A Shade of Innocence (The Illuminati Book 1)

by Jane West

  “It's, 'Don't shoot the messenger'.” I glared at her. “Get the cliché right.”

  “Sorry to hurt your feelings.” She shrugged. “I didn't know you like Aidan?”

  “Don't be coy. Why else would you be so hell bent in telling me?”

  A woman and a small child passed us, pushing a buggy full of groceries. Sally paused as she waited for the woman to pass from earshot. Then she cut her eyes back to me. “I thought you might wanna know that your beau is messin' around with Gina.”

  “Wait! A minute ago, you said you didn't know. Which one is it, Sal?”

  “Well, it's kind of obvious the way you look at him.”

  “So, you tell me this, why?” I held my palm up. “You know, never mind.”

  “Gina told me not to trust you.” Spite ripped from Sally's mouth.

  “I gotta go!”

  I swiftly pushed off on my bike, leaving Sally standing with her pursed lips. She and Gina deserved each other. They should start their own network, the BBB Association, Busy-Body-Bitches.

  By the time I reached Ms. Noel's house, my anger had turned into wracking sobs. I couldn't believe I'd nearly slept with him yesterday.

  I dropped my bike by the curve in front of Ms. Noel's house and snatched up her grocery sacks. By the time I had my fist raised to knock, she'd opened the door. Her brows were dark with worry. “What's wrong, Babee? Are ya hurt?”

  I wiped my soaked cheeks with the back of my hand. “Not in the physical sense.” I burst into tears once more and shrugged.

  “Aw, Babee, come 'ere!” That was all she had to say for me to fall into her warm, consoling arms.

  Ms. Noel somehow managed to get me inside, settled me down on the couch and fixed a cup of hot chamomile tea for me. After my second cup, my pulse simmered down. “Thank you, Ms. Noel.” I smiled even though I didn't feel like it.

  “Babee, ya know I'm a good listener if ya wanna talk.” Ms. Noel sat in the rocker next to the couch. Quiet settled in the air for a minute as her worrisome eyes stayed fix on me.

  “I know.” My brows collided from another bout of tears. “I was talking to a girl from school, Sally. She's not exactly a friend,” I inhaled a long sigh, “Anyway she fed me some news that didn't set well with me.”

  “And this has you upset?”

  “Yep!” I tilted my head back against the couch, lifting my gaze to the ceiling. “My life has its fair amount of problems, but since I've met this boy, my troubles have escalated.”

  “How's so, Catin?” Ms. Noel's brows drew down into a triangle of confusion.

  “For starters, he's my landlord.” I shrugged dismissively. “Well, his parents are the owners.”

  “Oh mercy, that is complicated! I called my nephew and he has yet ta get back ta me. I wanted ta ask him about that.”

  “That's not the worst. I heard he's dating another girl.”

  “Catin, it sounds like you really like this young man.”

  “I wish it were that easy,” I spat out with a bitter bite.

  “What do ya mean?”

  “I am inept when it comes to boys. I mean, I've never felt this way before over any boy before. I had a crush on a boy back home but we never dated.”

  “Aw, Catin, ya supposed ta be inexperience at your young age.”

  “Ms. Noel, most kids my age have at least kissed, among a few other things.”

  “Chile, don't fret over this boy. If he can't see how special ya are then he doesn't deserve ya.” Ms. Noel reached over and gently squeezed my hand reassuring me.

  My lips stretched into a barbed smile. “Bane admitted he doesn't like me. He also made it clear that he never settles down with one girl.” I threw my arms over my closed eyes. “It just bothers me when I find out that he's dating a girl I can't stand.”

  “Maybe I should have a talk with this young man. He sounds like a low-down rascal,” Ms. Noel chimed heatedly.

  For a second, I stared at my hands, smiling inwardly. It was nice having someone care. With a ragged sigh, I lifted my eyes to Ms. Noel. “That's why I don't get why I like him. I'm not into silver spoon boys.”

  “Babee, the heart is treacherous, and it can lead us astray. You're not the first to have a heart broken over a boy. There'll be better days!” Her faded blues gleamed, “Just don't do anything foolish.”

  I smiled inwardly. Awkward, embarrassing, sweet and loving came to mind. “There's something else that's gnawing at me.”

  “What is it, Babee?”

  “I haven't been myself lately.” I quieted a moment to gather my thoughts. “My memories have holes, days missing that I cannot recall. It troubles me.” I sighed with a sharp nod. “When I slipped and fell, I reckon I must've hit my head harder than I thought. My brain keeps drawing a blank. I have patched memories.”

  “That is strange. Let me see if any herbs might help ya.” She reached for my cup as she gathered to her feet. “Ya want some more tea, Babee?”

  “I'm good. Thanks. I need to head home.” I gathered to my feet.

  “Okay, Babee.” Her eyes orbed. “Oh, wait! I prepared ya some dinner.” Before I could reply, Ms. Noel had headed off to the kitchen, returning with a large brown sack, a tradition well known in the south. I smiled to myself.

  “You're my guardian angel.” I reached in and kissed her lightly on the cheek, hugging her tightly.

  “No, Chile. I'm family,” she smiled brightly, though her pearly dentures were missing today. I smiled back.

  * * *

  A storm had rolled in bringing ominous clouds. Thunder rumbled with fury, shattering against the windowpane and lightning streaked across the bruised heavens. Sheets of rain pounded the house.

  I never liked thunderstorms, and this one was no exception.

  I finally gave up and closed my math book. I wanted to kick myself for slacking on my schoolwork. I was behind, and it kept growing. For some reason, I couldn't remember some of the formulas to my math lessons. Holes, more holes in my brain. I rubbed my temples as if that was going to make my memories return.

  I climbed out of bed and went downstairs. Coffee sounded good. I headed for the kitchen. I fixed a whole pot and poured myself a cup. Then I sat in solitude at the small table by the window watching the rain.

  Coffee was probably the worst thing to have before bedtime, but with the crazy weather tonight, I imagined I wouldn't be getting much sleep anyhow.

  I stared out the window, wondering if I should take stock in Sally's claim. It didn't matter any longer. I'd decided to cut ties with Bane. Somehow, I'd find a way to pay rent myself rather than accept his charity.

  Then an idea struck. Bane might be deducting the rent and utilities from Sara's paycheck. Maybe Sara wasn't lying; maybe she was working for the Bane's after all.

  No point worrying about it now, Sara was predictable to a fault. Meaning, when she tired of this place, we'd be shoving off to the next hellhole. I sighed, shaking my head. The only thing holding me up from leaving was Ms. Noel and Jen.

  Apart from everything else, I had more daunting problems to fret about to last me a lifetime. My memories over the last few days seemed to have left me, and in its place, fear resided.

  Since my accident, my mind hadn't been the same. It felt packed with cobwebs. Bane claimed he'd found me collapsed on the floor by my locker in a pool of blood, yet it didn't feel true. Why, I couldn't say.

  I decided to crawl back in bed with a good book, hoping that would relax me. Dressed in Bugs Bunny pajamas, I slipped in under the covers with one of my favorite books, To Kill a Mocking Bird, a classic by Harper Lee.

  I'd only read a few pages before I drifted off to sleep. It wasn't a peaceful sleep, quite the opposite. The same haunting dream that had chased me since my dad died returned with a vengeance.

  I smiled at the cute boy, and he smiled back, taking my hand. Strange, I thought. I could only see his smile. His facial features were blurred.

  When I glimpsed away, my breath caught. Deep male voices hummed in
my ears. The words were unclear, but it sounded like chanting. Their voices rose and dropped in a congruous psalm. A constant drip echoed in the hollow. I assumed it was water.

  The boy turned to me, tugging at my arm. His lips moved like a silent movie. Void of sound. I strained to listen, still unable to make out his words.

  The boy lashed out, his fingers bit deeply into the flesh of my arm, forcing me to follow. I cried out in pain, yelling at him to let go. Ignoring my cries, he dragged me down a dark corridor. I'd angered him, I sensed. Fright touched my spine.

  In a blink, I found myself standing alone. The faceless boy had vanished. I turned around to seek an exit and froze. The same men in crimson robes with hands clasped standing in a circle of twelve. An unassailable wave of confusion came over me. “Where was the thirteenth member,” I murmured to myself.

  An unfamiliar nudge urged me forward into the light. I stepped from the shadows, and as my gaze dropped, I realized I was wearing a bright red robe.

  I gasped, startled. Hurriedly, I shrugged off the cloak until one of the men touched my shoulder.

  I jolted from his cold, clammy palm.

  In my past dreams, the robed men never interacted with me. Like a ghost, I was invisible. As a dread washed over me, I realized now that the dreams had changed.

  Similar to the faceless boy, the robed man's face was a dark blur of movement. The robed man waved for me to go first. I complied with trepidation. The blur-faced man gently placed his hand on the small of my back, urging me to join the circle. Another man in a robe stepped up, extending his hand. I stepped up to the circle of twelve men. I made the circle complete, the thirteenth robe.

  My eyes fell upon a huge gold throne sitting on a platform. It took me back to the medieval times, where kings sat on thrones. I spied symbols or drawings etched deep into the stone right above the altar. I recognized the pyramid with an eye centered on top. That very same eye, I'd seen on the dollar bill.

  The men began kneeling, bowing their heads. Confused about what to do, I shot a startled glance at the man who brought me to the circle, yet when my gaze lifted, the faceless boy stood in his place, wearing a crimson robe too.

  Though his face remained out of focus, my eyes drew to his dimpled smile. A reflection of something shimmered in the corner of my eye. My gaze dropped to his hand. Just as I'd expected, I spotted the same ring from all the other dreams, diamonds lining an eye.

  The faceless boy leaned over and whispered garbled words in my ear. I smiled to myself. A tingling of excitement raced through me as his fingers trailed sensuously down my arm. Slowly, he raised my hand to his lips. I instinctively flinched. His affections startled me.

  The faceless boy's brows drew together into a frown. He became incensed. Shouting words at me, though only, his lips moved.

  Snapping my upper arm roughly, he forced me to take his hand. I shivered under his heated glower and followed his wishes.

  Within the next handful of seconds, a blinding light flashed and my surroundings morphed into something unrecognizable.

  I saw an outline of an unusually tall man. I couldn't see his face. Unlike the other blurred faces, he hid in the shallows.

  An acidic frost raked down my spine. I didn't understand what was happening. Frantically, my eyes combed over the crimson robes as their chins tilted upward as though they were praying.

  “What is going on,” I mumbled.

  A sudden hush wafted throughout the darkened chamber. I held my breath waiting for the dark silhouette to step into the shallow light.

  When the beast bared its face from the darkness, I screamed to the top of my lungs.

  My eyes flew open to blood-curdling screams, my screams. I lunged out of bed, kicking the covers, arms fending off phantom hands that crawled over my skin. My heart raced like a horse sprinting to the finish line.

  I collapsed to all fours, panting. Sweat poured off my body, and I shuddered. For the first time in ten years, the nightmare had changed.

  I dragged myself to my feet and eased onto the edge of my bed. I felt drained, zapped of energy. I brushed my hand over my arm and flinched. A sharp pain suddenly bit. I rolled my sleeve up, and my breath lodged in my chest.

  Visions of the faceless boy charged through my mind. I recalled the grating pain of his fingers digging into my flesh and how angry I'd become. Still, it was only a dream. It wasn't real, but how could I explain the bruises on my arm, the fingerprints?

  I Didn't Invite You

  Sunday, the storm passed and the sun, in its finest glory, peeked from behind the horizon. All life had returned to normal. The birds chirped happily, the bugs sang their chorus, and I washed clothes and caught up with schoolwork.

  By the early evening, I'd finished my last lesson, snapping my book closed when Sara burst through the front door. She waddled in with a handful of grocery sacks, dropping them with a thud in the doorway.

  I darted downstairs, and as I came to a halt at the end of the steps, my jaw fell to the floor.

  Sara ordered gruffly, “Well, stop standing there with your pie-hole open! Come help me!” She dropped the bags in the doorway, breathing heavily.

  I shook my head, nearly speechless, “Oh-okay!” I trailed off after her.

  When I stepped off the porch and lifted my gaze, my heart damn near stopped. “Where did you get the money for this car?” I gaped, eyeballing a red Ferrari.

  “Stop gawking and just get the food,” Sara snapped.

  “Alrighty,” I mumbled as I made way to the back of the car.

  Sara had the trunk wide open. I noted several Piggly Wiggly sacks. “Mom, what have you done?”

  A wicked smile crossed her lips, the kind of smile a killer made right before he decapitated your head.

  “You likie,” Sara asked.

  “Mom, that's not my question.”

  She squirmed for a second, most likely thinking of what lie to tell. “The ride belongs to the Bane family. Since I am such an indispensable employee, they're lettin' me drive their car. I suppose that's the perks workin' for the richest family in town.”

  “Uh-hmm, you want me to believe that the Bane's are letting you drive a brand-new Ferrari? Do you know how much one of those cars cost?” Doubt coated my voice like ice to the power lines.

  “You don't have to believe anything!” Sara gritted her teeth.

  Whoops! There she went, confirming what I'd expected—lies. Deflection was a handy tool Sara used often. It was her defense, like a sword to Samurai. Whenever she'd get caught in her many lies, she'd use anger to deflect the attention from her.

  I glanced inside the cab, no sign of Francis. “Where's your boyfriend?”

  “He went to play cards with friends.” She smiled, though her eyes remained icy. Sara never faltered with impatience toward me. Tonight, her agitation seemed more heightened than normal.

  “Oh!” I shrugged, shoving my hands in my pockets. “So why are you here?”

  “I'm cooking dinner.”

  “Dinner,” I scoffed. Sara burned water.

  Slinky-like a cat, in six-inch, red sole, Christian Louboutin shoes, Sara sauntered to the back of the car. The dress she wore fit like second skin. “Yes, dinner,” she snarled, waving her hand at the trunk. Her blood colored nails glinted off the streetlight. She spouted orders as if I was the hired help. “Hurry up!” She nodded to the bags. “I ain't got all night!”

  I wanted to roll my eyes but knew better from the consequences. Instead, I asked, “Where did you get the money for all this?” I spied a box of dishes, plates, cups and cookware, pots and pans. Suspicion flickered around me. “All this food and cookware must've cost a small fortune.”

  “Guest is coming for dinner.” A snide grin colored her face.

  “Who?”

  “Your boyfriend,” she answered with a devil-may-care tone.

  “My boyfriend?”

  “Yes,” Sara snapped. “Get that sack out of the passenger's side too. I bought you something nice to wear.” Her ga
ze washed over me through critical eyes. “I don't want you looking like a street urchin.” She tisked, “I brought makeup to show off your green eyes. Men love green eyes. For the life of me, I don't understand why.”

  “Dad liked my eyes!” I wished she'd get over my looks, it's funny though because I don't look like either one of my parents.

  “Your eyes are average. That's all I mean.” Another shot to the gut.

  I narrowed my eyes at her, still clinching the bags in my hands. “You never told me the real reason you're here?”

  Sara stepped up to my face and grabbed my chin, digging her sharp nails into my flesh. I bit back the sharp stab. “I'm not going to let you ruin this for me. Aidan Bane already has a wandering eye.” She shoved my chin to the side. “This is your only chance to be somebody,” she hissed. “This young man is loaded to the hilt, and he is accustomed to a certain quality of women. Not some country bumpkin like you.”

  I glared at her, speechless.

  Sara gathered a strand of my hair in her palm and turned her nose up at it, tossing it aside. “I hope he likes redheads. I never got why the rave over the color myself.” Sara paused. “Well, what are you standing here for?”

  Tears began to sting as I glared at the woman who claimed to be my mother. Sara may have carried the title, but she'd never fulfilled her position. “Sara, if you want to cook Aidan Bane a meal, go right ahead. I won't be here to cheer you on.” Her lack of confidence in me hurt, “And I won't play dress up for you either.” I shoved the bag of clothes at her. “I can stand on my own two feet without his help.”

  “Oh really? Just how do you plan to do that?” Sara drew back her lips showing her white teeth, and flinging the white bag of clothes to the ground.

  “I plan to go to college! Maybe I'll become an attorney like Dad and live my life as I please.”

  Sara snorted a wicked laugh. “You overrate your father!”

  “Whether I do or not you should be proud of me for my aspirations. Proud that I don't need to prostitute my body out to a man in hopes he might toss a few coins at my feet.” Rancor sharpened my tongue as I lashed out, “Get your own groceries!” I dropped the bags at her feet and stormed off, leaving Sara to her miserable, despicable self.