Never Tear Us Apart (Never Tear Us Apart #1)

by Monica Murphy

  I’m wild, like an animal. Blood pumps hard in my veins, pounds in my head, adrenaline making me itchy. I’m capable of anything, my gaze skittering over the many cars parked on the side of the road, searching for hers. Earlier this morning I’d parked my car down the street from her house on a random whim; the need to see her, keep track of her, make sure she’s safe was almost overwhelming. I gave in to the feeling despite knowing it was a mistake. I shouldn’t follow her. I’m no better than my father. Trying to keep tabs on her like some sort of sick fuck.

  But that’s not my intent. I want to ensure her safety. That’s all. She’s taken over my dreams. Her face haunts them, the memories twisting and turning, changing into an adult Katie. Katherine. Coming to me, her eyes glowing, a smile curling her lips, her words just for me.

  You found me. I knew you would.

  She wants to be found, but only by me. That’s the recurring theme in my dreams. She trusts no one, wants no one but . . .

  Me.

  I woke up with my dick hard and my fantasies fueled by nothing but her. Her pretty blond hair, perfect lips, and creamy smooth skin I want to touch. The sound of her voice as she whispers in my ear, her lips touching my skin and driving me wild with lust.

  You found me.

  All this week, from the moment I wake up, I think of nothing but her. Her name sizzles in my blood and scorches my brain. I can’t concentrate. I can’t fucking function. So I go in search of her. Keep tabs on her.

  And now I could lose her. Fuck. I punch the steering wheel with a curled fist, pain flashing through me but not strong enough to overtake the anger.

  I’m so pissed at myself I could spit nails.

  Losing her wasn’t part of the plan. I walked away from her only once, and I’ve regretted that move my entire life. I remember how thankful I felt at regaining her trust. She’d been so wary that night, so unsure of my every move. She’d had reason to think that way, too.

  I’m his son. It doesn’t matter if I have a different name, a fictional family background, or a different look. None of it matters because his blood still pumps wildly in my veins, making it sing.

  Making me hunt.

  Shaking my head, I banish the thought. I’m not hunting anyone. I’ve never felt like this before about any woman I’ve ever known. I’ve dated a handful. Had a semi-long-term relationship with one. She became too much for me. Too loud, too bossy, too demanding, too always wanting more than I could ever give her.

  We broke up and she’d railed at me spectacularly. Her anger was like a living, breathing thing, standing between us in a position that mirrored her. Arms crossed in front of her chest, hip cocked out, foot tapping on the ground as if she was waiting for the next answer. An answer I knew nothing about, one I couldn’t get right no matter what.

  After that last date, I never saw her again. Had no desire to seek her out, either. I’ve never felt like this, like I feel for her.

  Possessed. Obsessed. Both bad traits. Both awful, terrible, no-good traits that could end up harming someone, someone innocent. A girl.

  Katie.

  Lost in thought, I drive right past her, catching a glimpse of her sunny hair as I speed by. I hit the brakes, zipping into the small parking lot of a seafood restaurant, pulling into one of the many empty slots and cutting the engine of my Honda. The giant red-and-white sign posted in front of me says NO PARKING. Another sign states for RESTAURANT PATRONS ONLY, VIOLATORS WILL BE TOWED.

  Either way I’m going to end up getting a ticket or getting towed. It doesn’t matter. I need to go after her.

  I climb out of the car and hit the keyless remote before I cross the parking lot and start heading down the sidewalk, my pace quick, practically a light jog. She’s ahead of me, her jean-clad hips gently swaying, long golden-blond hair pulled into a high ponytail, the curling ends bouncing around her shoulders when she walks.

  She’s moving at a slow pace, her head going this way and that, as if she’s trying to absorb every sound, every smell, every taste. The sun is warm as it shines down upon us, bathing us both in bright light, glinting burnished gold in Katie’s hair, and my fingers literally itch to touch it.

  Fucking itch.

  Katie comes to a stop and so do I, staring at the giant roller-coaster track that’s right above us. I turn my head toward the entrance to the amusement park, only a few feet away. There aren’t too many people inside. The wall around the park is low so it’s not meant to keep people out, more of a parameter to let you know you’ve arrived. I remember seeing that wall as a kid, knowing what magic lay just beyond, and I’d get excited.

  I bet Katie was excited, too. Once upon a time. Before my asshole father ruined everything.

  Pretending I’m looking west, my gaze is really on her, my sunglasses the perfect shield. She doesn’t notice me. She’s too caught up in studying the track of roller coaster that rises above her. She’s tense, her entire body rigid, like she’s waiting for something momentous to happen.

  And then it does.

  The metal screeches as the roller coaster roars overhead, the smattering of people within the cars screaming their joy and/or terror, their hair flying, various sets of hands held high above their heads. It’s there and gone in a matter of seconds, the screams dying on the wind, the track of the roller coaster still seeming to screech and shake, as if a line of phantom cars are still running over the tracks.

  Katie remains fixed in place, her head tilted back, her ponytail falling so it hits the middle of her back. I take a step forward, possessed by an urge I can’t control. I want to get closer. Close enough to touch her. Smell her . . .

  She turns and I freeze, my lungs seizing, but she doesn’t look behind her. Instead she approaches the low wall that surrounds the park until she’s standing against it, her arms braced on the concrete ledge.

  Don’t go in there. You’re putting yourself at risk. You’re not ready yet. Why are you even here? Why are you all alone?

  The thoughts race through my mind as I wait for her to make another move. If I could go to her, I would. If I could tell her she shouldn’t go inside, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d take her by the arm and steer her away from this place.

  She suddenly reaches for her small purse, pulling her phone out of it and pressing it to her ear. I hear her hello carry on the wind, spearing straight through me, and for the briefest moment I close my eyes.

  Imagining that she’s saying hello to me.

  I tell myself I shouldn’t listen in on her conversation. It’s an invasion of privacy. A violation, and this girl—she’s been violated numerous times. An unimaginable number, and all at the hands of my father. His violation ended when I took her out of that storage shed, but the effects of what he’s done still linger.

  Memories may fade, but they never really go away.

  But I’ve already taken it this far. Following her. All in the name of protection. It’s my duty after all. A job she gave me long, long ago. I’m her protector. Her guardian angel. She said so herself and I made a promise.

  A promise I refuse to break.

  “You will kill me if I tell you where I am,” I hear her say, and I wonder who she’s talking to. There’s no man in her life. That much I’ve figured out through my thorough investigation, though I believed her when she said it on national TV.

  Maybe it’s her mother. Or her sister, or possibly a close friend. Any one of them would freak out if they knew where she was. I’m freaking out and I’m right here with her. I could save her, if need be. Interfere if I have to.

  “I need to do this, Brenna.” Her sister. A pause and I take a step forward, wanting to hear more, needing to hear more. “Brenna, stop. Listen to me. I know what I’m doing. I have to face my fears sometime, right?”

  Another pause, her entire body tensing as she stands up straighter. She doesn’t like what she’s hearing. “You did what? Mom is tracking my phone? Are you serious? Oh my God, how old do you think I am? You two can’t shelter me forever.”

&nb
sp; She starts to turn and so do I, pivoting away from her, not wanting her to see me. I face the other direction and start walking, my steps measured, hands in my pockets like I’ve got all the time in the world. A breeze washes over me, tangy with salt and something darker, almost rotten. It ruffles my hair, whistles against my ears, and I curl my hands into fists. Wishing I could look back, refusing to look back. Conflicted as usual, but I don’t want to make her suspicious.

  It just about fucking kills me, but I keep walking, slowing my pace, relaxing my stance until finally, finally I glance over my shoulder.

  To find she’s gone.

  I should’ve never guzzled that large soda at lunch. Now I had to pee so bad, but I didn’t want to leave the line for the roller coaster. We’d been standing there for the last thirty minutes and it was moving at a snail’s pace. Not that Sarah minded. She’d been flirting with the boys standing behind us practically the entire time.

  It’s like she turned into a different person when she was around the male species. I didn’t like it. I was uncomfortable enough, hanging out around older boys. And these boys were definitely older. They were all going to be sophomores in high school with the exception of one, who was a year younger.

  Sarah and I were going into the eighth grade. We were babies compared to these guys, but she didn’t care. She loved practicing her flirting skills on anyone she could find.

  She was mad at me for not flirting along with her, so her back was completely to me as she constantly flipped her hair over her shoulder and laughed at every stupid thing they said. And they said plenty of stupid things, their laughter extra loud, causing other people in line to look our way. They thought they were hilarious but I rolled my eyes more often than not, their lame jokes grating on my nerves.

  I hopped from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the pressure against my bladder, but it was no use. I was going to burst if I didn’t find a bathroom and since I wasn’t in the mood for utter humiliation, I figured I needed to go now. I touched Sarah’s arm and she whirled around, her eyes narrowed, the smile on her face false.

  My hand fell away from her, surprised at the irritation that came off her in obvious waves. “I need to use the bathroom,” I whispered, tilting my head close to hers so only she could hear.

  Sarah wrinkled her nose, like the thought of using the bathroom disgusted her when she’d been complaining of the same exact thing right after lunch. What, she gets around boys and suddenly she doesn’t have bodily functions?

  “The line is long,” she reassured me, waving at the people ahead of us. “I doubt we’ll move too much while you go to the bathroom.”

  Thanks. Advertise it to everyone, why don’t you. “But my parents don’t want us to separate,” I reminded her.

  She shrugged. “It’ll only be what? Five minutes? The bathroom is just right over there.” She pointed and I looked in the direction she was indicating.

  I did a little dance, but really I was trying to ward off the urge to pee. “I don’t know . . .” My voice drifted and she gave me a look. One that told me I was being pathetic. I’d seen that look before.

  But not usually directed at me.

  “Don’t be such a baby,” she practically hissed, flicking her head. “Go. I’ll hold your place.” When I hesitated, an impatient sigh escaped her. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you, Katie. Just go.”

  “Want me to walk with you?” one of the boys piped up. The youngest one. There was a hopeful look in his gaze and when I caught his eye, he smiled, revealing a mouthful of braces.

  He was being nice, but jeez. I didn’t need an escort. Sarah was right. It was just the bathroom and it was right over there. “I’m okay.” I smiled shyly, hating that I could feel the blush heating my cheeks. “Thanks, though.”

  “Your loss,” Sarah muttered, and I knew then she thought I was stupid for not taking the boy up on his offer.

  Whatever.

  Maybe I should have. Then I wouldn’t have to go alone, but . . . I didn’t feel right going with him. Besides, I could handle this. On my own. I was no baby.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said firmly, holding the chain down that roped off the line and stepping over it as agilely as I could, which was really pretty awkward. I ended up hopping on one foot, practically tripping over myself, and I prayed I wouldn’t pee my pants in front of everyone.

  Sarah would have killed me.

  “Don’t get lost,” Sarah said, making the boys crack up.

  Practically making me cry.

  Willing the tears away, I stormed off, infuriated at her. More so at my reaction to her cattiness. She was right. The bathroom wasn’t that far. They were all painted a hideous bright blue, a spot of recognizable color on the primary spectrum, and I came to a stop when I saw the long line to get inside.

  Great. It looked almost as long as the one for the roller coaster.

  But it moved fast. Next thing I knew I was in a dirty stall, untying my sweatshirt from around my waist and hanging it on the hook on the stall door. There were no more seat liners, so I grabbed some toilet paper and draped it over the seat before I took what felt like the longest pee of my life.

  By the time I’d finished washing my hands, I was sure Sarah and her new friends would be at the head of the line, just about ready to get on the roller coaster. I needed to hurry before I lost them. Sarah was the one with the cellphone. If I got separated from her, my parents would kill me. I’d be stuck following after them everywhere we went until I graduated high school.

  That was the last thing I wanted. I yearned for independence. I didn’t even like thinking of myself as twelve. I’d already moved on to thirteen. It sounded so much older, more mature. Twelve is a little girl.

  Thirteen is practically a woman.

  Once I exited the bathroom, I tied my sweatshirt sloppily around my waist and started back toward the roller coaster, pushing my way through the crowd that somehow had grown thicker over the last few minutes. A man kept yelling behind me, his voice friendly but insistent, saying, “Hey, hey you!” again and again.

  No way could he have been talking to me.

  “Hey.” A big hand clamped over my shoulder, pulling me to a complete stop, and I turned around slowly to find a man standing before me. His face was expressive and his smile was nice. He looked like every other dad wandering around the place, with neatly trimmed brown hair and a slightly wild look in his eye, like he’d rather be anywhere but there.

  It was the wild look that filled me with both curiosity and caution.

  “You dropped your sweatshirt.” He held it out toward me, the obnoxious red fabric bunched in his fingers, and I stared at his hand as if it were a snake preparing to strike out and bite me at any given moment. “It fell off right after you came out of the bathroom.”

  I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed that. “Thank you,” I said shyly, taking the proffered sweatshirt from him. I must not have tied it on well enough. I wrapped the sleeves around my waist and tied the knot twice before I was satisfied.

  “Hey.” He flicked his chin at me, all friendly and good-natured. He reminded me of a guy on a commercial trying to sell me lemonade. All sunny and wholesome, the ideal family man. “Do you know where the entrance to the Sky Gliders is?”

  That used to be my favorite ride when I was younger. It’s kind of lame, but I liked to use it to get from one side of the park to the other. “Over there.” I pointed and turned. Started to walk away. I needed to get back to Sarah. “Thanks for finding my sweatshirt,” I called over my shoulder.

  He followed me. I didn’t like that. Increasing my pace, I ignored the erratic throb of my heart and headed toward where Sarah waited for me in line.

  “Where you going?” the man yelled after me.

  I glanced back over my shoulder and realized he was directly behind me. “The roller coaster. My friends are waiting.”

  He seemed disappointed by that. Was he hoping to get me alone? My heart started to beat even faster. “That
line is always too long.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” I muttered, earning a laugh out of him. He walked beside me and I stepped to the side, putting some distance between us.

  “Ah, a feisty one.” The smile shifted, became almost . . . predatory. “You tell it like it is, don’t you.”

  Alarm rung through me at the tone of his voice, the way he looked at me. I slowed my pace and started to back away from him. “Nice talking to you,” I offered feebly right before I planned on turning and making my escape.

  He stepped forward like he could read my body language, grabbing hold of my arm and making me pause. “Wait a minute. You’re not going anywhere.”

  I tried my best to jerk out of his hold but he was too strong. “Stop,” I told him as I wiggled against his grip, but his fingers clamped around my arm extra tight.

  “Stop what?” Again with the good-natured smile. Like he wouldn’t harm a fly. People passed by us, oblivious to my struggle. They probably thought we were a father and daughter having a little squabble. “You’re overreacting. Just show me where the Sky Glider is. I can never find the entrance.”

  He let go of me before I said anything and for whatever reason, I didn’t run. Instead, I pointed toward the Sky Glider entrance again, though at least this time we were closer. “There are two,” I explained to him. “One on this side, and one on the other side of the park.”

  “Near the arcade?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah.” Run, Katie. Get away from this guy.

  “Show me the entrance over here.” When I started to protest he made a face, one that reminded me of a sad puppy dog. “Please? My wife and kids are waiting for me over there and I’m late. They probably already left me. I don’t want the wife mad at me, you know?”

  He had a family. How bad could he be? “But my friends . . .”

  “That line is forever long. You’ll be fine,” he said, brushing away my words. “It’ll take all of two minutes. Please?”

  I wanted to help him, but I couldn’t put the way he’d grabbed me out of my mind. That had been weird. But now he was so friendly . . . I was conflicted. I knew I shouldn’t talk to strangers, but I should help people, right? And this guy, with his wife and kids waiting for him, needed my help. “Come on,” I told him with a wave of my hand.