Dad cracks a smile that hits each ear. “Now, here’s a young man of whom I approve. Oscar, I was wondering when you would come around to meet my daughter.”
A younger version of Roehl struts past me. He’s costumed in more youthful skin, and his thirty-year-old looking image is gone. He looks to be my age; skin glazed in a beautiful, deep golden tan. Dark hair slicked back, stopping at the top of his neck. Eyebrows laid down over innocent warm eyes that kindly look over us.
Nathan pulls me closer to him.
Dad notices. “Don’t handle her that way. She isn’t yours and is free to speak and become acquainted with others.”
I touch Nathan’s hand to calm the rage revving him up.
Roehl walks to Dad’s side, smiling. His teeth aren’t sharp but are perfectly straight and white. His golden eyes have taken on a dark tint that makes them look like the color of honey.
It hits me like a boulder smashing against my skull. I knew something was off with Dad! It’s him! He is so evil―influencing my father!
Mom peeks out of the door. “Who is that, dear?”
“Come over here, sweetheart, I’d like you to meet someone.”
Mom looks to me, and I shake my head for her not to come, begging her with my eyes. She shows understanding with a nod. “Tracey, are you leaving?”
My eyes stay fixed on Roehl, as I answer, “In a minute, Mom.”
Roehl’s eyes lighten as he smiles at me. I suck in my bottom lip to keep my mouth from curling into the grin I’d prefer to form.
“Okay, honey. Dear, cut this short. It’s getting late.” She walks back in the house, leaving the door cracked.
Dad turns from looking at the closing door. “Tracey, come over here and meet Oscar. You’re not tied to Nathan.”
“No, Dad. I’ll stay bound to Nathan.”
“Let her go, Nathan,” Dad tries to instruct.
“No, sir. She’s fine where she is,” Nathan replies.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Tracey was seeing someone.” Roehl sounds honest, playing his part.
“Well, I am. So maybe you should leave. I’d never be interested,” I say, firm.
His eyes narrow. “Really? I wouldn’t say that, sweet Tracey,” he leers, voice lowering seductively. My name is like sugar on his lips, releasing with ease as if he were bred to speak it.
I try to shake it off, moving closer to Nathan. He wears a forced smile that is small but apologetic. What do we do? We can’t leave them here with him, I say.
I know.
“Excuse her. She’s been shy lately. Tracey, don’t be rude,” Dad pushes.
“No, Dad, don’t be cupid. Stay out of my business. This is really low for you.”
His glee-filled face falters. Those thin eyebrows pull together, forming a fold between his squished skin. The corners of his mouth turn downward, and by the looks of it, he’s unsure of what’s going on. “Well, Tracey, I just thought I’d show you there could be other interested guys that you may want to get to know instead of settling on Nathan.”
Settling?
“There will only be me. No other man will take her nor replace me,” Nathan states.
Roehl smiles. “I wouldn’t take her, Nathan. She’d come willingly. Like she shows she’s interested in doing now.”
I look myself over. Do I? I couldn’t . . . I check my facial expression to make sure it’s a scowl and not a smile.
Nathan slips his hand across the small of my back. “Oscar, I think you should take your exit, your short welcome has been worn.”
“Nathan, you don’t come to my house and tell my guest when to leave,” Dad snaps.
A low growl rumbles Nathan’s chest.
“No. That’s alright, Mr. Warren. It’s getting late. I stopped by wanting to see if what you were saying about your daughter was true.” He makes three long strides in my direction. “She’s more beautiful than you described.”
As he nears us, Nathan pushes me to his side, restraining from moving me behind him.
Roehl extends his hand for me to take it. “Nice to finally meet you, Tracey. I hope to see you again.”
To meet his hand, I’ll need to step out of Nathan’s grasp, away from his controlling touch. I breathe deeply as I fight with myself to not close the small distance between us and meet Roehl’s grasp. To let my fingertips graze over his, soon find his palm, and then our anxious hands will clasp, and I’ll be able to fill this bit of space inside me where it feels like he is missing.
Nathan’s grip on my waist tightens as he pulls me back the couple of steps I didn’t realize I’d taken. Appalled and embarrassed, I turn into Nathan and inhale deeply, washing away the remnants of the want I shouldn’t have.
“Don’t push it, Oscar,” Nathan warns.
“Just trying to prove a point,” Roehl condescends.
Hoping to convey I’m exactly where I want to be and with the person I want to remain, I step closer to Nathan, turning my back on both Roehl and Dad. “Or waste your time,” Nathan responds.
Footsteps near us as Roehl chuckles. “Not entirely, brother,” he quietly scoffs before loudly stating, “Have a good evening, Mr. Warren.”
“You too, Oscar.” A long pause passes, and I hear a car start and drive off. “I can’t believe you treated him like that. And Tracey, you wouldn’t even say hello. I raised you better than that.”
I whip around. There’s fire in my vision, and before it can surf through my body, I blink it away and calm my anger. “No, Dad. You crossed a line. That was unacceptable. I can’t believe you would treat me like that. And in front of Nathan. That was beyond low.” He prepares to speak, and I cut him off, “Enough, Dad. Just . . . enough.”
Disappointed, I turn away from him and start for Nathan’s passenger’s door. I flip the handle and the door clicks open, swinging past me. Climbing the mountain to get in his truck, I realize, at this point, my anger isn’t with my father. And knowing this is all some grand scheme, I should be more patient. I just can’t. I buckle my seatbelt, avoiding meeting Dad’s eyes as he stands in the driveway, half-scolding and half-blankly staring at us. His confusion is evidence: it has all been some scandal set up by Roehl that each of us have unknowingly played into.
In the driver’s seat, Nathan turns to me, his face cold and expressionless, eyes dark and swirling darker. He doesn’t have to say it . . . I already know.
Dad heads for the door when Mom pokes her head out, telling him to come in. He tells her, “I don’t understand what’s wrong with her. She’s wrapped up in that boy.”
“James, you cannot force her not to be with him. Why would you try to push another boy on her if you don’t want her to be with the one she has?” They close the door. “That was very low,” she adds.
I don’t hear him respond.
Nathan’s head rests against the headrest as he waits. His eyes, though closed, reveal a dimly lit blue churning behind his lids.
“Are you okay?”
“No, Sparks.” He leans forward, hand clutching the keys to crank the ignition.
“They’ll be okay, right? He won’t come back after them or anything.”
Nathan shakes his head. “Roehl wants you. He won’t do anything that will hurt you.” The words leave his lips like syrup was made of acid, slow and burning. It might’ve stung him to say that, to realize that. And it burned me to hear.
He starts the truck and pulls out of the drive.
I know he’s upset. But I don’t know if he’s upset with Dad, Roehl, or me. Maybe all three of us. I sneak a few glances at him, trying to get some kind of feeling off him. He’s blocked off, so guarded I can’t feel him like I’d usually be able to, but I know him well enough to discern silence associated with the midnight swirl in his eyes is a bad sign.
open secret
“Why would he go after her father? This doesn’t make any sense. That’s not like him at all,” Roseland says. He paces the living room floor, hand on his hip. He tucks his free hand beneath his
chin as he tries to unravel Roehl’s plan. “This isn’t making sense.”
“No,” Nathan says, forcing him to still. “That’s exactly like him. Using anyone to get what he wants.” He adjusts in the chair on the far of the living room nearest the window in the corner. Maroon drapes with black stitching hang in front of the window that looks out to the backyard.
“What do you think he’s trying to do?” Scott asks.
Nathan lets the question hang around. He shifts his gaze to me, and I cross the living room to his chair. His body is hard, and I can feel his anger as I sit on his lap, taking his hand in mine. I kiss his cheek, and he wraps an arm around me, furthering his comfort. Subtly, his tenseness eases away like melting snow.
He sighs quietly. “He wants Sparks to go to him willingly. He wants to be accepted by her, and me to be okay with it.” His forehead presses against my shoulder and heavy breaths pound against my naked arm. He works his words out in a way a crank would oil. “But what makes it worse is. . .” Despair crawls over him, and he grits his teeth, containing the sudden discomfort. “She wants to go,” he whispers, but the words explode in my ears.
My heart drops, and for the first time being with Nathan, I feel a heartbreak that strikes me silent. He slides from beneath me and leaves.
My lids slowly fall over my eyes. As though I were one of those baby dolls, where, if she’s laid down, the lids close, pick her up, they open. They just fall over my eyes, and maybe I hope for a second, the darkness will erase me. Maybe, I hope when I reopen them, I’ll be somewhere free from the . . . the . . . this. Free from the this.
But deep down, beyond the denial, I know what Nathan says is true. I want Roehl in a bad kind of way. I’m not supposed to. I’m supposed to only want, desire, and crave Nathan. I’m supposed to require only one man, one Sephlem, one beast. And yet, here I am, stuck in this stupid freaking love triangle I can do absolutely nothing about because, well . . . I want them both.
I get it. I’m tainted by Roehl somehow, but knowing that. . . Is this supposed to make it better? Easier? Should I be able to control it? Can he have that much power over me where my will is extracted and now my desires are held in a stranger’s hand all because of this bonding? I understand the only reason I’m attracted to Roehl is that he’s copied Nathan, but knowing that does nothing for my situation. I can’t use it to help me. I can’t convince myself that he’s not as diabolically entrancing, attractive, and exciting as my other half is leading me to believe.
The room is silent. Only soft breathing sounds in my hypersensitive ears. I’m stagnant, unable to avert my eyes from the corner of the chair as it blurs from the hot tears clouding my vision. I swallow hard, trying to push down the lump building in my throat. It’s stuck. No way am I going to let these people see me cry. My cheeks may flush, and my eyes may water, but I won’t let a tear fall.
“Tracey,” Taylor calls. She was the only other person who knew my secret. Until Nathan just broadcasted it to everyone. This was supposed to be our secrets, so his family wouldn’t think badly of me. So much for that.
Cold hands rub my shoulders, and a figure takes up the space in front of me. “Come on, Cey. Let’s go somewhere. Scott, take us somewhere?” Glen’s soft and sympathetic voice.
There is shuffling before Scott says, “Okay, we’ll go out with Olar. If that’s okay with you?”
“Yeah, I’ll tag along,” Olar says.
Glen pulls me up by my arms. My legs are limp as I apply my weight to stand.
“It’s okay, Tracey, we’ll take care of it,” Taylor assures. She places her hand on my shoulder, but it’s smacked away.
“Don’t touch her!” Glen snarls. “This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder, coddling me close to her. “This shit is all your fault!”
“Glen, calm down. It’s okay,” Taylor tries to reassure her.
There is no reassuring Glen. Once she has her mind made up about who you are or what you’ve done, you’re on her ‘A’ list of hate. Glen’s voice scratches as she yells, “No! It’s not O-kay! Don’t try to comfort my friend knowing you did this.”
“Glen, I’ve explained I was sorry. Tracey knows that,” she fires back, strong and direct as if she’s antagonizing Glen with kind words.
“That means nothing,” Glen spits.
“Glen, let’s not go there,” Scott cuts in. “We can go.”
I find my calm, although the hurt I brought to Nathan doesn’t lift. He won’t admit it, but I know all this is hurting him. I can’t explain what it is because I still don’t understand it. Even if I weren’t with Nathan, I wouldn’t be the least bit interested in Roehl.
Unless I would . . .
He is quite fascinating. Insanely captivating. His elegant voice and the alluring way he moves. A glimpse of him, from earlier, brings a timid rise to my cheeks. Those radiant brown eyes, perfect teeth, and lack of sun made him so much more attractive. None of that golden stuff, just a man of pure normality, his beast at bay. I loved seeing him like that. I should’ve gone to him, touched him, felt his hand on my waist, and maybe kissed his lips as I looked into those glimmering eyes.
Ugh!
I roughly shake my head. Stop this, Tracey! We’re supposed to hate him. We freaking hate him. Get him out of your head! Nathan. Remember! Not Roehl. Remember Nathan, Tracey.
I blink away the remainder of the tears burning my eyes. Nothing will get solved if I sit around moping and crying. “I need to see Nathan,” I tell them. I need to let him know I’m sorry and that I don’t know why this is happening, that I try to control it but I can’t.
“I think you should let him take a breather for right now, Tracey,” Scott says, frowning.
“I’m just going to tell him I’m leaving, Scott.” I head for the door, and Scott throws his arm out, blocking me.
“No, Tracey. He’s not here. He’ll be back before we are. But for now, you need to give him some space.”
Give him some space. . .? I am his space. At least, I’m supposed to be. We’re supposed to have this talk-about-anything relationship, and when I need him, he needs space. I’m not mad. I get it. But it would be nice if he was at my side, helping me through this because I know there’s something wrong with me. Nathan, I’m sorry. Okay?
Nathan doesn’t respond, and an ache that’s not my own tightens my muscles and causes me to cringe. My hands shake, feeling his distress mixed with my own.
“Tracey, I promise I never intended for this to happen,” Taylor tells me.
“I told you not to talk to her!” Glen barks, looking daggers at Taylor. “It’s only because you’re Scott’s cousin that I haven’t whooped your ass yet. But I promise, if you keep pushing it.” Glen charges at Taylor.
I hold Glen back by her arm. “It’s fine, Taylor. Come on, Glen. I want to get out of here.” Glen thinks she can fight the world and win. I appreciate that she has my back and will fight for me, but this isn’t worth it.
Glen snatches her arm from me, a look of disbelief and disgust sewn in her eyes. “I can’t believe you, Tracey.” She leaves me.
I roll my eyes, following out behind her. Taylor mouths, “Thank you.”
I nod, giving her what I hope is a smile stretching my lips.
I force myself to accompany Glen, Scott, and Olar to a bonfire party that Olar was invited to. He said that because there are humans here also, no one will try anything. The whole risk of exposure thing. We travel about an hour from Nathan’s house to a beach where a bonfire blazes, reaching the height of the trees. Crowds of people surround the pit and the cars and trucks parked nearby. Someone’s vehicle blasts a variety of music, and many dance, but others linger and converse.
I’m not in a partying mood, and I’m quickly forgotten no sooner than we arrive.
Glen dances with Scott and hasn’t thought about looking my way since they started. Olar stays by me as he talks with every single person at this party. The hours crawl by, and I lamely stan
d aside, arms crossed, weight thrown on my right leg, watching Glen and everyone else enjoy themselves. And as if I couldn’t just lamely stand here by myself, guys, who I assume may be human, approach me trying to spark small talk. And here comes guy number nine.
Mr. Blonde Hair and Blue Eyes extends his hand. “Hi. I’m Chris. You wanna dance?” He smiles, waggling his eyebrows.
I flick my gaze to his hand, then lift it back to his face. Kindly, I shake my head. He frowns and gives me puppy dog eyes. I turn away from him to find Olar.
“Fine, you dumb bitch,” Chris snaps behind me. I ignore him. It’s better for him that I do, because I could definitely blast him in the face. He doesn’t know that I’m saving us from a catastrophic event. I’ll touch one of these guys, and we’ll get the shock from hell, or I’ll tell them no, and they end up not being human and then I’m stuck with another Roehl. I’m flattered, really. But it’s better to walk away.
I take Olar’s side, leaning my shoulder against his arm.
“Ay, Olar. This your new girl?” A seven foot, broad shoulder, dark-haired boy asks. His smooth chin, small nose, and other child-like features make me unsure of his age, and how he fits into this older crowd.
I bite my tongue. Something doesn’t feel right about speaking to him. Plus, if I open my mouth to speak, a scream would escape in replacement of my words.
“No, this is Nathan,” Olar says and takes a drink from his red cup.
These guys aren’t human. I can tell by Olar’s response in ownership. This is Nathan. Not she is Nathan’s girl. But this object who walks and breathes, who is currently standing next to me unable to speak to you because her mate is not here to give her permission . . . belongs to Nathan. So damn dominatingly cli-freaking-ché. I’m my own person and belong to no one, dammit!
The three tall guys standing in front of Olar noses flare. One, with more piercings than Olar, says, “Clearly,” conclusively.
I guess I’m potent with Nathan.
“I was wondering where Nate’s been? I haven’t seen him in a while. We thought he was lying low.” The tallest of the three, with long blue-dyed hair hanging around his face, glances at me, then quickly away. He’s another that Nathan must have spooked.
Brazen: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 2) Page 21