This Point Forward

by Katrina Abbott

  I glanced at my mother and she gave me a shake of her head that said: back off. It was unnecessary, but I nodded at her anyway, so she would know I was done. For today.

  When he was done rubbing at his anger, he looked up at me. It seemed he wasn’t quite finished making his point. “Someday, when you have kids of your own, you’ll understand why I want you close.”

  Great. The “Someday when you have kids” speech. I sighed, resigned to leave it for now because I didn’t need him to actually have the heart attack I’d told everyone at Rosewood that he’d suffered. Anyway, I still had some time; it was too late to make it back to school before the Christmas break, so I was working toward returning in the new year, which meant I had a week or so to convince him.

  “What happened to you at that school?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked warily, worried he was looking into my thoughts and knew I’d been thinking about getting back to Dave and how we’d never gotten a chance to redo that kiss. The one that had started off great, but went very wrong when he’d had the allergic reaction.

  “You’re different now. You’ve never been this committed to your school before.” He gave me a sideways glance. “What are you up to there?”

  I frowned. “Dad, you’re being paranoid. You saw my marks before I got pulled out of there. I was doing well, making friends. I finally felt like I was fitting in somewhere. I really liked it there and think it will prepare me for a good college.” I hoped stating facts wasn’t going to push him over the edge, but he had asked.

  “It’s a very respected school,” my mother said. I looked at her and gave her a grateful look, which I guess must have encouraged her to continue. “It certainly cost enough. And I appreciate that there are no boys there; she can concentrate on her studies and getting into a good college.”

  I nodded at Mom and gave Dad a very innocent look. “Exactly. I feel very focused.” I was keeping my GPA up, so there was no reason for them to worry about panty raids and sneaking out to bonfires and those sorts of things. They didn’t have to know about Dave and the other Westwood boys.

  He sighed. “I know you’re a good kid. I would send you back there if I could. It’s just too risky right now.”

  He had calmed down enough that I said, “But Robert can look out for me there and he said they were beefing up the security...”

  Dad shook his head. “He’s back at his training facility. He checked in that he left campus yesterday. That he was even at the school was a temporary thing while things heated up here. I should have brought you home then, but I was trying to stay focused. Please understand, honey,” he said, looking into my eyes, his voice going soft. “I would let you go back if I could. I just couldn’t bear to lose you. I need to keep you close right now so I can keep my head in the game.”

  My chest ached and I feared I was losing ground. I nodded.

  “Just think,” Mom said. “You’ll get to see all your friends from last year when you go back to your old school in January.

  What friends? I didn’t say out loud. Instead, I just gave Mom the best smile I could muster.

  “Uh...” Dad said.

  I didn’t like the sound of that. “What?”

  He shook his head. “You can’t go to a public school here. We’re going to have to home-school you.”

  Awesome. So no Rosewood, no boyfriend and now no outside contact or the chance at friends at all. “For how long?”

  He at least looked sympathetic when he said, “I don’t know. For the foreseeable future, at least.”

  I opened my mouth, but closed it again when I realized by the look on his face that he was done arguing.

  “Your mother can help with a lot of your schooling and we can get in some tutors for whatever she can’t handle.”

  Dad’s hand landed on my arm, causing me to look up at him. “I’m sorry. But we all have to make sacrifices to try to make the world a safer place.”

  It’s not like I could argue with that.

  On My Way To The Circus

  Since there wasn’t much else to do, Mom started with the homeschooling the next day. It was just a few days until Christmas, but she was so worked up about Robert not coming home for the holidays (and also trying to accept the whole thing about Robert being an agency protégé, which was as much news to her as it had been to me) she was desperate for a project. It may as well be me, she said.

  But I needed to get out at least once a day or I was going to succumb to that cabin fever thing and murder someone, so Dad agreed I could leave the flat under some very strict conditions.

  First, I had to vary my routine, which meant never going out at the same time and using different entrances and exits to our building. He said one of the reasons why he’d chosen this current flat (besides it being cleared by his agency and having a twenty-four hour security detail) was because it had several doors and a courtyard, so we could duck in and out without anyone who might be watching knowing exactly where we were going.

  He also said I had to stay within a ten block radius, and the most important part, I had to not look like me.

  That meant I’d gotten a haircut and color, courtesy of my mother (read: hack job on my now blond hair) and wore a ton of makeup and different clothes when I went out. I doubted even Robert would have recognized me if he’d seen me on the street. Though as I thought about it, I felt sad that he wasn’t coming home for Christmas—it would be our first one apart and as much as we gave each other a hard time, he was still my big brother and I loved him.

  I just hoped he hadn’t run roughshod over any hearts back at Rosewood. Emmie had seemed almost interested in him, but if I had to guess, it would have been Chelly who got her claws into him. I smiled as I jogged down the stairwell, eager to get outside and into some fresh air, thinking about my boisterous friend. God, I missed all the girls. Maybe I’d ask Dad if I could somehow send them messages on Christmas.

  I came out of the building into the dreary drizzle that was London in December, knowing sunshine was too much to hope for. But it was still outside and it wasn’t an isolated cabin in Switzerland, so I wasn’t about to complain.

  I walked down the block toward today’s Starbucks (because I had to alternate shops, as per Dad’s conditions; luckily there were several coffee shops in my ten block radius) and wondered what my friends were doing back at Rosewood. Then I remembered it was so close to Christmas that most of them would be gone off campus. Chelly and Celia would have left for their respective homes. Emmie was stuck at the school, but she’d probably be happy to have our dorm room to herself and quiet time alone to work on her e-commerce site. Having practically the whole school to herself sounded kind of fun, albeit maybe a bit lonely. Though based on what she’d told me of her family, she’d be happy not to spend the holidays with them.

  Kaylee was probably somewhere here in London with Declan, the thought of which made me very itchy to get a hold of him so I could meet up with them. Dad would lose his mind if I made that happen, so I dismissed that idea pretty quickly. Even though Declan now knew about my family since I’d traveled with him on his plane, Kaylee didn’t and the fewer people who knew, the better. Plus, more contact with Declan could put him at risk and that was the last thing I wanted.

  Dave had told me way back when that he was spending most of the holiday at home except for Christmas, which he’d spend with his grandparents in Manhattan, which was a big family tradition for the Davidsons. He’d almost hinted at me coming with him, but since we hadn’t even established that we were a couple then, I played dumb and didn’t bite.

  But as I thought of him wondering what was going on with me and worrying that I’d fallen off the planet since leaving while he was away, I felt so guilty and desperately wanted to check in with him. Finding a computer to use would be easy enough, but staying off the grid wouldn’t. I’d have to make up an e-mail address and then identify myself in it and if his account was being watched, I may as well pin a target to my back. Or his.

&nbs
p; I sighed at this and ducked into the Starbucks, ordered and waited for my latte (almost forgetting when they called out Angie that it was the name I’d given them) and continued down the street. I weaved my way through the busy throng of people toward Piccadilly Circus, my destination for today. It was one of my favorite places because I could sit on the fountain steps and people-watch. It was always busy with people: tourists taking pictures, business people grabbing lunch, kids like me just hanging out.

  As I walked, my legs feeling good at the exercise, I allowed myself to think of one more person I’d left behind at Rosewood. I usually didn’t let myself think about Brady, because when I did, I inevitably thought about those times when he’d been more than my equestrian coach. The day I’d first met him in the barn and thought he was just a sexy stable boy. The time he’d taken me to meet his horse, and inevitably, the kiss in the supply closet at the dance.

  Even with the damp, chill air around me, my face and body flushed at the memory of that kiss. Stop thinking about that, I told myself. You’re with Dave now. You can’t think about kissing other guys.

  Determined to put that kiss out of my head, I thought about his injury and wondered how he was doing and how his ankle was healing. If he’d be able to still go to the Olympics. They were still a year and a half away, but if he couldn’t train for months, what did that mean?

  I took a sip of my latte as I walked the last block to the Circus. I wondered how he was going to be spending his Christmas and wished I could send him a message and find out how he was doing, but of course that, too, would be impossible.

  Thoughts of his amber eyes and dark hair running through my mind, I glanced through a storefront window into a pub and my brain decided to play a cruel joke and make me think he was sitting right there. I stopped in my tracks, causing a woman behind me to bump into my back, muttering angrily. Under different circumstances I would have apologized, but I was unable to take my focus off the man in the pub. His hair was longer than Brady kept his, but the angles of his face were identical, at least from my vantage point on the street.

  My lungs constricted as my irrational heart wanted so badly for it to be him.

  He must have felt my eyes on him because he turned and looked at me. I stared back at him until I realized I was being totally creepy and obviously it wasn’t Brady who was a world away in the States, nursing a broken foot. He turned away from me and laughed when the man across from him said something.

  Just two English guys having lunch. I shook my head and continued on my way, suddenly feeling like maybe I was losing it a bit. Maybe getting some distance from my life at Rosewood was a good thing.

  At least, that’s what my head said.

  My heart had other ideas.

  ~ ♥ ~

  Want more? Buy MAKING RIPPLES!

  Also by Katrina Abbott

  The Rosewoods

  Taking The Reins

  Masquerade

  Playing The Part

  Reading Between The Lines

  This Point Forward

  Making Ripples

  Acting Out

  Hitting the Target

  Turning the Page

  Crossing the Line

  New Beginnings - The Rosewoods Series - Books 1 - 3

  Fresh Start: The Rosewoods Series Prequel

  The Rosewoods - Bonus Content

  I'll Never Forget

  Risking it All

  The Rosewoods Rock Star Series

  Along for the Ride

  Going on Tour

  Working for the Band

  Watch for more at Katrina Abbott’s site.