“That’s got to feel good,” her friend Tameka said with an easy laugh, falling into step beside her. Tameka was on the track team, and her events were shorter distances than Jessica’s two-hour overland route carried her. But the coaches were confident enough in both Tameka’s ability and Jessica’s demanding nature that they let Tameka skip practice twice a week to go to her after-school job. Anyone who could keep up with Jessica for even one class period didn’t need the extra practice time.
“Well, it’s what I’m supposed to do,” Jessica answered effortlessly, her blond curls pulled back in a ponytail that swung from side to side with each of her footfalls. She fought back a smile. Assigning laps was in her job description as teacher’s assistant, after all, even if handing them out as punishment wasn’t. Somehow she doubted the PE coaches would mind all that much that she’d made some of the more notorious whiners in the bunch run a little farther.
“I can’t swear that that’s what they meant by ‘keep ’em in line,’ but hey, I’m not complaining, girlfriend.”
They ran along for the rest of the class period without much conversation, both of them just enjoying the run. When the whistle blew signaling the end of the class period, they took several strides to slow down and walked it off, heading back inside to the locker room with a little less rush in their steps.
“Lookin’ good out there today, ladies,” Coach Miller called out, checking her clipboard for all of the students. “Tameka, good leg position on your front leg, but remember to really push off with your back leg through every stride. It’s where your power comes from, and it will take some of the work off your quads so you can finish strong.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tameka answered, her grin showing her perfect white teeth, offset by the caramel color of her skin. She was stunning, even if she’d never admit it, and her born-with-it running talent was just icing on the cake.
Coach Thompson, on the other hand, averted his gaze as Tameka walked in ahead of her friend, leaving Jessica to follow. He was still embarrassed about the ugly confrontation that had taken place with her stepmother when he’d showed up on their doorstep over a year ago, practically begging the monster that Jessica be allowed to go out for cross-country.
I tried to warn him, Jessica thought to herself with as much sympathy as she could muster. I didn’t know she was gonna go all “Exorcist” movie on him, but I knew it wasn’t going to go well.
Jessica and Tameka got dressed and said their goodbyes in the hallway as they headed in different directions. Jessica tried to walk confidently, knowing that she had absolutely nothing to be afraid of from these people. They might be petty or silly, but it wasn’t like she was their favorite victim. She knew better than that, and the truth—the reality that they left her alone because her father was dead and her stepmother made the term “abusive parent” look weak in comparison—was actually harder to swallow. She’d rather have been hated than pitied.
The rest of the day went well enough, if anyone could think of high school as a good thing. She wanted nothing more than to get through the day, get home unnoticed, and hide out in her room. Just like every other day.
Instead, Faydra had other plans for her, starting from the moment she stepped foot on the edge of their yard. It was like that woman had a sixth sense for when Jessica was close by. Surely to goodness she couldn’t actually smell Jessica, like some deranged watchdog.
Only today, Jessica was the one who could finally sense Faydra instead of the other way around. It wasn’t any kind of sensory experience she could pinpoint, more like she knew without even understanding it herself that Faydra was nearby and ready to pounce. Those seconds of warning gave her all the time she needed to prepare a defense, another skill she’d never known she needed.
Just as she rounded the mailbox at the edge of the street, a shove from her left—one that should have knocked her to the ground but instead barely moved her—made her wince before turning and blocking her stepmother’s slap with her forearm. The sudden motion dazed Faydra for a second. She stared at Jessica in wide-eyed disbelief before narrowing her eyes and letting her venom flow through her veins.
“How dare you raise your hand to me, you little bitch!” Faydra screamed for the sake of the neighborhood. She lunged at Jessica again, her arms outstretched to grab her by the back of her sweatshirt, but once again the younger girl was too fast for her, staying one move ahead. Faydra couldn’t help but show her surprise.
“Get away from me, Faydra. I’m not putting up with you right now!” Jessica turned to go in the house, ignoring the painful tingling running up her neck that reminded her how foolish it was to turn her back on Faydra. Her instincts were once again right. Her stepmother kicked her legs out from under her, gloating for only a second as she stood over Jessica before finally straddling her and looking down on her.
“Get up!” she hissed, grabbing Jessica by her backpack strap and pulling her up before tossing her aside with more force than a woman her age should have been able to. But instead of rolling to the ground and trying to scramble away from another barrage of abuse like she usually did, Jessica moved through her stepmother’s violent shove and continued forward until she was standing, turning defiantly and shoving her hands down at her sides as she glared.
“I told you I’m not in the mood for this! Now I’m going inside!” Jessica heard her voice come out of her mouth but didn’t recognize it. The anger at having taken the years of abuse without stepping up to defend herself fueled her fury even more. “Don’t even think about putting your hands on me again, either, because I’ll make sure you’re sorry!”
Jessica stormed towards the house, the strange sensation of warning absent this time. Sure enough, when she reached the front walk and turned towards the front door, she could see Faydra still standing where Jessica had left her, her hands on her hips, pure rage plainly distorting her face even from this distance.
Chapter 3
Dinner would be the real test. Faydra had always insisted Jessica cook them dinner as part of her daily chores, but maybe the woman had finally gotten smart enough to realize that she was done pushing the girl around. Or maybe she was actually afraid of being poisoned by whatever Jessica did to her food. It would serve her right for the furry bagel that had been breakfast.
I can’t even hope that she’s not sitting in the living room, plotting her revenge, Jessica thought to herself. Instead of misery, though, a new feeling had replaced all the hurt that she’d felt for the past six years, the agonizing time span since her father had died. Not that Faydra had ever been loving towards her—it had been a shock to everyone involved when Faydra had first suggested that she adopt Jessica, saying that it was the only way to ensure the girl didn’t go to foster care if something should happen to her dad—but every day had been miserable since that premonition had come true and Faydra had been stuck with a barely preteen girl.
She stopped crying herself to sleep at night years ago, mostly because there was no point. For someone to hear her muffled sobs and come running to comfort her, someone first had to care.
But not tonight. Whether it was the better day at school and the validation of a good friend, or just finally having had enough and standing up to Faydra afterwards she didn’t know, but either way, it was a mixture of thrilling power and shocking fear. She had no idea what had come over her, but she liked it .
The dream.
Jessica sat upright in her bed, staring around her room with new eyes. Everything looked the same, her room, her clothes, her backpack, all the same as always. But something was different. She was different.
And the only thing that had changed was the dream, the one that had woken her up in the middle of the night thousands of times drenched in a pool of her own sweat—and a different bodily liquid back when she was in kindergarten, if she wasn’t too ashamed to admit it. Only this time, the whole thing had changed at the end until she was in control, she was the one to be feared.
I hope I didn’t turn a stup
id dream into an excuse for Faydra to punish me tonight. Like I would ever eat someone’s heart. Gross, she thought, flopping back against her pillows and picking at the edge of her sweatshirt mindlessly, a whole new worry creasing her forehead. What if I’m not such a badass after all? She’s probably in the living room right now, plotting her revenge.
Instead, the house was silent, so quiet that Jessica had to wonder if she was finally home alone. When the gnawing in her stomach couldn’t be silenced with any more sips of water from her bathroom, she opened the door a crack and listened for a long few minutes. There was definitely a voice speaking somewhere in the house, but she couldn’t tell if it was Faydra or the television left on downstairs.
She crept down the stairs, an odd feeling of déjà vu almost crippling her as she remembered the scene from her dream. On the surface this was completely different, but beneath the part of her brain that held her conscious thought Jessica remembered it all too clearly.
At the bottom of the stairs, she turned to peer around the worn-smooth oak banister and jumped back when she saw Faydra standing with her back to her, the phone receiver of the old wall phone pressed to her ear. When she dared to look again, she saw Faydra’s knuckles were a bloodless white where she gripped the phone tightly.
“And what do you expect me to do about it?” her stepmother hissed into the phone, cupping her hand in front of her mouth. “I’m telling you, she’s strong!” There was a brief pause. “I don’t know, maybe it’s all her stupid running every day! I told you I should have taken her out of school after that coach came by here!”
Jessica stiffened. She’d suspected Faydra was talking about her, but she thought maybe she was just bitching to a friend of hers about her day. This didn’t sound like girlfriends complaining over a glass of wine at the end of the night. This was serious, darker.
“That’s the best you can come up with? And what exactly am I supposed to do with her body?” Faydra shrieked before remembering to be quiet. Jessica froze, her breath trapped in her lungs until she thought she might fall over. When she managed to gulp a chestful of air, she turned and tiptoed back up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to run but knowing it would give her away.
She made it to her room before panicking. Standing for only a minute with her back pressed tightly against her bedroom door—like that would save her if Faydra was determined to “hide the body”—she scanned her room as if the lone stuffed animal and a small pile of clothes would give her some kind of advice. The few posters taped to her walls didn’t offer her a plan of action, either.
Jessica finally came to her senses and took action. She grabbed her backpack from the floor beside her bed and dumped its contents in a small pile before shoving the few clean outfits she owned into the bottom of it. She rifled through her drawers for a few personal items before zipping it shut and contemplating the window. It was a serious drop to the ground below, but it was far better than the alternative.
With one last look around, Jessica opened her bedroom window and stuck her head out, torn between wanting to assess the situation carefully and wanting to live on in ignorance of what she was about to do. One tiny part of her brain reminded that her that Faydra would have a far easier time killing her if she was lying on the ground with two broken legs.
Kill me, she thought. Faydra was talking about killing me. I can’t believe this. This can’t really be happening.
She swung her feet through the open window first, letting them dangle over the edge. Instead of going for it and jumping, she turned over and tried to lower herself more, scraping her stomach painfully on the window ledge until she found herself hanging by her fingertips. She wished she’d thought to find a way to close the window behind her so her escape wouldn’t be so obvious to Faydra; piling up her pillows to look like she was asleep in her bed would have been a good idea, too. Too late now.
Jessica hung by her hands for as long as she could, remembering the feeling of standing on the edge of a swimming pool, wanting to swim but not wanting to experience the cold stabs of the icy water. She wanted to let go and drop to the ground so she could run to safety, but she knew it wasn’t going to feel good.
When she finally forced herself to loosen her grip on the window ledge, it took all of her conscious effort to not let out a yell. The drop was farther than it looked when the good guy tried this in movies. But instead of hitting the solid ground and possibly snapping her neck in two, Jessica hit something far stranger.
It felt like a person.
And if the sound he made was any sign, it was a flattened, surprised person. Jessica tried to roll off him, but her limbs were twisted with his. An unidentified but familiar and pleasant scent put her somewhat at ease, but then she remembered her mission and scrambled away.
“Who are you?” she hissed in an urgent whisper. “What are you doing here?”
“Jessica, wait. It’s me,” he began, fighting to breathe after the crushing attack on his ribcage from a falling girl. She cringed when she heard her name.
“Who? I mean… I don’t understand.” She stayed in a crouch, hoping the oversized hydrangea bush would provide enough of a cover if her stepmother was already on to her.
“I came here for you,” he began, but he stopped when the porch light behind him flicked on. Jessica pulled him by the sleeve of his flannel shirt until he was folded up behind her, both of them peering through the small green leaves to see if they’d been spotted.
Faydra walked the length of the porch and peered out into the darkness before coming down the steps to walk along the perimeter of the yard. Jessica and her unwelcomed guest pressed themselves against the house, trying to wedge themselves between the shrub and the limey bricks. They held their breath as she passed within only a few feet of them, stopping for a second—it didn’t make sense but Jessica was sure Faydra literally sniffed the air—and looking around before cursing again and storming back inside. The porch light went off before either of them could speak.
“Did she just sniff for you? Like, I don’t know… like a bloodhound or something?” the guy asked in Jessica’s ear. She startled at how close he was, having almost forgotten he was still there in her panic.
“More like a snake, I’d say,” she replied, still looking through the branches at the front door. It was minutes before her heartbeat slowed down and she felt safe making a run for it.
“Look, I don’t know why you’re here, but… thanks, I guess… you know, for breaking my fall and all that. But I’ve gotta go.” She gestured for him to go first so she could untangle herself from the hydrangea. He didn’t move.
Instead, he stared at her, watching her eyes with wavering resolve. She played along with his game for a moment before looking away.
“Um, what are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” he answered slowly. “I was thinking maybe there was some psychic connection that would explain what I’m doing here. You know, like a mind meld thing. Only I’m not getting the impression that you summoned me. Or that you actually want me here.”
Jessica weighed her words carefully. It was one thing to piss off her stepmother, but laughing at a crazy person wasn’t in her best interests. And this guy was obviously leaning towards the “not enough silverware for his picnic” end of the special needs spectrum. She watched him warily before he spoke again.
“Wow. That sounded pretty stupid, didn’t it? It’s weird, it sounded completely rational before it flew out of my mouth.” He looked over his shoulder again to see if anyone was still lurking around, tossing his chestnut mop of hair out of his eyes as he did.
“It’s not completely weird,” Jessica began. “I mean, if I had a dollar for every time some guy crept over to my house in the middle of the night and let me squash him while I plotted my escape… by the way, oh yeah! Who are you and why are you here?”
“I’m Conlan. Remember? From school?” He looked at her like that should have meant something. Jessica shook her head slowly. “You totally know me.
I’m the guy who takes the tickets in the lunch room, remember? It’s the only way to earn a third slice of pizza from the hairnet mafia.”
“Sorry, I don’t eat in the lunchroom.” She didn’t need to mention the fact that she rarely had lunch, thanks to her stepmother’s ideas about withholding food as an adequate form of punishment.
“Okay, how about you and I had algebra together in ninth grade? Well, most of the time. The rest of the time I was ditching algebra because all those shapes and theorems didn’t make any sense to me.”
“That’s because shapes and theorems are geometry,” she said, unable to resist pointing out the obvious.
“That would explain it,” he mumbled before turning on a 100-watt smile, letting her know he was joking.
“But really, why are you here? I’m grateful for the non-broken ankles and all, but what were you doing underneath my window?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“Well, that. Yeah. That’s a long story.”
“No, it’s not. People say ‘that’s a long story’ when they don’t want to answer something. It’s actually a really short story. You were somewhere else, then you were at my house. Somewhere in between those two facts is the short story. Go for it.”
Conlan sighed. “You’re not gonna believe me.”
Chapter 4
“That is both probably and actually true, but try me anyway,” she suggested in a way that let him know it was an order and not an actual suggestion.
“How can it be both? Never mind. Fine, I was sitting at home, minding my own business, when I decided I had to come to your house. Okay?” he demanded, frustrated. A noise behind their heads told them someone was on the other side of the wall they leaned against. They both jumped at the same time and bolted from their hiding spot, streaking towards the road with no more than a rustle in the grass beneath their feet. When Jessica headed left at the end of her driveway, Conlan grabbed her arm and pulled her in the other direction, pointing to his car when she tried to break loose of his hold.
Stolen Hearts: Book 1 (Grim's Labyrinth Series) Page 2