Run to You Part One: First Sight

by Clara Kensie

  “The connection was weak, but I could still see through your eyes. I heard you say ‘Hey, Dad, look at the pretty sunrise.’”

  “That’s right.” Her legs shook as she lowered herself to the couch.

  Mom covered her face with her hands. She whimpered, but when she lowered her hands her eyes were focused and strong. She spoke for the first time in hours. “We can’t put your father through any more pain,” she said. “And we can’t risk losing his remote vision. So. He will watch for Dennis Connelly only. A few times a day, a few seconds at a time, and that’s it.” Her gaze landed pointedly on Jillian, then Logan, then me. “Which means we have to trust the three of you now more than ever.”

  Fear and vulnerability weighed me down, turned my lungs to stone. My father could no longer watch us to make sure we were safe. Our lives balanced on the edge of a canyon, and at any moment, Dennis Connelly could sneak up behind us and push us over the edge.

  My parents and siblings might be able to save themselves. They had built-in defense weapons.

  I had nothing. And now there would be no safety net to catch me.

  We promised solemnly to follow the rules, to be on our best behavior. Our lives depended on it.

  Jillian stood to get ready for school, and no one but me saw the tiny smirk on her lips.

  * * *

  Tristan paced under the tree at the corner that morning, watching for me. I rushed over and buried my face in his chest. The tighter he held me, the easier it was to breathe. I inhaled his fresh, soapy scent until he pulled away, cupping my chin in his fingers and studying me with a frown. “Something’s wrong,” he said. “What happened?”

  I swallowed hard. “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “You look...scared. Tired. Like you didn’t sleep all night.”

  “I was up late writing a paper.”

  The concerned, sympathetic look in his eyes told me he knew I was lying. “Do you ever sleep well, Sarah?”

  I told him the truth this time. “No.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  The truth again. “No.”

  He sighed, then put his arm around my shoulders. We walked all the way to school with me tucked under his arm, and even though my father couldn’t watch me anymore, I’d never felt safer in my life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Flashing lights, thumping bass and a thick cloud of cigarette smoke assaulted me as Tristan and I stepped into Ethan’s house. Jillian said he was having a few people over and had invited us to stop by, but half the senior class was here, along with many of the juniors.

  I spotted my sister across the room, chatting with her friends. I started to wave but stopped. Blinked. She’d left our house wearing a plain blue top, much like my plain peach top, and jeans and sneakers. Now she wore a bright yellow halter that tied behind her neck and a black miniskirt with black platform heels. She held a cigarette in one hand and a red plastic cup in the other. I knew, without a doubt, what was in that cup. Beer. It’s bitter, stale stench permeated the air, even through the cigarette smoke.

  My father couldn’t watch over us anymore. To me, that meant danger. To my sister, it meant freedom.

  “Is it too crowded in here for you?” Tristan shouted over the music. “Do you want to go?”

  This party was too crowded for me, but I pushed inside anyway. I had to get Jillian out before a neighbor called the cops. No police. Dennis Connelly would get wind of it. “I have to get my sister first. Our parents will be pissed if they find out we’re at this kind of party.”

  With Tristan behind me, I wiggled through the crowd to where Jillian had been standing a minute ago. By the time I got there, she was gone. I craned my neck to see over the crowd, but I was too short.

  Red plastic cups passed from hand to hand, lights dimmed, music pulsated. Vanessa and Chad swirled over, then Gianna, shouting at us over the music before disappearing again to refill their cups.

  Like a dam bursting, more kids poured into the party. The layer of smoke thickened, coating my lungs with sickly sweet fumes. I went rigid.

  Tristan grabbed my arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “A cigar,” I said, my voice high and whimpery. “A cherry cigar. I can smell it. Someone’s smoking a cherry cigar.” I had to get out of here.

  Just before panic set in, Tristan put his arm around me and pushed through the crowd. Instead of going outside, he whisked me into a den and shut the door behind us. “I saw the football team passing around a few cigars. Someone at the restaurant had a cigar too. That smell must really bother you, huh?”

  The air was fresh in here. Clean. No smoke. No burning cherries. I took a deep breath, clearing my lungs, clearing my mind. I gave Tristan a shaky laugh. “I hate cigars. They’re disgusting.”

  The bass still pumped through the book-lined walls, but it was muffled. And we were alone.

  We sank onto the puffy leather sofa, and he put his arm back around me. I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder. “Better?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Thanks.” To thank him properly, I kissed him, on that soft spot right under his jaw. He returned the kiss by nuzzling my neck.

  I shot a glance at my hand and crossed my fingers, then stopped. No need to send Dad a signal. He wasn’t watching me.

  Freedom and desire filled me like air in a balloon. I slid my hands behind Tristan’s head, teasing him with tiny kisses, my lips wandering over his temples. His cheeks. His neck.

  His breath was heavy, catching each time he inhaled.

  He ran kisses up and down my collarbone, so soft and slow, then kissed me hard on the mouth before stopping completely to gaze at me. “The girl with wildflower eyes,” he murmured, cupping my head and stroking my cheek with his thumb. “I need to tell you something.”

  I nodded, not really hearing him, feeling only the heat from his body and mine. Hot, hotter. His gentle breath, his lips close to mine. I kissed his lower lip, then his upper lip.

  He kissed me back, then pulled away. “When I came to Twelve Lakes...”

  I kissed his neck, resting my lips there, his pulse beating so fast against them.

  “I never thought...” he said.

  I kissed his left shoulder. His right shoulder. Lifted his hand and kissed his palm. The inside of his wrist.

  “This wasn’t what I expected,” he said.

  I pressed my lips to his neck, right under his ear. He moaned.

  “But I can’t...hold it back anymore,” he whispered. “I need to tell you. Tonight. Now. I want you to know.”

  He took both my hands, stopping me from kissing him again. He kissed my fingertips, one by one. Then, still holding my hands, he stared straight into my eyes. Took a deep breath.

  When he exhaled, he spoke along with it. “I love you.”

  And just like that, our shiny, beautiful moment was shattered into a million tarnished pieces. “Wh-what?”

  “I love you.” A warped, hopeful smile appeared on his face. “I’m in love with you.”

  Tristan loved me.

  Tristan was in love with me.

  But he didn’t really love me. He loved Sarah Spencer. He was in love with a girl who would cease to exist the moment her cell phone rang.

  I’d only cared how hard it would be for me to leave him. I’d never considered how hard it would be for him. How could I have been so selfish?

  His smile faded, his eyes widening with confusion, as I pushed him away and scrambled off the couch. “Sarah—”

  “Don’t,” I choked, and ran off, desperate to get out of the room, away from him.

  I yanked open the door and ran out, back into the loud music and hazy air. Stumbling over an overturned chair, I pushed my way back into the party in search of Jillian. She would know what to do. She would take care of this,
and then she’d take me home. We shouldn’t be here anyway.

  Tristan shouted for me—shouted for Sarah—over the music, but I’d disappeared into the crowd, grateful, for once, for my lack of height. Ducking between the partiers, I caught a glimpse of swirling yellow—Jillian’s top. She was standing with Ethan, and I could hear her laughter even over the music. She tilted her head up and kissed him, then laughed again, as if headaches and bloody noses and Dennis Connelly were the furthest things from her mind.

  I was already ruining Tristan’s night. I couldn’t ruin hers, too, by asking her to break up with my boyfriend for me.

  That was something I should do myself.

  Turning around, I made my way back through the mass of partiers, this time searching for Tristan.

  * * *

  We sat on an iron bench in Ethan’s backyard, under a tree that had lost all its leaves. The stars struggled to shine through a thin layer of clouds in the inky November sky. Tristan slid off his hoodie and held it out to me. “Put this on,” he said. “You’re cold.”

  I didn’t want it. I didn’t want him to be so nice to me right now. But I put it on anyway. He was right; I was cold.

  In just a white T-shirt now, he sat with his elbows on his knees and stared off at some point in the distance. I slid my hands into the sleeves of his hoodie and rubbed my thumbs in the cuffs.

  “I don’t want to see you anymore,” I said finally, trying to make him hate me for breaking up with him such abrupt cruelty.

  He didn’t move. Didn’t look at me. “I scared you off. I should have waited to tell you.”

  “Even if you’d waited a week, a month, a year, it wouldn’t matter,” I said. “I don’t want you to love me.”

  With a scoff, he said, “Too late.”

  “You don’t know me enough to love me. You’ll never know me enough to love me.”

  “I started falling in love with you the day we met on the jogging path, and all I wanted to do was make that scared, sad look in your eyes go away.” His own eyes showed a mixture of pain and confusion. “I knew nothing at all about you then, not even your name.”

  “My name isn’t important.” I winced at my own lie. “The only thing you need to know about me is that one day I’m going to leave. My family always leaves.”

  “That won’t stop me from loving you.”

  “But it should! If you didn’t love me, you would just forget about me after I leave. But now you think you love me. And when that day comes, and I don’t show up at the corner, or meet you on the jogging path, or answer my door, your heart is going to break.”

  He put his hand over his heart, as if it was already broken. It took every ounce of strength I had not to take that hand in mine and kiss it. “I don’t want to be the cause of that much pain. I can’t stand the thought of hurting you like that. Because I love you, Tristan.”

  I gasped a squeaky little oh! and my hands flew to cover my mouth. Hearing myself say those words revealed what my subconscious had been hiding from me all along, maybe even since the first time I saw him, with his confident smile and his broad shoulders, jogging on that path in the park.

  I loved him.

  I loved him.

  But it didn’t change anything.

  He lowered my hands and held them. “You love me?”

  I looked into his eyes. “I do. I love you.”

  “Then we can find a way to be together.”

  “You’re hoping for a future than can never happen.”

  “It can happen. We belong together.” He squeezed my hands. “We love each other, Sarah.”

  And there is was. He’d just proven I was doing the right thing, by saying one awful, terrible word.

  Sarah.

  “I love you, Tristan.” I pulled my hands away and turned, unable to look at him. “But I can’t be your girlfriend anymore.”

  Forcing myself to stand on trembling legs, I walked away.

  * * *

  I’d almost reached the back door to the house before Tristan called out. “When you’re nervous or scared,” he said, “you slide your hands up into your sleeves and rub little holes in the cuffs for your thumbs.”

  His words froze me; I stopped walking and stopped rubbing my thumbs.

  “You tap your phone when you’re unsure how to answer my questions.” He rose from the bench. “You like vegetables, except for green peppers. You love to cook but you’re never hungry.”

  “That’s—”

  He reached me in four strides. “Attention makes you uncomfortable. The clothes you wear, the way you walk with your eyes on the ground, it’s all so people won’t notice you.”

  I stepped back.

  He stepped forward. “You started jogging because it was something you could do alone, but you’re scared to be alone. You let your brother and sister take care of you because for some stupid reason they don’t think you can take care of yourself, and neither do you.”

  He took my arm and drew me close, so close our heads were inches from each other. “Every time you walk into a room, you look around to make sure it’s safe. You look for the exits. You sit where you can see the doors.”

  Unable to breathe, I nodded.

  “The first reaction you have to anything is fear.”

  A tear rolled down my cheek.

  He wiped it away with the back of his finger. “You try to solve all your problems by running away.”

  I stared into his eyes, wide and soft and full of love.

  “See? I do know you well enough to love you.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “But the only thing I need to know is that the only time you’re happy is when you’re with me.”

  It was all true. Every word.

  “I also know there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” He kissed my cheek, right by my ear, and whispered. “I know you have secrets, Sarah.”

  I gasped, then tried to scramble away, but he held tight to my arm. “I don’t know what they are and I won’t ask you to tell me.” He gazed at me until my breathing slowed. “But if you want to tell me, you can trust me. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

  I was unable to speak until the brick in my throat dissolved. “There’s nothing you can do to help me,” I said, burying my head in his chest. “I want to be with you. But I can’t tell you the truth about so many things. I hate lying to you.”

  He lifted my chin so I looked at him. “I don’t know what you’re lying about, but I know it scares you. I promise, whatever it is, I’ll keep you safe.”

  But Tristan couldn’t keep me safe. Running and hiding were the only things keeping my family from Dennis Connelly. There was no way to fight him. He had the support of the government. He was almost invulnerable to my father’s mobile eye. He had the power to read minds. He had the power to slice people open with a glance.

  All Tristan Walker had was naïve hope.

  “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” I said, and shivered despite his warm hoodie. I wasn’t cold on the outside. Just the inside.

  Sighing, he rubbed my arms. “Let’s go finish this at my house.” He started to lead me away.

  “Wait.”

  He stopped. Waited.

  “Will you...I need you...” Inside my rib cage, my heart trembled, flip-flopped. “I need to hear you say something. One word. Just once, and then never again.”

  “What word?”

  I closed my eyes. Took a breath.

  Licked my lips, swallowed.

  Then I opened my eyes, looked into his, and said it. “Tessa.”

  * * * * *

  ~End of Part One~

  We hope you enjoyed part one of Tessa’s story!

  Please read on for a sneak peek from the next installment,

  RUN TO YOU PART TWO:
SECOND GLANCE

  by Clara Kensie

  About the Author

  Clara Kensie grew up reading every book she could find and using her diary to write stories about a girl with psychic powers who solved mysteries. She purposely did not hide her diary, hoping someone would read it and assume she was writing about herself. Since then, she’s swapped her diary for a computer and admits her characters are fictional, but otherwise she hasn’t changed one bit.

  The complexities of family, friendship and love have always intrigued Clara. Wanting to study human nature, in college she triple-majored in psychology, sociology and social services, then threw in a criminal justice minor for good measure. She interned at a group home for troubled teen girls. She visited prisons. Today Clara lives outside Chicago with her husband, their two kids and their troublemaking cat, appropriately named The King of Chaos. She writes twisty mysteries and chilling thrillers for young adults (but it’s the romance that will take your breath away). When she’s not torturing her characters, she’s on Twitter and Tumblr, reading YA lit or looking for her keys.

  A family on the run from a deadly past, and a first love that will transcend secrets, lies and danger…

  If you loved the romantic thriller Run to You Part One: First Sight by Clara Kensie, don’t miss

  Run to You Part Two: Second Glance and Run to You Part Three: Third Charm, available in ebook format.

  Order your copies today!

  Be sure to also catch these other great Harlequin TEEN titles, available now:

  Stir Me Up by Sabrina Elkins

  Bitter Sweet Love by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Another Little Piece of My Heart by Tracey Martin

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  Chapter Seventeen