Secrets of Redemption Box Set

by Michele Pariza Wacek

“Maybe,” Mia said as I returned and handed her a Coke.

  I wanted to strangle CB. He knew my parents would never stand for my Redemption friends staying with them. Could this night get any worse?

  “It would be so much fun to show you the Big Apple,” CB said. “Becca, where do you think we should start?”

  “CB, stop,” I said.

  “I was thinking we start in Soho, maybe for brunch at that one place, what’s the name? I can’t believe I can’t remember the name—we were just there a few months …”

  “I said stop,” I yelled.

  The table went completely quiet as everyone stared at me.

  “God, Becca,” CB said. “What’s your problem?”

  I leaned across the table, acutely aware of Daniel’s eyes on me, which made everything even worse. Daniel knew exactly why I was upset because we had talked about this exact thing the night of the bonfire.

  I thought Daniel had understood. I thought we had shared a moment. I was excited when he asked to see me the next day.

  But then he stood me up.

  I was such a fool.

  I felt my face flush with shame, embarrassment and anger. Especially anger. How dare CB put me in this position?

  “You know what my problem is,” I hissed.

  CB’s eyes were like shiny black pebbles. Snake eyes. A cold finger of fear trailed down my spinal column. I sucked in my breath and found myself wanting to take a step back, away from those suddenly inhuman eyes. “Other than you being a bitch, no, I don’t.”

  “What is wrong with you?” I burst out. CB had never, EVER, said anything even remotely that awful to me before. His mouth twisted into an ugly sneer, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to slap him or run as far away as possible from him. “You know my parents. You know what they would say if I ...”

  My voice trailed off when my words sunk in. I looked around, blinking in confusion as I realized I was standing and pointing at CB. I didn’t even know when I had gotten to my feet.

  “What, Becca?” Jessica asked. “What would they say? Are you saying your parents wouldn’t like us?”

  God. This was a nightmare. I was mortified. CB knew my family and knew it would be a disaster, and here he was, setting me up to be the bad guy—making me be the one to tell them no. How could he do this to me?

  With a wordless cry, I grabbed my drink and ran out the door, the punch sloshing over one side of the cup.

  I just wanted to find a quiet spot in the woods to have a good cry.

  “Becca, wait.” I heard the voice behind me, but I ignored it, running across the backyard, past Aunt Charlie’s big, beautiful garden I had spent so many happy hours in, past the fire still blazing in the pit, and into the woods.

  Almost as soon as I hit the path, I slowed down. It was darker than I expected, especially coming from Aunt Charlie’s backyard lit by a full moon and roaring fire. The trees seemed to swallow me up, their dark branches reaching out for me. I stumbled, sloshing more of my drink out of my glass, and paused to chug half of it down. The woods seemed to lurch in front of me. Had I drunk more than I realized?

  “Becca, wait.” There was a commotion of footsteps and crunching branches and leaves as Daniel emerged behind me on the path. I groaned. The last person I wanted to see.

  “Go away,” I yelled, whirling around and running down the path. Branches reached out to scratch my face, and I threw my arm up to protect myself. An owl shrieked nearby, startling me, and I nearly tripped on the uneven path.

  Daniel said something, but I didn’t hear it as I ran smack into a tree trunk, the impact knocking me to the ground. For a moment, I just sat there, gasping for breath and feeling completely disoriented, my eyes spilling over with tears. The wet, woodsy smell of moss and bark was smothering me. The owl shrieked again.

  “Are you okay?” There he was again, kneeling next to me, his face pale in the dark. He was so close, I could smell the beer on his breath. He reached out to touch my face, but I jerked away.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re bleeding.”

  I put my hand on my forehead and it came away wet and warm. “It’s probably nothing,” I said. “Head wounds always bleed a lot.”

  “You’re crying,” he said, his voice gentler. “Is it painful?”

  I dashed a hand across my cheeks. Crap. He was the last person I wanted to cry in front of. “No, it’s just ... the shock, I guess. Of hitting the tree.”

  “Let me help you,” he said, grasping my arm, but I snatched it away. This was so embarrassing. Why wasn’t he taking the hint?

  “I don’t need your help,” I said. “I’m fine.” All that was really hurt was my pride. I just wanted him to go away so I could have a good cry in peace.

  He sat back on his heels, slapping his neck where, presumably, a mosquito landed. “Why are you being like this? I’m trying to help.”

  I gaped at him. “I can’t believe this. You treat me like crap and you wonder why I don’t want your help?”

  His eyes widened. “Me? What about what you did?”

  “What are you, like, five? That’s your answer? ‘No, you did it.’” I said, my voice high and mocking.

  “I’m just being honest. It’s not my fault if you don’t like the answer.”

  “Bite me,” I said, disgustedly. “Just go away, Daniel. Go back to your girlfriend.”

  “My girlfriend?” Daniel asked, sounding puzzled. “Are you talking about Deb?”

  “Whatever. I don’t care. I’m sure she’d be happy to see you.”

  “How do you even know about Deb?” he asked.

  “Really? That’s what you’re concerned about?” I closed my eyes, covering my face with my hands. My head ached, and the world was spinning. “My head hurts too much to have this conversation right now.”

  “Then let me help you back to the house.”

  “No! I don’t want to go back there, and I don’t want your help.”

  “Fine,” he yelled back, stumbling a bit as he got to his feet and lurching down the path.

  I listened to him thrashing his way out of the woods, tears coursing down my cheeks.

  I’m not sure how long I sat there crying before finally dragging myself to my feet. All I wanted to do was go back to the house, crawl into bed, and never get up. But what if everyone was still there? There was no way I could face them. I was sick with shame and embarrassment. It’s not you, I wanted to tell them. It’s my family.

  Even to myself, it sounded lame. I wouldn’t believe me either.

  How do I even begin to explain what a snob my mother was, and how much she hated the fact that I loved my time in Redemption? I loved it so much that a part of me had even played with the idea of staying in the fall instead of returning to New York but I was fairly certain my mother would never let that happen.

  Now I couldn’t wait to leave.

  I scrubbed my face, wiping the tears away, slapping a few mosquitos in the process. I was blessed to be one of the lucky ones who wasn’t normally bothered by mosquitos but being in the woods at night was clearly pushing my luck. There were always fewer mosquitos in Aunt Charlie’s yard, probably because she spent a lot of time and energy attracting and encouraging a healthy bat and barn swallow population.

  My face felt like it was cracking under a layer of dirt and pine needles. My hair was sticky and knotted with something as well. Was it blood? How did I get blood in my hair? Did I hit the back of my head, too? I couldn’t remember. All I knew was that I felt grubby and disgusting. I couldn’t wait to take a shower and crawl into bed.

  But first, I had to make sure everyone had left.

  Stumbling slightly as the world dipped and twirled in front of me, I started down the path. I was pretty sure it curved around and led to the street in front of Aunt Charlie’s house. That way I could count the cars out f
ront without having to talk to anyone.

  Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any there to count. Then I would just have to avoid CB, which shouldn’t be too difficult.

  Puddles of moonlight lit the path, but tree branches still seemed to come out of nowhere. Something swooped near my head. A bat? It must be a bat, but it seemed ... bigger, somehow.

  A LOT bigger.

  Maybe it had just grown fat on all the mosquitos. Or, maybe it was that owl. Never mind that I had never heard of an owl swooping so close to a person.

  It had to be a bat.

  I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, keeping my arms slightly outstretched to protect my face, but something didn’t seem right. It was taking a lot longer than I remembered to get back. Was I on the right path? There were a few that started near Aunt Charlie’s backyard. One was closer to our neighbor’s cornfield. No, I couldn’t have run that far down the yard.

  Or ... had I?

  I couldn’t remember.

  The more I walked, the darker and less familiar it seemed to get, although the moonlight did what it could to light my way. Small animals skittered in the dry leaves just outside of the path and the owl hooted again. Wait a second. Was that two times I heard the owl? Or three?

  Didn’t superstition dictate that three hoots meant someone close to me was about to die?

  Another bat flew at my head and I ducked but not before seeing something glinting on its face.

  Something that caught the moonlight.

  Like ... teeth. Fangs. In a wide-open mouth.

  Wait. Did bats have teeth? Well, they must. They had to eat bugs somehow.

  But ... those teeth seemed way too big for a bat.

  My heart started beating frantically in my chest as I struggled to get air into my lungs. I had to get it together. Of course, it was a bat. What else could it be?

  I forced myself to keep going—the smartest thing was to get out of the woods. I took another two steps forward before stopping dead in my tracks.

  I wasn’t alone. I could feel it.

  Oh God.

  I peered around, trying to hear over the harsh sounds of my breath. The woods were silent—nothing stirred. It seemed like I was alone.

  But I couldn’t shake the crawling sensation between my shoulder blades of being watched—of eyes staring at me.

  The trees seemed to close in on me, their branches stretched across the path like long limbs … their claw-like hands reaching out to snag my clothes and trap me here forever ...

  Stop it! I had to pull myself together. I wasn’t lost in some creepy, fairytale-like forest. These are the woods next to my aunt’s house! I played here as a child. I just needed to get my bearings and then I could find my way back to the house.

  Except ... I couldn’t. I couldn’t get my bearings. Nothing looked right. It was like I had wandered into some sort of nightmare forest.

  This was insane. What did I think, I had gone through some time-traveling wormhole? I just needed to take a few deep breaths and relax and then I could surely find my way out.

  But what if something HAD followed me out here? What if the same darkness I had been sensing in the house was now in the woods with me ... keeping me from finding my way back ... just waiting for me to let down my guard, so it could pounce and never let me go ...

  Panic rose inside me like bile, thick and sour, and I started running down the path. I had to get out. I couldn’t stand being here for even one more minute.

  Twigs scratched my face, my neck, my hands, but I fought them off. No way was I letting them catch me. No way.

  I tripped over a log and slammed into a tree trunk, landing with a thud on the ground. For a moment, I could only lie there, dazed and discombobulated.

  What on earth was happening to me?

  I knew these woods. There was nothing scary out here. This was just me letting my imagination run away from me. And, if I wanted to get out of the woods, I needed to get myself under control ...

  A twig snapped.

  I jerked my head around, straining to see, straining to hear over my gasping, frantic breaths. Then I saw it—something WAS over there! It was coming now, closer and closer. I could hear it crashing toward me, definitely bigger than a rabbit or a squirrel. Maybe it was a deer. Oh God, please be a deer. Or Daniel, coming back for me. Be anything other than the darkness in the house coming to eat me with those sharp, shiny teeth ...

  I was so hysterical with fear that it took me a moment to realize that I was also hearing a whole lot of swearing.

  Just then, someone burst through the trees and tripped over me.

  “Oof,” a female voice exclaimed as she tumbled into me, painfully knocking my shoulder into an exposed tree root.

  “Ouch,” I yelled, and found myself coughing on a mouthful of lace and perfume. “That hurt. Get off of me!”

  “Becca?” A muffled voice asked as I spat the material out of my mouth and unwound myself. Something squished beneath my hand, and I tried not to think about what it might be.

  I got myself into a sitting position and squinted into the misty shadows. I could just make out the pale-pink lump in front of me.

  “Jessica? What are you doing out here?”

  Jessica sat up awkwardly. “I’m going home,” she said, like it should be completely obvious as to why she’d be out in the woods in the middle of the night. She spat something out of her mouth, and I noticed her lipstick had smeared down her chin.

  I blinked. “But ... this isn’t how you get to your house.”

  She shot me a look as she slowly and deliberately tried to brush the twigs and leaves out of her hair. I could smell the booze mixed with her sweat and perfume, and it began to sink in that she was really drunk.

  “I’m going home,” she said again, slurring her words.

  “Okay,” I said cautiously. “We’ll go home.”

  I got myself to my feet and reached over to help Jessica up. It was more difficult than it should have been considering how slender she was. When I finally got her upright, she wobbled, and my heart sank. How on earth was I going to get her home in this condition?

  This was going to be fun.

  “This way,” I said, hoping I was right. At least the woods felt less threatening now with company. I took her arm and started to steer her but she violently jerked away.

  “No,” she yelled and would have fallen backward if I hadn’t caught her. “That’s the way to your house.”

  Oh thank God, I thought. I hoped she was right. On the other hand, I was talking to someone headed in the exact opposite direction of where she really wanted to go, so maybe it wasn’t wise to trust her instincts.

  “That’s the way we have to go,” I said patiently. “We have to go back to my house first and then we’ll get you home.”

  She was already shaking her head. “No! I don’t want to go back there.”

  “But, that’s the only way to get you home. You live on the other side of town.”

  “No. it’s this way,” she said, turning in the opposite direction.

  “Jessica, you can’t get home that way. That’s the wrong direction,” I said.

  “No, it’s not,” she said stubbornly.

  I was tempted to just let her go—let her wander around by herself in the dark. Maybe that would finally get it through her thick, drunk head that she couldn’t get to her house the way she wanted to go. Maybe then she’d be willing to listen to me.

  But no. What if she really hurt herself? She was so drunk. It was too dangerous. I had to try again to talk some sense into her.

  Besides, I felt a lot safer with her then I did alone.

  “Jessica, I know a shortcut to your house,” I said.

  She clumsily brushed a few strands of hair out of her mouth, hitting her nose more than her mouth, and gave me a distrust
ful look. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. It’s this way.”

  “But ...” she looked down the path, then at me. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “That’s how we get to YOUR house.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s a shortcut to yours.”

  “I ... I don’t think that’s right.” But she didn’t look totally unconvinced either.

  “Let’s just try it and see,” I said. “Let me show you.”

  Her head swung forward and back as she searched both paths. “Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll go this way. But only if we don’t see that asshole.”

  “Asshole? Who are you talking about?”

  Jessica muttered under her breath.

  My first thought was Daniel, and I wanted to ask her how she knew he had stood me up. But, before I could open my mouth, I remembered the fight in the yard.

  “Are you talking about Rich?”

  She gave me an exasperated look. “Duh.”

  Christ. Is that why she didn’t want to go back to the house? Because she didn’t want to run into Rich?

  “Okay, deal. No Rich. Let’s go.”

  Still she hung back. “He’s an asshole. I hate him.”

  “I get it. Rich is an asshole. I don’t want to see him either. And if we do see him, I’ll get rid of him for you. Okay?”

  She paused. “Really?”

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to shake her. “Yes. Really. Rich is an asshole. You never have to see him again. I’ll tell him you hate him, and he has to leave. Okay? Can we go now?”

  My voice had been getting louder and louder in my frustration. The louder I got, the more Jessica shrank away from me. “You don’t have to shout,” she muttered. “I’m right here.”

  “Sorry,” I said, forcing myself to lower my voice. I took her arm. “Ready to go?”

  She muttered something else, but came willingly as I led her forward in what I hoped was the right direction.

  I heard a twig snap. Oh God, was it that … darkness? I jerked my head around, trying to focus my vision, and nearly knocked Jessica over.

  “Hey,” she complained stumbling forward. “Watch it.”

  “Sorry,” I said again, still trying to strain my eyes through the trees. Was that a shadow over there? Or was it just my imagination?