Unraveling Emily (Valla Series Book 1)

by Anna Rezes

  “Well, it’s better to keep him close. I wonder what he was thinking. Was his offer sincere? Did you check his thoughts?”

  I hesitate to answer, realizing I don’t know Patrick’s true intentions, but feeling his emotions during our kiss, I don’t think he plans to harm me.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Dad says, breaking the silence.

  “I don’t think he’ll hurt me. I’m pretty sure his offer was sincere, but Dad—”

  “Does Ben know what’s going on?”

  “No.” I close my eyes as guilt weighs on me.

  “Keep it that way. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’ll have to look at flight times, but I should be back by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. If you ever need something and you can’t reach me, call my office and Chris will take care of you.” With a worried sigh, he asks, “Where are you right now?”

  “At home.”

  “Make sure all the windows are locked, please.”

  His comment is unsettling. I can’t remember the last time I opened my windows and last night I made perfectly sure they were bolted shut. I walk away from my windows feeling like someone might be watching me.

  “The windows are fine, Dad,” I say, unwilling to make myself an easier target. I sneak up beside one of the windows and quickly pull the curtain closed.

  “Okay, I love you, Emily. I’ll call you in the morning. And just so you know, Olvasho usually have blue eyes and light hair. While the Isa and Leona bloodlines produce male and female offspring, the Valla bloodline is strictly female. Green eyes are a common trait for Valla lineage. I suppose your hair will begin to lighten now that your abilities have arrived.” He sighs. “I’ll make sure I don’t miss your next call.”

  I hang up and lean against my bedroom door pondering my newest discovery. I look at the ends of my dull blondish-brown hair. It’s a fraction lighter, but I blame that on the sun. I glare at my windows, feeling unsafe. I hate feeling vulnerable in my own home. I turn off the light and spin around to leave my room.

  I find Ben leaning against the back of the sofa. I slip my phone back into my pocket as I walk to him.

  “I’d rather not stay here tonight,” I whisper.

  “You don’t have to. You can stay with me.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “They have their own wing of the house. They won’t even know you’re there.”

  “You sure it’s okay?”

  “You go get your things. I’ll let Maggie out,” he says.

  Feeling safer knowing I won’t be staying here tonight, I flip on the light as I reenter my room. I head straight for my closet, unbuttoning my wet shirt on the way. I pull a dry one from its hanger as I let my shirt fall from my shoulders. I’m about to drop it in the hamper when I notice movement across the room. I spin to find a lean figure lying across my bed with his hands tucked casually under his head. I pull my shirt across my chest to cover my bra.

  “Patrick, what are you doing here?”

  “Admiring the view,” he says, unabashed.

  “Get out!”

  He moves to sit on the side of the bed untouched by my anger. “You’re beautiful, but I suppose you know that.” He stands and takes a few steps forward. “That boy can’t protect you, but I suppose you know that, too.” His words are bitter as he comes toe to toe with me. “I don’t understand why you’re angry with me. I’m the only one who seems to value your life what with your dad leaving you untrained and alone and you being careless in a moment of lust.”

  He reaches around me to pluck my phone from my back pocket. While he’s fidgeting with my phone, I attempt to pry into his mind to read his intentions. He shoots me an intrigued look, and when I fail to get in, he laughs at my failure.

  “You do a better job in your sleep,” he coos with delight. “You’re trying to force it. You have to let it come naturally, love.”

  “First you stalk me, then you break into my house, and now you’re giving me advice? I’m supposed to be this big, bad, ugly monster, but I can’t do a single thing right.”

  “I wasn’t stalking you. I wasn’t even nearby when out of nowhere your thoughts assaulted me. Tell me, love, why is it when you’re making out with someone else, your thoughts reach for me?”

  “You’re a liar!”

  “Am I?”

  I take a deep breath to rein in my anger. “How far away do I have to be for my thoughts to be my own?”

  A smile crawls across his face. “You don’t want my answer.”

  “Patrick!”

  “Thirty feet is my normal reach to get into someone’s mind. Apparently, your reach far exceeds my own. It’s probably a Valla thing.” He hands me my phone and leans forward. “Go ahead, ask me. Ask me where I was.”

  “I’m not playing this game, Patrick.”

  “Twenty miles, Emily! I was at my uncle’s when you reached for me.”

  I don’t know whether or not to believe him. “I never reached for you, Patrick. You weren’t even a whisper in my subconscious and that kills you, doesn’t it?”

  “What kills me is watching you make a fool out of yourself. At some point, you’re going to realize your boyfriend and your dad can’t help you. Call me. I won’t be far, but in the meantime keep your thoughts to yourself.” He looks toward the door right before Ben walks around the corner.

  Patrick is standing too close to me while I hold my shirt across my chest. Ben’s look of confusion turns to anger. He stands a little taller, making his already broad shoulders more daunting. Patrick is unaffected and leans in to kiss my cheek. Furious, I want to slap him, but he’s to the door before I can pull my thoughts together. Watching me closely, Ben parks a hand on Patrick’s chest halting him from leaving. It would intimidate anyone else, but Patrick just cocks an eyebrow.

  “Em?” Ben questions, as he stands toe to toe with Patrick.

  “Patrick,” I say into his mind. “I’m not a monster.”

  “It’s not me you need to convince,” he responds into my thoughts. “But you’re a Valla. You’ll never be safe, especially when you’re being . . .”his eyes flick to Ben, “careless.”

  His tone is cold as he speaks aloud, “When you change your mind, you have my number.”

  Ben is fuming as he blocks Patrick’s way.

  “Let him go,” I say, avoiding the potential fight.

  Patrick snickers. Ben gives me an incredulous look but reluctantly moves to the side.

  “As if he had a choice,” Patrick says, voice full of arrogance as he walks out.

  I feel Ben’s disapproval, but I don’t want to know what he’s thinking right now.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “Do you want me to give you a minute to change?”

  I nod again, so he closes the door behind him. I throw on a new shirt before packing a few things in a bag and heading out to meet Ben. I say goodbye to Maggie and we’re out the door.

  Once we’re back in Ben’s car, he asks, “What the hell was that?”

  “What, Patrick?”

  “Yeah Patrick. What’s with Patrick? How did he . . . when did he—why was he at your house?”

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t have any boundaries.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” he offers, sounding more than a little eager.

  “No, I’m sure Morgan wouldn’t like that.”

  “Morgan thinks something is going on between you and Patrick, and I can see why.”

  “What?”

  “Well, what was that back there?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated my ass! Something is off about him,” he spits, barely containing his anger.

  “Ben, please, can we not talk about this right now. I’m exhausted and just want this day to end.”

  He falls silent with a frustrated sigh.

  We pull into Ben’s gigantic garage a few minutes later. I’m still worried we’ll run into Ben’s parents, but instead of walking through th
e stadium size foyer, we go down a simple spiral staircase. Once we reach the bottom, we walk down a hallway lined with closed doors and take one that leads into the family room outside of Ben’s bedroom. We enter his room without seeing anyone. I set my bag down on the floor as he closes the door.

  I’m instantly nervous. I know our relationship has changed, but I don’t know where to go from here. I feel completely drained from the day and suppress the urge to cry.

  “You never told me what was wrong,” Ben says, cocooning my face in his hands.

  I’m relieved he left his anger in the car. “Can we talk about it in the morning? I’m exhausted.”

  “In the morning then,” he agrees, pulling me into his chest where I willingly surrender. He guides us toward the bed. Our eyes lock and I’m faced with the intensity of his desire. It’s more than just his look; it’s an aura surrounding him. I remind myself the closer I get to him, the more it’s going to hurt when it all falls apart, but as he leans in for a kiss, I quickly abandon my logic.

  We collapse onto his king-sized bed. Hands frantic with impatience, we race to undress each other breathless with desire when we are interrupted by a knock on the door.

  “Damn it,” Ben breathes, as we gather ourselves and straighten our clothing.

  “Should I hide?” I whisper, smoothing my wayward hair.

  He grins before going to his door. “No, just stay there.”

  As soon as Ben turns the knob, the door flies open, and he stumbles back. Max, the oversized puppy, bounds through the door eager for my attention. I rub his head as saliva dribbles from his mouth.

  A teenage girl with dark ringlet curls hanging past her shoulders stands in the doorway. I recognize Ben’s fifteen-year-old sister, Molly, from her photos. She’s petite and shares Ben’s beautiful tan skin and big chocolate colored eyes, but Ben has never given me the cold glare she’s sending me now. She crosses her arms and tilts her hip, openly appraising me. I feel insulted and self-conscious. Ben pulls Molly into the room and shuts the door behind her.

  “What do you want?” Ben says with irritation.

  She looks insulted by his tone. “I don’t know,” she huffs. “Max was going crazy. I thought he needed to go outside, but he ran to your room.” She looks back at me. “Maybe because you have company,” she says in a snobby voice. “So, what’s she doing here?” she asks as if I’m not right in front of her. “Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?”

  “Emily is staying here tonight,” he says.

  She continues to glare at me like I’m something disgusting she found on her shoe. “Is she really worth it?”

  “Molly!” Ben scolds.

  I look to Max who is drooling and wagging his tail oblivious to the confrontation.

  “Just sayin’, how many times does she have to screw you over before you get it?”

  “Get out!” Ben demands, opening the door for her.

  She looks shocked. “Somebody has to look out for you,” she tells him.

  “Get. Out.”

  “Whatever, I still think you’re better off with Natalia. Max!” she calls, but the dog doesn’t move from my side. Molly glares at me as if it’s my fault.

  “Come!” she demands, but the dog doesn’t budge.

  “Go,” I whisper, and the dog turns to follow her.

  Ben closes the door and comes to sit next to me on the bed. “Sorry, my sister is kind of a bitch.”

  “She’s a fifteen-year-old girl who’s trying to look out for her brother,” I say, brushing it off.

  “I don’t need my little sister looking out for me.” He leans into me playfully.

  I sigh, “Everybody needs somebody. Anyway, I really need to get some sleep. I’m supposed to work tomorrow. Where should I sleep?”

  He looks puzzled and says, “The bed.” He must sense my reluctance, because he adds, “I’ll sleep on the couch.” He motions to the opposite side of the room.

  “I doubt you’ll fit; besides, I’m not taking your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” I grab my bag and walk into the luxurious bathroom. “I’m off to the spa.”

  He gives me a weak laugh as I close the door between us, feeling second-rate. As Molly so eloquently pointed out I’ve complicated Ben’s life. With girls lining up to be with him, I feel stupid for not realizing there might be someone else, someone better.

  When I come out of the bathroom, I’m ready for bed in my t-shirt and shorts. Ben has the sofa pulled out into a bed. He’s changed too, although, stripped is more accurate. He’s wearing only gym shorts and I can’t help but smile.

  Catching my smile, he says, “I usually sleep naked, but I figured that wasn’t an option.”

  “Sorry to put you out.”

  He keeps his distance from me while I move to the sofa bed. I lift the covers and slide between the sheets. I expected to feel the bars going through my back like other pullout mattresses, but it feels like a real bed, comfier than my own. Maybe money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can buy comfort.

  Ben is watching with a curious grin from across the room. “I’ll turn the lights off so you can sleep,” he says, and a second later the room is dark, apart from the glow from the open bathroom. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

  I nod, unsure if he can see me.

  Darkness floods the room as he closes the door between us. I burrow into the blankets, close my eyes, and allow my mind to wander. I worry about Dad’s trip, Patrick’s accusations, and I’m nervous about work tomorrow. Will it be just another day, or will it be the day they find me?

  By the time Ben comes out of the bathroom, I have myself so worked up; sleep is the last thing on my mind. He leaves the door cracked, providing a dim light to permeate the room. Ben climbs in his bed and I realize I should’ve stayed home. At least then I wouldn’t be putting him in danger.

  When I finally start to doze off, I see my mom’s face with the trickle of blood dripping from her lips. My eyes fly open and once again sleep is a million miles away. The clock on Ben’s nightstand tells me it’s already two o’clock in the morning. I stare up at the dark ceiling as a few of the stupid commercial jingles pop into my head. At first, they remind me of Patrick, but soon I’m thinking of Ben. He was my secret weapon against Patrick. Maybe I wasn’t so blind to him over the years. Perhaps these feelings were there the whole time. I used self-preservation as a shield to protect my already ravaged heart against everyone, including Ben.

  “Ben?” I whisper into the silence.

  “Yeah?”

  “Patrick is just a friend,” I say, wondering if I can qualify him as a friend.

  “I know,” he sighs.

  It’s silent for a while and I wonder if he’s sleeping.

  “Ignore Molly. She is a brat.”

  “A brat that’s looking out for you.”

  “So she thinks.”

  “So, who’s Natalia?” I ask.

  “Nobody. I thought you were tired.”

  “I was.”

  “And now?” he probes.

  “I have too much going through my head.”

  “You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  Silence ensues, so I go back to thinking about the commercial that Ben and I made fun of before everything changed. I remember laughing so hard my stomach hurt. I missed him so much while he was gone. Now he lies just a short distance away and I still miss him.

  “Ben?” I whisper.

  “Yeah?”

  “Never mind,” I mumble, chickening out.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, it’s stupid.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “Umm, would you . . . Uh . . . mind if I uh, come lie with you?”

  There’s a brief pause before he says, “Of course not. Come over here.”

  I shuffle across the plush carpet. He lifts the comforter and I slip into bed beside him. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his warmth, and I let myself enjoy the solace of his touch. I
bury my face in his chest feeling small in his big arms. Exhaustion washes over me as his fingers glide up and down my spine. It’s soothing and the last thing I remember before drifting into a deep sleep.

  nineteen

  I have a vivid dream where I walk my pet panther on a leash like a dog. I can’t understand why people are afraid. It’s just a sweet little kitten until I realize it’s not and the beast breaks its chain and pounces on a young girl with light brown hair. The panther disappears as a classroom manifests around us.

  I find the girl unharmed and huddled in a ball on the floor. I comfort her, but when the girl looks up at me, I’m shocked to see my own face on the frightened younger version of myself.

  Realizing I’m not seeing from my own eyes, I look to my hands, my arms, and down my body. I’m a boy, but not just any boy. I’m seeing from Ben’s perspective. He was there when I collapsed in seventh grade. Ben watches the younger version of myself lying helpless on the floor. Commotion rises around him and Ben tells his neighbor to shut up. He stares at young Emily until she looks up at him with her pale green eyes. She cries out in excruciating pain, and Ben wants to help but doesn’t know how.

  The teacher covers part of his view before looking up at him, “Benjamin! Go get Mrs. Henson from next door!”

  Not wasting time, he rushes through the crowd, pushing other students out of his way. He darts into the hall and barrels through the door into Mrs. Henson’s classroom.

  The classroom disappears and time skips forward. The paramedics roll twelve-year-old Emily out on a stretcher. Feeling anxious and worried, Ben lingers in the entrance wanting to follow the men wheeling her away.

  Time passes until Ben stands outside in the cold breeze watching the ambulance at the curb. He hurts for the girl in the back of the vehicle. He watches tears flow down Emily’s cheeks as she sits in the ambulance with the paramedics. When she notices Ben, she wipes the tears away, failing to look anything but miserable. The teacher puts her hand on Ben’s shoulder and guides him back inside.

  While sitting in class, Ben hears a rumor that Emily was released to the school nurse instead of being taken to the hospital. Asking permission to go to the restroom, he grabs the hall pass on his way out of class. A white door appears in front of Ben. He’s nervous about opening it, and when he finally does, he finds Emily sitting in the nurse’s office. She’s holding her head down in her hands, her hair hiding her face. She looks up startled as she hears Ben’s shoe scuff the floor.