Three Times Torn Page 7

  Taking my wrist in his hand, he moves mine from the hold I have on his shoulder and leaves me to the chill. “Apparently it can’t,” he drones, pulling on his jeans. “I left my phone at home.”

  I sit up on my knees, catching my shirt he throws at me. “Nathan, you cannot be serious. You’re leaving?” Olar is taking Scott’s interrupter hat for sure. “This seriously can’t wait until tomorrow?”

  “It’s something important.”

  I grumble. Obviously, it’s more important than this, what we were possibly getting ready to do.

  “I’ll be back, Sparks. Relax.”

  I’ll be back, Sparks, relax, I mock him in my head. He throws the covers over me and heads to the window.

  “Put on a shirt before you go outside,” I grump, watching the muscles in his back react as he crosses the room to my window.

  He looks over his shoulder, angering me with his ‘kill me softly’ smirk. “You worried about someone else looking at me?”

  Rolling my eyes, I quip, “Don’t, Nathan.”

  Snatching his shirt from the chaise, he comes to the bedside and bends over to kiss me. I turn over, avoiding it.

  He groans. “Seriously, Sparks, it’s not that serious for you to act like this. I’ll be back.”

  “I’m sure I won’t see you until the morning,” I snap. But, realism soon settles in. Grumbling, I surrender. “I know, Nate. I’m sorry. Just this . . . seeing you leave all the time is killing me. I don’t mean to come off bossy or a pain. But our days are sucked up by my being at school and our nights always belong to someone else with you always being gone. I thought I wasn’t getting you tonight and was crazy happy I did, and now you’re going.”

  “You’re not a pain. I get it. But you wanted to bond with a Burdened Sephlem whose life you know isn’t simple. You promised to be understanding and willing to risk your time, which is always going to have some interference. I’m not trying to be a dick, but I warned you. And you said okay.” He pulls back the comforter and leans over to kiss my navel, working his way up to my lips. “I’ll make it up to you.” He pecks my mouth. “Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay. Hope everything is fine,” I say as he leaves.

  I pull the covers up to my neck as Roehl floats his menacing way into my head. I hate him and the way I can’t avoid the thoughts. It’s one of the reasons I want Nathan to put me to sleep. When I’m finally settled down, and I close my eyes, he smiles at me from the darkness behind my lids and his touch grazes my skin without shock. What scares me the most is that . . . I enjoy it. Turning onto my side, I try to remove him from my mind.

  The repeated whisper of my name accommodated by warm caresses wakes me no sooner than I fall asleep.

  “Good morning,” I gurgle, feeling the gloom of a rainy dawn.

  “Sparks, get up so you can go to school.” Nathan kisses my cheek, hand resting on my back.

  “No,” I sing.

  “I’ll be back in forty-five minutes. Be ready to go.”

  I jump up when he moves to leave, grabbing him faster than I intended. Looking up at him through tired eyes, I mumble, “Okay. You got it.”

  “You didn’t rest well last night. Take a hot shower to wake yourself up. I’ve got something to tell you on your way to school. I’ll be back.”

  I LEAN MY HEAD against the headrest, listening as Nathan reveals the news. Olar’s been enrolled at my school to attend classes through the end of the week. He’s not happy about it. Nathan’s going out of the country for a few days. He waited until everyone was in the car to tell me because he knows how bad of an idea this is and knows that with everyone around, I won’t fuss. But I want to object to this absurd change of plans. Something’s happened with his family in Norway and everyone’s needed. Scott’s leaving with him. Olar stopped by to tell Nathan this last night. It irritates me they always want the Burdened around when the shit hits the fan. And Nathan never gets to sit out; he always has to be available to help save, rescue, or talk sense into someone. Mr. number one. . .

  I knew what I was getting into when I got into it, I remind myself, looking out the window. The houses pass, trees fly by, a few signs blur as I just watch the world spin without me.

  They’re supposed to be back on Saturday, and that evening, we will have this grand, meet and greet dinner he and Mom discussed last night. While he’s gone, Taylor and Glen will sleep over at my house. He’s adamant about me not being left alone. Roehl’s a bigger issue than he’s let on, but he hasn’t admitted to that. Honestly, he doesn’t have to. Taylor’s the last person he wants around, but considering his other sister, Rose, is deceased he’s out of options. I’m feeling like the president’s daughter with all the secret Burdened service around me. And I’m upset he has to leave for freaking Norway at the drop of a hat.

  Pulling into an available spot near the rear doors of my school, Nathan shifts the car in park, and continues, “Olar’s going to drive you two to and from school. Tracey and Glen, please don’t give him a hard time.”

  “Oh my gosh, Nathan, you sound like our father,” Glen sasses from the backseat. She whooped on Scott so bad this morning. He had to wrestle her into the back of the car and force her to go to school. He stayed back at Nathan’s house to get things ready for their departure later this morning.

  “Right,” Nathan drags, annoyed. Meeting my gaze, his dominate expression morphs to a brooding one. “Be good. Don’t blow shit up or set shit on fire.”

  I look away from him, feeling like a child withholding a temper tantrum. Crossing my arms, I stare at the dash, wanting to ram my foot into it. Instead, I stifle my anger and grab my bag from the floor.

  Glen gets out, slamming the door, mumbling her obscenities as she stalks toward the school.

  I settle my bag on my lap, feeling Nathan’s stare. I won’t leave him without saying bye; doing so would only be my killing myself. The clingy me is trying to break through and I stay turned away from him so he can’t see the plea in my eyes for him to stay. I don’t want to be clingy; I want to be independent, and the more I try to convince myself of that, the more this freaking bond forces me to require him.

  “You’ll look out for her right?” Nathan asks Olar, never looking away from me.

  Olar’s upset about not accompanying them on their trip, but he doesn’t let it show. “Yeah, of course. She’s family. Plus. . . I don’t want you to kill me,” he affirms, getting out of the car.

  I smirk, shaking my head at his response.

  “You aren’t going to talk to me?” Nathan asks, unbuckling my seatbelt. I maneuver out of it and must have the saddest eyes when I meet his. “Sparks, don’t look at me like that. Cut me some slack.”

  “It’s not about you coming back, Nathan. It’s about you leaving.”

  “You know what you signed up for.”

  “Yeah. I signed up for you not leaving me.” I have an attitude and considering couples leave each other all the time; it’s a little exaggerated. I’m better than this and can suck up this need for him the bonding requires. It’s just. . . I know how aggressive this Roehl stuff gets when he’s not around, and I fear doing something I’m going to regret later.

  Nathan moves his seat all the way back and pulls me over the console as if I weigh less than a feather. “You’re right. I’m sorry I have to go away for a few days.”

  “It’s okay. I understand. It just doesn’t feel good. This is definitely the bond responding. If I were in control of my feelings, I wouldn’t be so insecure.” The bell rings, cutting into my sentence.

  “Come on. So I can walk you to the door.”

  “No, that’s okay.” I wave him off. “I’ll walk with Olar.”

  He’s reluctant, flicking his gaze away from me to the window. “If you insist.” Meeting my eyes, he follows, “Can I, at least, kiss you? Or would you prefer Olar to do that too?”

  I purse my lips and glare at him through my lashes. “Don’t be cute.” I lean over and peck his lips.

  “Uh-un.” He sh
akes his head. Wrapping his hand around the back of my neck, he brings me into a kiss that’ll tide me over three days. I fist his shirt, hearing the tardy bell ring. He pulls back, and I go back in, not allowing him any distance. Brushing my lips over his, they part, opening our mouths to our tiding kiss. Twisting tongues and tingling palates makes parting from him just as easy as it is hard.

  I gently pull on the back of his neck, keeping him close as I’m leaning away. A complete contradiction. “I’m going to miss you,” I mumble, staring into fascinating orange-brown eyes. Their brightness shines against my face. “Your eyes are so beautiful. They remind me of a setting sun.” I pause, searching them for the mood that matches the color. “. . . Steady contentment.”

  “Maybe,” he utters. “Even though I can hear your voice in my head, sense your breath in my lungs, and feel your heart in my chest, there’s always something more I need. You seal holes in me I didn’t know were empty, and you build peace in me I never believed existed. So I’m contented yet, complaisant.”

  “What is the more you need?”

  “It’s nothing.” He kisses me. “Call me if you need me. Don’t get into anything and stay with Olar if you go somewhere. Let him know if something is wrong.” He takes a pause, and his eyes swirl in coffee-colored warning. “Olar isn’t as controlled as Scott and me. Don’t let Glen piss him off. No. Better yet, don’t let anybody piss him off.” He nods to himself in agreement. “With him being more comfortable with you, a friendly pull of his arm or a stern call of his name will snap him out of it. As long as he isn’t too riled up. But just as I’m requesting he keeps an eye on you. Please keep an eye on him too.”

  “Okay,” I promise, moving back to my seat, but he holds me still. “I thought you were leaving.”

  “I am, and you need to get to class.”

  “I’m not the one holding me in the car.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Chuckling, I reach for his door handle, flip it, and push open the door. “Come on.” He follows me out. I curl my arms around his neck, and he leans down, wrapping his around me. He hugs me tightly. I can feel his worry for leaving, but he won’t stay. Breaking away, I say, “Be safe. I love you. And come back.”

  “I will. I love you. And always.” His hands fall to his sides. “Go ahead. I’m leaving the car here for Olar. I’ll run to the house and spaz out over needing to deal with this shit right now. It’ll allow me to relieve some of it.” He reaches into the car and grabs my bag. “After the ass whoopin’ Glen gave Scott this morning, I’m sure he needs a little more alone time.”

  I take my bag from him, saying, “Okay. Does your being gone mean I won’t hear from you at all?”

  His brows knit. “Nah. Reach out to me anytime. We’ll talk later tonight.” Trailing a finger along my jawline, he takes my chin between his thumb and index finger. I close my eyes, still enamored by his touch. But thankfully, I’ve stopped fainting.

  He tilts my head back, and the breeze blowing pass my lips is replaced by his. Though his kiss is soft, it’s reassuring; easing.

  Peeling my eyes open to the frigid, overcast day, I meet Olar waiting for me halfway to the school building.

  “Hey. You good?” he asks at my approach.

  “Yeah, I will be,” I answer, watching him nod at Nathan. “You ready for high school?” I tease, forcing a smile.

  “Not. At. All,” he loathes with a laugh.

  I snort. “Too bad.”

  He pulls the door open for me, and before I head in, I can’t resist stealing one more glance of my mate. The strings of his hoody sway in the wind with a gust blowing in the swollen clouds. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, and the arms of his gray hoody hug his biceps and forearms. As a chill counters his warmth, his frame expands making him bigger than normal. A sobered expression takes his face as he squints, but before I can consider what he’s thinking, he smirks, and I realize he’s listening to my thoughts.

  Blushing, I think to him. I’ll see you later. Be safe. Love you.

  Me too, be good.

  PRINCIPAL HOLLANDER REMEMBERS NOTHING from what happened yesterday. I’m thinking to blame Scott for that one. Olar and I leave his office for the clerk’s desk. Introducing him as the new student, Mrs. Carline all but turns her nose up at him. Murmuring under her breath about how ridiculous it is for him to start so late in the year, she clicks her keyboard and soon hands over his schedule and our late passes.

  Olar looks very different in his younger skin. His dark hair messily waves around his head, length falling past his ears. He only left in his earrings, one eyebrow ring, and his snakebite on the left side of his bottom lip. Puffs of smoke that could pass for well-designed tattoos cover his ears. They’re his ability marks. It took him to pull his hair back for me to notice them.

  We walk into our first-period class, and I roll my eyes, listening to the girls swoon over my cousin. “Why are you two late?” Mr. McLaughlin asks.

  “This is my cousin, Olar.” He steps to my side. “We had to finish up some things for him in the office. Here are our passes.” I wave them.

  “Fine, have a seat.” Mr. McLaughlin snatches the passes. “Late start for you isn’t it Mister. . .” He searches the pass for his name. “. . . Newcomb?”

  “Yeah,” Olar answers coolly and follows me up the aisle. Snagging the empty seat two rows away from me, he sits, and no sooner than he does; some chick’s in his face.

  Classes creep by and the only thing buzzing is the hot guy who walked in with Tracey. Olar isn’t that hot, at least, not as hot as everyone makes him seem. His disguised eye color is denim blue, and his bad boy look with his piercings and black nails is the total opposite of his curly locks that loosely wave around his head. His hair makes him look like he should be a pretty boy who wears long sleeve button downs and is captain of the lacrosse team, instead of black t-shirts and Burdened who enjoys playing torture games with his enemies. Olar has rubbed off on me, and I love his dual-sided personality and how he loves to joke around. He’s the most free-spirited Newcomb I’ve met so far. But mostly, he doesn’t let his guard down. So I guess with Olar being new and his I don’t give a shit about you attitude, he would seem attractive and exciting. Hashtag Swag.

  We meet Glen at her locker for lunch. “You okay?” Olar asks her.

  “No!” she blurts, slamming her locker closed and accidently breaking it. It rattles the entire row, drawing attention from onlookers. “What!” she yells at them.

  “Umm, Glen, I think you should calm down a little.” I wrap my arm around her and lower my voice to say, “We can’t have you throwing our classmates through windows.”

  She gives me a soft smile. “I’m sorry about that, Tracey, and I know. But it’s hard without Scott here.” She and Scott were tied at the hip every second of the day; before school, during school, after school, and when they slept. Having that much contact, always having that crave filled without the body properly adjusting to separation. I’m sure it’s tearing her apart being bound and not having him at her side.

  “I know it’s no compilation, but I’m here.”

  “Me too,” Olar seconds, hooking his arms around our necks.

  We enter into the lunchroom, avoiding our usual table. Neither of us is feeling the crowd, and we find an empty spot in the corner away from everyone.

  “What are we doing after school, Olar?” Glen asks, breaking a long silence.

  “Shit!” he blusters being yanked away from the table.

  Glen and I jump up, rushing to him.

  He throws out his hand, holding us back. Giving his snatcher an exaggerated sigh, he frets, “That was incredibly inappropriate.”

  I veer around him and am shocked by who’s trying to get his attention. “Wow, Joy. Just a simple hello would’ve worked.”

  “Hello, Tracey.” She pulls Olar’s arm, but he isn’t budging. “Can I talk to you without your stalkers?” she snips, peeking at Glen and me.

  “No,” he explicates in a strong tone
, removing his arm from her grasp.

  “Why?!” she bursts. The people at the table around us look in our direction, whispering about her outrageous retort. I throw my palm to my face, frustrated by her stupidity.

  Olar huffs, annoyed by Joy’s childish antics. One thing I’ve noticed about Olar, though he doesn’t take life too seriously, he’s mature when it comes to women, and he hates head games. Ironic, I know. “First off, they’re not my stalkers. Secondly, I’m not interested in women who don’t make proper use of their words.” He steps back to Glen and me. “Thirdly, I don’t like people disrespecting my family.”

  Joy doesn’t take well to rejection. And her forwardness toward Olar is shocking considering she has a boyfriend, who happens to be making his angry-faced way over to us.

  Glen chuckles and whispers, “Shit, Cey, look.” She nods toward him. “Check this out.” She raises her voice an octave, calling, “Joy, why don’t you step off before your macho boyfriend makes his way over here.” She looks around her and then shrugs. “Too late.”

  Joy whips around. A warning sticks in her squinted eyes as she looks back at us and then leaves for Neil. Her boyfriend of four years.

  This isn’t going to end well, is it? Olar asks me.

  Probably not. That’s Neil; he’s a dick. Let me handle it.

  Olar rubs the back of his neck, frustrated. Alright, Tracey. Because I’m not good with confrontations. Someone always dies or gets sent to the hospital.

  My head whips left, and I gape at him with furrowed brows and wide eyes. Biting my tongue, I turn away, remembering what Nathan had said. I hope it doesn’t get that out of hand.

  Joy fusses with Neil as he shoves her to the side, shaking his head, and pointing his finger in her face. I would whoop Nathan’s ass if he treated me that way. My hands warm and I stuff them in my back pockets, counting down from five.

  Neil looks the three of us over, glaring at Olar a little longer than needed.

  Smirking, Olar lets his head fall forward as he slowly shakes it. He gets a kick out of this, and if we weren’t in school, he’d probably punch the snot out of Neil already.