I stood in front of Dru and Dhelia’s English class, unaware that my feet had carried me down the hall simply by reflex alone.
As I lifted my hand to knock, I could see Dru on the other side of the room jump to his feet and rush towards the door.
Before he could make it to the front of the class, Mrs. Reiter pulled the door open. “Yes, Miss. Bishop? Can I help you?”
As I opened my mouth, Dru and Dhelia stopped beside her.
With three sets of eyes upon me, the only words I could manage in a broken voice were, “There’s been a terrible accident. We need to leave right away.”
They knew.
It was written all over their innocent faces.
The helpless look in their eyes sent the pain of a piercing bullet straight through my heart.
An inner battle raged inside of me.
I wasn’t strong enough for this.
My heart was determined to protect my family—but my mind knew there was no way I would succeed if my family ever learned the truth.
In that moment, I knew I could never tell them what happened. What really happened. There was no way I would be responsible for destroying my family—and remaining in Lindenhurst around magic would destroy me.
So I chose to keep the ugly secrets surrounding their death.
No one could ever know my father was an adulterer—and a murderer. No matter what.
I knew our lives would never be the same again, and I would be forced to abandon the only family I had left.
I had no choice but to leave.
I couldn’t be around them and risk the truth coming out. Especially since I often talk in my sleep—and during visions.
So I ran.
Away from my family.
Away from my magical gift.
And away from the truth.
After the funeral, I took what money I had and flew to California with my mother’s twin sister, Morgan. And I’ve spent the last six years in San Diego with the one person who hates magic more than I do.
But now, it’s time to rebuild my family’s trust—and gain forgiveness for running away when they needed me the most.
For the most part, I think Dru forgave me years ago. Dhelia, however, may never. And she’ll never stop punishing me.
Being back home now is the first step. If we can make it through Pap’s surgery tomorrow, there just might be hope for this family after all.
* * *
So today’s the day.
With heavy hearts, we arrive at the North Shore University Hospital.
Unlike yesterday, this morning is painfully quiet. Uncomfortable even. What’s even worse, last night the vision of my parent’s death came back to me twice—in its entirety—causing my head to pound this morning.
Pressing my fingertips to my throbbing temples, I watch the floor numbers on the elevator ascend at a sluggish pace. Regret and hesitation—along with the desire to be anywhere but here— ricochets through my mind as I wait for another unwanted vision to accost me.
Ding-ding. “Fifth floor,” a canned electronic voice calls out from above. Finally! Readjusting my oversized bag on my shoulder, I step out into the hospital lobby.
Minutes after arriving to Pap’s room, his neurologist, Dr. Gaslightwala, and his oncologist, Dr. Hashem, meet with us to go over the surgery. They educate the family members who haven’t had a chance to speak with them before today. I know I was worried before, but after hearing what they have to say, everything becomes real. He could actually die during surgery, before he’s even able to fight the cancer.
Once the doctor’s finish, we give Pap our love before they wheel him off to the OR, then we make ourselves comfortable in the waiting area just outside his room.
But there’s something I really think I need to. It’s a bit out of character for me, but I just might be more useful somewhere else. “Gram, I’m heading over to the chapel for a bit.”
With a curious smile, she says, “Good idea, dear. Mind if I tag along?”
Um, well I guess not. “Not at all.”
She gets up. Standing beside me, she grabs my hand to lead me down the hall. Within seconds, I spot our destination about twenty yards ahead. Just as we pass the nurses’ station, I notice one of Pap’s doctors talking to someone with a familiar face: that hot guy from the airport.
No way!
The second I spot him across the room, I gawk like a rubber-necker at a freeway accident. I’ve seen cute guys before, but this is ridiculous. My face heats up as I turn back to my family sitting in the waiting room. I seriously hope no one saw my deer-in-headlights look.
“Let me go check my lipstick, dear. Wait for me?” Gram asks, a questioning look on her face as she notices me staring at a stranger.
I stop. “Yeah. Sure.”
Countless times, I’ve heard people mention the affect a stranger had on them at first sight. I never quite understood what they meant. But given my youthful cynicism, it’s likely I just didn’t believe them. Has the time come for me to be proven wrong?
I stand outside the restroom waiting for Gram, but I can’t help looking his way again. The longer I stare, the more I want to hear his voice.
Busted! Now he’s caught me staring at him, but it’s only fair, right?
He winks before turning his attention back to the doctor.
“I think he likes you, dear,” Gram whispers, awakening the rest of my senses as I jump. She squeezes my hand and giggles. “Are you okay?”
“Of course,” I reply in a snippy tone. “That guy with Dr. Gaslightwala looks familiar. I just can’t figure out where I’ve seen him.”
“Oh yes, that must be it.” Gram and I turn towards each other, a smirk lighting up her face. “Well, you be sure to fill me in once you figure it out, dear.”
Unable to ignore her sarcasm, I look the other way as we start back down the hall.
Inside the empty chapel, we sit in the front row where Gram begins the ritual so many before us have completed. Although, I can’t help but wonder how successful they’d been.
Regardless of one’s religious affiliation, praying for a sick loved one seems to be a universal response. Even for those who don’t pray at all. Like me. But I often wonder, if praying isn’t part of one’s normal routine, why would God answer a request in a moment of need? Isn’t it hypocritical to pray only when God’s help is needed?
Shame for my lack of faith creeps through my body, sending uneasiness through my limbs. I’ve always been a spiritual person. But after my parent’s death, I shied away from anything related to religion. Especially Wicca.
As I rationalize my hypocrisy, my thoughts drift back to the familiar face I’d seen only moments ago. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a better looking guy in my life, which is why I know I could never forget his face. So where have I seen him? This is gonna drive me nuts!
Okay, focus. Your pap needs you now, so who cares about some cute guy.
I force my brain back on track.
It’s been so many years since I’ve done any religious studying, I can’t remember which God I should be praying to for protection and healing. A truth I would never admit to Gram. Not unless I have a death wish.
I lean down, covering my face with my hands. I know it’s been a while, but please God, any God who can hear me…please protect my grandfather. Please make him come out of this surgery okay. I don’t know if my gram could survive losing him. I’ll do anything. Just please let him be okay. We need him. It’s not his time.
The second I finish, I raise my head, opening my eyes to Gram staring ahead with a peaceful smile on her face. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she doesn’t look worried at all. It doesn’t make much sense, but I guess everyone deals with stress in their own way.
It’s somewhat unsettling to see her so at ease, while the rest of the family is so tense. If we were home now, I’d imagine she’d be in her sunroom mixing potions. Devising the perfect spell. That is, if she hasn’t already. Realizing I’m watchi
ng her, she squeezes my knee and gives me a sweet smile. “Are we ready then, dear?”
Oh, you have no idea. “Yep. I think so, Gram.” I smile back.
I wrap my arm around Gram’s petite shoulders, when an unfamiliar male voice interrupts us. “Excuse me, Miss?”
I turn to find the very face that’s been penetrating my thoughts for the last thirty minutes. “Yes?” My hands begin to shake.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but do I know you from somewhere? I have the feeling we’ve met before.” He blushes, tilting his head to the side.
I smile. “That’s funny. I sort of thought the same thing when I saw you earlier.”
Head-to-toe goose bumps devour me. Great. Oh, please don’t let him notice.
He steps closer, now less than a foot away. If this were any other guy I didn’t know, I’d feel like he’s invading my personal space. But with this guy, however, I have the unfamiliar sense he’s not close enough.
He pulls his hand from his pocket, lifting it towards me in a polite gesture. “Hi. My name’s Hunter Payne. It’s nice to meet you.”
The second he wraps his warm, smooth fingers around my hand, sparks shoot through me like lightning.
“Hi.” I clear my throat. “I’m Chloe Bishop. It’s nice to meet you, too.” My smile widens, but I have this odd feeling he can read my every thought. Transparency has always been a weakness of mine. My cheeks flush as I lower my head.
Suddenly aware that he’s still holding onto me, I glance at our clasped hands. Catching on at almost the exact moment, he releases his hold. Embarrassment makes its home across his now rosy cheeks. “Oh, sorry.”
From some place close behind, the sound of a clearing throat gets our attention. Gram stands with a bemused smile painted across her shimmering mauve lips.
“Please, forgive my manners. I’m Hunter. It’s nice to meet you, Miss?”
She nods with a sheepish grin. “I’m Aurora. Chloe’s grandmother. It’s very nice to meet you, dear.” He takes her hand, shaking it with a quiet grace. “You have a lovely granddaughter, but I’m sure you already knew that.” They exchange a brief smile.
“Well, I’m heading to the waiting area in case the doctor comes back. You kids finish getting better acquainted.” She turns to leave. “No need to hurry, dear. We’ll be here all day.” She takes a few steps forward, turning her head back to give us a naughty grin. It’s always humorous when Gram thinks she’s being sneaky. Sorry Gram. Not this time.
“She’s a real firecracker. I’m sure your grandfather has his hands full with that one.” Hunter chuckles, shaking his head as we watch her saunter away.
“Oh, you have no idea.” Then it hits me. “Wait, how do you know about my pap?”
“I was with his doctor when you walked by earlier. He saw me watching you, so he mentioned your pap’s his patient. He thinks a lot of your grandparents.”
“Yeah, they usually have that effect on people.” I look down. “So, have you figured out how we know each other?”
He shakes his head. “No, I haven’t. I keep racking my brain, but no luck. You?” His eyebrows lift, waiting for my answer.
“No, me neither.” I might as well be honest. “Actually, I haven’t lived here for quite a few years…so perhaps we’re wrong about this.”
He rub his throat, head tipping to the side. “Really, for how long?”
“I lived in San Diego for a little over six years.”
“Oh, wow. That’s cool. When did you get back to town?”
I shift my weight to my left foot. “Oddly enough, I just got in early yesterday morning.”
“Oh. So you must be in town for your pap then?” His smile fades.
“Well, not exactly. I mean, yes, it’s what brought me here this week…but I decided to move back permanently.” I fidget with my purse strap, suddenly unsure of what to do with my hands.
As fast as the cheerfulness faded from his face, it returns. “Then I guess what I should be saying is, ‘welcome back’.”
“Thank you.” Excitement swims through my body. Why does his reaction have so much of an effect on me? I’ve been around good-looking guys before, but I’ve never reacted this way. Yes, he’s gorgeous, but looks aren’t everything. I’ve never been the shallow type to get caught up in the superficial.
“You decided? Isn’t your family moving with you?”
“Um. Well most of them are already here.”
“Really? You must have cool parents to let you live across the country for so long.”
I hang my head for a second. “It wasn’t like that.” Crap, here goes. “They ah...they were killed in a car wreck, so I’ve been living with my aunt in California. My brother and sister stayed here with my grandparents.”
His face turns the shade of a Hot Tamale. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume...or to pry.” He shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans as his eyes dart nervously around the room.
Crap, I didn’t mean to embarrass him.
“It’s okay.” I look down, shifting my feet from side to side. “Classes at San Diego State were over anyway, so moving back makes sense with my pap and everything.”
An awkward silence fills the space between us, but is short-lived by a loud voice booming over the hospital intercom. I jump.
As if remembering something he’d forgotten, he checks his watch. “I really hate to cut this short, but I should probably get to work before my boss sends out a search party. It would appear someone made me lose track of the time.” He shoots me a wry smile, blinding me with his impeccably perfect, white teeth.
With heat rushing back to my cheeks, I lower my head. He grabs my hand again, lifting it to his mouth and taking me off guard.
The instant his silky lips touch the top of my hand, he brands my flesh. Our eyes lock. A fever and the chills overcome me at the same time. I can’t move. A blanket of horripilation covers my entire body. Not a good day for short sleeves. Oh god, please don’t let him notice the game of peek-a-boo my skin insists on playing.
He releases my hand, but his eyes remain fixed on mine. “Something tells me the next time we see each other, neither one of us will have difficulty remembering this moment.”
Unable to speak, a faint smile curls up the corners of my mouth, prolonging the color I feel inching its way across my cheeks.
“It truly was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Chloe.” As he turns to leave, he looks down at my arms. “Perhaps you should bring a sweater next time?” A faint chuckle escapes from under his breath, adding to my implacable humiliation.
My mouth opens, but no words come out.
Nothing.
Isn’t that just perfect!
Chapter 3
Driving Miss Crazy
What’s wrong with me?
In the blink of an eye, Hunter walks to the elevator. Gone before I can regain enough composure to utter a simple “goodbye”.
“I’m such an idiot!” bursts from my mouth. Sure. Now I can speak just fine. Of course!
He must think I’m such a moron. If not, he must at least think I’m a silly little girl who can’t speak coherently.
I look up. “Shoot me now, please!”
If I’m ever lucky enough to see him again, or rather, if he isn’t so turned-off by my childish behavior to speak to me again—I swear I’ll be in control of myself.
“Chloe. Are you planning to join us anytime in the near future?” The sound of my sister’s irritated voice startles me.
“I’ll be right there,” I snap. Then I take a deep breath in an attempt to regain the pretense of composure. I’ll never hear the end of it if Dhelia finds out how big of an ass I made of myself in front of such a gorgeous guy.
With hesitation creeping up my spine, I walk back to where my family sits with expectant grins. I stop at the edge of the waiting area while they do their best to appraise my demeanor. In light of why we’re here, perhaps I should allow them the distraction. It certainly seems to have them intrigued. An
ticipation spreads across their smiling faces.
I suppose I can handle the ridicule, as long as it takes their minds off Pap. I’ll call it my penance for the day.
Dru moves over on the bench, eagerly patting the area beside him. As my butt makes contact with the metal seat, he nudges my arm. I wrinkle my nose in an attempt to dissuade him, but he just bats his thick lashes while pretending to fan himself. “Why so red, Sis? You look all hot and bothered.”
Oh crap. I might as well tell them the embarrassing truth. “Well, let’s just say...nothing instills confidence like making a complete ass of yourself in front of the most gorgeous guy you’ve ever met.” I emulate a sob, sticking my head between my knees in an attempt to achieve the proper dramatic effect.
The sound of their laughter warms my heart.
Yes, without a doubt, I made the right choice.
“Tell us everything, and don’t leave out one painful detail,” Aunt Morgan gleefully chimes in.
We spend the next twenty minutes rehashing every second of my encounter. The good, the bad, and the very ugly. Most humorous to everyone, including myself, is the fact that he rendered me speechless.
That never happens.
I’m the girl who always has something to say, and guys never affect me. Sure, I’ve liked guys. I’ve had boyfriends. I even thought I was in love once. But my heart wasn’t broken when it didn’t work out. I was fine. If you’re in love, it should hurt when it ends, right?
Everyone knows I don’t daydream about a knight in shining armor rescuing me.
I don’t fantasize about getting married and having children.
I’m not against it or anything—I know it sometimes works. My grandparents are proof of that. I may even decide one day down the road it’s something I want, but until I finish school and start my career, I won’t be able to focus on anything else. It’s not part of my five-year plan.
The morning crawls by once we finish discussing my entertaining encounter. But the longer we wait, the antsier we get while we wait for word on the surgery. Patience is not something anyone in our family was blessed with. Not even close.
Tethered (A BirthRight Novel) Page 4