Clutching the railing just in case a mischievous ghost was around, I made my way down. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I breathed a sigh of relief. That’s when I realized I had no idea what I was doing there. I couldn’t remember why I’d wanted to come downstairs at all.
Not wanting to immediately turn around and go back upstairs, I headed to the kitchen, made myself a cup of tea, and grabbed a blanket from the couch. I was about to sit down when I hesitated. Something inside me urged me to go outside. For a second, I resisted. Was this how Mom felt? Following hunches, jumping at every current in the air, afraid of shadows? Maybe whatever had happened to her happened to all the women in our family when they reached a certain age. It might start slow like this, so people just thought we were quirky.
But I could tell this wasn’t all of it. That’s what scared me the most. Some gut feeling told me this was just the beginning. Suddenly, I was stepping through the glass door onto the deck, though I didn’t remember making the decision to go out. Eerie shivers gripped me, climbing my vertebrae like the rungs of a ladder.
I stepped closer to the outdoor fireplace, where a heap of coals glowed. I’d never actually seen a real-life fireplace before. The fact that it was outdoors, and didn’t even warm the house, both fascinated and impressed me. I’d spent so much time worrying about staying warm and not being wasteful that I couldn’t help but gape in awe at the extravagance. I’d tried to hide it when I was out here with Zeke and Peyton, but now I let myself marvel.
“Do you always sneak around in the dark?” a voice asked from the shadows behind me.
I spun around, holding back a cry of surprise. My heart hammered in my chest, and adrenaline burned through my limbs, making me shake all over. A little bit of it was fear, too. I hadn’t been alone with Xander before, and I had no desire to start now. Something about him terrified me, even as a part of me was inexplicably drawn to him.
“Do you always sneak up on people in the dark?” I asked after a few seconds too long. My throat was tight, and I wanted to edge toward the door, but I stayed where I was. If we were going to be part of the same family, part of the same household, we’d have to learn to live with each other. If I let him push me around now, it would never end.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, suddenly stalking forward out of the darkness. The firelight played off the lines of his gorgeous face, and a dangerous thrill ran through my body at the sight of those delectable lips, now twisted into a cruel sneer. It was all I could do not to reach out and run my thumb across his full lower lip, feel its softness for myself.
I wrestled to get my thoughts under control. I did not need to be thinking about his lips. I didn’t even know why my mind had gone there. He obviously hated me, and I should feel the same about him.
“I just came out to get some air,” I said, tightening my hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he growled, stalking closer to me, until I could feel the fiery heat of him crackling up my arms.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” I refused to step back, though my heart was rattling around in the cage of my ribs like a trapped bird. I would not let him see how much his nearness affected me. I’d dealt with scary men before. He was no different.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.
I tried not to let his harsh words cut through me, but they did. I’d gotten dirty looks all my life, but it had never felt personal before.
“Then I’ll just be going,” I said, scooting around him. The heat of his body climbed mine as he leaned in just as I passed.
A chuckle followed me as I scurried for the door. “Run away, little mouse,” he said, his voice an alluring purr. “This house is full of tomcats.”
Upstairs, I lay in bed shaking. I didn’t think he’d come in and snatch me from the bed while my mother slept, and yet dread pinned me to the mattress. Something wasn’t right here, no matter how right it felt at times. There was something dangerous here, some kind of trap. And we’d walked right into it.
I rolled over, staring at the window. I knew how to drive. I could take the keys and run, just keep driving until I hit the west coast, then turn around, pick a different highway, and drive until it ran out. It was easy to get lost and stay that way. We’d been doing it all my life.
Mom’s deep breathing told me she still slept. She didn’t want to go, and I couldn’t just leave her. Not after all she’d done for me. She’d told me that everything she did was to protect me. Though her rambling never made sense, that much was consistent. So why had she brought us here? How did this fit into her madness? There must be a piece to the puzzle that I was missing.
I had to find it before something happened. Though we’d stopped running, I was still waiting. For the first time in my life, Mom was the one content to stay, and I could feel the urgency pressing down on me, as if something ominous approached, just out of range of my senses. The premonition gripped me, the sense of dread. I’d always thought it was fear of having to run again or mom leaving me. But maybe it was more than that. Maybe I shared her madness.
She’d found peace here, but I hadn’t. I had to get back on the same page so I could understand what was happening to us. If I stopped resisting, opened myself to the possibilities and looked at this situation in a different light, from different angles, I might find the answers. I might make sense of how these people fit into our lives.
Chapter Fourteen
Gwen
The next morning caterers and florists invaded the house, and I spent most of the day worrying that the noise and people would upset Mom. Even the Keens got overwhelming—every time I turned around, one of the guys was there. Finally, I had to go up to our room to be alone for a minute. I found Mom in our bedroom, staring out the window. I could see in her unfocused eyes that she wasn’t peering down toward the beach, enjoying the sunshine reflecting off the water.
This was my last chance to be alone with her before she signed documents, made it permanent. Our last chance to go back to our old life.
I approached her with caution. I never knew when her blank stare meant she’d just zoned out like a normal person, or if she was hallucinating. This was not the time for her vague, cryptic statements, though. We needed sharp minds, snap decisions. It was now or never.
I opened my mouth to speak, but then I stopped. If it was never, if we stayed, I’d have a family. I’d belong. I could have a normal life with everything that entailed, just like Peyton and the guys did. A life I’d spent the last ten years dreaming of, when I was brave enough to let myself dream.
Instead of bringing peace, the thought fanned that ember of resentment inside me, and a flame of rage flickered to life. If something connected our nomadic lifestyle of waiting and wanting to the wasteful luxury of this house, why hadn’t we come sooner? If Mom knew they’d find us eventually, she could have contacted them.
Instead, she’d kept me on the road, barely surviving through harsh winters, close encounters with scary, armed homeless guys and even scarier, more heavily armed cops. I’d endured crazy flights of terror, nights of hunger when she hadn’t found a job that would pay cash under the table, and weeks without bathing. And all that time, these people had been looking for us. We could have lived in splendor all along.
“I just came to say best freaking wishes, Mom. Marry Neil and live crazily ever after.”
I spun on my heel and walked away. Just as I reached the door, a knock sounded. I flung it open, ready to snap at whoever was unfortunate enough to be on the other side. But I stopped short when I saw Rosa.
“It’s time, Ms. Olivia,” she said.
Mom joined us and took my hand, holding it in a firm grip, as if she were afraid I’d run away without her. She smiled at me despite my glare. “Soon, you will understand,” she said. “Today, accept your new family. This is where you belong. Where you always belonged. Now, you are one of them.”
My stomach kno
tted as we descended the stairs. Neil had gone ahead with the boys, and the house was quiet. That was, until Peyton came galloping down the stairs. “Don’t start without me,” she cried. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun. Just us girls, getting ready for a wedding. No big deal, am I right?”
We helped Mom into her dress, an elaborately beaded, champagne-colored, A-line gown with long sleeves. I couldn’t help but soften toward her. She needed me, and I was being selfish. I wanted to apologize, but I didn’t want to admit what a bitch I’d been in front of Peyton, the most accepting, cheerful teenager in existence.
Mom looked so out of place in the dress I almost had to laugh. Peyton did Mom’s hair while I applied minimal makeup. She looked little enough like herself as it was. I stood back from her, my throat constricting. Maybe she did look like herself. I was beginning to think I didn’t know my mother as well as I’d thought. I’d always considered us equals, teammates. Now, she shared secrets with someone else, making me feel like the child in our relationship. In a few short days, Neil had filled places in her heart I didn’t even know were empty. She had joined a second team—the adults.
“Time for us to get dressed,” Peyton said, taking my arm. A buzz went through me, but I barely noticed. I was getting used to the strange electrical charge these people had.
In the first-floor bathroom, I stood in front of the full-length mirror. I’d never been in a bathroom like this, but it explained the term restroom. The room was as big as the biggest storage locker we’d stayed in, about ten by twenty feet. In one end, there was the usual—a toilet, an inset tub and shower. The double marble sinks had a stretch of gleaming marble between them, on which fancy soaps shaped like bird nests with eggs in them looked so real I was afraid to actually use them and mess them up. The other end of the bathroom featured a soft rug on the floor and full-length mirrors on all three walls. Two plush chairs and a small table sat under soft, flattering lighting set recessed into the ceiling.
I didn’t understand it. Who would want to sit in a bathroom and chat with a friend? The whole thing just reminded me all over again that I didn’t understand this world, and therefore, didn’t belong. A week ago I would have thought about trying to escape out a window, but now…I was ready for this, whatever it was. So I pulled on my sheath dress with the wrap skirt, trying to keep my eyes away from the whorls of scarred skin on my stomach.
When I emerged from the bathroom, Peyton covered her mouth with both hands and squealed. Mom looked a little misty-eyed as she smiled at me.
“Who knew that was under all those generic jeans and hoodies?” Peyton said, bouncing over to me. “Now, let’s do your hair and makeup. Wait until my brothers see you. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”
She caught my mom’s startled expression and quickly added, “I mean, I’m sure you want to impress us, since we’re about to become family and everything.”
Peyton went to get her makeup, appearing a minute later with what appeared to be a small suitcase. She held it up and grinned, then skipped down to the bathroom. Inside, she opened her makeup case on the small table between the chairs. “Sit,” she said. “I can’t wait to put makeup on you. It’ll be like when I first got makeup. Mom took me to Boston and I got everything you can imagine, and then she let me practice on her.” She abruptly stopped speaking and began digging through the makeup, concentrating on lining up an assortment of items on the edge of the table.
After a long, awkward silence, I realized that maybe I should say something. That maybe she was expecting something from me. But what could I say to that? Anything I could say would sound pathetic.
Still, I knew she would have tried for me. What would she say if I told her about my dad?
“What was she like?” I asked at last. The moment I said it, I winced, remembering Xander sneering at me when I told Neil I was sorry about his wife.
Peyton shrugged, never looking up from the tubes and tubs and pallets as she spoke. “I know what I’m supposed to say. Peppy Peyton will say her mom was great, and tell some funny story. That’s what everyone expects me to say.”
“You’ve met my mother,” I said, gripping the arms of the chair. “There’s not much that can surprise me when it comes to moms.”
I kept my voice light, but for some reason, I wanted to get up and flee the bathroom. I hadn’t asked about their mother because it seemed insensitive, like I was comparing her to Mom. But maybe I didn’t really want to know, either. Their lives were so perfect. Maybe I didn’t want to hear about one more thing they’d had growing up that I hadn’t.
Or maybe I didn’t want to hear otherwise. There was something both appealing and sickening about their wealth and beauty, their perfection. Part of me didn’t want to see below the flawless surface reflection.
Peyton took a deep, shaky breath. “No, you’re right,” she said with a small laugh. “What am I complaining about? Mom really was great. It’s just the last few years, when she was sick, it was pretty hard. But at least I had her through the hard part, puberty and makeup and all that.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, but Peyton came around the table and sat down on the edge, her knees on either side of mine. The folds of our dresses fell together so I couldn’t tell which was hers and which was mine. My heartbeat ratcheted up a notch, and I swallowed nervously, surveying the pile of products she’d selected.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I picked good colors for you.”
That wasn’t what made me nervous, but I didn’t correct her. I’d never been alone with her. Suddenly, I was nervous.
“It’s brave of you to be so welcoming to my mom,” I said. “I don’t think all your brothers agree.”
“I want Dad to be happy.” She took my chin in her hand and raised my face toward hers. I dropped my gaze, aware of how intimately close we now were. “I’m going to dust some powder on first,” she murmured. “Close your eyes.”
Swallowing hard, I obeyed as her big soft brush began caressing my face. After dusting on powder, she dabbed blush on my cheeks and sat back. “Now I’m going to do your lips,” she said.
Her fingers gently lifted my chin again. My senses all increased, taking in the pressure of her knees around mine, the whisper of her breath as she leaned close, the faint scent of freesia around her. As the pencil touched my lips, so many nerve endings started firing that I could hardly breathe. A trembling moment passed before the pencil began to move slowly across my skin. Her warm fingers curled against my jawline, steadying themselves as the tip of the pencil traced my lips.
A flood of sensation filled me, starting at the sharp tip of the pencil, moving to the softness of her fingers on my chin, the brush of her skin against my throat as she moved her arm. It swept down my body, making goosebumps rise on my flesh and a warmth spread through my belly. As she swept creamy lipstick across my lips, I fought to keep myself from leaning into her touch, begging for more. My whole body was alive, tingling, wanting.
“Open your eyes,” Peyton murmured, her fingertips lingering on my skin.
My eyes snapped open as I remembered where I was. I was alone in a bathroom with Peyton, and my hormones must be going nuts, because all of a sudden, I had a random urge to lean forward and press my newly painted lips to hers. I shook my head, my heart racing. What the hell? Was this what happened when you grew up in isolation, only able to touch your mother? I was so desperate for human touch that now I was lusting after another girl.
“I’m just going to do a little bit of eyeshadow and a coat of mascara,” she whispered. “You’re so pretty you don’t need more.”
My face warmed as our eyes caught. Her gaze lingered on mine then slipped to my lips.
I swallowed hard.
Peyton sat back and turned to pick up the makeup, fumbling the eyeshadow in the process. The pallet clattered to the floor. I may not be able to read people, but I was sure she was feeling what I was. It wasn’t possible that I could feel so much without it spreading across the air between us an
d invading her body like a virus.
“Damn,” Peyton muttered, leaning down to snatch up the makeup. “Okay, close your eyes and stop messing with me.” She laughed nervously, then quickly swept a soft brush across my eyelids. Again, the sensation of her fingers on my face, touching the sensitive skin of my eyelids, sent tension coiling through my body.
When I opened my eyes this time, I tried to look anywhere but at her as she coated my lashes with mascara. My mind was whirling, my body buzzing. I was so confused I wanted to jump up and bolt from the bathroom. It was one thing to like being with her, to find her enthusiasm contagious, and another thing to feel like I was melting when she touched me. I’d almost accepted it with the guys. Anyone who’d never been around guys would go into overdrive when under the same roof as so many gorgeous ones at once. It was only natural to want them all. But I’d never wanted a girl before.
As soon as she finished, Peyton stood and held out a hand. “We should go.”
“Right. Totally.”
With a shy smile, she slipped her hand into mine and tugged me back toward the living room. A giddy laugh bubbled up inside me, sparkling like champagne. The comfort of her presence had melded with something else, something exciting and new. A secret. I’d never had a secret before.
I held onto her soft hand, never wanting to let go. The feeling coursing through me was too good. When Rosa told us a limo was waiting outside, I didn’t hesitate to follow Peyton out and slide inside with Mom. Whatever this was, I wanted to be part of it.
The ride passed in a blur. Peyton chattered the whole way, checked her makeup in a little mirror she had in her purse and fussed with Mom’s hair. In minutes, we were pulling into a large parking lot. Considering how cold it was, I was not surprised that there were only a handful of vehicles. When we stepped out, I heard the roar and crash of waves that was missing from the bay.
Emerge: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance Page 9