Eternal Choice: (The Cursed Series, Book 2)

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Eternal Choice: (The Cursed Series, Book 2) Page 6

by Kara Leigh Miller


  “Have fun you two,” Larissa said as she opened the door for us, a smile still plastered across her face.

  I’d bet, when she was younger, she’d been exactly like Abby—overly dramatic and gossipy. Or maybe she’d been like Olivia—beautiful, popular. Mean. I prayed she didn’t wait up for me and ask me a billion questions.

  “See you later.” I waved and led Simon out of the house.

  Thankfully, Dad and Larissa didn’t follow us out onto the porch.

  Simon stood next to a sleek, black BMW, the passenger’s side door open. “Ladies first.” He nodded toward the car interior.

  “Thanks.” I climbed in.

  The cool of the leather seats permeated my jeans, causing me to shiver slightly. Good thing I hadn’t worn shorts. Simon jogged around the front of the car and got into the driver’s seat.

  “Where are your sister and her boyfriend?” I asked.

  “They drove separately. They’ll meet us there.” He started the car, and the engine purred to life. “They probably wanted to sneak in a quick shag before the show.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  I laughed. “That’s a mental image I didn’t want.” I hooked my seat belt.

  But at least I didn’t have to be trapped in a car with Olivia, and the concert would be crowded, so it would be easy to avoid her there, too. The night was getting better already.

  On the way to the show, Simon and I chatted about school and how I was looking for a job just so I wouldn’t be so bored all the time. I left out any mention of tutoring Jaxon, though, because I didn’t need Simon to tell anyone else. Not that I thought he would, but if Olivia found out… Yeah, I didn’t want to even think about what she would do with that information.

  I’d been wrong about parking—Simon, of course, had VIP parking privileges, so we didn’t have to drive around looking for a spot, which was great. And the walk into the venue was short, which was really awesome considering we were both dressed in jeans, and the temperatures were still in the mid-nineties.

  The place was packed with wall to wall people dressed in varying degrees of black, gray, and dark blue. The lights were already dimmed, and the opening act was coming onto the stage.

  “Looks like we made it just in time,” I said. “Where are our seats?”

  “We don’t have seats.” Simon grinned playfully. “We’re on the floor, center stage.”

  “What?” I said around a shocked laugh. “We’re in the pit?”

  He laughed. “No. I’m not suicidal.” He gave me a knowing smile. “We’re in the VIP section.” He nodded to an area that had been cordoned off.

  I had no idea why I was surprised—this was Simon Parker—of course he wouldn’t settle for anything less than the best. I wasn’t sure how I felt about standing for the duration of the concert, though, especially when Black Veil Brides came on and the moshing and crowd surfing started. Things could get pretty wild, and I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it.

  “No other way to see a concert.” He took my hand and led me toward the stage.

  His hold was firm, and his palm was warm, fully enveloping mine. I waited for a tiny thrill or butterflies, anything to prove I had some type of feelings for Simon, but there was nothing, not even a hint of disappointment that I didn’t have any physical reaction to his touch.

  I eased my hand from his, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. The lights went out, and the crowd screamed. Moments later, the stage lit up with a rainbow of lights, each color bouncing in a different direction, creating a kaleidoscope effect.

  The opening act—Asking Alexandria—played the beginning chords of their first song. I didn’t know them or any of their music, but they were good, and by their third song, I was moving to the beat and screaming along with everyone else.

  Simon looked over at me and smiled wide, giving me two thumbs up as he did a weird hip shake dance move. I flung my head back and laughed. By the time Asking Alexandria finished their set, I was sweaty, and my throat was dry, but I was having fun.

  “Let’s get a drink, yeah?” Simon said.

  I nodded, and we pushed our way through the crowd toward the bar. Once again taking my hand, Simon tugged me forward, and I stood closely behind him as he waited to order our drinks.

  Olivia and her boyfriend hadn’t arrived yet—not that I was complaining. Maybe I’d get lucky and she’d decide not to come at all. I doubted it, though. My ears rang from how loud the music was, and I swallowed a few times, hoping my ears would pop and I’d be able to hear a little better.

  “What do you want?” Simon asked.

  “Oh, water please.”

  My throat was on fire from screaming so much, and it would only get worse once Black Veil Brides took the stage.

  Simon turned back to the bar, and I glanced around. My gaze swept the room and landed on a tall figure standing in the corner.

  He had dark hair, strong features, blue eyes… He looked so much like Jaxon, but it wasn’t Jaxon. This guy had smaller muscles and was slightly taller. I was positive he was the same guy I’d seen standing across the street from the bookstore the other day, though. What was he doing here?

  As if he could sense me staring, he met my gaze.

  My heart raced, and the pull in my chest was so strong I had to consciously force myself not to move, despite the tingling in my legs, that restlessness that wouldn’t go away until you moved or stretched. Thank God Simon was still holding my hand; otherwise, I would’ve approached the strange man and demanded to know why he was following me.

  I licked my lips, my gaze still hyper-focused on him. The corner of his mouth lifted into an almost smile, and his eyes narrowed slightly, like he was trying to figure out who I was and why I was staring at him. His arms were crossed over his chest.

  There was no denying how attractive he was, and the butterflies that were dormant when Simon touched me were now in a frenzy. I took a deep breath, but I couldn’t tear my gaze from him. It was as if he had me under some sort of spell.

  “Chloe?”

  The twisted syllables of my name drew my attention back to Simon. He held out a bottle of water.

  I took it and smiled. “Thanks.”

  He ushered me away from the bar, and we perused the vendor tables filled with band merchandise. He picked up an Asking Alexandria CD and flipped it over to read the back.

  While he was occupied, I looked around for my tall, dark mystery man, but he was gone. Disappointment landed like an anvil in my gut.

  It was creepy how much he looked like Jaxon, though, right down to the same piercing blue eyes. Maybe Jaxon had a brother he never told me about. But what were the chances Jaxon’s brother would be at this concert? Or that I’d be the one to see him?

  Simon set the CD back on the table. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  He shrugged. “You seem distracted.”

  “No… There’s just a lot of people, and it’s hard to talk with all the noise.”

  He nodded, but I wasn’t convinced he believed me. In the other room, someone announced that the show would resume in five minutes.

  Simon’s eyes lit up. “C’mon.”

  “We should get closer to the stage,” I said loudly over the crowd.

  He stopped and glanced back at me. “Yeah?”

  I grinned and nodded. “Yeah, I want to make sure we’re right up front for BVB.”

  If things got out of control, we could always go back to the VIP section, but I wanted the full rock concert experience. Who knew if I’d ever get to do this again?

  Excitement welled in my chest, and I shouldered my way through the crowds until we were directly in front of the stage. Then I noticed Olivia and her boyfriend. They stood a few feet away from Simon.

  When she saw me, she scrunched up her face in disgust and rolled her eyes. Jaxon’s advice ran through my head—she’s a mean girl, you be a meaner girl.

  I gave her an equally dirty look. Seriously, what was her issue
with me? Just because I wasn’t filthy rich, and I had more brains than money that made me somehow unworthy of being in her presence? Well, she could go suck on a nail gun.

  The arena was plunged into darkness, and the crowd erupted with deafening screams. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, colorful lights jumped around the room, changing from white to blue to purple and back again.

  The band members burst onto the stage, and the shouts grew louder. My heart thundered in my ears, and I wore a grin that threatened to split my face.

  The early beats of “Wake Up” started, and I threw my hands in the air with an excited whoop, my body swaying to the music. The electric energy around me was contagious, and I sang along loudly, knowing no one would actually hear me.

  Beside me, Simon had one arm in the air, steadily rocking forward with a fist pump.

  Fog billowed from the stage and swirled out toward the crowd. My chest tightened, and my eyes burned. I coughed, blinked, and waved my hand in front of my face, but the fog only seemed to get thicker. My vision blurred, and everything around me shifted out of focus.

  Something frighteningly familiar hung in the air—the fog, the fear, the confusion—I’d been in this situation before. Hadn’t I? I wasn’t positive, but the feeling I had been was so strong it threatened to choke me.

  Taking a few steps back, I looked for a way out of the crowd, a place I could escape to for a moment, just long enough to catch my breath. Someone bumped into me, and I stumbled into someone else as people rushed closer to the stage, ping-ponging me between various bodies. I was trapped.

  “Simon!” I shouted.

  But he couldn’t hear me over the roar of the music, and soon, we were separated by a few dozen people. I spun around, panic seizing me. I needed to get out of here. Bending over, I clutched my stomach and squeezed my eyes shut.

  Strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me off my feet and spinning me around as a someone landed hard on the floor where I’d just been hunched over. I let out a small gasp, and then I realized my body was pressed against a wall of muscle.

  Slowly, I lifted my head, and the breath rushed from my lungs.

  It was the mystery man.

  Fear strangled my ability to speak, and I was paralyzed, unable to shove him away and run—which was exactly what my mind was screaming at me to do.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  The noise and chaos around me dulled to a low hum, making it too easy to hear him. And good God, that voice—it could melt the polar ice caps.

  All I could manage was a nod. I was lost in the depths of his ocean blue eyes, mesmerized by his presence. His arms were still around me, holding me to him. Tingles shot through me, and my pulse was like a jackhammer, pounding against every nerve ending in my body. Fear gave way to something else, something just as primal.

  He stared down at me, his eyes darkening, and there was something in his gaze… something intimately familiar, like he knew me. But I was positive I didn’t know him and had never known him, because he wasn’t the kind of guy I’d so easily forget.

  “Chloe!” Simon shouted.

  The guy’s body tensed, and I swore his chest rumbled with a throaty growl.

  I spun around. “I’m right here,” I said.

  Simon stopped and tilted his head. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  I nodded. “I’m fine. I promise. I would’ve been crushed in the mosh pit if this guy hadn’t saved me.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to thank the mystery man, but he was gone. I turned in a full circle, hoping he’d simply moved away from Simon, but the guy was gone. Vanished. My heart sank.

  Simon put his hands on my shoulders before dragging his palms down my arms and lacing our fingers. “I was worried maybe I lost you.”

  “Nope, you’re still stuck with me.” I forced a laugh.

  “Then I’m the luckiest guy here.” He flashed a grin.

  I smiled back, and the tension that had been sitting on my chest lifted. We squeezed our way back to the VIP section and watched the rest of the concert.

  But as much as I wanted to enjoy the show, I was distracted, constantly glancing around for the guy who’d rescued me. I really wanted to see him again, and that need grew as the night progressed until it was a physical thing clawing at my insides.

  CHAPTER EIGHT:

  Déjà vu

  CHANDELIERS DRAPED IN CRYSTALS THAT GLITTERED like diamonds hung from the ceiling, and soft candlelight flickered over the banquet hall, giving the room an intimate atmosphere. I ran my hand over the royal blue, silk tablecloth. My gold rimmed dinner plate sat empty in front of me, and my Swarovski champagne glass had barely a sip remaining.

  The food had been exquisite, and I devoured it, despite the stern looks from my father and Larissa. Too bad I couldn’t have seconds—I’d make them disappear, too. The prime rib had been so tender I hadn’t needed a knife to slice through it, and the seasoned rice was cooked to perfection.

  The woman who stood at the front of the room continued to drone on about the local children’s hospital and how “your donations can save lives.” I wasn’t listening as intently as I probably should be, but I also didn’t have money to donate, so I wasn’t really her target audience. I was only here because I’d made a deal with Dad and Larissa.

  Finally, the woman stopped talking, and the music resumed. Couples moved toward the dance floor while many others headed toward the donation table. I remained seated.

  Now that dinner was over and Larissa had her checkbook in her hand, I hoped we’d leave soon. After being out late last night, and then not sleeping thanks to dreams about a certain dark-haired mystery man, all I wanted to do was go home, change into comfy pajamas, and pass out.

  “I’m going to go use the restroom,” I said to Dad, excusing myself from the table.

  My heels clicked against the marble floor, and I mentally cringed with each step. Why did I have to wear such noisy shoes? I glanced around, positive everyone was staring, but I might as well have been invisible for all the attention I was getting. Story of my life.

  Despite the terrible shoes, this dress was amazing. Strapless, fitted black, floor length silk nicely accentuated my hips. The material was cool against my skin, and I hadn’t needed the matching, sheer wrap that Larissa had insisted on buying.

  I pulled open the heavy wooden door and stepped into the bathroom, if it could be called that. It was more like a full-service spa. A woman dressed in a black suit nodded at me and smiled. Then, she escorted me to an empty stall, holding the door for me.

  Hesitantly, I entered. She wasn’t going to follow and offer to help, was she? Thankfully, she closed the door, and the rubber soles of her shoes squeaked across the floor as she retreated.

  I blew out a breath. That was uncomfortable. Malibu was like an entirely different world. I quickly did my business and walked out of the stall before the attendant decided to “help” me again.

  When I approached the row of sinks, the same woman was there waiting for me. She turned on the water and then held out a bottle of soap. I stared at her, unsure what to do. Slowly, I extended my hand, and she squirted a heap of foamy soap into my palm.

  “Thanks.” I smiled and washed my hands.

  As soon as I was finished, she turned off the water and handed me a warm towel. Nodding, I gave her another smile and dried my hands. I exited the bathroom and noticed a small table with a wicker basket. Inside was a wad of bills. Tips.

  I frowned. I didn’t have any money to give her. I’d have to get some cash from Dad and bring it back here for her. Even though I hadn’t asked for her help, it didn’t feel right to snub her.

  Shoving open the door, I walked out of the bathroom. The air conditioning in the hall blasted me, and I shivered. It was suddenly like the arctic in here. Rubbing my hands over my arms, I now cursed myself for not bringing the wrap.

  I made a beeline back to the banquet room, but before I reached the end of the hall, I stopped. Someone was behind me, watching
me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on edge, and I glanced over my shoulder.

  I was alone.

  Shuddering, I turned around, determined to get back to my table safely when I ran face first into a hard body.

  “Oof.” I stumbled back from the force. “Sorry.”

  “It’s my fault. I should know better than to stand in the way like this.”

  My ears rang, and I could feel the color drain from my face. That voice. It was him—the guy from the concert. I took several deep breaths and reached for the wall to steady myself, but my suddenly sweaty hand slipped, and my knees buckled.

  Before I could hit the floor, his arms were around me, hauling me against him exactly like he had last night. My vision blurred, and the bitter sting of bile coated my tongue. Intense heat washed over me at the same time a debilitating wave of déjà vu slammed into my consciousness.

  I’d been in this situation before—shocked, disoriented, physically sick over seeing someone who shouldn’t be there—and I knew clear to my soul that this guy had been there, too. He’d held me, and I’d pushed him away, frightened.

  My heart jackhammered, and I blinked. Just as quickly as it had happened, the memories vanished.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I focused my gaze on him. His eyes were a dark shade of blue, insistent and concerned.

  I nodded. “Yes,” I whispered. “Sorry I ran into you.”

  “It’s okay.” He smiled, and my stomach dropped like I was on a roller coaster, weightless and exciting. He flexed his hands on my waist, and my eyes fluttered closed of their own volition.

  Without thinking, I leaned into him, shamelessly using his body as my personal leaning post. I expected him to pull away, but he didn’t. In fact, he moved his hands around to my back and hugged me. I sighed with contentment.

  Someone cleared their throat. “Excuse me.”

  I jerked away, my face hot with embarrassment, and moved out of the way. “Sorry,” I mumbled with a forced smile. When the woman passed, I returned my attention to the guy. “You were at the concert last night.” I rolled my eyes. Could I have said anything dumber?

 

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