The Wanderers Beginning: The Wanderers, Reborn, & Unforgiven

by Jessica Miller

  “It's for her protection. She has been targeted and attacked, something that should have never happened in the first place. We should have never let her go to school so far away. We should have sent guardians with her from the beginning,” he rambled. He went through every possible scenario he thought that could have prevented this tragedy, but they both knew nothing would have changed the outcome.

  “Liam, you know we can't protect her all the time, unfortunately. She's growing up and needs to experience things on her own. I don't think keeping her here or having her guarded all the time would have changed things.” Liam sighed, knowing she was right. “You need to realize that right now Ella is the one suffering more than she should be.”

  “I'm doing the best I can,” he snapped. Liam hated the thought of his daughter having to endure what she did this past year. If he could have prevented it in any way he would have. He thought he had. He thought he was doing the right thing by not telling her what she really was, but now he's slowly learning maybe that wasn't the best idea. He scrubbed a hand down his face. If only he had been there, he could have stopped it.

  Jamila stood up, closing the distance between them. “You being there wouldn't have stopped it. We've already proven that. You can't blame yourself.” Liam turned to face his wife wondering how she always knew what he was thinking. “I know you Liam. So I will always know what you're thinking,” she said, giving him a small smile. “Outer wounds heal. Inside is where she's hurting the most. She needs time and suffocating her won't help.”

  “I know,” he said, bowing his head, feeling defeated. He looked at his wife, her beautiful face, her gorgeous green eyes, just like their daughters, her gracious smile. She was the picture of perfection and always had the ability to calm him when he needed it the most. He took her in his arms and inhaled her sweet scent, letting out a breath and instantly calming. “Just tell me what to do,” he said.

  “Just be patient,” Jamila smiled, kissing her husband on the lips.

  *

  Chapter two

  December 10

  It’s been over a month and today is the first day I feel…I feel less pain. I feel a little more like myself as opposed to someone trapped inside an empty shell. The pain I felt after losing Josie and Tristan was too unbearable. After everything that happened, I thought I needed something to help me ease the pain, a way to release some of the pressure. So I decided the only way I knew how to do that was to inflict pain on myself. I know now that my decision may not have been the best idea, but what’s done is done, I can’t change it now. I can say I don’t have any regrets though.

  I sat back and pushed up my sunglasses.

  I remember the first day it happened, when I made the decision to ease my pain. It was one day while we were heading back from the hospital after visiting Billy. On the drive back to the hotel we had passed a tattoo shop. I asked Gabe to pull over. “Miss Ella, I don’t think this is wise,” Gabe said.

  “I didn’t recall asking for your opinion. Now pull over,” I demanded. Gabe did as I asked and followed closely behind me as we entered the tattoo shop. I ignored all the stares I got from the people in the waiting room and proceeded to look around at all the different designs.

  A short, bald, heavy set man, covered from head to toe in tattoos came up to me. “Can I help you?” he asked in a deep voice.

  I straightened myself out, put on a brave face, and said, “Yes, I would like a tattoo.”

  He gave me a funny look, but obliged. “Alright, how about you pick some pretty thing off the wall and let me know what you decided.”

  I never took my eyes off of him. “I know what I want,” I said firm.

  He turned his head to Gabe, than back to me, and smiled creepily. “Let me guess, your boyfriend’s name inside a heart.”

  I turned to Gabe and laughed. Gabe just looked uncomfortable. Once I was able to contain my laughter, I gave Gabe an apologetic look and turned back to the tattoo guy. “No, I’m leaving it up to you.” He looked me up and down brows creased. To give him a little more incentive, I threw a couple hundred dollar bills on the counter in front of him. He eyed the money then signaled for me to follow him in the back. Gabe kept tight on my tail reminding me how much of a bad idea he thought this was. I ignored him and took a seat in the chair as the tattoo artist had directed me to.

  “How big and where do you want it?”

  I thought it over for a minute. “My back and as big as you can make it.” I took off my shirt giving him free range to do whatever he wanted. I knew I was taking a risk by letting him choose the design. I could end up with two naked ladies on my back, but at the moment I didn’t care. I sat in the chair trying not to let my nerves get the best of me. It was hard to listen to the buzzing sound coming from the other rooms. The longer I waited, the more I wanted to jump out of the chair, but I stayed strong.

  “Do you want a test shot?” he asked.

  “No, just do it,” I said so I wouldn’t back out.

  “This may hurt a little.”

  “That’s the plan,” I said to myself. I closed my eyes ready to take on the pain and boy did it hurt, a lot. Each drag of the needle felt like a hot razor on my skin. The pain I felt from the tattoo needle didn’t release the hurt I felt inside like I thought it would, but it still distracted me, at least for the time being. When he was done, he handed me a mirror to take a look at his work. He had covered my entire lower back with intricate swirls around a purple butterfly leading its way up to two brightly colored flowers.

  It was perfect.

  I turned to him and asked what had made him decide to do the design. He scratched his head saying he wasn’t sure. He said he just started drawing and this was the outcome. He said he felt like it was if someone was guiding him. I shrugged and threw another hundred at him telling him I’d be back. Gabe gave me a wary look as we left the shop. I knew he didn’t like the fact that I told them I would be back. When we got in the car I reminded him it would not be wise to tell my parents about our little detour. He nodded in agreement knowing he’d be in more trouble for taking me.

  I stopped by one more time before I left Vermont. I had gotten two more tattoos on my stomach and had become addicted to the pain.

  Once I got home, I figured out how to sneak out of the house undetected. I continued to get inked feeding the addiction for the pain. I kept most of them hidden the best I could. My lower back was covered as was my upper back and shoulders. I had four across my stomach and one that stretched from the top of my breast all the way down my ribs and back up the side. I also gotten one on my foot and thigh and every time I got a new one I would tell them the same thing. “I’m an open canvas, do what you want.” And each time after they were done I would ask them what made them decide on what to do. They all said the same thing. It just came to them, as if someone was guiding them on what to draw.

  I think a big part of why I went the tattoo route was because it wasn’t something I would normally do, but lately I didn’t feel much like myself so doing something out of the ordinary seemed like a good idea.

  Mom and dad don’t know about my little addiction, but they are about to find out soon enough. I keep myself covered most of the time so they have yet to see them, but being in my bathing suit is another story. There’s no hiding them then. I didn’t care. I was prepared for the storm that was about to erupt and was willing to take the consequences for it, or so I hope. Maybe I’ll just join a convent. Yeah, that would be pretty funny to see – a vampire nun – ha. Well hopefully after they find out they’ll be happy to know I’m done with the tattoo thing. After visiting Josie’s grave today, I no longer feel the need to inflict pain on myself. I feel that part of me has healed and someday I’ll find a way to heal the rest of myself. Until then I’ll have to find a way of releasing my pain without inflicting more.

  I put my journal aside and lay back against the chair. I lay there trying to think of a good way to break the news of my new body art to my parents. I knew deep down
there was no way to do it. Just then, my mom came out and sat in the chair beside me. The tattoo on my thigh was peeking out of the bottom of my shorts and caught her attention. “What’s this?” she asked, pulling up the side of my shorts. “Oh Ella, a tattoo?”

  I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.

  Her eyes shifted down my leg where she spotted the one on my foot. I’m surprised she didn’t see that one first. “Please tell me those are the only ones you have?” she asked, her face expressionless.

  “Well,” I said. I guess I might as well get it over with. I stood up and took my shirt and shorts off. She gaped at me as I spun around to show her. I couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad reaction.

  “Why?” she gasped.

  Okay, we’re going to go with bad.

  I shrugged. I couldn’t tell her the real reason, afraid she might have me committed. “Please tell me this is just a phase.”

  “You don’t have to worry mom. I promise I’m done. It was just a phase,” I said, sitting back down.

  She let out a sigh of relief and looked over my tattoos again. “They are…nice. I just wish there was less of them.” I rolled my eyes. I should be happy that’s the only reaction I got. “How about we just keep this between you and me? At least until I can find an easy way to break it to your father.”

  “What are you two trying to butter me up for?” my dad joked coming up behind us.

  So much for breaking it to him gently.

  I stood up from the chair and faced him. “Please tell me this is another side effect from your powers, like your hair?” I shook my head no. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Liam.”

  “No. This is not something she can weasel her way out of or something that can just be overlooked.”

  “What are you going to do ground me? Send me to my room? Because that would be a real change from the past month, and I’m eighteen. I don’t need your permission,” I snapped, not in the mood to hear a lecture from him. He had a lot of nerve coming down on me considering all the things he’s hidden from me over the years.

  “You are royalty and royals do not have tattoos,” he said with a distasteful look on his face.

  “Well I’m a royal who does so deal with it. It’s the twenty first century dad. I highly doubt that there isn’t a royal with at least one tattoo. And if that’s your only argument then you just lost.”

  “Don’t get smart with me young lady.”

  “Why am I next in line anyways? Why not Xander?”

  “He was, but he declined,” my dad said, biting back his tongue, and showing me there was more to it then he was letting on. Obviously more secrets he was keeping from me.

  I crossed my arms, annoyed. “And that’s okay? He can but I can’t? What about Dean?” My dad choked on a laugh. Even I knew that was a foolish question. Dean would end up having five wives and deal with his problems by getting drunk.

  “You will take over for me when the time comes. End of discussion.”

  “That’s not fair! I thought you said I had a choice!” I stomped my foot ready to throw a temper tantrum. I looked to my mom for help, but her lips were pressed into a tight line.

  “You did, until you started this…ridiculousness. Mutilating your body. For what?”

  “Artistic expression,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “From now on you will do as I say. You no longer have any more privileges.”

  “How is that any different from before?” I said, crossing my arms again.

  “Ella, don’t make this worse,” my mom said. I glared at her for just sitting there and not defending me.

  “All your expenses are cut off and you are not to leave this house, ever.”

  “Like I said, how is that any different?” I challenged my dad to come up with something better. I knew I was pushing my luck and would probably regret it, but I’d be damned if I was going to back down.

  “You are going to that school on the east coast,” he said with a smirk, knowing he got me.

  “What school?”

  “That special school that deals with our kind.”

  “What, no way! You can’t be serious?” Crap. I went too far.

  “Dead serious,” he said, smiling satisfied.

  “Just because I got a few tattoos?” I had a feeling that wasn’t the real reason but he was just using it as an excuse to send me there.

  “Who took you to get these tattoos?” he asked, avoiding my question.

  “No one,” I said, which was the truth.

  “Don’t lie to me. You cannot leave this house without any guardians,” he said, not believing me.

  “Yeah, well, maybe you should hire some new ones because it was pretty easy for me to sneak out undetected.” And it was, except when Gabe was here. He caught me a few times and refused to tag along saying, ‘he wouldn’t be part of my self-destructive behavior and that if I didn’t get back inside he would tell my dad.’ But when Gabe was busy on some errand, I had no problem sneaking pass the guardians that replaced him.

  “Ella, you are being reckless and it’s putting you in danger. This is a perfect example of why you should go to this school. You need to learn how to control your emotions.”

  “Yeah, because you do it so well,” I spat back.

  He noted my sarcastic tone with a glare. “Ella our powers are connected to our emotions and without proper control you could hurt someone or yourself and I can’t allow that to happen. You are going to that school end of discussion.”

  “Liam, don’t you think you’re being –”

  “No negotiations,” he said, cutting my mom off and turning to leave.

  I huffed, plopping down on the chair. “I’ll talk to him honey. I think he just needs some time to cool off,” my mom said, kissing my forehead before she took off. I sat there, pouting. I really got myself in deep now.

  “How’s it going?” Xander asked, taking mom’s seat. I pulled my sunglasses down and gave him an, ‘are you serious’ look. “Um, yeah, I heard.” I frowned at him. “Give him time. He’ll come around. He just needs to cool off.”

  “That’s what mom said, but I don’t think it will be that easy this time.”

  “How did you expect him to react?” he asked, looking at me like I should have known better.

  I just shrugged. “I’m still alive. I guess I could look at it as better than I expected,” I admitted, getting a chuckle from Xander.

  “You have to admit. The tattoo thing is a little out of sorts, even for you.”

  “I know, I just…” I didn’t know how to explain it to Xander. I knew I could tell him the truth and he wouldn’t judge me or think I was crazy, but I just didn’t think he’d understand.

  “Looking for a way to deal with the pain? To relieve some of the pressure?” he guessed.

  I nodded slowly. “What are you a mind reader or something?” I asked jokingly.

  “No, but I get it Ella. Trust me. I do.” He lifted up the back of his shirt to revel a tattoo he had on his shoulder – A Celtic cross. I never knew he had that, but what drew my attention wasn’t the tattoo. It was the scars beneath it that had me wondering.

  “When did you get that?”

  “A few years ago. After dad told me I was supposed to take his place on the royal court. I didn’t take the news so well.”

  “Yeah, well, you declined and now I have to take over, thanks.”

  “It wasn’t as easy as you think. It took a while for him to accept the fact that I didn’t want to take his place.”

  “Obviously you survived. Again, thanks.”

  “I see I’m going about this the wrong way. I wanna help you Ella –”

  “You wanna help me?” I interrupted. “Then tell dad you changed your mind and you will take over.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Sure it is. Hey dad, I changed my mind. I want to take over your spot on the royal court. See. Simple.”

  “Ella, that’s not what I mean
,” he groaned, frustrated. “The decision for me to not accept my seat on the court was mutual.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, thinking he was bullshitting me. No way would our dad let him off that easy.

  “I didn’t decline at first. I wanted to take the responsibility, but it became too much. Dad was on me every day and introducing me to all kinds of people. I had to be perfect all the time.”

  “Gee, thanks for the pep talk.”

  “Would you just let me finish before you make a smart ass comment,” he said, glaring at me like our father does. I nodded, allowing him to continue. “I’m not perfect,” I opened my mouth to retort, but he made me close it with just a look. “I couldn’t take the pressure. So I started to do bad things to relieve some of the stress I was feeling.”

  “The scars?” I asked. He gave a barely noticeable nod. “Not to sound like a moron, but, umm…how’d you reach back there?”

  “Dean.”

  “Wait, Dean did that?” He gave another slight nod. “He did it willingly?” I heard about brothers bonding but this was some kind of sick and twisted brotherly love I did not want to be a part of.

  “No, he refused. He said I was disturbed and he wouldn’t be pulled into my weird, twisted game.”

  “Then how…”

  “I compelled him. He didn’t know he was doing it.”

  “Oh,” was all I could manage at the moment. I had a million questions I wanted to ask but didn’t know how.

  Xander must have sensed it because he started to explain. “I thought having someone else do it wouldn’t be as bad as me doing it to myself. I had him mark up my shoulder so it wasn’t visible to me. I thought if I couldn’t see it, I wouldn’t have to admit how crazy I was.”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy,” I said, trying to make him feel better.

  “See, you’re not the only one who’s messed up,” he said, a smile starting to creep at the corner of his lips.

  “Shut up,” I said, pushing him and making him laugh.

  “Well, well, well. So it’s true. The precious Ella finally rebels. Good girl gone bad,” Dean said as he joined us by the pool.