Betraying Innocence
Page 2
Her father grumbled something as he rounded the truck and threw open his door. He hauled himself inside and slammed the door behind him. Ana hurried to catch up in case he forgot she was there and drove off.
“What happened?” she asked, strapping her belt into place.
He stuffed the key into the ignition and started the engine “Well, apparently.” The leather seat squeaked when he twisted his torso around to peer out the back window as he pulled into reverse. “He hasn’t had a chance to come out and fix that little problem, and why would he? I only gave him a month’s worth of notice. That can’t possibly be enough time to set up a router, or whatever that thing is called. Oh, and the cell reception? He can’t even fix that. So, if we want to use our phones, we have to go outside.”
So no internet. No phone. No TV. No cell service.
“Mom is going to kill you,” she said matter-of-factly.
He sighed, easing into the slow flow of traffic. “Yeah, well, it’s only until tomorrow. He promises to have all that fixed before the afternoon.”
“Do you believe it?”
Her dad snorted. “We’ll see, I guess.”
The fury that was her mother’s wrath only lasted about as long as it took for her cell — which she was forced to stand outside on the porch to answer — to ring. The clack of her heels cracked like thunder throughout the house as she hurried outside.
Ana looked at her father from across the island in the kitchen, over the half-eaten box of pizza, and smiled sympathetically. “Hey, at least she still has some connection to the outside world, right?”
Taking a chomp of his pizza, her father sighed. “It’s only for the one night. Things will be better tomorrow when the fax and landline are hooked up.”
Ana nodded, flicking a piece of green pepper off her pizza to join the small pile of peppers already collecting in the corner of her plate. Above their head, a low, guttural howl drew their attention to the ceiling.
Ana sighed, rolling her eyes. “I better go check on him, or I’ll have to sleep with one eye open tonight.”
Her father chuckled as she climbed off the stool and took her paper plate to the garbage bag hanging off a drawer by the sink. “Hey, I wanted a dog. You picked a cat.”
“Cats are self-reliant,” she said out of habit. “I don’t have to take him out for walks in the rain.”
“Lazy,” he mumbled around a mouthful of pizza.
Ana snorted. “Says the man who’s home one day out of an entire week!” She folded her plate into the trash, dusted her hands over the sink and turned to him. “Speaking of which, when are you leaving for work again?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took his time wiping his mouth and hands on a napkin, chewed his food, swallowed, and finally replied, “Tomorrow morning.”
Ana blinked. “That soon? Does Mom know?”
“Does Mom know what?” Somehow, Mom had pulled that stealthy ninja move of hers and appeared in the doorway without ever touching the ground with her heels. Now she stood there, staring at them with one eyebrow raised questioningly.
Ana stared at her father, who stared at his plate, and her mother stared at both of them, waiting.
“I, uh.” Her father wiped his mouth again. “I have to be on the island by tomorrow evening. I tried to get out of it, but they want the project complete by the end of the month and…”
Mom folded her long arms, sticking out a hip in a stance Ana knew meant there was about to be another war. “Well, that just can’t happen.” She held up the phone in her clutches. “I have to be in Seattle tomorrow to smooth over the mess they’ve made in my absence. Someone has to stay here and get this place organized.”
Her father shrugged, climbing to his feet. “I can’t. This is why we moved here, so I can be closer to my work. Not going to work kind of defeats the purpose of this move.”
Then it started.
“Well, maybe you should have found something in Toronto instead of moving us here to Godforsaken nowhere!”
Anger lanced off the green surface of her father’s eyes. “This job is paying us three times what I was making back East! Those phone bills of yours don’t pay for themselves!”
Her mother’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me? Oh no, no, no, I pay for my own bills, thank you! Or have you forgotten which of us brings in more money to this household?”
As quietly as she possibly could, Ana tiptoed past her mother’s rigid figure and hurried upstairs with the sound of their bickering nipping at her heels. She stopped in the hallway bathroom and rescued Mitzy from his cooped up prison. The cat growled at her, tawny eyes narrowed.
“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, taking the orange tabby into her room and kicking the door closed with her heel. “I’m a terrible owner for not letting you just run off and get eaten by a bear or whatever is holed up in that jungle out back.”
The cat grumbled and growled deep in its throat as she placed him down. She let him roam her room while she unpacked the essentials like her bed things, pajamas and toiletries. She made her bed with the sound of her parent’s raised voices seeping through the floorboards beneath her feet. But she’d gotten good at ignoring it.
She was leaving the bathroom after the hottest shower on the planet with her toiletries in hand when her mother reached the top landing. She blinked in surprise at seeing Ana standing there in her flannel bottoms and over-sized t-shirt. But the look melted into one of guilt as she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her thin nose.
“I’m sorry,” Mom said quietly, lowering her arm to focus on Ana. “We really don’t mean for you to see that.”
Ana shrugged, dropping her gaze to the chipped, pink nail polish on her toes from her last girl’s night with her friends back home. “It’s no biggie.”
Mom’s heels scuffed a little on the strip of carpet running the length of the narrow hallway as she crossed to stand in front of Ana. She raised a hand and touched the tight braid down Ana’s back. The light brown strands matched the neatly styled coif of her mother’s shoulder-length helmet, but the gold highlights were more pronounced in Ana’s hair from hours in the sun, and her hair went down to the middle of her back.
Her mom played with the elastic tied at the end. “I always forget how big you’ve gotten. Sometimes it feels like it kind of snuck up on me.” She smiled a little wistfully. “It was bound to happen I suppose. Doesn’t mean I like it.” She dropped the braid and peered into Ana’s green eyes. “I know we didn’t really ask you if you wanted to move here—”
“Mom,” Ana interrupted. “It’s fine. I know how important this move was to Dad and … I can make new friends.” She tried not to wince or look directly into her mother’s eyes as the rehearsed lie slipped her lips. “The old ones were getting kind of old anyway.”
Her attempt at humor was met with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. “Don’t downplay it. I know how much this hurt you.”
The floorboard under Ana’s feet gave a low groan when she shifted her feet. She jerked a shoulder. “Whatever. It’s not a big deal.”
Her mother exhaled, placing a hand on Ana’s shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Ana.”
Ana said nothing for a moment, and then asked, “So, are you guys leaving tomorrow?”
Mom’s hand fell away, leaving the spot she’d touched chilled by the sudden exposure of air. “Yes, but,” she added quickly as if afraid Ana would protest, “your father has promised to return Wednesday, and I’ll be home on Friday. So you’ll only be alone for the one night. Is that okay?”
No, but what choice did she have?
“Yeah. Fine.”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Ana shifted in bed. Fabric rustled as she drew the sheets higher up around her shoulders. The chill in the air against her skin had her curling onto her side, drawing her knees up to her chest. Weeks of packing, lifting, moving and then moving again and unpacking pushed against her, willing her not to rouse from the warm cocoon of sleep.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
She st
irred again. “Mitzy, knock it off,” she grumbled into her pillow.
At the foot of the bed, the cat mewled his indignation. Ana blinked into the thick darkness pooling through the unfamiliar room. The red letters on her digital clock winked back at her, marking the hour precisely at three in the morning.
Ana groaned. She dragged the sheets up over her ears. She shut her eyes.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. BANG!
Something slammed into the wall outside her door. Ana bolted upright. Fear coiled in the pit of her stomach, rendering her mouth dry. Her hands shook as she reached for the lamp. She flicked the switch. Nothing. She flicked it again. Trembling, she scrambled onto her knees and dragged the lamp closer. She snapped the switch again and again. Darkness continued to blind her, swathing her in icy terror.
“Dad? Mom?” she called, hoping it was only one of them making their way to the bathroom.
A heavy silence pushed against her. Sweat slicked her palm as she yanked on the cord. Her breath panted as the end came into her hand, unplugged.
Cursing, she dropped it and lunged off the bed.
“Dad?”
The icy floorboards burned beneath her bare feet as she scrambled across the room to the light switch. She flipped it on with a violent sweep of her hand.
The same chilling silence thrummed around her, shattered only by the drum of her frightened heart. Her limbs trembled as she strained all her senses, listening. A scream sat wedged on her tongue, just waiting for the slightest noise to be released.
But when minutes ticked by and nothing happened, Ana began to wonder if she’d imagined the noise. If she had maybe dreamt it. It’s the only possible explanation, she thought, pressing a clammy hand to the front of her shirt.
She inhaled shakily as she padded back to the bed, but all hopes of sleep were gone. She gave a frustrated yank of the covers and pitched them back. Mitzy grumbled at her from his resting place when the covers landed in a heap on top of his head. He untangled himself and hopped off the bed with a grunt. He cast her a nasty glare before curling up on a nearby box and going back to sleep. Ana rolled her eyes as she snatched up her fluffy pink robe and threw it on. She shoved her feet into her sneakers and tiptoed downstairs.
Several steps creaked and she made a mental note to remember which ones for the future. She wasn’t the sneak-out-of-the-house sort, but it was something handy to know. At the bottom, she turned down the hall to the kitchen and frowned. The basement door was open. Not all the way, but open enough to show a slit of pure blackness where it gaped. Ana thought nothing of it as she hurried forward and shut it. She continued on into the kitchen and maneuvered her way around the boxes to the sink. It wasn’t until she went through all the trouble to get there that she realized she had no cup and she was in no mood to go box diving.
Wishing she’d thought of that before coming down, she turned, only slightly deterred by the prospect of making the journey back through the maze of boxes. She swayed a little as her weary body protested all the movement. She stuffed her knuckles into her eyes and rubbed the grit collecting in the corners. She yawned. And that’s when she saw it, a bright, sparkly bit of light where she thought there shouldn’t be any. Her thigh caught a box as she twisted back to the sink and the source of light poking through the lace curtains over the window. The stone basin felt cold under her hand as she leaned over and pulled back the fabric to squint into the night.
Glinting stars stared back at her. She couldn’t ever recall having seen so many claiming the heavens before. They were nonexistent in the city. Below, a pond shimmered beneath the glow of the moon. The wind whistled through the tall grass. Crickets chirped. It was such a drastic change from the commotion of the city. Even at that hour, people were rushing to get places. Not in Chipawaha Creek. Everyone was sleeping there, except her … and the pale boy standing over her pond.
Ana squished her knuckles into her eyelids and rubbed. She blinked her eyes and stared hard at the slim, unmoving figure peering down at the ripples in the water. Around him, a white glow seemed to halo him, like he had swallowed a lamp and the light was spilling out of his pores, illuminating the space around him. He stood with his back to her, hands in his pockets, blond head bent. She couldn’t make out much, except he wore a long, black cape draped over his hunched shoulders. The wind lifted the corners, making it flap like wings around his legs.
Ana wondered if she should get her parents. They would certainly know what to do. But the boy didn’t look like a threat. He looked about her age. Plus, he just seemed really sad. Maybe he’s lost, she thought, pressing her nose against the glass. It made sense. Why else would he be standing in her yard in the middle of the night? Or maybe he was hurt and just needed to call someone to come get him. But he didn’t seem hurt.
More and more, she contemplated waking her parents. They could go out there and deal with the kid. But each time she was reminded that her parents had to be up early in the morning to leave for work so if it turned out to be nothing, just some kid trespassing, they would be furious. Maybe she should just leave him alone. Eventually he would need to go home … unless he was lost.
“Ugh!” Ana stuffed the heels of her hands into her eyelids where a steady throbbing had begun. This is not solving anything, she told herself. She would just go out there and ask if he was all right. She would stay on the porch, far enough away so that she was safe.
Pushing around boxes, she made a path to the back door. She flicked on the porch lights, unsnapped the locks and yanked open the door. Muggy, August air caressed her face, taunting her with the scent of night, wildflowers and dead, rotted things. She drew her robe more tightly around her as she stepped onto the porch and opened her mouth to call out. But no one was there. The spot by the pond where she’d seen the boy was empty.
“Hello?” she called, daring a step down the porch stairs. “Is anyone there?”
Bullfrogs croaked from somewhere near the pond. Crickets chirped excitedly. Somewhere, wind chimes tinkled. Still there was no sign of the trespasser. She edged another step, then another until she was at the bottom, on a curving stone path that sliced through the jungle. Most of it was buried beneath grass, but she could make out some of it leading to the pond.
Cautious but curious, she started along the trail, ears strained for even the slightest unusual sound. Her gaze searched the night. In her chest, her heart rampaged with fear. A nagging voice in her head warned her to turn back, and she started to when something stopped her. It was a sound, a giggle of all things. Ana wondered if maybe there was more than one person out there hiding, or if maybe this had been some kind of joke on the new girl. The idea turned her blood icy. She turned to run back to the house when a movement caught the corner of her eye. Another giggle had her frowning. The bushes just a few feet away rustled. Ana speared her hips with her hands and stiffened her spine. This was her home. No one had the right to make her feel scared.
Armed with sheer grit and stupidity, she marched towards it.
“Hey! You, behind those bushes!” she called, silently patting herself on the back for keeping her voice firm. “Get out before I start shooting!” It was probably a bad idea to announce she had a weapon when she didn’t. Plus, it could have been a possum she was yelling at, or some other animal that lived only in small places like Chipawaha Creek. “You have five seconds! One. Two. Three…!”
The bushes rustled loudly, splitting the night with the crack of branches breaking and very rude, very human cuss words. Then, like some stripper in a birthday cake, a boy lunged out, naked from the waist up. Something long and silver was clutched in his hand. It caught the light from the porch and sparked like fire.
Panic slammed like a fist in Ana’s chest as she scrambled back. The scream left her throat about the same time as something caught her ankles and sent her colliding with the hard ground. Pain sliced through her hip and up her entire left side. The air careened out of her lungs, paralyzing her from crying out again. Then, the maniac was on h
er and the touch of cold steel kissed her skin.
“Quiet!” a gruff, male voice hissed into her ear.
Chapter Two
Ana
Ana tried to scream through the large hand squishing her nose and mouth. Her efforts only managed to earn her a series of incoherent squeaks that dampened the flesh holding her down. Long fingers curled around her cheek, oddly gentle considering his other hand was gripping the back of her skull.
“I’m going to let you go, okay? But you have to promise you won’t scream. Promise?”
Breathing hard, lungs aching for air, Ana squeaked as she thrashed against the hold, clawing at the knuckles holding her face, cutting off her oxygen. Her eyes rolled wildly inside her skull, searching the darkness for her capture’s face. His cheek brushed hers in her flailing. The minty scent of his breath and the fragrance of pine, sweat and spices wafted over her. Something feather-soft touched her face. It was his hair. Oh, God … he was too close!
“Hey,” he said, his voice unnaturally soothing for someone who was about to kill her. “Relax! I’m not going to hurt you!”
Says the guy holding my face! she wanted to say, but resorted to even more frantic squawking.
“You’re probably suffocating her, Rafe,” a soft, female voice crooned from behind him.
Rafe stiffened. “Oh!” His hands instantly dropped away. “Sorry. You okay?”
Ana gasped, choking and gulping on air like a fish too long without water. She wheezed as she rolled onto her hands and knees before scrambling up to her unsteady feet.
“Are … you … crazy?” she shrieked, panting. “What is wrong with you?” Her hands flew out and slammed into a solid wall of bare, taut muscles. It felt good, even though it had no real effect on him. “What are you doing on my property?”
Truth be told, she didn’t really need to ask. One look at the two staring back at her and she knew exactly what she’d interrupted.
The girl was none-too hastily doing up the buttons on her top while never minding the fact that her jean skirt was bunched around her waist, exposing Ana to a pair of lacy red panties. Her heavily lidded eyes stared back with a sort of challenge, daring Ana to say something about it, but Ana was no longer looking at her.