“You okay there, featherweight?” She grinned.
He eyed her, a look of supreme disgust curling his lips. “I think I might have eaten one bag of candy too many. You ready to head home?”
It took a while, but they finally made it out to the parking lot. The second the breeze hit them, Abel looked marginally better. He was still holding his stomach, but he didn’t look so green around the gills anymore.
Starting to get worried for him, Flint touched his shoulder. “You sure you okay? You’re looking as white as a ghost.”
Abel leaned against the brick wall, taking in huge gulps of air. He planted his hands on his knees and bent over.
“Umm, Abel, are you getting ready to yack? Should I get water or something?” She rubbed his back, thinking maybe it was more than just too much candy. And when she touched his forehead, she knew it was. He was clammy.
“No.” He shook her away. “Been feeling like this the past few days, it’ll pass. Just give me a sec.”
Flint glanced up at the sky that suddenly looked to be frothing and churning with gathering storm clouds. A hard wind was driving in from the east, whipping her hair into her face. She wasn’t exactly superstitious, but it felt like a bad omen.
He was still breathing hard, huffing air through his open mouth, and when she rubbed his back again, she swore she felt his muscles slide.
And not just scrawny Abel muscles, it felt like thick cords of rope moving beneath her palm. “Abel, should I call Adam?”
He shook his head.
“Your… Cain?”
He glared at her, and she inhaled when she saw the size of his pupils—they were huge.
“Stop, Flint. Just give me a sec.”
His voice was thicker, gruffer, and she wrapped her arms around herself.
Tires screeched to a stop in front of them and her heart sank. Cain’s black Corvette rumbled in front of them.
“Did you call him?” Abel growled.
She shook her head. “I don’t even have his number.”
Cain shot out of the car, looking as frightening as a grizzly about to attack. “Where did you go?” he snarled, and he wasn’t looking at Abel.
“I…” Flint glanced at Abel, then back at Cain, brows dropping in confusion. “Excuse me?”
He made a grab for her elbow, which she found extremely annoying, and she sidestepped. “Hey, hands off! And why do you care?” she snapped back at him, finally finding her tongue.
“Do you have any idea how many places I had to search before I found you?” His voice was deep, really deep. Growly. And his arms, jeez, they were freaking ginormous. Like two flexing pythons.
All of which should have terrified her, but instead it only made her stomach swirl with knots.
She hated her body’s reaction to him. Her brain screamed, “Neanderthal, run away,” while her body yelled, “Must have, must have….” It was really rather pathetic, which pissed her off.
“You’re not my boyfriend, Cain. You’re not my anything, so why do you care?” She narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t care, princess.” He said it so cold that she flinched. “But I’m pretty sure Frank does.”
“Dad?” Her mouth dropped open, the sensation of a stone ripping through her gut made her grimace. “He knows?”
He ignored her.
Glancing at Abel, Cain snarled. “She’s coming with me. You follow. Adam’s not happy.”
Abel’s shoulders slumped and he nodded.
“Wait, I should go with him. Abel’s not well, or better yet”—she planted her hands on her hips—“he should go with you. I can take the ATV back.”
Shaking his head, Cain sauntered back to the car, saying louder than words that the conversation was over.
“Abel?” Flint looked at him. He looked fine now. His eyes were a little bloodshot, but nothing major. “You gonna live?”
He ran his long fingers through his blunt brown hair. “Yeah. Maybe not for long though. I’m sorry, Flint. But you should go. Cain’s not the most patient one among us.”
He jerked his chin, and when she looked over it was to see Cain drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, a mutinous expression twisting his lips.
“I don’t know why I can’t just ride with you,” she mumbled but headed to the Corvette.
The second she was in her seat, Cain was peeling out.
“How did you find us?” she blurted, refusing to cower to him, even though his frosty demeanor made her want to blast the heater to high. “We snuck out. The school shouldn’t have called anyway, I checked in this morning and…”
“Flint.” Cain looked at her, ripping his sunglasses off. And again she was stunned by the glass-like blue of his eyes. His jaw was clenched hard and she sensed he wanted to say more, but with a firm shake of his head, he turned back to the road.
Hiking her feet up on the chair, she tucked her hands under her thighs, not terribly concerned if she got dirt on his precious car. This sucked. Major.
“Why didn’t my dad come get me?”
Trees passed in a blur. She really didn’t have a clue where they were, but it didn’t seem like he was driving toward the circus. The mall wasn’t that far from the school or the fairgrounds. She glanced out the window at the towering spires of trees.
His woodsy scent wrapped around her nose. She swallowed hard.
“He wouldn’t have been able to find you,” he finally said, his voice still deep and resonant and making her belly quiver tight with nerves.
“So how did you?” she asked quietly.
He looked at her and she thought he wouldn’t answer, but he did. “I smelled you out.” Cain turned back to the road.
Clearly he was joking, which whatever, if he didn’t want to tell her, fine. She crossed her arms.
“Your father came to Adam for help. He looked for you guys for over an hour, but he’s new to the town and doesn’t know my brother the way I do.”
Offering up information without her first prying it out of him? Would wonders never cease? She dropped her arms. Cain turned on the blinker and then turned to the left. It was light out and the world looked so much different than it had the other time they’d been here with the storm and the clouds, but the broken trees gave it away. He was headed toward his bunker.
“Why are you bringing me here? Is my dad here?”
He didn’t say anything, just kept driving. In no time, she spied the top of the wooden bunker and her heart flipped as she remembered him shirtless.
The car rolled to a stop, then he jumped out and leaned against the car, tipping his face up to the sky. Flint sat in the car, not sure what exactly to do. He was acting weird. And more than just moody, he was acting like he’d actually been worried.
The longer he stood out there, not moving, just leaning against the car, the worse she began to feel. Fingers grown cold with the beginnings of shame, she got out of the car and walked around to join him.
He didn’t glance at her—his eyes were closed and she took the opportunity to really study him. Cain was so much bigger than the average guys at her school. His taut throat was tipped up toward the sky, his Adam’s apple rolled as he swallowed, a five-o’clock shadow dusted his strong square jaw.
Flint nibbled on the corner of her lip. “Look I’m sorry if I made you worry about Abel. It was stupid and irresponsible of me. He hadn’t been feeling well, and neither was I—”
Cain looked at her then. “What’s going on?” His tone was so much softer than she’d expected, no longer hard and growly.
What should she say? Thinking about it now, it all sounded pretty stupid. She hated her dad’s new girlfriend, school was driving her nuts, Rhiannon might be a killing shadow thingy, there were way too many people in this town with red, freaky eyes—including the boy she couldn’t seem to stop obsessing about. She was pretty sure she’d seen someone die last night.
But had she really, because when she’d walked past the blacktop there’d been nothing. No clothes, no tee
th, no arms, skin, or blood. Just nothing. Rhiannon and Janet had laughed and talked like they didn’t have a care in the world and… ugh.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I’m not really sure what’s wrong with your brother. He needed a time-out and so did I.”
He shook his head and a lock of black hair fell into his eye. Flint didn’t even think, simply reacted, and standing on her tiptoes, she brushed it back, then froze when she realized what she’d done.
Expecting him to snarl or growl, or heck… bite her finger off. She didn’t know. He wasn’t exactly a Boy Scout.
But he didn’t do any of those things. Instead, he grabbed her hand and, just like last time, traced the pad of her thumb with his. The contact of his hot skin on hers made her lashes flutter and her knees shake.
“I know what’s going on with Abel,” he murmured.
“Oh,” she breathed, realizing he’d been asking about her after all. Why did he want to know about her? What did it mean? Probably nothing? This was the same Cain who’d turned her into a laughingstock at school. He liked to tease her, got off on it for some reason. But even knowing that, she couldn’t compel herself to pull her hand away. His touch felt good.
Too good.
Dangerous.
Then he shoved his hands into his pockets and she wanted to pout, feeling strangely desolate without it.
“Come on, I’ve got to take you to the circus. Frank is waiting for you.”
She gave a shaky laugh and hugged her arms. “I’m probably going to be grounded until I turn twenty-one.”
He twisted his lips and her eyes zoomed in, wondering what it might feel like if he ever kissed her. Really kissed her. The thought alone make her skin tingle and itch.
“He’s pissed.” Then he was peering at her with his hypnotic blue eyes. “Are you okay? Is anything bothering you at school?”
She was in serious danger of crying, but she wasn’t even sure why. Other than the fact that he was being so nice to her and she couldn’t explain it, but it was just what she needed. Whatever was going on in her world right now, being around Cain made it feel like it had all disappeared.
She couldn’t forget his eyes that night when he’d caught her, a deep glowing red, and yet she didn’t fear whatever that meant. She knew she should. But when he was looking at her like he was right now, and touching her, and acting like he cared, she just couldn’t.
“There’s a girl—”
“Bloodshot eyes, short black hair?”
Actually, Flint had been getting ready to talk about Rhiannon—she’d forgotten all about what’s her name, but she nodded anyway. “Yeah, she stares at me a lot.”
He frowned and then quickly looked down. “Stay away from her, princess. From all of them.”
She looked at his boots. Jeez, he looked nice today. She was so used to seeing him wear only black that to see him wear any other color, even if it was dark brown, made her heart go pitter-patter.
“I will.” He didn’t need to tell her twice; she had no intention of befriending them.
Cain took a deep breath, then looked back at her. “Promise?”
“Cain, why do you care so much?” She hadn’t meant to ask that, but he was acting so weird.
He drew up straight and when he did, he was so close she felt the heat of his body wash against her own. She sucked in a sharp breath when his hands rested casually against her hips. He was staring at her intensely, and she couldn’t have looked away even if her life depended on it.
He was working his jaw again. But if she hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn she was on fire at the point where his hands were touching her. His fingers found their way underneath her shirt, right above her hipbones. His featherlight touch felt more like a weighty caress, and she was unbelievably aware of each and every twitch of his fingers.
To the point that she had to remind herself to keep breathing.
Then he started to lean in, and she didn’t know what to do. What not to do. Panicked, she bunched her fists in the front of his dove-gray shirt and waited.
But he didn’t kiss her, he was running his nose along the top of her head, and she could swear she felt his body trembling.
“You always smell so good,” he murmured.
“I… do?” Her heart was spinning out of control, her pulse rushing so fast she heard it in her ears. How weird, because she always thought that about him. “So do you,” she whispered shyly. “Like the woods.”
He nodded and his big hand slid slowly up the back of her shirt, almost but not quite reaching the edge of her bra. His palm pressed flat and tight to her body. Not that she didn’t like this.
Because she did.
She loved it.
But he wasn’t acting like the Cain she knew. “Cain?” His name trembled on her lips.
He took a final deep breath, and then she felt that invisible barrier slam up between them again. Cain went rigid as he slipped his hands away from her.
It was the worst feeling in the world to have him pull away like that. She hated the Cain from school, but this Cain, the one outside, she really wished she could get to know him better.
“Come on, princess.” He jerked his head and opened his car door.
Her body was alive, quivering, her thigh muscles twitching. How did he do that? Just walk away like nothing had happened? Like the ground hadn’t shaken beneath their feet for a moment?
Humiliated, she gathered whatever shred of dignity she still had left and got back in the car. The rest of the trip back was made in complete silence. When he pulled into the fairgrounds, Cain parked and then gestured toward Adam’s trailer.
“Frank’s in there.” Then he got out and left her alone, the key still swinging in the ignition.
She wasn’t sure whether he planned to go back out or not, but turned the car off just in case. Feeling more miserable than she had this morning, Flint headed toward the trailer.
Stomach queasy and throat working hard to swallow her tears, she walked up to the door. Not once when her dad had been drinking had she ever done something so stupid. She wasn’t normally like this. Making people worry about her. Especially her dad. The last thing she wanted was to drive him back to the bottle.
Miserable, she didn’t even bother knocking; she just opened the door, ready to take whatever he dished out.
But he wasn’t inside. In fact, no one was.
The lights were off.
Glancing back outside, she looked for him. But as was usual in this weird place, there wasn’t anyone walking around. They were all still asleep, or maybe practicing.
Deciding to go find him herself, she had walked back out and was headed toward the main tent when she spotted Abel’s borrowed ATV from the corner of her eye and veered in that direction. Maybe he’d know. But when she neared the trailer closest to the shed, she was blasted by the sound of a shrill voice.
“Abel Luke, I don’t care—you are never allowed to leave school grounds like that. And taking that girl! Are you insane?”
Flint bit the corner of her lip. Probably his mom, which meant she should definitely not interfere. She turned to go.
“You must be Flint.” The same shrill voice stopped her in her tracks. Grimacing, she turned, ready to apologize profusely when she caught sight of the woman, only now remembering what Abel had told her about his mom and her disfigurement.
A thick mane of black hair covered almost the entire half of the woman’s pinkened skin. But it was obvious even from a distance that she was a scarred and ruined mess. Her lips on the left side of her face looked to be in a perpetual frown and melted downward. A tight framework of scarring webbed the pieces of skin not covered by hair. The other half of her face was firm and smooth, and that side was exotically beautiful. A large blue eye stared back at her, obviously aware that Flint was staring and giving her an opportunity to look her fill.
Flint had grown up in circuses, she’d seen and been around so-called freaks all her life. So instead of acting like sh
e hadn’t seen it or embarrassing Abel’s mom by stuttering an apology, she smiled and nodded. “That’s me.”
A brief flash of awareness flashed through the woman’s good eye. “Adam took Frank to the tent to work some of the fire out of him. Hot Italian temper and all that.”
Her voice was softer now, more twangy. She had a natural Kentucky drawl in her speech. Abel’s mom leaned against the doorframe. She was dressed in jeans and a plain white shirt, her feet bare. She didn’t at all seem shy, but rather self-possessed. “Why don’t you come inside and wait with me, Flint? I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”
Flint wasn’t sure what to expect, so she entered in hesitantly.
“Come on, come on.” Abel’s mom waved her hand. “Don’t be shy.”
But being so close to her now made the rest of her body come into exacting focus. The entire left side of her body looked like melted wax that had rehardened. Generally people who were disfigured tended to become reclusive and antisocial, or so said all the books she’d read. A la The Phantom of the Opera.
Even Abel had mentioned she didn’t do crowds or scenes, so honestly what she saw was not at all what she’d expected. The trailer was tastefully furnished. A small table and two chairs were by the kitchen, stained-glass sculptures hung in the window, and there was a white sofa and a massive worktable full of beakers and vials.
Her eyes were drawn to the murky green flame spiraling from the top of a Bunsen burner.
“Excuse the mess.” She wiped her hands off and held out her left one to Flint. “Name’s Layla.”
Flint took her hand, surprised by the soft yet firm texture of the ruined flesh.
“And yes, before you ask, I was named after the song.”
Her smile was friendly, full of straight white teeth.
“Song?”
“You know.” Abel played some air guitar. “Clapton?”
“Umm.” Flint gave him a confused look. “Should I?”
“You young man, are in big trouble. How about you go to the back room and work on your classwork that you decided was such a good idea to ditch on today…”
“How did you—” Abel’s brown eyes grew wide.
The Complete Tempted Series Page 15