by Krystal Wade
Derick’s smiling face lit my screen, and my heart.
A heart that wouldn’t learn, apparently. “Hello?”
“How’d your first day home go?”
“Terrible.” That was an understatement. “I think I would have preferred sitting through an eternity of Ms. Wiley’s class.”
Ms. Wiley talked so slowly. Reading a paragraph aloud took almost the entire hour and a half of our English block. On rare occasions, we’d make it through a chapter of a book. Very rare.
“Sounds bad.”
If he only knew the half of it, but I wasn’t ready to tell him about the adoption. Not until after we talked about why he ditched me. “Nothing I won’t get over.”
Derick’s blinker clicked through the Bluetooth connection; we lived two miles from school. He was almost home. “Listen, your dad called me—”
“What?” I nearly dropped the phone. If my dad called Derick, it couldn’t be for anything good.
“Calm down. He basically said if I break your heart, he’ll break me.”
“I’m going to kill him—”
“Your father loves you, Abigail. But he also said if I want to spend time with you, to stay near the house, or always keep you in my sight. I guess rescuing you earned me some bonus points.” I heard him grinning through the receiver. Probably not a good time to tell him rescuing me was the only reason we were even on the phone. “I think we should stay away from the woods for a while.”
“But—”
“It’s not safe, not while those guys are still out there.” His blinker went off again.
“Where are you?”
Derick laughed, warm and comforting and incredibly sexy. “In your driveway.”
I rushed out of my room, looking over the top of the sparkly Christmas tree, through the big foyer window. Derick’s flat-black Mustang sat at the end of our long driveway. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.” He got out of his car then leaned against it, staring up at the second floor. The winter sun radiated in his hair, enhancing his sporadic streaks of blond. “Mark’s parents grounded him, so I offered to drive him home. Would you like to come with us?”
“They grounded him?” I doubled back for my room, grabbed my bag, then went downstairs.
“They felt what he did was heroic but reckless. They grounded him for not calling the police sooner.”
I stopped halfway down the stairs. “Since when are the two of you such good friends?”
“Since he was the one who noticed the guy putting you in his trunk. Mark paid me a visit after your date.”
The trunk. The smell. The dust. I was right there again, bound and gagged. My breath escaped me.
“You still with me?” Derick asked, his voice low and cautious, as if speaking too loud would make me have a break down.
I headed for the family room. “I’m here. I’ll be out in a minute. I’m just going to tell my mom where we’re going.”
Mom perked up when she heard her name, ignoring the book in her hands. I’m pretty sure she hadn’t turned a page all day long.
“Tell her I’m taking you to dinner afterward.”
“Dinner? Where are you taking me?”
“You going out with Derick?” Mom whispered.
I nodded.
“Keep your cell phone on.” She stood and planted another kiss on me; I hoped her guilt disappeared soon. “And make sure to check in every now and then—”
“So I’m just supposed to call and give you updates?”
My mom smiled and shook her head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re eighteen next week, and you’ll be with Derick. Can you at least let me know where you’re at when you get wherever you’re going?”
“Sure.”
“Be home by midnight.”
“I will. Thanks, Mom.” I bolted to the front door, hoping to avoid more waterworks.
When I opened it, Derick stood there wearing a pair of jeans, white tennis shoes, and a tight black T-shirt. He slipped his phone into his back pocket, grabbed my bag, then guided me toward his car. “Took you long enough.”
I stuck out my tongue before I remembered I was supposed to be angry with him. “I needed help tying my shoes.”
Derick grimaced as if my words punched his gut. “I’m so sorry, Abby. This shouldn’t have happened to you.”
“It’s not like it’s your fault,” I said, leaning my head to the side.
“Maybe it is”—Mark climbed into the back seat—“Maybe if he hadn’t stopped talking to you, you two would have been together.”
“Would you enjoy walking? I’m sure your mom would love to add another week to your punishment.” Derick helped me into the car and belt, then closed the door.
Mark leaned in between the two front seats, putting his face next to mine—and his injured forearm. “I like how guilty he is. Serves him right. I would never treat you that way.”
“Can you, for one minute, not think about yourself?” On one hand, I wanted to apologize for him having to get stitches. On the other hand, I wanted to swat him like a gnat.
He sat back, crossing his arms over his chest, a smug look plastered on his face.
My cell buzzed with a text from Megan. Just got home. Can I come see you?
Maybe later? Going out with Derick now.
She typed a frowny face. Slap him for me. <3
I will. Promise. <3
I slipped my phone into my bag and took a deep breath to chase away the confusion. Derick and I were together. He had a ton of explaining to do, but we were together.
He practically glided into his car, reached over, then cupped my cheek and smiled. “You ready to take this jerk home?”
I laughed at the irony, the jerk calling the nice guy a jerk. “Behave.”
“Hey, Abby, Derick!” Misty wandered over to our table in the back corner of The Capitol Ale House. She was our regular server, terrible but always friendly, and the food was to die for.
I don’t know how Derick found the money to take me to places like this. His parents rarely left the house, and he only worked as a grocery bagger, but they always had a ton of money. Derick said something about investment earnings, before the crash of the stock market, but I didn’t understand much of that, or how they had anything left.
“Hi, Misty.” I glanced down at my menu, though I had the thing memorized.
“I heard the news about what happened. If you need to talk, you should give me a call; I feel like you two are a couple of old friends. Although, with your hero here, I guess you don’t really need other friends.”
Derick grabbed my hand and ran his thumb over my knuckles, a gentle reassurance that he was here for me, and I didn’t have the strength to pull away. I needed my friends. “We should order.”
Misty reached into her black apron pocket, pulled out a pen, then tapped it to her plump lips. “Let me guess, you guys want to order a Bavarian pretzel with cheese and grapes for an appetizer and a braised lamb shank for dinner. Bring an extra plate, right?”
We ordered the same meal every time.
“Yes, thanks.” My cheeks flooded with heat.
How was everything in my life falling apart at once? Mark wanted me for his own, so he played up Derick’s every mistake. My best guy friend, and the only boy I cared romantically about in the whole world, rescued me and waltzed back into my life as if he never left. My parents withheld my truth from me. And Misty knew me so well, I couldn’t possibly hope to hide from the kidnappers.
They were on the loose, probably looking for me.
Misty bounced off toward the computer, her blonde hair swaying behind her as she returned to her job.
A tear fell in my lap.
Derick lifted my chin with his finger, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You’re going to be okay. You know I won’t let them get to you, right?”
“How’d you know?”
“You looked about ready to vomit as soon as Misty recited our order—the same thing we al
ways order. It’s just food, not a trail of clues.” Derick glanced around the restaurant. “Don’t see anyone here, not Mark, not even Megan. I’m surprised she didn’t follow you to keep tabs on your safety.”
An image of Megan in a ninja suit and stalking my every move made me laugh. “My personal bodyguard.”
“You know she was pretty freaked out yesterday, and the day before. Couldn’t handle being in the room with you while you were unconscious.”
And barely while I was conscious.
“She asked me to slap you.” Maybe he deserved it. Yes, he definitely deserved it.
“She’s your best friend and doesn’t want me to hurt you. I’m sure she’d slap me herself if she were here.” Derick laughed and glanced around again. So nervous, on guard. “Megan loves you, just like Mark—who’s acting very strange, by the way. I thought he was going to hit me at school. Seems everyone wants to love you, everyone wants you for themselves.”
“Not you.” I sniffled, ignoring his comment about Mark. His strange outburst at the hospital was the last thing I wanted to bring up. “Everyone wants a piece of me, but not you. And you’re all I want, all I think about.”
The self-respecting part of me yelled obscenities in my mind, berating me for laying my feelings on the line for Derick. So what if he turned me down? I needed to hear how he felt.
He caressed my jaw with his thumb. “I want you, too.”
I pulled away and clasped my hands in my lap. “So why did you leave? Why didn’t you call? Why wouldn’t you look at me, Derick? Every day you passed me in the halls as though I didn’t exist.” My words came out weak. I didn’t want to sound like a blubbering fool who couldn’t live without him, but the truth was: I was a blubbering fool without him.
“This is not where I’d hoped to talk to you”—he looked around the restaurant, at the diners passing through on their way to a table, college students trying out one of the million different beers the place had to offer, wait staff darting from table to computer to bar to kitchen and back again—“but I guess it will have to do.”
“Why shouldn’t we talk here?”
Derick sighed, focusing his blue-eyed gaze on me. “Because you’re going to start yelling before I have a chance to finish telling you what happened.”
“Start talking. I promise not to yell.”
“I promise not to get upset when you break your promise.” A smile crept up the side of his face. “That night at The Griffin, your dad followed us.”
“Derick—”
“Let me finish. He’d come to me a few times already, saying I needed to stay away from you, that I would just bring you trouble, you were a good girl who I’d hold back because I came from a family of bums.”
“I don’t understand. Our moms are friends. How could my dad possibly say this?”
“I thought he was under the impression my family deals drugs or something.” Derick glanced down as Misty placed our pretzel between us. He waited for her to leave before speaking again. “Not many people live as well off as we do, solely surviving off the stock market.”
“But you’re not a bum. You already know you’re valedictorian of our class. Hell, every school you applied for accepted you.”
“That’s not the point. He saw us kiss, then he approached me after I dropped you off. Your dad said if he ever caught us together again, he was going to ship you off to an all-girls school.”
“This is some kind of lie”—I slid away from Derick, closer to the wall, glaring—“to pit me against my dad because you don’t want to tell the truth.”
He frowned and pulled out his cell. “I have proof.”
Glancing at the phone, I nearly threw up at the sight of his opened voice recorder app. And right then, I knew he’d told me the truth. “You recorded him? Why would you do that?”
“He threatened me so many times, and I never really took him seriously. I guess I found it kind of funny, and I guess I figured if he ever went through with any of his threats, I could play the recordings for you. But we don’t have to listen. There’s so much more to my story, so much more that will make you understand your dad’s actions.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “No. I need to hear it.”
“I’m sorry.”
He was, I knew it from the pitiful way he looked at me, but not as sorry as I was, not after hearing my dad scream and shout at the top of his lungs about what a piece of crap Derick was, how he’d destroy me, steal my youth, my innocence, not after hearing Dad say he’d ship me off.
“I’m going to kill him.”
Derick was right, I was utterly, raging mad at Dad. Nothing Derick could say would change that. I slid out of our booth and headed straight for the door, for home, but I stopped in the middle of the restaurant, my legs trembling beneath me.
Psycho Number One stood in the entryway. “Hello, Abigail.”
turned around and ran right into Derick, jarring my poor arm.
“Whoa. Change your mind?” He held my throbbing elbow, but I pushed him back, urging him to go, to run, to escape.
“H-he’s here.”
“Go to the bar and call Officer Daniels.” Derick nudged me to the side and made his way toward Psycho Number One, but he walked right past him.
My kidnapper watched Derick, a broad grin on his face. Strutting up to me, Boredas laughed. “You are waking up, noticing things you did not notice before. Your Guardian powers grow stronger, as does your essence’s light. Hiding here is impossible now.”
I reached into my bag, fumbling around for my cell phone.
“Save it. Calling for help will only make you look crazy. No one can see me but you. Well, maybe your boyfriend sees me, but I doubt it. Though, he has secrets of his own.” He glanced over his shoulder; Derick came through the door, confusion lining his face. “Nothing is as it seems, Abigail Nichols.”
Derick passed right through Boredas, and I stumbled back onto a barstool, shaking my head. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand. I feel fine, a little scared, but fine. How could I have PTSD, Derick? How can I be going crazy?”
He put his hands on my cheeks and forced me to look him in the eyes. “Slow down. Tell me what happened. I didn’t see anyone in the restaurant or outside—”
“He said you couldn’t see him—no, he said you might be able to see him, but no one else. He said you’re keeping secrets. Nothing is as it seems. That I can no longer hide here because my essence’s light is too bright and my powers are growing stronger.” My breath came at a rapid pace. Hyperventilating again. This sucked. “Derick, I need to go home. I need to call Dr. Pavarti. I need to yell at my dad. I need to go to bed, or take a bath, or put a pillow over my head.”
He pulled out his wallet and handed a fifty-dollar bill to the bartender. “Make sure Misty gets this. We were in the booth in the corner.”
We left the restaurant with our heads down. I didn’t make a scene—or at least I don’t think I did. What did I know? My mind was stuck somewhere between reality and trauma-induced visions. I could have screamed like a raving lunatic and not known.
Derick helped me into his car, then we got on the highway and headed for home.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” I searched through my bag for Dr. Pavarti’s number. He gave me a business card; it had to be in my purse somewhere.
“I think you’re stressed and tired.” Derick pulled into his driveway, then cut the engine.
“Aren’t you taking me home?”
“You live across the street, Abigail. I can walk you, but later. The last thing you need to do is go yelling at your dad about what he said to me, at least right now.” Derick ran around his car and opened the door for me. “Would you like to come in with me? We can watch your favorite movie, eat some popcorn—”
“On a school night?”
“Are you really going to school tomorrow?”
Probably not. Not after what happened tonight. Mom’s offer to skip for the next couple days looked better and better every p
assing hour. “Aren’t you?”
“Missing a day won’t kill me.” Taking my left hand, Derick tugged me toward his house. “Don’t make me beg. I’ll get on my knees.”
He wasn’t lying either. Derick fell to his knees, hands clasped beneath his chin and all. “Please. Please. Abigail Nichols, please come inside with me. You will make me the happiest man alive.”
“Fine. If you’re forcing me to.” My heart leapt. He always made me feel better, so warm, so wanted—most of the time anyway—and there was something else, too. Derick made me feel loved. “Let me text my mom.”
Returning to his feet, he laughed. “Begging gets all the girls.”
“All of them, huh?” I fumbled my phone, typing in a quick message to tell Mom I accepted her offer to skip school for the rest of the week and that Derick and I were at his house watching a movie.
“There’s only one who holds my heart.”
If he only knew he owned mine.
“Mom says okay. You know she and my dad are probably staring out the window now.” I checked. Just in case.
“Now that’s paranoia.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me? You know, about what he said? I could have talked to him.”
Derick opened the front door, allowing me to walk in first. “Trust me: you wouldn’t have talked him out of this.”
“But what’s changed?” I asked, slipping out of my coat so he could hang it in the closet.
“Me, you, everything.”
“That sounds… ominous.” And like it needs a lot more explanation.
“It is, but I’ll tell you more about that later.”
We went up to his room, queasiness settling in the pit of my stomach. Derick piled a bunch of pillows on his bed for me, popped in a movie, then lay down. Mrs. Crawford brought up the popcorn. She didn’t seem to care how close we were; my father would have died if he saw this, his baby girl too close to a boy he couldn’t stand.
“Enjoy the movie.” His mom flicked out the light and then closed the door.
“Why does she trust us together so much?”
Derick shrugged. “Maybe she figures I haven’t gotten you pregnant, so we must be doing something right.”