I’m thrown off balance as everything turns to darkness.
But something’s not right.
My body feels different somehow.
I lift my hand that’s holding something, but it’s not my hand. It’s manly. Calloused.
I’m somehow in someone else’s body—looking through their eyes—feeling what they feel.
I’m walking through the grass towards Gram’s house.
I go to the front door and knock—but no one answers.
I look behind me towards the cars in the driveway. I know they must be home. Perhaps they’re out back.
I walk around the house, stopping to peer through a window to see if anyone’s moving around.
As I pull my head away from the glass, I catch my reflection and gasp.
Peter Russo’s dark, haunting eyes stare back at me.
What the . . . .
His chest tightens over his evil deeds from twenty-one years ago. The lies and deceit make him shudder with guilt. At the time, he thought he was doing the right thing. But now—seeing how much damage the lies have caused—is more than he can handle.
All he wants in this world is to see the faces of his grandchildren—and to apologize to Morgan for what he’d done. He wants to repent for sins he’d committed, and he knows this will be the first step towards redemption.
His thoughts continue to whirl through my head.
As he walks around the side of the house, he notices a light coming from a room near the back.
When he makes it to the window of the sunroom, he stops—watching my family and me gathered around a body lying on a table.
His heart feels like it’s bursting from his chest.
He’s confused.
Panic swells inside him as he watches.
He wonders if he’s been right all along about the Witches doing human sacrifice.
He stands there watching—frozen—but he can’t help but stare at his handsome grandsons. He’s seeing them for the first time, and his heart threatens to stop.
He can see his son etched in their features. His wife was right.
The guilt for keeping his family apart wells up in his chest. Torturously.
Without warning, his guilt turns into fear as he sees things fly through the air inside the house.
He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can see the frightened eyes on his grandchildren.
Lightning strikes somewhere in the distance, making him leap.
As he turns his head to look behind him, a sudden downpour begins with more force than he thought possible.
As he tries shielding his face with his hands, a blinding flash of light explodes in front of him.
He blinks repeatedly, stunned by what he’s seeing.
He’s surrounded by blurry, glowing images of people.
They aren’t solid like normal people, but they’re visible enough to tell if they’re man or woman.
He scans the area around him, realizing he can’t even count how many there are.
A flash of realization crashes into his subconscious. They’re demons!
His fear is replaced by the same hatred he felt all those years ago, when he’d written those letters to his son and Morgan.
He’s more convinced than ever the family he’d come to see, are devil worshipers unleashing hell-on-earth.
He takes a deep breath—crosses himself—and runs back to his house screaming at the top of his lungs, “I knew it . . . I always knew it! They’re over there right now worshiping the devil and performing ritual sacrifice.”
His heart pounds so fast, and so hard.
Fear courses through his veins for himself—and for his family.
Then in a flash, the vision changes.
Swirls of light dance around him.
Where is he?
The sun shines down around him as he stands outside Starbucks.
His stomach is in knots, and he’s still upset from what he’d seen the night before. He takes a deep breath, prepared to take action.
“Mr. Russo.” A familiar male voice from behind draws his attention.
He spins around to greet the man.
“Agent Payne. Thanks for meeting me on such short notice. I finally saw the Witches in action last night. I saw them conjure demons in their back yard.” He waves his hands in the air like a madman. “Things were flying through the air, and they were surrounded by thousands of demons, just waiting for them to sacrifice the helpless person who was laying there. We have to stop them. We have to do something before they hurt my grandchildren.”
Hunter looks down, rubbing his forehead with his right hand. “Slow down, Mr. Russo, please. How did you see these ‘demons’ exactly?”
“Well, I walked over to the Crawford house because I wanted to see my grandchildren, and I wanted to apologize to Morgan for something I did a long time ago. I wanted to put the past behind us. They didn’t answer the front door, so I walked behind the house. When I got back there, I could see them through the windows, standing in a circle as they conjured demons that appeared out of thin air. I was horrified.” Mr. Russo paces in circles on the sidewalk.
“Do you have any proof, Mr. Russo? As I’ve told you before, you need solid evidence. I must say though, I’ve spent a lot of time with these people, and I don’t believe they are what you think they are. They’re good people who would never do anyone any type of harm. Were you drinking last night, Mr. Russo?” He shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Of course not. I know what I saw,” he says in a condescending tone.
“Well I’m sorry, Mr. Russo, but without evidence, I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do. In fact, I’ll be closing this case. I don’t feel there’s any sort of foul play or potential danger to anyone involved here. They’ve never hurt you . . . or anyone else. Maybe you should just leave them alone.”
Mr. Russo’s jaw drops. “So you won’t help me at all? The FBI won’t do anything?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Russo, but we’ve spent enough time looking into these people, and we don’t feel there’s anything here to pursue. My boss was already skeptical about taking on this case, but because of your family’s friendship with the Governor, we did him a favor.”
Mr. Russo’s anger escalates to the point it’s almost rage. I see red through his eyes.
“Fine! If the FBI won’t do anything, I’ll find someone who will!” He shakes a fist in Hunter’s face.
Then in another flash, Mr. Russo’s in a candlelit room.
He’s talking to his brother, Father Gabriel.
There’s a loud boom, then flames burst all around them.
Paralyzed by fear, Mr. Russo falls to the ground.
The flames close in around him, eager to devour his flesh.
Excruciating pain consumes him.
There’s another flash—and the vision stops.
My breathing labors as my eyes spring open.
I look around at the unfamiliar surroundings.
Someone’s squeezing me, lightly shaking my arm.
Then it hits me. I’m with Hunter at the Poetry reading.
Wait a minute. Hunter? The man I’m falling for? The man I just saw in my vision being addressed as ‘Agent Payne’?
I don’t understand. Was it real? This can’t be happening.
“Chloe? Are you okay? You’re scaring me. Please tell me you’re okay?”
I glance up at him, unsure.
But then I know. It’s real. It was all real. Or at least, it will be.
He pulls me to my feet so we can leave the room. We walk to a wooden bench and he helps me sit back down.
“What just happened in there? You were shaking. I almost thought you were having a seizure or something.”
I don’t know what to do, or say. I can’t even look at him.
I’m so consumed with fear and anger by what I just saw.
But I have to say something. “I don’t feel so well. Can you please take me home?” I ask, still unable to look at
him.
“Yeah, sure, whatever you want. As long as you’re okay.” The panic in his voice confuses me even more. It sounds so genuine.
“I’m fine. I just need to lay down.”
I don’t know what’s real anymore. I was having the best night of my life, but then it was interrupted by a vision that told me the man I’ve trusted, has been lying to me from the very first second.
My heart pounds, tiny explosions erupting inside my chest.
How can this be? How could I have fallen for someone who’s pretending to be someone else? And who’s pretending to care about me, just to get close to my family.
He’s investigating my family? My family? This is so insane.
They adore Hunter. My god, how can I tell them about this?
Before I know what’s happening, we’re in a cab heading back towards the parking garage.
He tries to put his arm around me, but his touch only agitates me.
I shove him away, forcing him off balance.
“Chloe, please tell me what’s wrong. You’re really freaking me out.”
I turn my head to look at him, disbelief from his words striking me like a baseball bat. “Are you kidding me?” I reply with a dry, sarcastic tone.
“Okay, what are you upset about? One minute, you’re pawing me to death from excitement. The next you look like you’re going to be sick. And now you’re angry with me? Please help me understand what I could have possibly done in the last fifteen minutes to deserve this?” The irritation in his voice sends chills up my spine.
The cab stops to let us out. Hunter pays the fair and we stand on the sidewalk for a minute before walking in the garage.
“You seriously don’t know what you did?” Are you kidding me?
“We were having a fantastic night. So, no. I have no clue.” He puts his hands in his pockets, glaring at me as he waits for an answer.
I don’t know what to say. Do I just blurt it out?
It’s apparent he knows my family’s ‘secret’, so I might as well just let him know what I saw. I’m sure he already knows I’m a Seer anyway. “Well, Agent Payne, I just don’t know what to tell you.” The tone in my voice—mixed with the one word that makes it clear I’m on to his secret—hits home.
His mouth falls open.
With his face pale white like he’s been shot in the chest, he tears his hands from his pockets then places them on top of his head. As he looks to the sky, he lets out a painful scream, dropping clenched fists to his sides.
He trembles for a minute, staring off into the distance. I’m sure he’s trying to come up with a good story since he knows I just busted him.
“You weren’t supposed to find out this way, Chloe. This wasn’t part of the plan.”
What? “The plan? So tell me, Agent Payne, what was the plan? Get me into bed then tell me you’ve been investigating my family?” Bile rises in my stomach at the thought.
“Of course not. That isn’t what I meant. I was planning to tell you . . . I swear. I was just waiting for the right time.”
“How could there ever be a right time to tell the girl you’ve been pretending to date, that you’ve been using her as a way to infiltrate her family?” Tears drown my eyes, no matter how hard I fight to hold them back.
“Look, I’ll tell you everything. But not here. This isn’t the place to have this conversation. Can we just get in my car?”
“Good idea. Take me home now.”
Hunter hangs his head, humiliation—or guilt—get the better of him. He pauses like he wants to say something, but shakes it off and starts walking towards the garage.
The entire drive back to Lindenhurst is in silence. I stare out the window, unsure if I want to break something—cry—or run back to California.
Thank god there isn’t much traffic.
When he pulls in the driveway, he puts the car in park but leaves it running. He turns to me. “Can I please explain things to you?”
He wants to talk now? After being silent the entire way back? Not a chance.
After considering his request for few seconds, I reply. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. It’s late. We’re both tired. And I’m way too angry to listen to anything you have to say.”
A heavy sigh escapes his lips. “I understand. I’ll leave you alone then. But I need to say one thing before I go. The only thing I ever lied to you about was my job. Everything else was the truth, Chloe. I never planned to f . . . .” He hesitates. “I never planned to fall for you, but I did.”
His gaze turns back towards the windshield.
What? I wasn’t expecting him to say something like that. The sad part is, all I wanted was to know how he feels about me. But now that he’s told me, it doesn’t matter. How can it?
My heart is irrevocably broken from his betrayal. The only thing I want is to crawl in a hole and die.
How could he do this to me? How could he use me this way?
The reservoir I’ve been protecting finally breaks, tears stream down my face as I replay his last words again in my head. Words I would have done anything to hear only an hour ago.
But I don’t have the strength to face him any longer.
I reach for the door handle. “I have to go.”
I push the door open and step out of his SUV, but look back as I fling the door shut. I don’t even care that he’ll see my tear-stained face. If anything, I want him to see just how much pain I’m now in because of him.
My legs move to carry me up the sidewalk, but the squeak of the window going down behind me reflexively forces me to stop.
“Chloe.”
With what little energy I have left, I turn my head back.
“I’m so sorry.” As the words leave Hunter’s lips, tears begin streaming down his cheeks.
Oh my god, I can’t look at him like this. I spin around and run to the house as fast as my size eights will carry me.
Quietly, so as not to draw attention to the front door, I close it behind me with a nearly inaudible squeak. Leaning my back against it, I lose control of my emotions as I inch my way to the floor. The second my butt makes contact with the ground—I roll on my side—curling up into fetal position.
Somehow, in the midst of my immeasurable heartache—I manage to cry myself to sleep—right there on the cold, marble tiles.
Tethered (A BirthRight Novel #1) Page 30