A Dark High School Romance The Brotherhood – (Redwood High) Series Books 1-5

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A Dark High School Romance The Brotherhood – (Redwood High) Series Books 1-5 Page 10

by Summer Rose


  "Are you sure? You look so pale… and Christ Kat, you're burning up,” he said as he placed a hand on my forehead.

  I shrugged it off and adjusted my shoulder strap before turning back around to walk into the school building with Aaron following beside me. "It's okay, Aaron. Everything is fine," I said again, even though I was absolutely sure someone had been following me.

  He sighed when we reached my locker and watched me pull out my books. "Just know I'm here for you if you need anything, Kat, okay?"

  My lips tugged up helplessly into a broad smile as my gaze found his. "Thanks, Aaron… for everything.” I couldn't imagine what my life at Redwood would have been like if Aaron wasn't in it. Although I had initially started with four male friends, he was all I had left now, and I never took him for granted.

  A lot had changed since the first few months I spent in Redwood. Liam, who happened to be responsible for my father's death - an occurrence that caused my mum and me to move to a new city in the first place - and killed two other girls for bullying me, was being reprimanded in a psychiatric home. Jake, though still my friend, was now dating a girl that I didn't particularly care for, and Mason…

  "So…" Aaron drawled, adopting that tone that said he was about to say something I wouldn't like. "Have you spoken to him yet?" he asked, and my heart fluttered.

  I averted my gaze and slammed my locker shut before walking away with a scowl.

  "I'll take that as a no," he said as he ran to keep up with me. "Seriously, Kat, you can't keep doing this. You need to talk to him…"

  I came to an abrupt stop. "And say what, Aaron? Hey Mason, I'm sorry I took your secret paralyzed twin brother out without permission and got him killed for reasons I still don't know?" I huffed and tugged furiously at my bun-styled blonde hair.

  Aaron turned me around to face him, his beautiful green eyes staring into my bright blue ones. "Mason isn't mad at you. He doesn't blame you for what happened. There's no way you could have known. You just have to talk to him, Kat.”

  "How do you know, huh? How do you know he doesn't blame me when he has been avoiding me for weeks now? He doesn't want to talk to me, Aaron. Just drop it,” I snapped at him, my lips quivering as I willed myself not to burst out crying from hurt and from missing my boyfriend too much. If we were still dating at this point.

  Shoving his brown hair back roughly, Aaron scoffed. His frustration with me was quite clear. "He's hurt, he's scared, and his parents are not letting him anywhere out of their sight because of the press and investigations going on. It doesn't mean he's avoiding you, Kat. You just need to reach out to him.” His eyes softened when he spoke again, "He misses you."

  I shook my head. "I can't, Aaron… I…" my voice caught as I whispered. I knew I was a coward, but I couldn't help myself. I couldn't bear seeing Mason just yet… or maybe ever.

  What if he had stopped looking at me with love and adoration in those dazzling blue eyes of his? What if he no longer loved me because of what happened? What if he hated the sight of me because it reminded him too much of his dead twin brother? So many "what ifs" ran through my mind, pulling me further away from the boy I was in love with.

  "Kat…" Aaron's voice bled of pleas, but I wouldn't budge.

  Gritting my teeth with sheer stubbornness and determination, I began to walk away from him once again, but he caught up with me, of course. "I don't want to have this conversation again, Aaron. I mean it," I stared at him meaningfully, hoping he understood the seriousness of my request as we stood outside the classroom.

  He nodded, even though it was clear he had more to say.

  "Good," I said and pushed the door open as we entered.

  The first thing I noticed was Jake's laughter - the laughter he had once reserved only for me - directed at Noelle, who beamed happily from where she sat on his lap. I swallowed down the ugly green monster that threatened to rear its ugly head, reminding myself that Jake was happier with her, and I was in love with Mason, but it still hurt.

  I took my seat just as Aaron took his beside me and watched the two happy lovers jump apart when the teacher made his way in.

  My eyes reverted to Mason's empty seat. I sighed longingly before they traveled toward the window that faced the school parking lot.

  Far ahead, in the woods across the parking lot, I could see a man in a hoodie staring straight at me with his face hidden. My heart began to pound as I watched him point his finger at me.

  "Miss Dawson, care to repeat the last word I said?" the teacher's angry voice flowed into my ears. I turned to him with a blush, but luckily, Aaron saved me by answering the question.

  I looked back out the window, but the man in the hoodie was gone.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A fter school, I said a quick goodbye to Aaron and ran home, all the while trying to see if the strange man was still following me. As soon as I made it into my house, I slammed the door shut behind me.

  My eyes searched the living room as I panted, leaning against the door. "Mom, you're home," I said in relief as soon as I spotted her coming out of the kitchen with a napkin in hand. "Why?" I scrunched up my nose in confusion as soon as I realized she wasn't usually home at this hour.

  "Oh, I finished work early, so I decided to come home," she replied with a smile. "We never really hang out anymore," she said with a pout, her pretty brown eyes shining with feigned sadness.

  "Oh," I said simply, my breathing slowing returning to normal.

  My mom walked toward me carefully with a raised eyebrow before gently placing a hand on my arm. "Is everything okay, bebé?" she asked, worry dripping from every word.

  I swallowed and shook my head frantically before pushing myself off the door. "We have to move mom. Away from this house, away from this town… From everything," I whispered as I gazed up into her eyes.

  Instead of giving me a reply, my mom simply watched me with sadness and a hint of worry before dragging me to the couch, where she sat me beside her.

  "I know you think I'm crazy, but mom, I'm not. This man keeps following me everywhere I go, and it's too… I'm scared, mom," I whimpered.

  "Oh honey, I don't think you're crazy. I think seeing Mason's brother get killed that day must have scarred you deeply, and I wish you’d talk to Dr. Martin about it. He says you only come into his office and stare at the walls for an hour…"

  I sighed, frustrated that she still didn't believe me even after all we've been through. "How can you not believe me, mom? One of those men is coming after me, and they want to kill me. Please…"

  "For God's sake, Katrina, these men have been arrested! All three of them, and you identified them yourself... including the dead one," she waved her hands erratically around, then her voice softened. "The police have it under control, darling. I promise you."

  I nodded, even though I was sure I was being followed. The words in the letter I had received at Connor’s burial still rang in my head, but I was done making my mom worry. I was going to handle whatever issues I had by myself.

  "I understand, mom. Thanks," I said and laid my head on her lap.

  Her hand caressed my hair lovingly as she asked, "What about Mason? Have you talked to him?"

  I groaned at the direction of our conversation, and sat up, dislodging myself from her touch. "No," I grumbled, looking everywhere but at her.

  She sighed. "Bebé, you can't keep avoiding that boy. God knows what he's going through, seeing as his parents keep him under lock and key because of all the reporters swarming their house everyday…" She shook her head as she trailed on and on, not realizing how much I was getting crushed by her words.

  Mason, the boy I claimed to be in love with, was having a hard time. Yet here I was hiding out in my house like a coward and whining about being followed by a man that apparently only I could see.

  I picked up the satchel I had dropped on the floor earlier and stood up. "I need to finish my calculus homework, mom. I'll come down when dinner is ready," I said. There was no assignment, but my heart
ached too much whenever anyone talked about Mason or even mentioned his name.

  "Okay, darling," my mom replied with a smile and watched me head upstairs and into my room.

  Seated by my desk, I pulled out my phone and stared at his contact - as I did every day since the incident - with my finger hovering over it. If only I dared to dial Mason's number and talk to him, then I wouldn't miss him so damn much.

  Torturing myself further, I pulled up a picture I had taken of him during one of the school’s football games. It displayed a sweaty Mason as he pulled up his shirt to wipe his forehead and revealed a well-sculpted chest and tanned six-pack. I had run my hands all over it in the throes of passion just a few hours before I got his brother killed.

  'Way to go, Kat,' I thought to myself bitterly.

  In a fit of rage, I threw my phone across the room, aiming for the wall, but it was caught by a large hand instead. I raised my head to see Jake crawling into my window.

  "Katrina…" he whispered as soon as his feet landed in my room, closing the window I had left open behind him, and I couldn't help myself.

  I ran into his open arms and broke down in tears. "I miss him," I sobbed into his shirt.

  "I know, Katrina," he said, his hand running up and down my back. "I know."

  CHAPTER THREE

  T he vintage, chestnut grandfather clock that hung on the wall kept ticking and filling the silent room with its noise while I glared at it. I had never really understood the clock's point when there was another perfectly normal wall clock just inches away from it. Then again, Dr. Martin was a peculiar man.

  I thought my conclusion of him being weird was valid because what therapist was okay with sitting in his office for an hour with a client who refused to speak a word ever since their sessions began? The first day had been the only day he had tried to get me to talk, but I had been so angry for being there that I refused to speak and so every hour I spent with him was in total silence.

  My mom had suggested I see a therapist after witnessing Connor's death and waking up covered in sweat from my nightmare-ridden periods of sleep. As much as I had been mad at her for making me see Dr. Martin every Friday after school, I did as she asked because it was the only way I could reassure her. Also, telling her on several occasions that I was being followed by a strange man did not help my case.

  Her eyes had told me how scared and sad she was at my predicament, and I was pretty sure she thought I was going crazy at some point. The last thing I wanted was for my beautiful and bubbly mother to be drained of whatever energy she had left, after everything she has endured since my father's untimely death. So, I went to therapy and sat there in stone-cold silence, unable to put an end to it so my mother's heart wouldn't be broken once more.

  I watched as Dr. Martin continued to scribble into his notepad, his dark eyes peering from his thick-rimmed glasses. He stopped to scratch his grey hair at some point. Still, my therapist immediately continued with furrowed eyebrows. I wondered what he wrote in there, just as I always did whenever I came around.

  For some reason, I felt the urge to lash out at him today even though I never used to care. "Aren't you supposed to be helping me?" I spat out bitterly even though I was the one who had refused to speak in the first place.

  If Dr. Martin was shocked at my outburst, he didn't show it. He simply placed his pen gently on the notepad and raised his head to stare at me with kind eyes. "Of course, Miss Dawson," he replied with a smile that only made me want to scream.

  I needed him to be angry, to yell at me, to tell me that I was the one to blame for everything. Instead, he smiled at me and watched me like parents watching their baby about to make his or her first step.

  Glowering at him, I said, "I see now that you're perfectly okay with taking my mother's money for each session, without doing your job. I should have known you were nothing but a quack.” His smile only got more expansive, and I felt my teeth clash against each other. "Why are you smiling? None of this is funny," I bit out furiously.

  He leaned back in his chair with a pointed gaze at me. "No, it isn't Miss Dawson…"

  "Kat," I corrected.

  "Kat… I'm merely excited that you are ready to talk. I apologize if my excitement made you feel uncomfortable.” Even his voice was soothing, but I didn't want to be calm. I tried to stoke the fire that was burning hot within me.

  "I never said I was ready to talk about anything. There's nothing to talk about." I averted my gaze from his soul-searching eyes and fidgeted with the strap of my bag.

  "I beg to differ, Kat. I think there's a lot you ache to talk about starting with Connor's death and how it made you feel. Your fear of everyone blaming you, guilt, and, most especially, your father's death."

  His last words made my head jolt up to glare at him with narrowed eyes. "What does my father's death have to do with Connor?"

  Dr. Martin leaned forward, his elbows on the desk as he watched me with careful eyes. "It has a lot to do with everything, Kat. If it wasn't for his death, you would never have been uprooted from your life and moved to this town where horrible things have been happening to you, your mother, and your friends.”

  I gasped. He had spoken the exact words I had been thinking every day since Connor's death, and from the way he watched me, he knew how spot on he was. However, I refused to be vulnerable around Dr. Martin.

  If there was anything I hated, it was being considered pitiful by anyone, and something about my father's death immediately made me defensive and cold.

  "This was a mistake, I never should have come here," I whispered, but I knew he could hear me.

  I shot up from the chair, my bag secured on my shoulder and bolted out of his office as I willed the tears not to fall while he watched me leave. It wasn't until I was out of Dr. Martin's building that I let the tears fall as I gasped desperately for breath.

  I clutched tightly at my burning chest, wishing my mom and I had never moved here in the first place. Also, cursing Liam Eddison a million times in my head for delivering the killing blow on my father.

  Running far away from the building, as my newly purchased boots pounded against the concrete, I went toward the only place I knew could grant me comfort at the time.

  Hopefully, I wouldn't run into any of the boys there.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  S eated on a wood log, I picked up a rock and began to write names with it in the sand, starting with Liam's.

  I was in the spot the boys and I had discovered just a little way down from Aaron's house, which wasn't quite far from my home or Jake's. We had been on a study date when we found the spot during my third week in Redwood.

  There was nothing exceptional about it. No lake, no flowers, no meadow; it was just a bare stretch of grass with scattered wood logs around. Yet we had claimed the place because of the calmness it provided. No insects or birds were chirping, just complete and utter silence. It was the perfect place to stay hidden from everyone and mope about my life.

  My hand shook as I wrote down the names Leila and Gina; the memory of how Liam had admitted to killing them because they hurt me filled my mind. Mason's name was next, but I couldn't write it without breaking down in tears. I missed him with every bone in me, but I couldn't bring myself to see him. It scared me to think of what I would find if I went looking.

  The sound of a twig snapping alerted me, and I quickly turned back to see what it was, my heartbeat accelerating, but there was nothing there. I sighed. Maybe everyone was right, and I was starting to imagine things.

  However, that thought soon left my head when I felt an arm snake around my neck and a hand covers my mouth to stop me from screaming.

  "You're coming with me," came the gruff voice of a man.

  Now genuinely terrified, I kicked out my legs and trashed against the person who held me as my eyes widened with terror. My screams couldn't be heard as they were muffled in my assailant's palm, but I soon managed to bite down on his palm and let out a loud scream before my mouth was covered aga
in.

  Determined not to give up, I stamped down on the man's leg with my heavy boots causing him to groan in pain. Luckily for me, the grip he had around me loosened, and I was quick enough to jab an elbow into his stomach and run like hell.

  "Help!" I screamed as I ran blindly away from the man who was now chasing me. "Please, help!" I yelled, tears falling from my face now and making it harder for me to see the fallen branch before me, which I soon tripped on.

  'This is it,' I thought as I lay on the ground with scraped arms and a cut on my forehead, wincing in pain. 'I'm going to die.'

  As I lay there, eyes closed, and awaiting death, I felt an arm embrace me, and the sweet scent of roses filled my nose. "Kat, what's wrong? What are you doing here?" Aaron asked.

  Slowly and gently, I opened my eyes to see my best friend crouched by my side, and I quickly fell into his arms. "Aaron, over there… there was a man and he… he tried to kill me. He kept dragging and chasing me… he said…" I would have continued, but his expression stopped me. It was clear Aaron had no idea what I was talking about. "Didn't you see him? He was right over there, Aaron.”

  Aaron shook his head in confusion. "There was no one here, Kat. No one but you," he whispered calmly, and I began to sob.

  "Oh God, I need help, don't I?" I asked a question we both knew the answer to. It was clear to me now that I was hallucinating things. I had to start taking my therapy sessions with Dr. Martin seriously.

  Aaron smiled kindly, his green eyes glinting with the reassurance. "It's alright, Kat. We'll figure it out," he said as he pulled me up and led me toward his house.

  *****

  I was seated on one of the kitchen chairs in Aaron's house, and I noted that his parents and younger sister, Renee, were not home. I watched as Aaron fumbled around while searching for the first aid kit.

  "Found it," he said, his voice muffled from his head being in one of the kitchen cupboards.

 

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