Salvation and Secrets (Chastity Falls Book 2)

by L A Cotton

  “What is going on, Jackson?” I sighed, my heart weighing heavy in my chest. Something was up; I wasn’t stupid. Jackson hadn't once contacted me in almost six months. So why now?

  His eyes flashed with something and he straightened. It was subtle, but I noticed it. He was worried about something, which meant whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

  “Did you go over to Reibeckitt?”

  So there was something else… it wasn’t just that he couldn’t keep away any longer. I didn’t know which was stronger, but part of me was relieved and the other part was disappointed.

  “I went with Elena and the girls a couple of weeks back. Why?” I asked, but my gut already knew the answer, and I was sure it had to do with the guy who recognized me in the diner.

  Jackson clenched his right fist, and I felt the fury rolling off him. “I didn’t want to bring you into this shit storm. I don’t want to involve you… but Calder said some things. Things that make me think he knows about you. About us.”

  Us.

  Was there even an us anymore?

  He told me there wasn’t.

  “Stay away from Reibeckitt, Ana. And lay low. Things are happening. Things that are bigger than us…” He reached for me again, and I let him, unable to stop him even if I wanted. “I’ll do everything I can to stop you from being caught up in the crossfire, but Ana? Nobody can know.” Jackson’s lips were moving, but all I heard is white noise. My mind was still trying to process what he was telling me… that I was in danger. That I had somehow become a puppet Calder could use against Jackson, against Braiden? It made no sense. Braiden hated me. No, hate didn’t do justice to the level of disdain and contempt that Braiden Donohue had for me.

  “Ana, did you hear what I said?”

  My head nodded.

  “Are you okay?” Jackson’s face softened, only inches away from my own.

  My nails dug into my right wrist, between us. It wasn’t enough, but it helped. Just a little. “What choice do I have, right?”

  He drew me to him, tucking my face to his chest, and we stood quietly wrapped in each other. The revelations of the night lingered in the tiny space between us. But what more was there to say? Jackson had warned me all those months ago to stay away from him, but I didn’t. And now here we were—living a life we didn’t choose or want.

  After an undefined amount of time, Jackson untangled me out of his arms and pressed his lips to my forehead. I knew it was time—time to say goodbye and resume our façade. Except it wasn’t a façade anymore, it was reality. And it sucked.

  “I should go. Please stay safe and don’t take any risks.” His lips lingered for another second and I savored the moment. Imprinted it on my mind. I was so consumed with storing the feel of his lips against my skin that I almost missed his whisper. But I heard it loud and clear.

  “I love you.”

  Chapter 8

  ~JACKSON~

  I fucked up. But when she walked smack bang into me, I took it as a sign. Divine intervention. After spending hours with Briony and her fake friends and their jumped-up jock boyfriends, pretending to be something I wasn't, I needed Ana. Needed to see her to cleanse myself or something. And there she was right outside of Carver.

  But I let it go too far by kissing her like that. I walked away to protect her, to let her live a normal life, but Calder's words had festered, eating away at me until I could think about nothing else, and now I could see what I should have known all along—it was too late. I had dragged Ana into my shit, and now I had to find a way to get her out.

  After leaving Ana in the alley, I didn't head back to Fallen House. I needed to think, to calm down. So I went to the car, shrugged out of the dinner jacket Briony had me wear, and just drove.

  Before I knew it, I'd arrived at Blacks. It was no surprise I ended up there; it was familiar and one of my favorite places. There had been a time, when I was little, when Dad would bring me every weekend. It was our thing. We would visit Otis, have breakfast, and then stroll along the beach catching crabs in the shallow pools. If I were lucky, he would let me fish off the rocks. Nothing beat spending time with him.

  The car ground to a halt and I climbed out, kicking off my shoes. Dad was everywhere—in the feel of the sand against my feet, the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore, and the whistle of the wind whipping around the cove. Everything about this place reminded me of him.

  I followed the dirt path down closer to the beach. It was dark with no sign of life, except for the dim light of a boat out to sea. My eyes watched it rocking on the swell of the waves, battling to stay afloat. I must have been losing my shit because sitting there I could empathize with the small vessel. Lately, my life felt like a fight—survival against the dangerous waters. I could capsize at any moment, and the swell would pull me under. Into oblivion.

  As I stared out across the ocean, my mind cleared until only one thought remained. Ana. Every damn time I thought about her, I felt sucker punched right in the chest. Five whole months had passed, and I loved her more than ever. Part of me had hoped I would get over her…that I would forget. But how did you forget the only person who really saw you for you? The person who owned half of your damn soul?

  When I first met Ana, all I could focus on was the pain in her eyes. I wanted to kiss it out of her—to take it all away. Even when she wouldn’t open up, I still wanted to make it better. We all had our secrets, but I wanted to be her salvation. The first time we had slept together, somewhere deep down in my gut was screaming at me not to go through with it, not to bind us together in that way. But I couldn’t stop it. I had fallen too far. And then I saw the scars. The long jagged scar just below her navel, another less obvious one along her ribcage, and then the puckered, raised one on her right wrist. As my fingers brushed the imperfection, I had almost puked. I was no fool—I knew what it was. She didn’t need to say the words. And when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it had. Lost in the feel of her skin against my lips, I wasn’t prepared for the hundreds of barely visible scars that tracked along the inside of her thighs. Scars so precise it was obvious no accident caused them.

  The idea of Ana hurting herself was almost too much to bear, but I didn’t want to give her the third degree and risk losing her so soon after discovering her secret. So I never said anything. And then I walked away from her. So concerned with protecting her, I hadn’t given much thought to how much I would break her. But when I first saw her in Peterson’s class, I saw it. Her eyes were empty as she looked right through me. Was she doing that shit again? Had I forced her to start cutting again? My hands clenched at the side of me and I cursed into the night.

  I had to find a way to fix things, but at that precise moment, I felt damned if I didn’t, and damned if I did.

  My cell vibrated in my pocket and I groaned. Only one person would be trying to reach this late on a Friday.

  "What?" I could hardly hear myself over the noise coming from Braiden's end.

  "Get the fuck down here. Now," he roared. "Shit is going bad."

  I stiffened and the blood pumping through my veins ignited. "Where are you?"

  Braiden grunted and then I heard something crack over the line.

  "Braid? What the fuck is happening."

  "The school. Now."

  And then the line went dead.

  I raced back to the car, collected up my shoes, and gunned out of there. Something was going down. And if the ball of nerves churning in my stomach were anything to go by, it wasn't good.

  It should have taken fifteen minutes to get to the high school, but it took me closer to seven. Everything looked normal, the small stack of buildings was closed up for the weekend, but as I slowed down and crawled the car along the gate, I heard it.

  The hairs along my arms and neck tingled, fueled by my apprehension. I parked outside the main entrance and scaled the lowest fence. As I wound my way around the side of the main building, the noises grew louder. Most of it was inaudible except for the odd grunt and crack.
I rounded the corner and stilled.

  Braiden and Roman were fighting with three other guys. Another lay doubled over on the ground, and I recognized him to be one of Calder's friends. The other three were unfamiliar, but if their Reibeckitt High football jerseys were anything to go by, they were also Calder's friends. Roman was going fist to fist with the youngest looking guy, and the other two were getting the better of Braiden.

  I didn't even think as I hauled myself onto the dark-haired guy standing behind Braiden. He swerved just as I was about to make impact and we both went down, rolling onto the ground with a thud. A hand reached out for my shirt, and he yanked me to him, trying to swing his fist at my face. I managed to deflect it and rolled away from him, quickly righting myself.

  My fists clenched as he stood back up and locked his eyes on mine. We were about the same height, but where I was toned muscle, he was built. His arms had to be twice the size of mine, but I didn't give a fuck. He was going down.

  We danced around each other a little, oblivious to the commotion around us. Adrenaline pumped through me, making me feel invincible, and a slow smirk cracked over my face. They'd messed up big time by coming onto Chastity property. Especially the high school.

  The guy lunged for me, but I stepped to the side and he barreled past me, groaning as I jabbed him in the ribs. The pain radiated through my knuckles and into my hand, but I shook it off and readied myself for him. He wasted no time and attempted to drive his fist into my face. I thought I had anticipated it perfectly, but my body moved a fraction too late and his knuckle skimmed my cheekbone, pain exploding along my right eye. I swayed slightly from the impact, and he used it to his advantage, driving his fist into my side. I let out a pained moan and keeled over, clutching my side.

  He reared his fist back to come at me again, but this time I didn't waste any time. Still doubled over, I waited for him to throw his arm forward, twisted to the side, and drove my fist right into his nose. The crack of bone on bone reverberated across the playing field and the guy dropped to his knees, screaming out like a girl.

  Braiden looked over and cocked his brow at me, his eyes alive and wild. He lived for this shit. Turning back to the guy, he reached out and grabbed his collar. Yanking him forward, he brought his head forward at the same time. A sickening thud rang out and the guy crumpled to the floor.

  Braiden shook himself off, smearing the blood down his face. "You almost missed out on all the fun."

  It wasn't my idea of fun. I just did what was necessary. Braiden stepped over the guy and came to join me as I watched Roman finish off the bald guy. Unsure of how much I had missed, I realized if Braiden's split lip and bruised eye and the gash in Roman's head were anything to go by then I had arrived just in time for the last round.

  "Pierce, you decided to show up." Roman's voice sounded accusatory.

  I bristled, snapping back, "Looks like I bailed you out."

  Roman squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. "The fuck you did. We coulda took them all, right Braid?"

  Roman was a loose cannon, and he idolized his older cousin. It was a deadly combination.

  Braiden ignored Roman and turned to me. "Shit got hairy there for a second. We were here scoping out something for Dad when we catch these three just about to break into the science labs. That right, fellas?" Braiden motioned his head behind us where two of the guys lay still unconscious.

  "They're from Reibeckitt?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

  "Yeah. Seems Calder was full of shit when he said we were even. He's up to something, sending them here." Braiden nodded over his shoulder.

  "What the fuck are we going to do with them? I'm not sure I can hide four guys," Roman said, a little too seriously.

  "Leave them. Security will be around soon, and they can deal with them," Braiden said coolly. I was surprised that he wasn't storming in all guns ablaze but even worse than impulsive Braiden was brooding Braiden. Timeout gave him time to plan, and any plan Braiden devised would be hell bent on revenge. And he’d drag me right down with him.

  ~

  The shit with Braiden and Reibeckitt played on my mind all weekend. Add running into Ana into the mix, and my mind was fucked. Even hitting the weights hard did little to lift the tension in my neck and shoulders. I felt weighed down— the burden of trying to hold things together was taking its toll. And on top of everything, Briony had spent most of Sunday at Uncle Marcus’ house giving me the cold shoulder. That was fine by me; at least I didn’t have to worry about her latest scheme to sink her claws into me. But Braiden lost his cool with us more than once, and if she kept it up, she could become a problem. One I didn’t want to deal with.

  I arrived at Peterson’s class early, but I didn’t go into the room. Instead, I lingered in the hallway waiting for Ana. A staircase to the second floor that housed some lockers underneath was the perfect vantage point for remaining hidden without losing view of the main entrance. My heart sped up at the thought of seeing her. I still wasn’t used to the feelings she invoked in me, even after a whole year.

  The first time I’d laid eyes on her, my world slowed down, zeroing in on her. Her I-didn’t-give-a-fuck attitude, the dark clothes, and long hair hiding her face. That first day, Ana was definitely throwing out the stay-away-from-me vibes, but then she looked my way and her eyes collided with mine. They didn’t, not really; she was looking past me. But I was looking right into her soul, and it hurt. She was hurting. I knew because I’d been that person. But it was deeper than that. I couldn’t put my finger on it then, but the more I got to know her, the more it shined through. She was broken.

  And something in me wanted to fix her.

  My eyes tracked her entering the building, and my body straightened off the random locker. Her hair flowed down her shoulders, framing her face. The khaki parka swamped her delicate frame, and her trademark skintight jeans were only just visible. Even though it was cold out, I didn’t doubt she wore the oversized coat as an attempt to hide. But the sound of her laugh caught me off guard. I watched as her mouth turned up into a smile and she looked up at the person standing next to her. My stomach dipped leaving me with a hollow feeling. I’d totally missed Paul standing next to her, but then everything else did pale into insignificance whenever I was around her.

  My eyes could only see Ana.

  All I could focus on was her relaxed expression as they joked about something, stopping outside a locker on the opposite wall. She looked happy. Lighter. After Friday night, I expected the worst. Expected to find her wallowing in class, unable to meet my eyes with her own. Part of me even wondered if she would show at all. But Ana happy? That was something I never imagined. I should have been relieved—pleased that she was okay—and that I hadn’t done too much more damage. But I was a selfish prick because all I could think about was the way she looked at Paul like he mattered, like she cared about him. While all the time wishing it was me. Needing it still to be me.

  And realizing that I really might have pushed her away for good.

  Chapter 9

  ~ANA~

  "So Bowl-A-Rama tonight?"

  "Paul, I was joking. Besides, does Chastity Falls even have a Bowl-A-Rama?" I waited while Paul collected his books from the locker.

  "You mean my dream of seeing you in those sexy little clown shoes will never come true?" He clutched his heart, fake gasping for breath, and I laughed.

  I spent most of the weekend with Paul, Elena, and Tyson. After seeing Jackson again, it was just what I needed because I was too scared to be alone. Scared I wasn't strong enough to overcome the urges clawing at me from the inside.

  "I rock those shoes, but you'll never get it see it. You'll just have to suck it up." I playfully punched his arm, and we walked in comfortable silence to our classes.

  The more time I spent with Paul, the less awkward it was. It seemed weird to me, given that his crush was no secret. But true to his word, he had been nothing but a friend to me and had a great way of cheering me up. I enjoyed
being around him, enjoyed the person I was around him. Even if she was nothing more than a phony.

  "This is me, Parry. See you at lunch?" Paul grinned down at me, holding up his hand for a high five.

  "Dude, this isn't high school," I mocked, shaking my head at his goofiness. "I might be late. Save me a seat?"

  He saluted and I continued down the hallway. Every step was like wading further into quicksand. And by the time I reached the door for Peterson's class, I didn't know if I could do it. I might have decided to try to rise above Jackson and his messed-up life, but I couldn't just switch off my feelings—not for all the trying in the world.

  The door was open and I forced myself through it, keeping my eyes planted firmly on the floor. If I avoided looking at him, then I could pretend like he wasn't there. Of course, my eyes flickered to his seat all of their own accord, and a sigh of relief escaped my lips when I realized he wasn’t there. At least I could get myself situated without being aware of him.

  Peterson started the class and there was still no Jackson. I tried to switch off my concern, but it ran deep, refusing to subside. He’d warned me that I was in danger, so it only made sense that he probably was, too. What if something had happened to him? What if something was happening to him right now? I gripped the edge of the desk, panic surging through me. But the class around me started moving out of their seats as Peterson reiterated the instructions for today’s class. I stood on shaky legs, scanning the room for my group. A girl waved over at me, so I walked in her direction until I was huddled with her and another guy. We found an empty cluster of chairs and started discussing the assignment.

  "So I was thinking we could compare T. S. Eliot and E. E. Cummings," the girl said, a blush creeping over her cheeks.

  "Sorry, I didn't catch your names?" It occurred to me that I didn't know many of my classmate’s names.