Dazed (The Deliverance Series Book 1)

by Maria Macdonald

  “Caden!” I scream as he jogs us both over to the pool. “You’re going to slip and kill us,” I shout again. I can hear people cheering, but they’re not laughing at me, more like they’re joining in the fun of one of their friends. It’s surreal and complicated when the emotions it evokes are at war with each other, but I block them out. Ignoring things is what I do.

  Before I have a chance to overanalyze anything, Caden jumps, and we’re both flying through the air. I can hear a couple of girls scream and guys laughing, and then I’m under the water. I close my eyes and allow myself to sink, feeling sweet freedom for a second. I open my eyes underwater and see a blurry Caden swimming toward me. He reaches out his arm and grabs mine dragging me to the surface.

  I take a breath when I reach the top, and the water trickles down my face. “What was that?” Caden snaps as he bursts up out of the water. I narrow my eyes at him and frown.

  “What was what?” I reply.

  “Can you not swim?”

  “Of course, I can.”

  “So you were trying to kill yourself?” he pushes, anger vibrating off him now, and here’s where I see the big strong jock not my gentle friend.

  “Of course, I wasn’t trying to drown myself, you ass,” I spit at him. “I was enjoying the quiet… don’t you ever just want to soak up freedom when you’re offered it, no matter what form it comes in?” I ask the words so quietly I think maybe he won’t hear them with all the noise around us, but his eyes soften and I almost miss his nod.

  Caden reaches out with both arms and grabs me. Spinning us both around in the water, I squeal, and he crushes me to him and whispers in my ear, “Your girl bits are touching my boy bits. I feel violated.”

  I burst into a fit of laughter, so much that if I weren’t in the pool already, people would notice the tears streaming down my face.

  “I love you, Button,” Caden whispers pulling me back to him once my laughter has subsided.

  “I love you, too, Caden,” I whisper back. And I do. I feel like he’s been sent from Aiden especially for me. I hold onto him tightly as he continues to spin us around and around. I’m still grasping his shoulders as he drags me to the side of the pool.

  “You’re back?”

  I blink the water out of my eyes and look up at who Caden’s talking to.

  Tarrant. He’s standing above us like a God. His eyes don’t move from his brother’s. “Looks like it. Where’s Mom?” he asks crossing his arms over his chest. He shouldn’t be more menacing than Caden, but he is. He’s not as bulky as his brother, but I’d bet every last cent I own—albeit that’s not much—that his body is hard and bumpy… in the best way. Tarrant is darker than Caden, and there’s something in his eyes that says don’t fuck with me.

  My heart races as Caden holds me, and Tarrant ignores me. If I carry on like this, then I’m going to be that girl, the one everyone considers a slut. I know that I’m not actually with Caden, and he knows that, but to everyone else he’s my boyfriend and although I’ve not done anything wrong I shouldn’t be thinking about someone else in the way that I am… especially his brother. Plus, what will Tarrant think of me if I lose myself one time and end up doing something stupid, or more importantly, what would I think of him if he let me and then wanted to take it further?

  I shudder.

  “You cold?” Tarrant asks, concern clear in his voice as his attention is suddenly all on me… and now I’m burning hot.

  “No,” I choke out then start coughing. “Residual water.” I grin turning to Caden.

  Caden gives me a squeeze

  “So Mom?” Tarrant asks taking Caden’s attention back.

  Caden shrugs. “Gone to stay with Dad.”

  “Fuck!” Tarrant grinds out between gritted teeth. Then he stalks off toward the bar.

  “Will he be okay?” I ask Caden softly.

  “He’s gonna have to be,” he answers as shouting starts from the other side of the pool.

  “Right! Everyone out of the pool except the water polo players,” shouts Solomon.

  “Time for me to escape.” I giggle then move to the ladder and start climbing up. Caden slaps my ass, and I turn to look back at him with a questioning gaze.

  “Boyfriend’s prerogative.” He shrugs then winks. I snort shaking my head and rolling my eyes at his stupidity. Getting out, I start walking over to the chairs where my towel is, my eyes catch Tarrant’s and I slip, falling at the side of the pool.

  “What a fucking embarrassment for Caden to be with someone like her,” Selina says as she walks past with her crew. “Oh dear, did you hear that?” she taunts looking down at me with a smirk. Then she almost slips herself when Tarrant walks toward us. “Hey, baby,” she coos, but he ignores her and stops by me, reaching down and offering his hand.

  “My fingers are wet,” I tell him stupidly. He grins as laughter dances in his eyes and without a word, he grabs my hand in his pulling me up until I almost collide with his chest.

  “Thanks,” I whisper.

  “Anytime, Lemon,” he replies, his trademark intense look focused completely on me.

  “You wanna do something after this, baby?” Selina purrs walking up to us and basically squeezing in between until she’s made a gap. I watch as she runs her fingers down Tarrant’s chest, and my tummy turns over in revolt. I walk away. Tarrant watches me, I offer him a sad smile. The game has started in the pool, and I can hear shouting as I wonder what to do now. Thankfully, that’s the moment Morgan walks through the door.

  For the next hour, I cling to Morgan like she’s my life-force, that is until Aaron comes stumbling in drunk. He sees her and stumbles back out.

  “I have to go after him,” Morgan tells me.

  “Will you be okay?” I ask her, and she nods gathering up all her belongings. “You need to explain to me what the hell is going on later, Morgan,” I demand.

  She leans forward kissing my cheek and whispering, “I will, I swear.” Then she runs after her drunk boyfriend… at least I think he’s still her boyfriend.

  What happened with Aaron and Morgan makes me take stock and realize I’ve been a shitty friend lately. I have no idea what’s going on with my best friend, and although I’ve been caught up with studying and, to be fair, she hasn’t openly shared, I know I need some girl time pronto.

  The pool game is still going strong, but now without Morgan, I feel isolated and bored. I don’t see Tarrant anywhere and can’t decide if that’s a good or a bad thing. Then suddenly, he walks out of the bathroom door, and Selina follows him out. Our eyes meet, but nothing is passed between us as I stand and gather my belongings.

  I don’t want to stay. Caden gave me his keys for this exact reason, but I’m not sure if going to where Tarrant lives is the best idea. He’s here so I know I’ll be okay going over, but do I want to put myself in a situation where I might end up alone with Tarrant? Realistically, though, it’s too far for me to walk back to campus. I definitely don’t have the money for a cab, and no buses come out this way. I’m stuck.

  I take another quick look at Tarrant. He’s sitting in one of the garden-style wicker armchairs. Selina has somehow balanced herself on the edge of the seat, and I can see her mouth moving rapidly. Tarrant strangely looks as bored as I feel. He’s staring off into the distance, and when I look into the direction his gaze is pointing, I can see he’s looking out into the garden and he’s in a daze. I wonder for a moment what he’s thinking about.

  Deciding now’s the time, I grab my belongings and send a text to Caden letting him know where I am, so when he comes out of the pool he won’t worry. Then I make my way out of the party and across the road to the Reigns’ household.

  I don’t know what I expected the inside of Caden’s house to be like, but this isn’t it. The moment I unlock the front door, I’m met with a vast open space. There’s gray-colored wood flooring throughout, and all of the downstairs is open plan. It’s homey, but not in an overstated way—that’s either because they have only been here a
few months or maybe his mom isn’t that type of person. However, there is some shelving with family photos on them, and after calling three or four loud hellos and determining there isn’t anyone in the house to see me, I take my time looking at the small collection. Mainly, they are snaps of Caden and Tarrant, although there is one of all four of them. Caden and Tarrant are younger in it—around ten—and they both stand in smart little boy suits looking uncomfortable and bored, while their parents stand proudly behind them.

  Their mom is soft and warm, her face looks inviting—if that’s even a thing—her brown hair and pretty hazel eyes are a feminine match for Caden. Their dad—much like Tarrant—projects something else, a fierce leader type of presence that even in a photograph shines through. He has the same features as Tarrant, dark and sure of himself, and there’s no doubt Tarrant is his father’s son.

  My eyes move to the next photo in the line-up—it’s one of Tarrant and Caden standing side by side at some kind of sporting event, they must be around thirteen in the photo. Caden is slightly taller than his brother, his face is a picture of excitement, all red and sweaty, and his hair hangs longer than he wears it now, slightly disheveled and sticking to his cheeks. He also has a wide grin as he holds up a shiny trophy. The contrast between the brothers is clear—Tarrant’s face is stony, almost bored looking, and I can see some of his broodiness even as young as he was. He obviously didn’t want to be there and wasn’t afraid to show it—either that or he was jealous of Caden. I take in his grumpy teenage face again and snort with laughter.

  “That wasn’t my best moment,” I hear rumbled from behind, I spin around, shock coursing through me and my heart is thumping like it’s trying to break free from behind my ribs.

  “T-Tarrant,” I stutter. “You scared me.”

  He watches me for a second. “It happens,” he drawls, smirking, and I know there’s an underlying meaning within that statement.

  “I needed to get away from there,” I say nodding in the general direction of the party. “Caden gave me a key and said if I had to escape, I was to come over here,” I explain.

  Tarrant shrugs and looks past me to the photos I was just perusing. “You don’t need to justify anything to me, Lemon. I know you wouldn’t be in here unless you were invited,” he answers, and he’s so sure of what he’s saying.

  “I could be stealing something,” I tell him determinedly, crossing my arms over my chest.

  The corner of his mouth twitches and turns up slightly. “Sorry, Lemon, I’m not buying it,” he replies full out grinning now.

  God, he’s beautiful.

  I stare for a second, probably more than a second actually… yep, I take my damn time looking at him, my eyes roam blatantly. I don’t think, and I don’t feel any shame. Caden doesn’t enter my thoughts… nothing enters my thoughts except Tarrant. He has me in a daze—it seems like a perpetual way of existing for me lately, and there’s absolutely no controlling it.

  “You’re walking a dangerous line, one you don’t want to cross, Lemon.”

  His words pull me from my wandering brain fart. I look down, trying to focus my eyes on something, anything.

  “Maybe I should go,” I admit.

  “Probably,” he replies, and I suddenly feel deflated. “You want some ice-cream?” he offers with his next breath, and I blink—he’s winded me and I’m confused. I suspect Tarrant likes to keep everyone in a continuous state of confusion, and I imagine it’s probably not that difficult for him to achieve it.

  “Sure,” I say digging my nails into my palms and trying to regain some composure.

  He walks away and I hurry after him.

  “Sit,” he orders, pointing to the stools at the kitchen bar. I sit silently and try not to let myself think, well not too much anyway.

  Tarrant moves from one place to another gathering all the stuff he needs, and I notice how effortless all his movements are. It’s like he knows exactly which actions will cause the least resistance, his body is so fluid.

  And sexy.

  Dammit.

  “Stop thinking, Lemon.” He chuckles.

  Ignoring him, I lean forward propping my elbows on the kitchen bar and resting my chin in my hands. I feel my eyes drooping when a bowl slides under my nose. It looks like vanilla ice cream, kind of, but not quite. There’s something different about it. Tarrant passes a spoon to me and I pick it up, eyeing him as he smiles then winks. My mouth opens and closes at his playfulness. I narrow my eyes, and he chuckles quietly. Then I take a bite of the ice cream, and my narrowed eyes quickly widen.

  “Oh my God! This is delicious. It’s lemony,” I tell him something he clearly already knows.

  “Yeah. Lemon meringue flavor,” he says. “My favorite.”

  I say not one more word and try not to choke as I hoover the ice cream nectar up. I wish I was brave enough to ask for more.

  When I look up from my bowl, Tarrant is staring out into the garden—he seems to be in his very own daze again. I open my mouth, then close it. I have no idea what to say but feel like I should say something before it becomes awkward.

  “Where are your parents, Lemon?” he asks me, breaking the silence, the tension, and my composure all at the same time.

  “W-what?” I reply, a wobble in my voice.

  “Caden was talking about our fucked-up parents the other day, and I asked him what you thought about it and what you said about your parents. He told me you didn’t… that you never spoke of them. That’s when I found out you weren’t going home for Thanksgiving. That’s not normal, where are your parents?” he asks again. His voice is calm—the exact opposite of how I suddenly feel.

  “I don’t speak to them,” I admit.

  “They dicks?” he asks. There’s absolutely no judgment in his question.

  I shrug, it doesn’t hurt anymore. I feel like it should, and it makes me question whether there’s something wrong with me for being totally emotionless when it comes to them.

  “You got any brothers? Sisters?”

  My throat closes up a little and I swallow, then bite my lip to contain the anguish.

  “Aiden,” I squeak out.

  “Older? Younger?” he asks. Tarrant’s tone has softened. He’s still standing on the opposite side of the breakfast bar, but his face is open, honest. He’s giving this to me. I feel like he’s offering me a Tarrant that’s usually locked away.

  “Older. He died,” I grind out.

  Tarrant nods. “Sorry.”

  “My parents blame me.” The words have been swimming around my brain for years, but I’ve never actually said them out loud before.

  “Was it your fault?” he questions, and again, even though he’s direct, there’s not even a note of judgment.

  “Yeah,” I whisper.

  He waits quietly. I don’t say anything, and he waits some more.

  “Something happened to me with a guy at school a few years ago.” My ears start ringing, and it’s like a warning.

  Stop.

  Stop talking right now.

  But I can’t.

  Something about Tarrant eases me, calms me, and more than anything, there’s something about him and who he is that makes me feel like I can be me… really be the honest to goodness version of myself.

  “I remember how crazy my brother was when he found out about it.”

  Tarrant watches me, and although most people would have asked what happened, he hasn’t. Either he can read me and knows I’m not ready to discuss it or he doesn’t care, something makes me believe it’s the former, or maybe I just want to believe that.

  I continue regardless, finding it cathartic, “He stormed out of our house after my parents told him he was being stupid, that I was overreacting, he didn’t listen. Aiden always put me first.” I allow a small smile to creep across my face as I think about my brother, but it drops as I continue, “I ran after him, but I wasn’t as quick as him. He beat Devin, fuck did he beat him. Devin was in a coma for over a week.” Everything blanks out no
w. I can’t see anything other than Aiden’s face that night. “When I arrived, he’d already beaten Devin but then Anthony, Devin’s friend, grabbed a baseball bat and hit Aiden in the back of the head. One hit. They say it killed him outright.” I sob the last words out, and Tarrant steps around the counter gathering my shuddering frame into his solid body. Slowly my emotion subsides, and my awareness comes back in full force. I can feel his strong hand running up and down my spine, calming me.

  Panic courses through my body and I stand, walking back to the living space. I can hear him following me.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to upset you, Lemon,” he tells me gently.

  I turn back to face him. “Why do you call me, Lemon?” I demand brokenly, my head snapping up as my eyes capture his.

  He smiles, taking a step away from me, tipping his head to the ground and rubbing the back of his neck, just like Caden does. Slowly he levels his eyes with mine again.

  “Sit.” He nods down to the sofa. “Please,” he pleads when I don’t move. I grunt but do as he asks and then wait for him to sit and start talking.

  “When you think of a lemon, you automatically think sour, right?” he tells me.

  “Oh great, I can see where this is going,” I reply moving to get back up.

  Tarrant leans forward and places his finger against my mouth. “Shhh,” he whispers, and my eyes widen as my body stills under his touch. He takes in a slow breath, seemingly caught in the moment and runs his finger gently along my lip. He must know how much of an effect he has on me. Slowly his hand pulls back, and he continues, “Most people see something sour, and they’re wary of it, backing away. People choose not to pick up that pretty yellow fruit glowing in the produce section at the store, assuming that there’s nothing beyond the sour.”

  “And you?” I murmur. This time I’m leaning toward him, interested in his answer.