Cornered (The Corded Saga #2)

by Alyssa Rose Ivy

  She nodded ever so slightly, and I walked in her direction.

  “I never imagined we’d have to say goodbye.” Kayla stared out at the lake. We’d barely spoken as the plans were made over the course of a few weeks. We were meeting up with others like us—others that wanted to change things. We needed numbers if we were going to break through the walls—both physical and virtual— built by our leaders. They needed me to help them find these other groups, or really what they needed me for was protection along the way. The weeks of planning were followed by weeks of training, and in my case the weeks involved struggling to process all the new memories coming back to me. I wasn’t entirely sure why they were flowing back now. It was as if the time in Central had broken the spell and brought everything back.

  Addison was coming with us. Maverick was staying behind. Officially he was staying behind to provide his scientific expertise to the planners back at the camp, but he was also staying to watch Quinn and Bailey. He’d take care of Kayla too. He’d promised me without my having to ask.

  “This isn’t goodbye.” Goodbyes had a finality to them, and there was nothing final about my departure. I’d be back, and hopefully the result will have been worth my absence.

  “Then what is it?” She turned to look at me. “You are leaving, aren’t you?”

  “It’s an until I see you again soon.” It was hard enough mobilizing myself to leave at all. Having to explain myself to Kayla made it seem so much worse. “And I will stay if you ask me to. You know that. I made a promise to you, and breaking it is tearing me apart.”

  “I can’t ask you to. You have to go. Just like I had to go in search of Quinn and Bailey. We all have to do things, but it doesn’t mean they are easy.” She looked down at the ground.

  I took her hand in mine. “No. They aren’t easy at all.”

  “You told me we’d have a maybe someday.” She looked up. “Doing this… this might get us there. Or it might at least get Bailey there.”

  “And I will be back.” I squeezed her hand. “I swear I will be.”

  “I know you will be.” Her eyes locked on mine. “You will come back, or I’ll come searching. You know I’m pretty good at tracking down the people I love.”

  She’d used the word love before, but there was something about hearing it fall from her lips this time that did me in.

  I pulled her into my arms as my lips claimed hers. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her body against mine.

  I didn’t hold back. I pushed for entrance to her mouth, and took full control, needing her in every possible way.

  We fell down onto the blankets I’d laid out on the shore. We were over a mile from anyone else, and I wasn’t going to waste our few hours of privacy.

  We pulled at each other’s clothing, throwing them off all at once to remove the separation between us. I let my lips descend on her breast, my hand slid between her legs. I watched her chest heave, listened to her moans as she thrust up her hips from the blankets. She reached out for me, taking me in her hand. “Mason, now.”

  I wouldn’t leave her waiting. I positioned myself over her, looked deep into her eyes, and thrust inside of her, returning to my favorite place.

  We moved together perfectly, each of my thrusts bringing me deeper inside of her until she had my entire length. Each of her gasps and moans propelled me on, as I struggled to hold on, determined to take care of her needs before my own. As soon as I pushed her over the edge, I gave in to my own release.

  I stayed inside her long after, unable to break the physical connection that represented so much more than sex.

  We lay there, listening to each other’s heartbeats and breathing before I reluctantly pulled out and rolled next to her. I pulled up an extra blanket on top of us.

  “There is no beauty greater than you.” I ran my hand over her collar bone.

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “I mean that in the truest sense.”

  “You are the most handsome man I’ve ever met, but that’s not why I love you.”

  “Your beauty is only a small part of why I love you.”

  It was a new experience for me to be so open with another. Kayla made me wish I were more articulate, so my words could somehow express all the different emotions flowing through me.

  She rested her head on my chest. “Life is full of the strangest experiences.”

  “Are you suggesting being intimate with me is strange?” I ran my hands through her hair.

  “No.” She laughed. “I’m not.”

  “Then explain, please.” Sometimes it was impossible to understand Kayla, but that only made me more determined to get to know her better. There was so much more to learn.

  “I just mean the whole thing. We met because I was searching for an old friend to help me find Quinn and Bailey, then the club burned down, I ran off to Central, we broke out, and now we are at an old summer camp, or whatever Denver called it. Now you are off to fight a battle we didn’t even know existed until we showed up here.”

  “When you put it that way, it is strange,” I teased.

  “Those stars remind me of home.” She pointed to the sky.

  “They are the same stars everywhere, aren’t they?”

  “You were never able to see them in the City though.” There was a sadness in her words, as though she pitied my past. She didn’t know the half of it, but I knew as much as she had fond memories of the Rurals, her childhood wasn’t easy either.

  “I was never able to go out at night, so even if they were visible, they weren’t for me.”

  “I wonder if they’ll be visible where you’re going.” She ran her hands down my chest.

  “I don’t really know where I’m going.” I was going to have to get better at following blindly. Maybe Kayla could teach me a thing or two.

  “Far from here…” She snuggled more into my side. Her bare skin felt heavenly against my own, and I knew I’d long for that sensation in the weeks to come.

  “Too far away from you but not forever.”

  “Not forever.” She kissed me lightly on the lips.

  I closed my eyes and savored everything about my Kayla.

  Twenty-Four

  Kayla

  Three months later

  * * *

  Working the fields again felt good. Natural. When the sun was high in the sky, I could pretend I was back home in the Rurals. When night fell I faced reality again, and I thought of Mason.

  I was horrible at waiting. I’d been reckless when Quinn and Bailey were taken, but then I’d been able to act on it. I had a place to go—a goal in mind. This time things were different. Mason wasn’t missing, he was just away. He was away for the right reason—a just reason—yet there was an irrational part of me that was angry. Not at him, but at the situation. He was my Mason, why did I have to say goodbye to him so soon?

  “Kayla!” Bailey ran through the wheat field. “Kayla!”

  “Hi, Bailey.” I smiled, loving how free and happy she was. That was one good thing about our temporary home. Bailey was getting her first taste of a real childhood. I set down my trowel. The sun was going to set soon, and I needed to get back to the cabins in time for dinner.

  “You ready to head in?” Quinn appeared across the field.

  “I’ll meet you up there. You two go ahead.” I pointed Bailey in the direction of her mother. I watched as she ran straight to Quinn, and jumped right into her arms. I waved before heading back down toward the lake.

  I walked along the shore of the lake, stopping at the spot where Mason and I had spent our last evening together, wondering if he could still see the same stars when darkness fell. It had been a mistake to get close to him, to let myself need him so badly. In the end it was entirely my fault, but that didn’t make the ache inside me any easier to handle.

  They were only supposed to be gone a few weeks, but months had passed. Ramona said it was completely normal. I accepted her words because I couldn’t bear any other outcome.r />
  I looked up at the first moments of the sunset, and my hand moved over my stomach as I felt the strangest sensation. Then I felt it again. I stared back up at the sky as I realized what the sensation was. I kept my hand in the same spot until I felt it a third time—a kick.

  Thank You

  Thank you for reading Cornered. I hope you enjoyed it! Please consider leaving an honest review at your point of purchase. Reviews help me in so many ways!

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  Afterword

  The Corded Saga will continue soon! Please keep reading for a preview of Forged in Stone (The Forged Chronicles #1) by Alyssa Rose Ivy.

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  Forged in Stone

  Forged in Stone

  The Forged Chronicles

  Alyssa Rose Ivy

  * * *

  The son of darkness is all grown up...

  James is a Guardian. He is tasked with protecting the most important person in his world. For eight years he has done his job without complaint, but he has grown tired of living under the shadow of a father who is responsible for the most unimaginable violence and destruction his world has ever known.

  Ainsley is at a loss for what to do with her life. She hates her two dead end jobs and the family who betrayed her. She has resigned herself to living one day at a time, but she longs for an escape from her lonely life.

  When Ainsley finds James in her bed, their two lives and worlds collide. They may have both found exactly what they need, but the darkness James has been running from his whole life has just caught up.

  James

  The dated rock music was giving me a headache. If not for the alcohol still left in my glass I would have been out of the bar already. Even the redhead hanging on my every word was getting to me. Did girls no longer believe in the chase?

  “James?” she said my name with an exaggerated southern drawl that came across as almost fake. It probably was.

  “Yes?” I blinked a few times trying to bring things back into focus. I had drunk far too much, but there was nothing I could do about that now.

  “Are you even listening to me?” She tapped her fingers on the bar top between us.

  “No.” I took in the faded blue paint on the walls. The place had seen better days, but it served my needs perfectly. No one thought anything of the quiet guy getting plastered at the bar. I blended in.

  “I asked you if you wanted to take me home. I only live a few blocks from here.” She put her hand on my upper thigh.

  I looked into her glazed over green eyes. “Probably not.”

  “Oh.” Hurt marred her overly made-up face, and for a second I felt bad, but then it faded. She would be even more hurt when I left her in the morning. Besides, if she was half as drunk as I was, she had no idea what she was asking.

  “I am doing you a favor.” I downed the rest of my beer. It was some crappy lager I had no plans to try again. I had chosen it as an alternative to the whiskey that had filled my glass earlier in the evening.

  “Oh.” She stared at me blankly. She clearly liked that word.

  “See you around.” I moved over a stool to make sure she got the less than subtle hint. I did not particularly enjoy being mean, but I had no time or energy to play nice.

  Loud laughter got my attention. “Cold.”

  I looked at the aging bartender chuckling in front of me before glancing down at the now vacant stool the redhead had been seated on. “Honesty.”

  “You have to admit that was harsh.” He leaned on his elbows. “Do you usually treat pretty girls that way?”

  “Would it have been better to have bedded her and never spoken to her again?”

  He straightened up. “No, but there is an in-between. There is value in politeness.”

  “And what value is that?” I pushed my empty beer glass toward the bartender. “Give me something stronger this time.”

  “I can’t serve you more. We both know that.”

  “And we both know you make exceptions.” I was drunk. There was no question about that, but I needed more to numb the emptiness. Otherwise there was no point in having made the trip into Charleston.

  “I can’t serve you more booze, but I don’t mind listening.”

  “Listening?” I raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like I want someone to listen?”

  “You’re wasted before nine o’clock at night. You need someone to talk to.”

  “Next time I will wait until later to get intoxicated.” I tossed down enough money to cover double my tab and stumbled out of the bar.

  The cool night was a welcome change from the stifling heat of the overcrowded dive. It had been years since I lived in the city of Charleston, South Carolina, but one thing remained the same. They still insisted on pumping heat into buildings the second the temperature dropped south of sixty degrees. I doubted that most of the people at the bar could survive long where I came from.

  The city portion of my walk should not have taken long, but it did. I guess that happens when you get pissed drunk. I knew Charleston well from the months I lived there in high school—and the few nights I spent there now. I spent most of my time in an altogether different place, a place that had stopped feeling like home years ago. A place that was literally another world.

  I was far too exhausted to make it all the way back home, so I stopped at the one place I could in the city. I had no key, but I had another plan to get in. I went around back, taking one cursory look into the withering garden before starting my climb up the thick ivy that wound its way all the way up to the third story balcony.

  The ivy swayed under my weight, but I made it onto the balcony without breaking my neck. I shook the doorknob with enough force to get it to budge. I pushed the door open, kicked off my boots, and tossed my shirt before collapsing on the queen sized bed. It was not my bed, but at the moment any bed would do.

  Ainsley

  I was living the life of a TV sitcom friend. You know the type: the boring one that serves no purpose except to make the main character seem more interesting. I worked not one, but two dead end jobs. I didn’t know which was worse, serving frozen yogurt or working as an office assistant at a law firm. Neither had anything to do with my career goals, but as my mom always said, beggars can’t be choosers. My art history degree had proved as useful as it sounded. I couldn’t manage to land a job working in a gallery, let alone a museum. I’d eventually have to go back to school to get a degree in something useful, but the thought of spending time in a classroom wasn’t something I could stomach. At twenty-two, I was just happy to be paying the bills without moving back in with my parents. It was more than most of my friends could say. Or at least most of the friends I still had.

  I waited impatiently as a couple stared at the flavor listing above my head. They’d been in the frozen yogurt shop for twenty minutes already. We only offered a dozen flavors. The decision couldn’t have been that hard to make. “We close at nine.” I used the most polite voice possible, but as it was 8:56 I figured they needed a reminder.

  “That means you don’t let new customers in after nine. We’re already here. You can’t kick us out.” The guy wrapped his arm around his date’s waist. “Don’t worry baby, there’s no rush.”

  I bit my tongue. Who did this clown think he was? If I wasn’t certain the guy would report me and get me fired, I would have given him a piece of my mind. Instead I started wiping up a sticky spot on the counter I’d overlooked
earlier. Despite how boring the job was, it did pay decently, and I didn’t mind my boss.

  “Can I try the vanilla again? I’m not sure I liked it.” The girl pointed at the hard yogurt in the case in front of her.

  Seriously? Who tried vanilla twice? I mean everyone in the world knew what that flavor tasted like. I gritted my teeth. “Sure.” I picked up one of the small pink spoons and scooped a tiny amount. I handed it to her.

  She tasted it. “I’m still not sure.”

  I glanced at the neon colored clock by the door. It was two minutes after nine now. “I’m sorry, but I really have to close.”

  “No you don’t. You’re going to let my girlfriend take her time and pick a flavor.” The guy puffed out his chest like that was supposed to intimidate me or something.

  I sighed before glancing at the clock again. I was going to be late meeting my friends for drinks. Or really my friend Grace and her other friends. Saying it in the plural made it sound better.

  “Is the chocolate chip cookie dough flavor good?” The girl batted her long eyelashes. I’d have bet a lot they were fake.

  “If you like cookie dough, yes.”

  She nodded as though I’d just shared some life altering secret. “Can I try that one too?”

  I sighed again. “Sure.” I took out another pink spoon.

  She tried it. “I changed my mind. I don’t want anything.” The girl turned toward the door.

  “I agree. Horrible service here.” The guy followed her and slammed the door behind him.

  I silently cursed them while I wiped down the rest of counter. There was a time in my life when I got along with everyone. That time had come and passed. Now I was lucky if I could handle being in the same room as someone who rubbed me the wrong way. It made working in the service industry dicey, especially when your customers were mostly tourists. I loved living in Charleston, but sometimes I wished I lived somewhere a little more off the beaten path.