Tethered (A BirthRight Novel #1)

by Brandi Leigh Hall

My heart sinks.

  They’ve already told Gram everything. That’s just great.

  But I guess I should be thankful to have an empty house for another hour or so. Maybe I’ll go sit in the sun for a while. My pale skin could use a golden boost.

  With laptop bag in tow, I grab the oversized bottle of Banana Boat and a beach towel from the pantry then head towards the back yard.

  Situated on a lawn chair, I lean my head back, allowing the sauna-like rays to hit my face as I think of time spent with Aunt Morgan on her patio in San Diego.

  It won’t be easy getting used to the change in seasons again. I dread the idea of Long Island winters—and driving on icy roads for the first time.

  But as I relax my mind to take a stroll down memory lane, a vision sneaks up from behind and slaps me.

  Aunt Morgan’s leaning against Gram’s kitchen sink, tears streaming down her face.

  Michael stands in front of her, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. His lips are moving, but it’s as if someone has turned the volume down.

  Ash and Aidan are off to the side where Michael can’t see them. Watching. Waiting.

  Anger spreads across their red faces, but they remain silent.

  They just stand there, frozen like two concrete pillars.

  I still can’t hear what Michael’s saying as tears begin rolling down his sullen face.

  Seconds later, he storms out the back door.

  The boys rush to their distraught mother’s side, holding her in their shaking arms as they sob together.

  My eyes fly open, the blazing sun greets me with hostility.

  Holy crap!

  This must mean Michael finds out about the boys. I just wish I could have heard what they were saying so I’d know why Aunt Morgan was crying. It had to be about more than Michael learning the truth. I mean, why would that make her cry?

  If Michael weren’t the enemy, his weeping would break my heart. I hate to see men cry. But finding out after twenty-one years he’s a father will be unbearable. Especially when he believed they were never born.

  I can’t even imagine what the news will do to him.

  Ash and Aidan should be here in a few days, so I’m sure the events in my vision will come to pass later this week. I don’t think Aunt Morgan plans to waste any time in letting the truth come out.

  It’s pointless anyway. One glimpse of their faces and the Russo’s will know the truth. How could they not?

  But I wonder if Aunt Morgan has any idea how she plans to share the news?

  The Russo’s will flip when they find out!

  I squeeze lotion down my legs, thinking of days spent under the judgmental, spying eyes of Michael’s father, Peter Russo. That grumpy man never allowed us to step foot in their yard when their nieces and nephews were in town, no matter how much the kids pleaded. Peter had so much hostility at the mere sight of us. I remember him shaking his fist and yelling when we stepped in the driveway to play. Maybe he thought the Russo children would catch Witch Fever if they got too close. Idiot!

  If he’d ever found out we’d bonded with some of his nieces, he’d have hit the roof. We used to figure out ways to sneak them out to the park, or to a nearby stream where we’d play on an old tire swing and jump in the water. He’d have had a coronary if he ever found out.

  I shudder as dejection bears down on me—all over again. How could he treat innocent children with such cruelty? Maybe it was a blessing he never knew about Ash and Aidan.

  Michael’s mother, Angelica, however, would look across the yard with her warm brown eyes, full of remorse. She’d smile at us every now and then, but never when her husband was around to see.

  According to the stories my family told, the Russo’s were always civil before they found out about our secret. But knowing how wonderful my family is, I could never understand why they feared us. Where the Russo’s are concerned, ignorance definitely isn’t bliss.

  I stand for a minute to peek around the side of the house to see if the neighbors are home. No cars. Yes!

  I can’t begin to imagine what they’ll do when they find out they have two Witches for grandchildren. I’m sure they’ll head straight to St. Vincent’s Church to pray with Peter’s brother, Father Gabriel.

  Ha! That could be fun to watch.

  Speaking of Father Gabriel, now there’s one man who always gave me the creeps. I shiver just thinking of him. The way he used to glare at us made me feel like he’d rather burn us at the stake than speak to us. How could a man of the cloth be filled with so much blind hatred? It’s not right. And it certainly isn’t Christianly.

  Do they have equal bias against the Protestants and Jews? Wicca is a religion, just as Catholicism is. If anyone should understand, it should be Father Gabriel.

  As my head swims with memories of the neighbors—and my latest vision—the sound of voices erupt from inside the house. Crap. Looks like it’s time to face the music. I brace myself, dragging my bare feet through the grass as I head for the house.

  “Good afternoon, dear. How’d you sleep?” Gram bounces across the kitchen as I stroll through the back door.

  At least she isn’t mad at me.

  I shrug. “Okay, I guess. I finally caught up on the sleep I’ve been missing since finals.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” She smiles. “Did you eat? I was going to throw something together for lunch.”

  “No, I haven’t. But lunch sounds good though.” I look around, now curious at Dru and Dhelia’s absence. “Where’s everyone else?”

  “Oh, they had the same idea as you, so they went upstairs to change.” Gram reaches inside the fridge and pulls out pasta salad and all the fixings for ham and cheese Panini’s.

  “That’s cool. It’s a perfect day for it.” Small talk isn’t easy with the Russo’s on my mind. I know I should tell her about my vision, but I hate to ruin her day.

  “What’s wrong, dear? You seem a bit more preoccupied than usual. Is something other than last night bothering you?” Gram lays down the bread, standing beside me at the island.

  “Well, yeah . . . I ah . . . I had another vision a little while ago. I just hate to bring it up now and ruin Aunt Morgan’s day.”

  “Ruin my day about what?” Aunt Morgan walks through the kitchen door carrying a book and sunscreen.

  I turn to Gram, then back to Aunt Morgan—unsure of what I should do.

  “Go ahead, Chloe. Just tell her what you saw. It’s better she knows now, so she can prepare for it.”

  I guess she has a point. “Well, okay . . . I um . . . well I sort of had a vision about Michael and the boys.”

  “You what?” Aunt Morgan pulls out a stool, dropping onto it as light as feather. “Yeah, you’d better tell me now. What happened?”

  Dru and Dhelia come walking in. “What’s going on? I could feel the tension all the way upstairs.” Dru pulls out the stool beside Aunt Morgan.

  “I was just telling Gram and Aunt Morgan I had a vision about Michael and the boys. It’s not that something bad is going to happen exactly. In fact, I couldn’t even hear what they said. I could only see it.

  “Michael and Aunt Morgan are here in the kitchen talking, while the boys both stand back in the distance, just watching.” I wring my hands, glancing at the floor. “Michael looks so broken hearted. He cries his eyes out then rushes out the door. Once he’s out of sight, the boys wrap their arms around you…and the three of you cry together. And then it’s over.

  “It just didn’t make sense to me why you were crying.” I look to Aunt Morgan. “I wanted to hear what was being said, but it was like someone hit the mute button or something. I’ve never had a vision like that before.”

  “Wow. I guess I should prepare myself then. Any idea when this is supposed to happen?” Aunt Morgan’s eyes freeze open, her hand covering her mouth. I’ve never seen her look so nervous.

  “Not really, but my gut tells me it’s later this week. Sometime during the day.”

  “Okay.
I’ll tell the boys about it when they get here. I don’t want them taken by surprise when he shows up.” She nods several times. “You did the right thing by telling me, Chloe. Thank you.”

  At least I did one thing right this week. “You’re welcome. I just didn’t want to upset you on top of everything else.”

  Gram plugs in the Panini maker then sits down beside me. “Chloe dear, we need to make a new family rule. I don’t want to put pressure on you, but in light of the warning your mother gave, it’s my belief you should share your visions with the family for the time being. Of course, if they should be about someone outside the family, you don’t need to share it. Unless you want to, of course.” She glances at Morgan. “We were talking about it earlier, and we feel the family needs to stay in the loop with what’s going on. With what will be going on. That way, as a family, we can discuss it and figure out what we should do. If there’s anything we can do.”

  I look around the room at everyone’s serious expressions, realizing how important this has become to them. And they’re right. “Okay. I can do that.”

  “So then we’re all in agreement. We want to know about Chloe’s visions, no matter how bad they might be, correct?” Gram’s stern expression makes us all aware of the gravity of the situation.

  Everyone nods in agreement, looking to me for some sort of reassurance. But I have none to give them. I’m already keeping two visions from them, which I now realize I have to share.

  “Um…in light of this new pact, I suppose there are two other visions I should probably tell you about. The bad news is, they’re scary, and I know someone gets hurt. The good news is, I don’t think it happens any time in the near future. So would you like the details now, or should I wait a while?”

  In one demanding voice, they say, “Now!”

  I tell my family everything about the masked strangers and the voice who cries out for my help. I do my best not to leave anything out, but it still doesn’t seem like I’m telling them enough.

  They ask questions. I answer what I can. I explain that even though they’re always partial visions, each time they come back I see something new—which seems to reassure them a bit.

  I’m surprised at how well they’re handling it. For some reason, I just assumed they’d panic. But I’m so relieved they didn’t. This will make it much easier to keep my promise from now on.

  After lunch, we go about our day as though it were any other day. We sit in the sun, talk about Pap, and we try to help Aunt Morgan decide how to deliver the news to Michael.

  I don’t think any of us envy her that. But I know she’ll figure out the best course of action. If anyone can, it’s Aunt Morgan.

  At one point, we notice Michael’s white Volkswagen Jetta in the driveway next door. I wonder if he’ll stop by again? But given the frosty greeting from Aunt Morgan the other day, it’s not likely.

  We spend the afternoon enjoying the spectacular weather until about 6:00, when we go inside to clean up for dinner. Once I finish changing, I go back outside to visit my favorite swing on the front porch.

  I have so many things on my mind to think about. Pap, Hunter, the Russo’s, and the visions. My mind jumps back and forth between all of them, unable to maintain enough concentration to stay on just one.

  As I continue battling my ADD thoughts, my cell phone beeps from a text. I press the little envelope, but don’t recognize the displayed number above the message.

  Stranger: “R U busy?”

  Me: “No. Who’s this?”

  I wait a minute for a response.

  Stranger: “U really don’t know?”

  My curiosity gets the best of me. “No clue . . . just tell me who this is already!”

  A few minutes go by as I wait for a response, but nothing. Okay, who’s screwing with me? Did Dru give one of his friends my number last night? Vinny maybe?

  Ten minutes later I see an unfamiliar vehicle pull in the drive. The windows have tint so dark, I can’t see who’s driving the black and chrome Ford Edge.

  I continue swinging, the revving engine overpowers the sound of the creaking chains.

  Maybe it’s Caleb coming to see Dhelia. The spotless SUV looks like something a tough guy would drive.

  The door swings open and out steps Hunter, the sun glistening in his thick, damp hair.

  Hunter? At my house? Seriously?

  My heart explodes from my chest as I spring to my feet.

  What’s he doing here—but more importantly—how in the hell does he even know where I live?

  His face is expressionless, but he seems nervous. Jittery even. Why would he be nervous? If anyone should be, it should be me. You know, the one who ran away like a just-about-to-be-munched-on-squirrel.

  I step off the porch as Hunter saunters around his vehicle.

  Our eyes lock.

  “Since you said you weren’t busy, I figured I’d stop by for a talk. And to give you these.”

  What? “Huh?”

  “The text message . . . .”

  Oh! “That was you?” How the . . . ?

  “Yeah, it was me. When I realized your sister hadn’t told you she gave me your number earlier, I wasn’t sure what to say. Sorry about that.”

  Dhelia? Of course. Why am I not surprised? “It’s okay. So I take it she gave you the address, too?” My eyebrows lift, waiting for his answer.

  “No. Actually, that would be your gram. She invited me for dinner.

  Obviously she didn’t tell you either.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

  “Obviously.” So much for our talk today about honesty. Nice!

  “Is it okay I’m here? I don’t wanna freak you out again.”

  Why’s he acting like he did something wrong?

  “No, no. It’s fine. I was actually wishing I had a way to contact you, but kicked myself that we never exchanged numbers.”

  “So then you’re not upset they went behind your back again?”

  “No, not mad, per se. Just annoyed they won’t give me a little credit. I just don’t understand why they didn’t tell me. We just had a big discussion this afternoon about ‘family honesty’.” Glancing behind me towards the front door to the house, I cross my arms over my chest.

  “Can you blame them? You are a bit skittish. I mean, would you have even gone to the party if you knew I was going? And tell me you wouldn’t have gone somewhere else if you knew I was coming to dinner tonight? Am I wrong?”

  “Um . . . well . . . I don’t know. Last night I might have, but not today. I’ve been feeling way too guilty.” I look down. He sure hit the nail on the head. “Okay, maybe I would have disappeared today, too.”

  “Exactly!”

  “I still wish they’d just tell me. I handle things better when I’m prepared.”

  “I get that. But let’s make a deal. If you promise to sit down and talk to me about last night . . . I promise nothing will be withheld from you anymore about me.”

  I consider his proposition for a second, rubbing my chin like it’s a difficult decision. “Okay, that sounds fair. Though, I’m surprised you’d want to talk after the way I acted last night.”

  “Why? I feel terrible. First, I show up at a party you went to with your family, completely uninvited by you. Then I kiss you when you clearly weren’t ready for it. I pushed myself on you and I couldn’t feel worse about it. I feel like a dirt ball. If I were you, I would have run away too.” He has trouble looking me in the eyes. “Not to mention the fact that I left the party without giving you a chance to calm down so you could explain.” He pulls out a gorgeous bouquet of pink Lotus flowers from behind his back. “Which is why I brought you these.”

  For me? “That was so sweet of you, Hunter. Thank you. But you really didn’t have to do that.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t have to. But I wanted to.”

  My cheeks heat up. “Well then, thank you. They’re beautiful. But how did you know the Lotus was a family favorite?”

  “Do you re
ally need to ask?”

  Gram. Of course. “Is there anything she hasn’t told you?”

  He laughs under his breath.

  Now I feel like a certifiable ass for making him feel so bad he felt the need to bring me flowers. But I love that he did.

  Actually, I don’t think a guy has ever given me flowers before.

  I grab his hand, pulling him up to the swing with me. “Hunter, trust me . . . you have nothing to feel bad about. If I didn’t want you to kiss me, it wouldn’t have happened. Truth is, I wanted you to all night. I just got scared. Plain and simple.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me—but the one thing I’ll tell you now is—I’ve never let myself get close to a guy before. I’ve had boyfriends, but I’ve never had the type of connection I have with you. It scares the crap out of me, and I don’t know what to do about it.” I look down, fiddling with the bouquet. “Technically, I don’t have room for a relationship right now. But I can’t imagine not spending time with you after getting to know you a bit. I’m torn between what my heart desperately wants—and what my mind is convinced I need.

  “I’m drawn to you in a way I’ve never experienced. I feel like a piece of metal being pulled towards a giant magnet. The harder I try to grab onto something to stop me, the stronger and faster it pulls me in your direction. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I figured the truth is the best option after last night. I owe you that much. I am so sorry if I hurt you by running away. It was no reflection on you, I swear. I just panicked.” I look up to see his expression.

  A faint smile curls around the corners of his magnificent mouth. “Chloe . . . it’s okay. You don’t need to explain yourself. I didn’t even think you liked me, so it’s good to know you’re feeling exactly the same things I’m feeling.” He shakes his head. “Trust me, I wasn’t prepared for you either. And I have no clue what to do.” He digs his feet in to give us a good push on the swing.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me as well, so try to remember you’re not in this alone. We’re going through this together. In every way. For crying out loud, I’ve only known you for a few days, and I’ve become so consumed by you it could compromise my job.”

  Huh? “Compromise your job how?”

  He twists in his seat uncomfortably. “I um . . . well . . . I can’t keep my mind on my work. You know. I ah…I could hurt someone, or get hurt myself because I’m not paying attention. I’m distracted all the time.”

  Because of me? “Oh. Well that’s not good. I’d feel terrible if something bad happened because of me.”

  “I’m sure I’m just being paranoid. I guess we’ll know on Monday when I go back to work.” He smiles for the first time, making me feel a little better.

  Without warning, Dru and Dhelia come barreling outside and startle us.

  “Is everything okay out here?” Dru’s wearing that protective face I’m starting to get used to.

  Hunter and I turn to look at each other and smile.

  I look up at Dru. “Everything is just fine. We had a little ‘miscommunication’ last night, but we’re clearing it up now.”

  Looking pleased with herself, Dhelia holds her head high. “That’s good. So you’re not mad at me then for giving him your number?”

  Dru shoots her a look of annoyance, which she ignores.

  “No, I’m not mad. I’m kinda grateful, actually. But Hunter and I made a promise to each other. No more secrets kept from me about him! You got it?” I scrunch my eyes warningly.

  “Sure. But what was your end of the deal?” Dhelia asks.

  “Oh, I ah…I promised to talk to him.” Hunter and I both laugh at how funny it now sounds.

  “Works for me. No. More. Secrets.” Dhelia sends us a playful smile.

  Dru taps his foot, not even trying to hide his agitation. “No more secrets from any of us.” He pokes Dhelia in the ribs.

  “Ouch. Okay. No more secrets from anyone.” She jumps up and down as a sparkly silver Taurus pulls in. Must definitely be Caleb this time.

  “I’ll be back in a few. I’m heading out to pick-up Peyton,” Dru says, stepping off the porch around Dhelia.

  “Okay. Drive safe.” I chuckle as he turns to snarl at me.

  Caleb walks up, greeting Dhelia the same way he did last night before turning to us. “Hey guys, nice ta see you again.”

  “Hi, Caleb.” I smile as Hunter nods.

  “Well, we’ll let you two get back to working out your ‘miscommunication’ (she air quotes for extra emphasis). See you inside for dinner.” Dhelia sends Hunter a sly wink before disappearing into the house with Caleb.

  “What was that about? It seems I missed you bonding with my sister.”

  “Let’s just say, Dhelia wants to see us together. She’ll pretty much do whatever she can to help the process along.” He stares me down as though he’s waiting for me to say something negative, eyes narrowing.

  “Seriously? That’s surprising. But it still doesn’t explain why she got so upset with me for ditching you.”

  “Yeah, she wasn’t happy about that. But she tried to explain that it wasn’t about me personally.”

  “Oh, did she now?” I shake my head in disbelief.

  Hunter laughs. “It’s all good. Honest.”

  “If you say so.” It’s hard for me to imagine anything with my sister being ‘all good’.

  “So back to our conversation. What do you think we should do about this position we find ourselves in?” Hunter stares me down, awaiting my answer.

  “What do you want us to do?”

  He nods with a grin, appreciating me turning his question back on him. “Well, I guess we should just take it one day at a time. Definitely take it slow . . . but spend time together and see where it goes.”

  “It’s hard to argue with such logic. I think I can handle that.” Relief must be etched across my now smiling face.

  “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Before I can say anything else, he pulls a flower from the bouquet and slides it behind my ear, then leans in to lay a tender kiss upon my lips.

  My heart pounds. How could I have ever walked away from such a perfect guy?

  A few seconds later when he pulls away, he looks me in the eyes. “Well, Miss Chloe. Shall we go inside to join your family?”

  Do we have to?

  But I’m not able to say much after such a sweet surprise, so I nod. Hunter stands up, holding his hand out for mine. His cheeks light up the second our hands touch.

  “Oh yeah, before I forget. Can I see your phone for a sec?”

  “Um, okay.” I hand it over.

  Hunter types in something—pulls out his vibrating phone—then hands mine back. “There. Now we can get ahold of each other whenever we want.”

  As usual, his smile renders me speechless.

  Sometimes it’s the little things that truly make us the happiest.

  Chapter 11

  REUNITED