A Shade of Innocence (The Illuminati Book 1)

by Jane West

  I almost had my first kiss Saturday night by the most intriguing and hottest boy at school, and I wanted him to kiss me too. Instead, I went home mad as hell and very disappointed.

  Sam was not what I thought, the sleaze bag. Sally is in the no friend zone. Now Gina has reason to kill me. Stupid me! I should've stayed home.

  My Life Sucks!

  After scratching out my entry, I tossed my pen and diary down, frustrated. I dreaded tomorrow. I didn't have a clue how I was going to wiggle my way out of this love triangle with Sam and the infamous Gina. Crap! Stupid, despicable, gullible me! Why didn't I see Sam's conniving intent?

  Sally was the ringleader. She was the first on my list to hit up. That was if I survived the wrath of blondezilla. I flinched.

  Then my mind drifted back to the fair and the man in black. That vision seemed incredibly real. Was my imagination playing tricks on me? If so, that was one convincing trick, then. I shivered over the what-ifs that could've happened last night and the what-ifs that plagued my future. If the vision carried any clout, I might better consider getting a can of Mace spray. If a crazy man was stalking me, I needed protection.

  If I were a superstitious person, I'd think Sara and I had a dark cloud hanging over us. Sara had a knack for picking boyfriends that turned up dead. Of course, not everyone died, yet death seemed to follow us. It was freaky as hell.

  When we lived in South Dakota eight years ago, Sara had met someone that I thought she'd marry. Sara had gotten a job at a grocery market. Charles was her boss and owner of the store, Sack and Save.

  He was a giant of a man and had a potbelly to match, but his heart was gold. Charles had taken a shine to Sara, and she latched onto him quickly too. I didn't think she loved him, but he seemed to have grounded her. I liked Charles.

  We were starting to feel like a family again. It wasn't long before he'd become part of our lives. I loved every minute we spent with him. He took a genuine interest in both Sara and me. He just was a great guy.

  Then fate struck once again. One night, Sara had prepared dinner. We were waiting for Charles to arrive, although, dinner never came that evening nor did Charles.

  As a result, Sara sent me to bed early and hungry. As I lay in bed with my tummy growling, I recalled listening to angry voices late into the night. I assumed Sara was arguing with Charles.

  Before sunrise, with no explanation, and not much more than the shirts on our backs, we left Dakota never to return. After that night, Sara never uttered Charles' name again. I was ten, but I recalled that night like it was yesterday.

  It was not until years later that I'd discovered the truth. I stumbled onto an old shoebox, knocking it off the shelf with all its contents spilling out. Sara had kept newspaper clippings of Charles's death. The headline read in bold letters that his body was found in a heap of blood on his front doorstep. The mysterious crime had the detectives scratching their heads.

  I sat in Sara's closet, sobbing. I loved Charles, and it broke my heart that his life ended so violently. It seemed the good people in my life die, first my father and then Charles, who was next?

  When my eyes fluttered opened, it took me a moment to realize that I'd drifted off to sleep. The sky had taken on a beautiful golden hue, nearing sunset. It was getting late, and I wanted to catch Sara before her shift ended. I snatched up my belongings, shoving everything in my bag. I rushed on my bike heading back to town.

  I sat my bike up right under the sign, Mudbug Café. I'd made it just in time before the last bit of sun had dropped behind the horizon.

  The bell jingled as I pushed the door open. A quick breeze rushed through my hair as I headed for the back to the usual booth. Craning my head to see if Sara was still on her shift, I caught a peek of her blonde head through the opening to the kitchen. She was smiling at Francis. A pain struck. She had the face of a woman in love. A look I didn't recall ever seeing, not even a shared glimpse with my dad. That bothered me, a lot.

  Flopping down in the booth, I kept my eyes out for Francis. I hoped he'd stay in the kitchen and leave me alone.

  Feeling a little winded from the ride, I laid my head on the table. The coolness felt good against my face. I still felt sluggish from lack of a good night's sleep.

  Time had ticked only moments before I heard Sara coming. I popped my head up and caught her smiling. I smiled back. I was happy to see her in a good mood.

  “Well, well! The only time I ever see you is when you're hungry,” she snorted.

  Okay, sort of in a good mood.

  “I'm sorry. I'll start coming by more often.” I shrugged. The last thing I wanted was to get her riled. I decided to roll with the punches and keep my mouth shut. “Can I please get a chocolate shake and fries?”

  “You payin'?” She looked up from her pad, one irritated brow arched.

  I scoffed. “I suppose.” I held my gaze even with hers.

  She dropped her pad and pen on the table, leaning too close to my face and whispered, “I heard you had a date Saturday night. Is that right?”

  What was her problem?

  Last I heard, eighteen was legal. Besides, it wasn't like she cared what I did. “I went out but not on a date.” Not according to my standards, anyway.

  “I heard you were with a boy having sex! You better not go and get yourself knocked up expecting me to take care of you and your child!”

  I damn near choked on my own spit.

  “You heard lies,” I wailed.

  “Don't go screw things up for me!”

  Her words felt like a stab to my heart and my anger quickly surfaced.

  I bounced out of my seat and got right up in her face. “Then you haven't anything to worry about, Sara.” I hissed. “You've never troubled yourself before, why would I expect you to start now?” I spewed. “You're worried that I'm going to screw up your life!” I mocked, laughing in her face. “What about mine? You have ruined mine!” I screamed, fist to my side, flexing.

  Sara stepped back, eyes rounded, shoulders stiff and angry.

  “Get out!” She threw her arm out, pointing to the door. “Go home, you ungrateful bitch!” She threw the words at me like stones.

  It appeared to me that Sara didn't care whether she hurt me or not.

  “Fine,” I bit out, sharply. I stalked past Sara, colliding my shoulder into hers, making her almost lose footing.

  Almost.

  All eyes were on me as I rushed for the door, but what stopped me in my tracks were two blue eyes that I would've known anywhere. Damn! Of all people, Aidan Bane had to rear his head in this diner, and he wasn't alone. I recognized the girl from school. She clung to him like gravy on fried chicken. She appeared wasted, fumbling on her feet.

  Our eyes hitched, and a glimmer of sorrow flickered in his blues for a second and then I looked away. My spat with Sara was more than humiliating. It was mortifying!

  I darted out the café, my eyes set on my bike. A deflated feeling twisted my stomach. I was angry with myself for my embarrassment.

  Reaching for my bike, I felt fingers clasping my upper arm. I swung around expecting Sara but I was startled to see Bane.

  “Are you, all right?” His eyes brimmed with concern.

  I raked my fingers through my hair. My breath came out in harsh puffs. I felt as if someone had poured gasoline on me and set me on fire. “I don't know,” I bit out pointedly. I couldn't look him in the eye. I stared down at my feet.

  “Let me take you out of here.” He began gently rubbing my upper arms, no longer holding me captive.

  “What about your date?” I pointed to his companion. The girl had just staggered outside, leaning against the glass window. I was right. She was plastered.

  His lips twisted. “Not my date, my cousin's. He dumped the girl on me after he liquored her up. I called my butler to come take her home. We're waiting on him now.” His blues were more vibrant under the amber of dusk.

  “Really?”

  “Cross my heart.” His face lit up, smiling.
>
  “She seems awfully friendly like a girlfriend.” I eyed him suspiciously. Even still, I wanted to believe him.

  He leaned in, flashing his dimples. His dark hair fell over his collar in loose curls. “Hmm, I'm not fond of the impaired.”

  “That's good to know, but I'm not sure I should leave with you. I don't want to add her to my list of pissed off females.”

  He touched his finger to his mouth. I suspected he was stifling a laugh. “If so, I will defend your honor, I promise.” He tossed a glance over his shoulder and back at me. “See!” He nodded. “Here's Jeffery now, my butler.” His brow arched. “I'll be right back! Don't move.” He tossed a quick smile and hurried off to the girl's side. I watched as he held the door open, and she slid in the back seat. He closed the door as the black limo pulled out and headed down the street.

  I mumbled to myself, “Yep, he has a butler.”

  In seconds, Bane was standing by my side. “See, now it's just you and me.”

  “I better not.” I bit back my tears. “My mother wouldn't approve. I'm sure you heard our argument.” I pulled my hair back off my shoulders and shuffled my feet. The sting of her words was still raw.

  Unexpectedly, his fingers curved under my chin, forcing me to gaze into his face. “You didn't deserve that.” His eyes were gentle.

  Then I remembered our last encounter, and a glower fell over my face. “Why the sudden change?” I rested my hands on my hips, staring him in the eye.

  “Change?” His brow bounced upward as he dropped his hand.

  “Yeah! At the Firefly nest,” I shook my head. “You did a one-eighty on me. Not my favorite moment.”

  “Oh, that.” He rubbed his bristled chin. “It appears that my urgent need for apologies is exponentially growing.” His smile deepened with dimples.

  “You think?” I folded my arms, not falling for his schoolboy's charm. “I don't know. Between my mom and your mood swings, I might want to pass.”

  “I'm sorry! Let me make it up to you.”

  He probably could talk a person over a ledge. His voice was deep and dusty.

  “You're going to have to come up with a better explanation than that.” My eyes narrowed.

  He inhaled a sharp breath. “It made me uneasy realizing your innocence.”

  I raised a brow. “So you thought insulting me would help?”

  Placing his hand on his chest, he spoke, “I behaved terribly. Can you please forgive me for my abominable behavior?” With those pleading blues, he could've been an ax murderer, and I would've opened my door and invited him in.

  I blew out a sigh, teetering on whether or not I should give him a second chance. “Where can we go?” My eyes kept shifting to the café's entrance. I expected Sara to come charging out any minute.

  “There's another restaurant just down the road.” He leaned in next to my ear and whispered, “The food's much tastier.” When he lifted his head, his blues were dancing with mischief.

  “I have my bike.” I shoved my hands in my pockets.

  “I'll get your bike, then.”

  Clearly, he liked taking charge.

  “I guess.” I let out a long sigh. If Sara were pissed over a rumor, what would she do when she actually saw me climb into a car with a boy? I mean, she couldn't miss it. Bane had parked his car right in front of the café. Not a lotta folks around here drove a Corvette. She was sure to notice.

  Once we were in the car, Bane reached over, grabbing my seatbelt. Unmindful, our eyes locked and we both stilled.

  I bit my bottom lip, not daring to breathe. Why didn't he finish buckling me, already?

  “Your eyes,” he softly whispered, “Remind me of a meadow. They're such a scintillating green.” A hushed smile toyed with the corners of his lips. Then he drew in a sharp breath and finished buckling my seatbelt. We were off in the next breath. Or I should say his breath, I still was holding mine.

  We pulled into a vacant lot of an establishment that looked condemned. A rusty sign hung reading, Beans and Cornbread. It wasn't much more than a dilapidated shack. I didn't get it. Bane and this place just didn't match. I reckoned I was up for whatever. I liked beans and cornbread. I just didn't see him liking it.

  After cutting off the engine, Bane slipped me a sideways glance. “You'll like this place. It's fun.” He flashed his dimples, jumping out of the car.

  “Oh, okay.” I really didn't care. Any place other than Sara's presence would be more than suffice for me.

  In a flash, Bane had my door open, smiling down at me. “Come on! You'll love this place.” He smiled, taking my hand.

  We entered the joint and it took me a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimness. Candle light flickered in the small diner. We were the only ones here other than a waitress and a dude in the back wearing a stained white apron.

  The place was as rustic as its exterior. Bare wood, no paint, pictures of men with fish hung on the walls and other odd décor. You know, three men in a tub kind of stuff. “Is a booth all right with you,” Bane asked.

  “Sure.” I shrugged.

  Bane led the way, still holding my hand. It was nice. This felt different from Sam, and whether I wanted to admit it or not, I kind of liked Bane.

  We settled in a booth, cozy with a candle sitting in the center of the table. It took me back to last night with Ms. Noel. I suddenly felt the urge to look over my shoulder.

  It was no time before the waitress greeted us. “Hello, there handsome,” she greeted Bane. Apparently, they knew each other pretty well.

  He stood up, hugging the woman. The waitress was older, in her mid-twenties, give or take a few. “Hey, beautiful! How's that husband of yours?”

  “He's much better thanks to you.” She grinned.

  “It was nothing. Glad to help.” Bane's eyes glimmered as he settled back down into the booth.

  “Well, what will you have today?”

  “Bring us two Cokes and the lady hasn't decided yet on what to eat. We'll need a moment.”

  “No problem. I'll be right back with your drinks, Mr. Bane.” She smiled patting him on his shoulder. The waitress spun on her heels and disappeared to the back.

  Bane focused back to me. “Her husband had been laid off his job. I'm their landlord or I should say my parents are. I manage it for my parents while they're out of the country. Anyway, I referred her husband to a local farmer I knew who was hiring. That's all.” He quieted a minute, keeping his eyes on me. “How are you?”

  I looked away. For a minute, I'd forgotten the big scene with Sara. “Okay, I guess.” I really didn't want to talk about it.

  “Does your mother treat you like that often?” He was studying me as if I was a charity case.

  “It's life, right?” I shrugged.

  “Not necessarily. Your mother is deplorable.”

  “Did you bring me here to feel sorry for me?” His pity was the last thing I wanted.

  “I'm sorry.” His tone had a degree of warmth and empathy. “I don't mean to pry.”

  “It's okay. My mother is bi-polar, and when she's off her meds, which is pretty much most of the time, she can be difficult.” I pressed my lips together in frustration.

  “Oh, is that what they're calling it these days.” His lips twisted into a cynical frown.

  “Why do you say that?” I detected an irritation in his tone.

  “I apologize. Of course, you're right. Mental illness is nothing to joke about”

  Why did I get the impression that he knew something I didn't know about Sara?

  “Can we talk about something else?” I didn't want to spend the rest of the evening discussing Sara and her troubles, especially with Bane.

  “Sure! Are you hungry?” He grinned back with no trace of his former animosity.

  “Not really.” I shrugged.

  “Come on, eat something. I hate eating alone.” He winked. “I'll order for you.”

  “So what is so special about this place?” My eyes washed over the rustic diner.

&
nbsp; “Apart from the company,” he half smiled. “The food is fantastic. Have you ever eaten mudbugs?”

  “No, I haven't.” My cheeks slightly blushed.

  “Unlike other diners, this place actually has the real deal.” He smiled.

  I was pretty sure the pun was intended. I didn't mind.

  The waitress returned with our drinks and Bane ordered a huge helping of mudbugs with the works.

  When the waitress left, Bane turned back to me. “Apart from its rough nature, it's a cool place. Food's good, folks are friendly, and they have lots of beer.”

  “Beer!” My brow perked. “Are you twenty-one?” I had to admit, he didn't act nor did he look like a teenager. His whole demeanor screamed adult. Maybe money matured a person.

  “I'm special.”

  I laughed, “Yeah, right!”

  An impish grin stretched his lips.

  “Where are you from? I hear you're new too.” I was mildly curious why he came to this dump.

  “Hmm, I was born in Marseille France. My family and I moved to the States when I was an infant, though, I don't really claim any particular place. I've traveled the world, Europe, the Middle East.” He folded his hands, elbows on the table.

  Beautiful hands, I noted, strong and manicured. I glimpsed down at my hands and all of a sudden, I ducked them under the table. Self-conscious of myself was not my intentions, but let's be real, why was he spending time with me? I was the girl on the wrong side of the bayou. Suddenly I had to ask. “What are you doing?”

  “Pardon me?” His dark brows darted upward.

  “What are we doing here, you and me?”

  His mouth curved into an unconscious smile. “We're having a nice meal.”

  “No, I mean why the nice guy now?”

  “Do I have to have a reason?”

  “I guess not.” I fiddled with my straw. “I just… I just don't get why you want to hang out with me is all.”

  “I don't know.” He shrugged. “I suppose I became concern with your welfare. It's hard for me to let anyone in my world, and when I looked into that angelic face of yours, it gave me pause. You're so young and inexperienced.”

  “My face is angelic,” I murmured. Did I hear him correctly?