Burdened (A Burdened Novel)

by Peiri Ann

  “Do you need me to?” Need? Yes. But I know he has to go. “Go in the house, Tracey. Get some sleep. I’ll come by and wake up next to you in the morning.”

  “Okay.” I sound discouraged. I am reluctant.

  He grabs my chin. “Don’t say it like I’m hurting you, babe.” He kisses my pouted mouth. “I’ll make up for it later, okay?”

  A little excitement rolls in me. I try not to let it show. “I’m holding you to it.”

  He kisses me again, long and intimate, making my heart float. I grab onto him as I indulge in his kiss, hoping it will tide me over until he comes back. He pulls back, placing a short and sweet kiss on my bottom lip. He lets out a breath against my face, confirming he too is reluctant to leave.

  “Okay, baby. I’ll be back. Don’t wait up for me.”

  “Okay, Nathan. Be safe and come back.” He stares at me. “What?” He isn’t saying anything.

  He snaps out of whatever trance he was in. “Nothing. Just that, what you said, ‘Be Safe’—no one says that to me. It just affected me in a different way, coming from you. Go in the house.”

  I open and walk through my front door, turning around to look out of it. “See you in a minute, Nathan,” I say quietly, knowing he can hear me.

  You got it, he responds smoothly.

  15: Bound

  I grab a bottled water from the fridge. My mom is supposed to be home, so I walk to her room. Her door is closed, confirming she is here. I knock.

  “Tracey?”

  “Yes, Mom. I’m home. How long have you been back?”

  The door opens. “Just a couple of hours.” She hugs me and I hug her back. “I missed you. I saw your dad. He’ll be home before your break is over.”

  My dad has been gone for two weeks this time. I cannot wait to see him. “That’s good, Mom.” We walk into her room. “What are you doing?”

  “Just trying to finish this presentation for work. What were you up to over the weekend? How was the party?”

  “Like any other party. My weekend was good.” My weekend was great! “How was your stay with Dad?”

  “Refreshing. You know how long it’s been since we’ve seen each other, and I missed him so much.” She is looking down at her computer. That’s it for me. I’m done talking. I can’t take this part of the conversation.

  “Okay, Mom. Well, I’m going to my room. I’m going to take a nap.”

  “Okay, honey. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Kay, Mom. Glad you’re back.” I close her door behind me.

  I clean my room and when I finish, I watch ‘Transformers.’ I think it was the second one. I play games on my phone, pay super close attention to the movie—everything in my power to not think about Nathan. My eyes grow heavy as Optimus Prime gets killed.

  There is a craving, a yearning in my chest that pulls me from my sleep. It feels like a pull from my heart. I can’t feel anything but him. I can only hear his voice. My head swims with only images of him. I can’t ignore it. I need him. The ache returns in my chest, demanding him. It’s calling for him. I clutch at it, turning onto my side.

  Trying to calm myself, I breathe through the pain. His scent fills my nose with every breath as his taste floods my mouth. This is not better than it was before. This is worse, because I understand what I’m experiencing and I have something to compare it to. Every sense I have is full of Nathan.

  My jaw clenches and my hands shake. I slow my breathing, trying to manage the way his scent affects me. I have to change the way I’m looking at the situation, and do something to make this pain stop. It’s like wanting something so bad, needing something to the point that your body cringes, aches, and stresses for it.

  This has got to be what it feels like to be on drugs. Aching for another hit.

  I close my eyes, seeing him smiling at me. He touches and kisses me, and I let him. It’s not real, but it feels real, and I want him too bad not to let him. The hurt expands, and I try to focus on the feeling of his kiss and the touch of his hands. I feel him everywhere around me and I want to cry out to him.

  Unable to fight it, I give in to the pain, and it crowds me, like he’s doing. No longer fighting it, it’s not as bad. “Nathan,” I say softly, needing to hear his name. “I need you…bad,” I say, even quieter, not wanting to disturb him…but I do. Just a touch, a short kiss, or him looking at me, would be enough to satisfy my need.

  His voice is in my head, speaking sweetly to my unknown, and it doesn’t help my longing for him. The nonexistent arms hold me, and although they’re not real, they feel real, easing my pain. I fall back to sleep.

  Tracey, he calls.

  Tracey. The pain returns.

  Tracey. It’s getting worse.

  His arms, still holding me, tighten. I rest against them, scared to open my eyes and confirm they’re not real. I can’t take the pain, so I clench my teeth to not scream, and force myself back to sleep.

  I wake up, not much later. The pain is gone and I’m grateful. I let out a harsh breath of relief. My stomach expands, touching an arm that’s around me. I turn over, seeing Nathan’s sleeping eyes.

  Excitement rolls in me, happy he’s here. Like a girl staring at a hot guy for the first time, I gawk at him. If he was awake, I wouldn’t, but he’s not, and I need to take him in.

  My joy lowers, seeing a deep scar across his left eye. It starts from the hairline of his forehead and goes through his eyebrow, over his eye, past his cheekbone, and stops in the middle of his cheek. It saddens me, knowing he was hurt. I reach up to touch it.

  I rub my finger over it and it disappears under my finger. Whoa! This must have been what he meant, about being able to heal. He remains asleep, and I take the opportunity to do the other scar along his neck and arm. Afterwards, I look him over. The scars are gone and he looks like my Nathan.

  I kiss his lips and his eyes open into a slit. “Hey,” I say, smiling.

  “Hey.” He pushes my hair from my face.

  “You okay?”

  “I am now.”

  “I missed you…a lot.”

  “Me too.” He pauses. “You fixed my scars?”

  “Yeah,” I say through a smile, feeling proud that I was able to do something for him.

  “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  His eyes close. “How was your night?”

  “Terrible. But I managed, thanks to you holding me, making it easier for me to sleep.”

  He smiles. “Glad I could help. You mind telling me how I did that?”

  “I don’t know. You were everywhere anyway, so I guess it was only right my mind made you hold me—to ease my pain.”

  “Hm, well then, I’m glad to know you can take care of yourself.”

  “And you too.”

  “Yeah, me too. Thanks again.” He moves me back beside him. “Go back to sleep, Tracey. Get comfortable.”

  I scoot against him, placing my head in his neck. “So are you going to tell me what happened?” I ask, as I tangle my legs in his.

  “No.” He doesn’t hesitate.

  “Why not?”

  “Just imagine what you saw before, with more people on each side and us still being outnumbered. More died, and they weren’t from our side.” He is short, and I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it.

  But I’m curious. “And the scars?”

  “I got caught off-guard and a Nemanite tried to get the best of me.”

  “O-kay…” I push for him to continue, whatever a Nemanite is.

  “Tracey, what do you think happened?” His voice is aggressive.

  “I don’t know. That is why I’m asking.” I touch his bare chest and his muscles relax.

  He lets out a breath. “When helping Nathan, he cut me off and tried to cut my neck. I moved before he could, and instead, he got me in the face. I got pissed, not to mention my brother still needed me, so I obliterated him.”

  “And what was happening to Nathan?”

  He takes a deep b
reath and lets it go. “You really want to talk about this?”

  “Yes,” I answer in an ‘obviously’ tone.

  He takes another deep breath and lets it out slowly, against my head. “He was being held down and taken by a couple of other Nemanites. They have a power where they can steal pieces of you, whether it is a sense, a desire, a memory, or your soul. He held his ground pretty well, trying to fight them off, but they were too strong for him.

  “I noticed this, once I’d finished with the guy who had cut open my face. He called for me and I raced to him, and we fought them just for the hell of it. They took his feeling of touch and a few of his memories, Roseland and I assumed, because he didn’t know how we got there or why. My grandmother was able to restore his feeling.”

  “That’s her ability?”

  “She can restore what is taken physically.” He kisses the top of my head. “Go to sleep, Tracey.”

  I let it go. “Thanks for coming back.”

  “I told you I would.” He holds me tighter and calm fills me. I’m out on my next inhale.

  “Tracey, you awake?” My mom says, knocking on my bedroom door.

  I am now, Mom. Wait…Mom!? I start to panic, remembering I hadn’t locked the door.

  Nathan’s arms tighten around me. It’s okay, baby. I locked it. Calm down.

  I breathe. Okay, good. Good thinking.

  Just answer her. His eyes are still closed. Groggy voice.

  Right! “Mom,” I sing, raspy in aggravation.

  “Tracey, I’m leaving for work. Call me if you need me. I love you.”

  “Okay, Mom,” I say, quieter.

  See? Simple. Go back to sleep. I do, after a few minutes of calming myself down.

  I wake later, to the sun, feeling happy and satisfied—nothing like how I went to sleep the first time. Nathan is still asleep, and still illegally-looking amazing. I move from the bed, trying not to wake him. I climb over his mountain body, and he turns over on his back. I halt, but he stays asleep.

  Peeking from my door, I check to see if my mom is still gone. Her door is open. Good. I go to the bathroom to shower and brush my teeth. Doing something better with my hair today, I put loose curls in it. I don’t have bangs, so my hair flows around my round, yet slanted, face.

  I finish, satisfied. Looking at myself in the mirror, I notice one of those marks under my right eye, resting against my high cheekbone. Very faint, but I can see it well-enough. It’s a damaged feather, set on fire at the stemmed end. It scares me a little; I don’t understand it. There are pieces of the feather missing, along with small flames erupting from the sides.

  The flames don’t move, but it’s obvious what’s going on. I touch it and feel nothing.

  Why does the feather have to be burning? Why couldn’t it have just been a feather with missing pieces? It’s sad, and slightly depressing.

  I walk back to my room, and Nathan is still asleep. He has one of his arms thrown over his eyes, blocking the light from the sun, while the other rests on his stomach. I lay on the chaise, not wanting to disturb him by climbing back into bed. His clothes are thrown over it. I lay his shirt over me, getting high off his scent as I watch TV on mute.

  Three thirty-minute shows later, he is still asleep and I’m getting bored. Feeling hungry, I greet the kitchen. Cooking is not my thing, unless it involves opening a wrapper or making a sandwich. Sitting at the bar, I play with the fruit in the bowl as I eat an apple.

  Tracey.

  Finally! I don’t answer him, going back upstairs, and peek into my room.

  What are you doing? he asks suspiciously.

  “Waiting for you to wake up.” I walk over and straddle him so that I’m leaning over in his face. His arm is still over his eyes. “You’re tired.”

  “I was. But I’m getting up now.”

  “Umm, no you’re not.”

  “I’m going to get up—when you get off of me,” he says harshly, but I can hear the joke in it.

  I kiss his chest. “Well, when you say it like that.”

  I start getting up, and his arm quickly wraps around me, keeping me from moving. He looks at me through half-open eyes. “You are something beautiful to wake up to.” I smile.

  His eyes widened as he looks at me, and he moves me with him, sitting us up.

  I know what he sees. “Why is it on fire?” I ask quietly, feeling a little mortified.

  “It’s…burdened.” He matches my quiet, rubbing his finger over it. “We can take it away, but it will reappear when you get extremely angry.”

  “Sure, but not if you have to cut if off or something.”

  He chuckles and kisses the burning feather. I feel a cool breath. “There,” he says pulling back. “Did it hurt?” I give him a ‘get serious’ look. “Can I get in your shower?”

  “Yes, but I don’t have any clothes for you.”

  “I brought some clothes.” He points to a bag sitting under the chaise. Why hadn’t I noticed that?

  “Yes, feel free. The bathroom’s the next door past mine on the left. I’ll get you a towel and a toothbrush.”

  “Thank you,” he says, moving me from him, then picking up his bag, which now sits in front of him. I shake my head as he walks out of my bedroom.

  Placing the towels and toothbrush on the counter in the bathroom, I watch him turn on the water.

  “Tracey, it’s rude to stare.”

  “Oh hush!” I walk from the bathroom, closing the door. What’s rude is looking that good with restrictions!

  I look in the mirror that’s over my dresser to see if the feather is still there. To my enjoyment, it’s gone. Good job, Nathan, I say to myself.

  What?

  “Nothing. Mind your own business.”

  You are my business.

  “Just hurry up,” I’m like desperately needing you here. Hearing his voice in my head makes me want him.

  He comes out later, cleaned and clothed. “You want to do something today?”

  “Like what?”

  “We could go to—” He reaches in his pocket, pulling out his phone. His face scrunches before he answer it. “Hello?” The person on the other end rambles, and he doesn’t say anything else before he hangs up.

  “What’s going on?” I ask nervously.

  “Scott told Glen, she freaked, and she’s gone.”

  I jump up, searching the room for my phone. I need to call her.

  The front door bangs loudly.

  “It’s Glen; I know it.” I start to leave the room, stopping in the doorway. “Could you, like, stay up here for a minute? She’d probably freak out, knowing you two are cousins.”

  “I guess.” He walks over and lies across my bed.

  I run downstairs to the door, opening it. Glen is standing there red-eyed, red-faced, and her hair needs a blow dryer and a flat iron. “Glen, what is wrong? And where have you been?”

  “Tracey, he hates me!”

  “Who hates you?”

  “Who else!?” She rolls her eyes. “He hates me. I just know it. He came to me, talking about how there are things about him I didn’t know, and since I wanted to be with him, he felt we should talk.”

  She walks in the bathroom by our front door, taking the whole role of toilet paper, and blows her nose. “What is wrong with me, huh? Why does he hate me so much?”

  “Well, what did he tell you, and why do you think he hates you?” I ask, following her closely.

  “Because, Cey! He came to me about him being some type of bad thing. I don’t know.” She throws her hands up in the air, shaking her head. “He was talking about how he took away my choices, and how I didn’t have to be with him if I didn’t want to.” She stops to blow her nose. “I don’t know, Tracey…but I do know it was a whole bunch of bullshit.”

  Tears start rolling down her face. I don’t see her strange snowflake anymore. Scott probably took it away, like Nathan did to mine.

  “Okay, Glen, calm down.” He tried to tell her and she wouldn’t even listen. A
s hard as it was for him to tell her, she couldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt to listen. And it’s not my place to provide her with any details. So what am I supposed to say?

  She sniffs a few more times and wipes her eyes. “Glen, did you even listen to him?” She looks at me like I’d lost it. “I’m only asking the question so I know how to help you. Can you calm down? No one is the bad guy here.”

  “No, I didn’t listen. He was lying, trying to find another way to push me off!” she half-yells, plopping down on the couch in our living room.

  “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way.” She pierces her eyes at me. I choose my words carefully. “Scott is a nice guy—we both know that. And to be honest with you, Glen, he really loves you.” She starts to object and I put my hand out to stop her. “Just trust me—I know. I know he has a weird way of showing it, but he does.”

  She’s not saying anything, so I continue. “Just for a second, think about if some of the stuff he said was true.” Her eyebrows scrunch at my insinuation. “Just for a moment, think about how hard it may have been for him to tell you that stuff. Then think about how he would deal with it if you wouldn’t accept him.”

  I move to sit next to her. “What if he wasn’t trying to push you away but to tell you the truth—to bring you closer?” I pick up the roll of toilet paper, taking some off and handing it to her. “Because, by the way things look, you all don’t get along too well the majority of the time, although you all do want to be with each other.”

  She takes the tissue and looks at me. “So what are you getting at?” she asks calmly.

  “If you love him, maybe you should listen to what he has to say, instead of blowing him off like he was pushing you away.”

  “What makes you think I love him?”

  “Come on, Glen. What are we, acquaintances?”

  “Yes!” she states factually. “Ever since you started being with his cousin.” She pauses. “So let me ask you a question.” I nod. “If Nathan came to you saying something crazy like that, would you listen?”

  “If Nathan told me the sky was red, I would believe him, even when I walk outside and see that it is blue,” I say, looking at my hands.