “Take care of it for me?” He pauses as if he’s considering Johann’s offer. Amusement lightens his eyes, but the malevolence in his smirk and lowering brows diverts his humor. “Not a chance,” he drawls in a stingily deep voice.

  “You know what he wants; he’ll have. You know, Nathan. You know you can’t prevent that,” Johann states, voice shaking as he trembles. Fear stains his face; whatever Nathan’s next move is he’s not ready for it.

  “You don’t think so?” Nathan stretches his arms behind his back, somehow amused by Johann and his doubt. “After all the things you’ve seen me do. You knowing the full extent of what I am capable of . . . doubt me?” he whispers the words inquisitively.

  Johann arcs over, throwing his hands to his head. “Get out of my head, Nathan!” he orders, sharp fingernails digging into his hair and piercing his scalp. Screams blare from his throat, and I don’t know if it’s because of Nathan or himself.

  I clamp my hand over my slacked-jaw. My stomach heaves and I force myself to swallow down the sudden urge to spew chunks.

  Olar emerges out of the dark corner, coming up behind Johann. “That’s not Nathan,” he snarls. “S
top fucking around and tell us what his next move is!” He’s not nearly as calm as Nathan is. He’s also a lot more intimidating than Nathan with his dark and deadly voice, making me think if Johann doesn’t give him what he wants he will kill him, or something worse.

  Johann shrieks, making my ears ring. Whatever’s going on in his head must be worse than him digging his nails into it. Black blood stains his fingertips and forehead as he digs and claws at himself. “I was only supposed to come here to get her. I don’t know past that. I swear! Please get out of my head!” he wails, agony bleeding through his tempered words.

  “Not happening. I know you know more,” Olar says, infuriated.

  “Nathan, please let me go? Make him stop,” Johann begs.

  Nathan rubs his hand over his beard, and it slides down to his neck before falling to his side. “You tried to take what’s mine. Unforgivable. You knew who she belonged to when you saw me walk in the office with her. You even went out of your way to watch her family, learning their speech, their ways, and posed as her father to further your goal of her leaving with you.” Anger sweeps over his once calm eyes, swirling them midnight. His deep voice stings in his lower tone. “And you want me to let you go? Just like that?”

  Johann drops to his knees. “Please?”

  Nathan pulls his shoulders back, and his neck hardens as he drones, “When have you ever known me to let someone go who’s crossed me? Better yet, tried to cross me?”

  “Never,” Johann counters, now calm.

  “Then why would I start with you?” Nathan regards in a demonic tone that scares me.

  Johann breathes heavily, pulling his nails from his skull. His arms fall to his sides; fists pressed to the tile. He glowers at Nathan, a wishful threat in his squinted eyes.

  Olar sits down on the floor next to Johann, propping up his knees.

  “What?” Johann sneers, turning up his nose at him.

  Olar smirks his amused, yet, threatening gleam, letting his sharp teeth sink into his pink tongue. “Nothing,” he says, shoving Johann. “Jus’ chillin’.”

  Johann falls in a sit.