Eternal Choice: (The Cursed Series, Book 2)

by Kara Leigh Miller

  “We need to talk,” I said.

  He smirked with amusement. “About?”

  I glanced around. “Not here.”

  He unleashed his full smile on me, and I took an involuntary step forward. What was it about this guy that had me acting so crazy? Was it because Jaxon insisted I knew Trent? Were my reactions a result of whatever repressed memories I had of Trent?

  “If you want to be alone with me, just ask.” He closed the distance between us, and I could feel the heat radiating from his chest.

  I attempted to roll my eyes, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t have the sarcastic effect I was aiming for. There was no way I was going to be alone with him. Ever.

  Licking my lips, I took a deep breath. “Do you… feel it, too?” I asked.

  “Feel what?” He stared down at me, his gaze unflinching yet knowing.

  “You know,” I whispered. My gaze darted around, praying no one was watching or listening. “The déjà vu thing. Do you ever experience it around me?”

  He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe we need to do something to find out.”

  I sighed. “C’mon, Trent. I’m not messing around here.”

  “Neither am I.” He straightened and crossed his arms.

  “Just answer me. Please.” I was seconds away from begging, but I didn’t care.

  I needed to know what was happening to me every time I was near Trent, and I needed to know how I knew him but didn’t remember him.

  “I know that we know each other,” I said quietly, glancing around to make sure no one overheard me. “Jaxon confirmed it, but he won’t tell me how. Or why.”

  I studied Trent carefully. His eyes darkened, and his jaw tensed. I held my breath, waiting. Would he finally come clean about everything?

  He dropped his hands and rubbed the back of his neck. “Meet me after school, and we’ll talk.” Then, he walked away without another word.

  Well, that didn’t go as I’d planned, but at least he was willing to talk. Hopefully, he’d actually talk to me, unlike his brother had. Readjusting my backpack, I turned to head toward class.

  Olivia stared daggers at me. Normally, I would’ve put my head down, or walked around the long way to get to class, but this time, I smiled at her and walked by without a second thought.

  When I walked into class, Simon was sitting at my desk.

  “Um, you do know you’re not in this class, right?” I said around a laugh.

  “I know.” He smiled and slid out of my seat. “But you are.” He kissed my cheek, and this time, I didn’t pull away. Mostly because I was just so relieved he wasn’t ditching me. Because like it or not, I did need a friend, and I hated to admit it, but Jaxon was no longer that person. Not when he was lying to me and keeping secrets.

  Students filed into the room, and Simon stepped back. “See you at lunch,” he said.

  Hands in his pockets, he strolled out of the room, grinning. Olivia gave him a dirty look as she passed him, which she then turned on me.

  I quickly took my seat, refusing to let her ruin my good mood. Any class with Olivia was brutal, but this one was twice as bad as normal. She couldn’t seem to stop glaring at me.

  Thankfully, I didn’t have second period with her, and class progressed peacefully. I was the first one out of the room when the bell rang, and I rushed toward the English building. My cell phone vibrated in my back pocket.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Chloe?” There was a loud sob, followed by sniffling.

  “Yeah.” I stepped outside, away from the noise of the crowded hallway. “Ellie?”

  Why was she calling me now? She should be in school, too.

  “They did it. They finally told me.” Her words were strangled by uncontrollable crying.

  “I can barely understand you. Who did what?” I’d never heard her so upset before. Normally, she was happy and bubbly.

  “My parents.” She sniffled. “They finally told me they’re getting a divorce.”

  My heart sank. I leaned against the brick building, my mind reeling. This could not be happening, not to her. The night of her sleepover, she’d confided in me that she thought her parents might be getting divorced and that she was terrified of being forced to move, or having to choose between which parent she wanted to live with.

  “I’m so sorry, Ellie.” I closed my eyes and blew out a breath. Now, more than ever, I wanted to be home. I wanted to be there with Ellie, to hug her and let her cry on my shoulder.

  “You’re the only one I ever told. I didn’t know who else to call.” She hiccupped.

  “It’s okay. You can always call me,” I said softly.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled. “I just don’t know what to do. I mean, I kind of knew this was coming, but I still wasn’t prepared, y’know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” I sighed.

  Students rushed by to class, and I expected the bell to ring any second. Not that it mattered—I wasn’t going to hang up with Ellie just so I wouldn’t be late to class. She needed me, and I was determined to be here for her, even if we were hundreds of miles apart.

  “Ugh.” She groaned. “My mom’s coming. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Make sure you do,” I said.

  Slowly, I lowered my phone from my ear and blinked. Disbelief wrapped around me, suffocating me.

  What if Ellie’s parents made her move before I made it back home? I might never see her again. Next to Abby, Ellie was my best friend. The best friend I’d ever had, if I were being honest. I really needed to get back to Keene Valley. The sooner the better.

  “Everything all right?”

  I gasped at the sound of Trent’s voice. “You scared me.” Which was odd because I could normally sense him.

  He studied me with concern, waiting for a reply.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “Just got some bad news.” Pushing off the building, I shook my head. “But it’s okay.”

  “Want to get out of here?”

  “What?” I had to have misheard him. “What about school?”

  He shrugged. “What about it? You got bad news, and you want to talk to me, so… let’s get out of here.”

  “You want to skip school?” I asked.

  Trent nodded. “Why not?”

  “I’ve never skipped school before.”

  Ugh. I did not just say that. I mentally rolled my eyes at my utter lameness.

  “Never, huh?” He smiled as if he knew something I didn’t. “Well, allow me to be your first time.” His words dripped with innuendo, and he held out his hand.

  My gaze darted between his face and outstretched hand. A flurry of nerves erupted in my chest. What if the school called Larissa, or my dad? I’d be in so much trouble; my father would probably never let me out of the house. But I didn’t want to be here. Did I really want to be with Trent, though?

  Yes. I did.

  I placed my hand into his, and warmth spread through me like wildfire. A sense of safety enveloped me, and I knew I’d made the right choice. I’d deal with the consequences later.

  We rushed off campus, and he opened the passenger’s door of a sleek, black sports car. I climbed in and hooked my seat belt. The windows were tinted darker than the ones in the car Declan drove, and those ones were almost black.

  Shoot! I’d have to make sure Declan didn’t show up at school for me. I pulled out my cell phone just as Trent slid in behind the steering wheel. He eyed my phone and raised a brow.

  “Um, you can drive me home, right?” I asked.

  “If you want me to, yes.”

  “It’s either that or you have me back to the school by the final bell.” I pulled up Declan’s number, intent on texting him when I said, “That is the key to skipping school, isn’t it? Being back before anyone knows you’re gone?”

  He whipped his head around, eyes wide. “For someone who’s never skipped school before, you seem to know a lot about it.” He started the car, and the engine purred to life
.

  I shrugged. “Just seems like common sense.”

  Trent grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the visor, slipped them on, then drove—much too quickly—out of the parking lot. His crazy driving reminded me of Jaxon, and my stomach sank.

  I texted Simon first.

  Me: SOMETHING CAME UP AT HOME. HAD TO LEAVE. TALK LATER.

  Then I texted Declan to let him know I was catching a ride home with a friend. I turned my phone off and shoved it into my backpack.

  “Want to talk about the bad news you got?” he asked, his gaze never wavering from the road.

  “My best friend just found out her parents are getting divorced. She’s a mess, and I can’t even be there to comfort her.” I turned to stare out the window. “I miss her.”

  “I’m sorry.” Trent shifted, then accelerated as he navigated onto the Pacific Coast Highway.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, determined not to focus on what I couldn’t control. At least, not right now. Later, I’d talk with Ellie and do what I could to make her feel better.

  “Where do you want to go?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Where is there to go?”

  He chuckled softly.

  “What?” I asked, twisting in my seat to look at him.

  His profile was breathtaking. Then again, everything about him stole my breath. But right now, speeding down the PCH, he seemed… relaxed.

  “Nothing. It’s just, you tend to answer a question with another question. It’s… cute,” he said.

  “Cute?” I scrunched up my face in disgust. “Yeah, that’s what every girl wants to hear.”

  At that, he let out a deep, genuine laugh that reverberated through the tiny car. His fingers flexed against the gear shift seconds before he shifted into high and floored it. I pushed back against my seat, and I grabbed the door handle for safety as he took a tight curve way too fast.

  “If I knew you were going to try to kill me, I would’ve stayed at school,” I said.

  He slowed. “I’m not trying to kill you, Chloe.”

  Seriously, the way he said my name… he could convince me to commit the most heinous crimes with that tone.

  “Then slow down.” I gave him a dirty look.

  Trent slowed even more, and I leaned over to glance at the speedometer. His scent surrounded me, and I couldn’t stop from closing my eyes and inhaling deeply. A distant memory creeped into my consciousness, a moment exactly like this. I kept my eyes closed, struggling to get the memory to fully form, but it was just out of my reach. Foggy. Distorted.

  “Where are we going?” I whispered, although I had no idea why. But I knew his answer before he spoke. It’s a surprise.

  “It’s a surprise,” he answered, his voice extremely close.

  I’d had this conversation with Jaxon last week, but there was something different about having it with Trent. Knowledge clawed at me, scraping and scratching to be released, but I had no idea what I was supposed to know—other than what I was meant to say next.

  “I don’t like surprises…” My eyes snapped open, and my gaze collided with Trent’s.

  He’d removed his sunglasses, and he was staring at me, not the road. “It happened again, didn’t it?” he asked.

  I nodded. My throat was dry. “Did you…?”

  “Do you remember?” he asked.

  “Remember what?”

  Without answering, he pulled off the highway into a small, unofficial rest area. It looked more like a place people would pull off to make out, or do something illegal. He stopped and killed the engine. Then, he rested his arms on the steering wheel.

  “Trent?” My voice trembled. “What’s happening to me? Why do I keep having these weird reactions when I’m with you? How do I know you? Better yet, why don’t I remember you?”

  Did I, though? Did I truly know him? Or was this some sick joke or prank Jaxon was playing? But why would he do that? Why would Trent? If I didn’t get answers soon, I was going to snap.

  He let his head fall forward, but he still didn’t speak. In fact, he didn’t even breathe. He was deathly still. Momentary fear stole my breath. Hesitantly, I placed my hand on his shoulder.

  Finally, he turned his head to stare at me. His expression was conflicted, but it was his gaze that rendered me speechless—his eyes were downright tormented.

  We sat in silence for too long before I couldn’t take it a second longer. “Trent? Please. You have to answer me. What is happening?”

  “I don’t know.” His words were clipped.

  I may not know him well, or for very long, but every instinct I had was screaming at me. “You’re lying.” I unhooked my seat belt.

  “No.” He straightened. “I’m not. I don’t know how to answer you, Chloe, because I’ve never had to do this before.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but then snapped it shut. Nagging and unease swirled in my stomach, making me nauseous. I shoved the car door open and scrambled out, but I didn’t make it to the front of the car before Trent was by my side.

  “You need to answer me now,” he said.

  Despite the firmness of his words, his tone was nothing but gentle. He put his hands on my shoulders and peered into my eyes. Instinctively, I leaned closer.

  “Tell me what keeps happening,” he said.

  I hung my head, and my shoulders drooped. Trent’s hands coursed down my arms until he found my fingers and interlocked them with his. He gave my hands a reassuring squeeze, and I knew I had to tell him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

  Crazy Train

  “I’M NOT SURE I CAN EXPLAIN IT.” My palms were sweaty in his hands, but I couldn’t force myself to let go of him. Something about his touch grounded me, and right now, I needed something stable.

  “You have to try.” His voice was insistent, borderline demanding.

  “If I do, will you do the same? Will you tell me what you know?”

  Reluctantly, he nodded.

  I took a deep breath, struggling to find the words for something that made no sense. Trent remained unmoving, his gaze never wavering. I studied him, desperate to understand who he really was and why I was so drawn to him. His face reddened, like his skin was getting sunburnt right before my eyes.

  I tilted my head. “Are you okay?” I asked, leaning closer. “Your face…”

  He dropped my hands and turned away from me. “I’m sensitive to sunlight.” Then he moved faster than anyone I’d ever seen move back to the driver’s side door. “C’mon, let’s sit in the car and talk.”

  Slowly, I got back into the car. He’d turned the AC up on high, and the frigid air blasted me as I settled into my seat.

  “You sure you’re okay?” I asked.

  “I’m fine. Now, please stop stalling, and tell me what’s happening.”

  “I told you. I don’t think I can. It’s… weird.” I adjusted my seat so I was pushed all the way back from the dashboard. “It’s like déjà vu, but it’s not. I have this sensation that I’m reliving the same moment or conversation. I have the slight dizziness and disorientation that comes with déjà vu, but…”

  “But what?” His tone was encouraging, and the inside of the car suddenly felt a little too cozy.

  “But whatever moment or conversation that’s happening… it feels more like an actual memory. Which makes sense, I guess, if Jaxon is telling me the truth about knowing you.” I sliced a look at him, but he remained stoic, waiting for me to continue.

  “Everything about the memories, or whatever they are, are so vivid. I can smell things and hear things and feel things. It’s like I’m really there.” With a sigh, I rested my head on the back of the seat and closed my eyes.

  “What things?”

  My eyes popped open, and I glanced at him. “What?”

  “What feelings do you experience?”

  “Seriously, Trent?” I rolled my eyes.

  “What?” he asked innocently.

  “What feelings do I experience?” I said in a mocking ton
e.

  He nodded.

  My frustration built, and I turned to stare out the passenger’s window. How could I tell him what feelings I had during these episodes? He’d never understand. I already felt like I’d boarded the crazy train, and it was a one-way trip with no stops. I didn’t need him confirming I was crazy.

  “Chloe?” He took my hand. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

  I still couldn’t look at him, though. “Mostly confusion. But sometimes there’s more. Like this sense of complete safety and…” I chewed on my lip and slowly turned my head toward him. “Love. I have these really intense feelings of love. For you.”

  Trent’s expression didn’t show any emotion—none—not even shock.

  I stared at him in disbelief, and a silent stare-off ensued. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Surely, dropping the big “L” word on him like that must have freaked him out.

  “Thank you for telling me,” he finally said.

  I jerked my hand from his. “You have got to be kidding me. That’s really all you have to say to me right now?”

  A wave of dizziness hit me, making my head spin and my stomach roll. Yanking the handle along the side of the seat, I reclined it and squeezed my eyes shut.

  I tried to force all thoughts from my mind, to center myself until this feeling passed. But it wasn’t going away. In fact, it became stronger. Nausea coiled and twisted around in my gut. I inhaled several deep breaths through my mouth.

  Thank you for telling me.

  I’d heard those words before. From Trent. But that wasn’t possible, was it? I couldn’t have possibly forgotten him or entire conversation we might have had. Right?

  Trent reclined his seat, too, the sound causing me to snap out of it. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. When my heart calmed, I once again looked at him. He was so handsome it physically hurt.

  “Now it’s your turn. Do you ever experience anything like this?” I whispered.

  “No.” He gazed up at the roof of the car, unblinking. “But I do feel… different around you.”

  “Different?” I shifted so I was almost on my side in the seat, and I tucked my hands under the side of my face. “Different how?”