“I’m not groping you. It’s called dancing. Let me show you.”
He grabbed me again, pulling one hand tightly around my waist and bringing his face within inches of mine.
I glared at him and twisted my lips together. I glanced over at the table again but Clare was oblivious. Great, I thought, she’ll never stop talking. Mike ran his hand up my waist and I reached down to cut him off while I balled my other hand into a fist. Obviously, this guy wasn’t taking the hint.
Suddenly, I felt a tall presence standing next to me. Mike looked up at Justin and froze.
“I don’t think you’re getting the hint,” Justin said, staring Mike down with dark eyes that stated there was no room to argue.
I looked back at Mike and felt his hands loosen around me.
“I’m cutting in,” Justin stated.
“Why don’t we let her decide that?” he retorted, but his voice sounded unsteady.
It didn’t take me a second to make up my mind as I uncoiled myself from Mike’s grasp. He snickered and shoved his way through the crowd. I watched him disappear just as the song playing came to an end. The crowd turned to clap and I glanced at Justin. His eyes were on the band but they were angry and his body was tense. The band transitioned into the next song, which had a slow beat.
Couples paired up around us, gathering close in each other’s arms. The singer belted out low, sultry lyrics that I recognized from an old classic: You’d better please hear my cry, and let your arrow fly. I turned to face Justin and couldn’t help but grin. He knew what he got himself into. People around us melted against each other and I waited for him to make a move. He looked over at me. He didn’t have to ask what I wanted. I stood my ground stubbornly and he knew.
He let out a deep breath of defeat and took a step closer to me. He slid one arm slowly around my waist and with his free hand he hesitated. His eyes warned me not to read too much into this. He placed his other hand over mine and interlocked our fingers.
He took another step closer to me. I had to consciously remind myself to move my feet to the music. I stared at his eyes, drinking them in. They were closer to me than ever before and so dark I could see shades of light reflecting off of them.
The music simmered the air around us. You’d better draw back your bow, and let your arrow flow. I lightly pressed my fingers against his hand like I was memorizing the feeling of skin, as if this was the first and last time we’d ever touch. It was difficult to move my legs with so many waves of electricity shooting through my body with both of his hands on me. It was my greatest fantasy coming to life, except that my dance partner looked slightly less enthused.
Justin wouldn’t meet my gaze. He looked over my shoulder or at the band, but never directly at me. There was a crease between his eyes like he was frustrated. He held his chest straight and his head high while we danced as if to show people we weren’t together, just friends, no feelings attached. I, on the other hand, sank closer toward him like my bones were made of wax and they were melting in his presence.
Since he was so determined to avoid me, I took the chance to stare at every feature on his face. The way his deep eyes caught the light. How soft his lips looked. His messy hair that was teasing me to run my hands through it. I could feel my breath start to come out shaky. I wanted Justin more than I had ever wanted anything. And if I couldn’t tell him, maybe I could show him.
He moved his hand lower on my waist. With any subtle movement he made, my heart responded by drumming in my chest. He kept his face a safe distance from mine, despite the closeness of our bodies.
“You cause trouble wherever you go, don’t you?” he asked me.
“Clubs should hand out ‘Sorry, Not Interested’ cards for those kinds of situations,” I said.
His lip twitched slightly. “You could just be honest with people, you know.”
He looked down at our hands for a moment, locked together, and finally, his eyes met mine. They were careful, like shields were up behind them.
“I didn’t expect you to be here,” I said.
“Is it so bad to see me?” he asked. “I thought we were friends.”
“You told me you couldn’t be my friend,” I reminded him.
“Maybe I was wrong,” he said, and slid his hand a little lower on my waist. “So, is this a truce?”
I didn’t answer. I decided to show him instead. I moved closer until our chests touched. Maybe it was the power of the music that gave me confidence, or maybe I had given up on trying to act like Justin didn’t mean anything to me. He reacted exactly as I expected. His back shot straight up and his body went rigid as he tried to keep his distance.
“Thanks for getting rid of that guy,” I said, and leaned my head toward his neck while I talked. I was trying to be sexy, which I had never attempted before. I had no idea if it was working.
He tightened his lips. “I was just trying to help you out, Maddie,” he said flatly.
“I was about to slap him,” I said, and grinned. He wrinkled his eyebrows at this. I couldn’t tell if it was from my comment, my closeness, or both.
“I took a self-defense class,” I added.
He raised an eyebrow. The gesture only made him sexier.
“Online? What did you learn, push the up and down arrow keys really fast to get away?”
Instead of arguing with him, I dropped my hand out of his. I moved my arms up around his neck until they rested at the base of his hair. I could feel his chest expand against mine.
I cocked my head to the side. “Does this bother you?” I asked innocently. I kept my gaze steady on his. I knew my dad’s eyes were capable of getting what they wanted. Maybe I could experiment tonight.
I twirled my fingers through the soft ends of his hair. He narrowed his eyes at me. He knew exactly what I was doing.
“I’m just trying to use all these nerve endings,” I said, and let my fingertips play. My skin was burning. “Isn’t that what I’m designed to do?”
Our faces were just inches apart. His eyes glared down at me but didn’t lean away this time. Then, he surprised me. He looked right at my lips. For a second I thought he was going to kiss me. I could feel his heart beat through his T-shirt and I know he could feel mine. He slowly traced one of his hands up my arm to my shoulder. He hesitantly allowed his fingers to move through my hair, to my chin, and he lightly brushed my cheek. My stomach kicked so hard it made my breath catch in my chest. I could feel my knees starting to shake.
I watched a world of thought being processed behind his eyes. He slowly scanned my face as if he had never allowed himself to fully notice me. As if he was memorizing my features.
Too soon, the song ended and he dropped his hands from my waist. I felt the muscles in his neck tighten and I reluctantly dropped my hands. I slid them down his warm chest and he took a step back. The crowd around us applauded the band but the sound felt worlds away. Justin backed up a full step. Questions multiplied in my head. Do you like me at all? Do you hate me? Why can’t you let anyone care about you?
A faster beat filled the room and couples separated on the floor.
He ran a hand through his hair and turned to me. His face was flushed. “I don’t really dance,” he said.
I stared at him. People moved in circles around us, music blared, and all I could feel was my heart screaming in my chest, all I could see was light reflecting in his eyes.
“I’ll see you around,” he said quickly. “Try to stay out of trouble.”
I watched him go with frustration. I wanted to scream after him as the light and energy that made my world glow evaporated out of the room as the door swung shut behind him.
Chapter Fourteen
I expected the house to be dark when I got home and was surprised to see so many lights on in the downstairs windows. Baley greeted me at the door and I paused when I heard voices in the living room. Deep voices. My intuition kicked in and a cold chill crept over me. My dad called my name as I shut the door behind me.
&nb
sp; Goose bumps rose up on my arms as I headed into the living room and I stopped abruptly in the doorway. Paul and Damon Thompson were inside, talking to my mom and dad. They all fell quiet when they saw me. All the wall screens in the house were turned off. There wasn’t a single noise, only loud silence. Even my mother’s face was sullen.
I was in trouble.
“Where have you been?” Dad asked. He sat next to my mom on the couch.
“I went out with Clare,” I said, and managed to keep my voice steady.
“I didn’t ask who you were with, I asked where you were,” he repeated.
I studied each face and tried to guess what I did wrong tonight. Leaving the house wasn’t against my probation terms. I took a deep breath to keep calm.
“Clare’s brother Noah is in a band and we went downtown to watch it,” I said plainly. “I don’t think the club has a name, it’s just on the Westside.”
Damon crossed his arms. “Noah and Clare Powell? These are your daughter’s friends?” he asked in my father’s direction with a patronizing tone. I pressed my hands against my hips.
“I think I’m old enough to choose my friends, Damon. I don’t need a babysitter.”
My dad stood up from the couch. “Watch your mouth,” he said. “I demand respect in this house.”
“You mean control?” I said.
“When you’re on your own, you can choose your friends,” he said.
I threw my hands up in the air. “Dad, I’m almost eighteen. What’s the difference? Am I going to wake up when I turn eighteen and magically make all the right decisions?”
“Not according to your track record,” he retorted.
Paul interjected, “We’re just looking out for you, Madeline.”
“Well, you don’t need to,” I snapped back at him. “I’m fine. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I’m meeting people that I actually want to spend time with, so don’t worry about me.”
My dad interrupted us. “Madeline, Damon came over tonight to discuss some options for you.”
I creased my eyebrows. “Options?”
My dad nodded. “It seems that having you on probation hasn’t been a serious enough consequence.” He paused for a moment and met my eyes. “We have no other choice.”
I stared between my dad and Damon.
“They’re sending you to a detention center, Maddie,” my mom said, her voice uneven. “In Iowa.”
“Iowa?”
“You’ll be disciplined there,” Dad added. “Something your mother and I haven’t adequately been able to do with you.”
I looked from my dad to my mom and saw her lips were pressed together firmly. She looked dazed as she listened to my father.
“Is anybody going to tell me what I did wrong?” I glared at my dad. “This is insane.”
His eyes were livid. “What’s insane is my daughter has pulled a three-sixty ever since she’s been interacting with a certain Justin Solvi.”
“Dad—”
“And you broke your parole assisting him in the escape of a young man being held in custody in Toledo. A young man who broke the law and should suffer the consequences. He belonged in a detention center. People have to pay for their mistakes.”
I stared at my father in shock. “I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”
He shook his head. “DNA testing is a great way to solve these kinds of mysteries, Maddie, although I am grateful your leg healed up okay,” he said and nodded at my scar.
I gulped and my throat felt tight.
“We heard from the police today. When your mom could testify that Justin came over and picked you up that night in the same car the police saw you three drive off in, after you gashed your leg on an exposed drainage pipe, well, they didn’t need much proof beyond that.”
I looked over at my mom. She refused to meet my eyes, her face unreadable.
My voice trembled when I spoke.
“I’m sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean to lie.” Tears pooled in my eyes. “I swear I didn’t assist in anything.”
Damon spoke up. “As far as we’re concerned, associating with someone like Justin Solvi and his friends is breaking your probation. You should have known better than to get mixed up with those kinds of people. They’re all DS protesters. Do you know who Justin’s parents are?”
I looked over and pleaded with my mom to step in. To believe me. My father spoke up.
“There’s nothing more to discuss. Damon and Paul will take you to the airport.”
I stared between my parents. “Can’t I explain my side of this?”
My dad took a step closer to me. “Didn’t I tell you not to see that young man?”
I nodded.
“Didn’t I warn you he wouldn’t be a good influence?” he asked, and I nodded again.
“Were you not the third person in that car in Toledo?”
I looked down at the ground.
My dad shook his head. “I can’t get you out of it this time, Maddie. I can’t afford to draw any more attention to this family. You knew all along that if there was the slightest evidence showing you were fighting DS, you’d go to a detention center.”
I stared back at him.
“You have to learn to deal with the repercussions of your actions. Actions are dangerous.”
“If you cooperate, you’ll be released in six months,” Damon added.
“Six months! Mom?” I cried. She followed behind me.
“There’s nothing we can do, Maddie. If the news finds out you were involved in the Toledo case and we didn’t give you the fair punishment, your father could lose his job. This time, there’s nothing we can do. You brought this one on yourself.”
Hot tears flooded my eyes. She bent down and picked up a pair of my tennis shoes and gripped me in a hug. So quietly, with her mouth pressed against my ear, she said, “In case you need to run.”
I blinked back at her with confusion and took the shoes out of her hands. I put them on and Damon gripped my arm so tightly I could feel my skin bruising under his fingers.
My mom handed me my purse, after she took out my phone and flipscreen.
I lifted the strap over my head and stared at my dad the way someone might stare at a puzzle they’ve worked years to put together and can’t solve. I didn’t even see my father then. I saw a man as distant to me as a stranger. All the light was gone from his dark eyes as he stared back at me.
Damon’s phone rang and he answered it and nodded into the receiver. “The driver just pulled up. Let’s go.”
My dad glanced out the front window and back at Damon. “You didn’t bring your squad car?”
Damon and Paul simultaneously shook their heads. “We don’t want to be obvious,” Damon insisted. My dad’s eyes flickered to me with concern.
“What do you mean obvious?” he asked.
Damon hesitated. “We’ve been having problems with interceptions lately and squad cars are a dead giveaway. We’ve had better luck using unmarked public service vehicles.”
There was a black car in the driveway with the words Corvallis Airport Transfer written across the side. My dad still looked skeptical and Damon put his hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Kevin. I’m sure Paul and I can handle escorting your daughter to the airport. Besides, I don’t think she’s had too much training in car escapes.” Paul chuckled at this and I glared at him.
Damon pulled me outside and opened the door to the back seat. I climbed in next to Paul. I looked out the window and saw my mom standing on the front porch. She was trying to keep it together, trying to be strong for me. But I saw the devastation in her eyes and the way her hand clung to my dad’s arm. I looked at him and saw a brief expression change on his face. For a moment he looked as pained as my mom. Maybe I pretended to see it because just as quickly as it came it fled and was replaced by a scowl. I preferred the grimace to the look I saw on my dad’s face for that fleeting instant. It was as if someone dear to him died and I couldn’t help but wonder if th
at’s the way he saw me right now.
The driver, who was young, about my age, started the engine. As we pulled away I fought to keep my mind focused. I thought about what Justin had said. Think on my feet. Know my strengths. I closed my eyes and immersed myself in the situation to try and come up with a plan. There wasn’t time to cry.
The car headed down the street and picked up speed. I studied the door. There was no handle that I could see, as if I was already in some sort of a locked cell. I watched the road ahead and estimated I had about twenty minutes before we got to the airport.
Think, Madeline.
I looked at Paul; he was staring straight ahead and his chin was held high. His back was held straight against the seat and he clamped his hands tightly to his sides like he was some kind of soldier. He was acting so tough, but I knew him better than that. I remember when we were little and our families would get together for holidays. Paul was always so whiny. He complained if he got the tiniest scrape, he’d cry if he didn’t get his way. That’s when an idea came to mind.
The driver took a sharp turn and the tires squealed against the road.
My hands went to my stomach.
“I get carsick really easily,” I whispered to Paul. He glared back at me as the car pulled another fast turn. I held one hand against the window and the other one I kept on my stomach. I pretended to concentrate on my breathing. Paul watched me skeptically.
“You’ll be fine,” he said.
I held my hands against my stomach and grimaced. “Can he slow down a little? I feel like I’m going to throw up,” I said. Paul’s eyes widened, like he was remembering the same memory I did. He hesitated and looked at the driver and back at me. The car swerved between lanes, passing a ZipShuttle and a light-rail train. I groaned from the movements.
“Can you at least roll the window down?” I pleaded as the driver swerved again. “Maybe some air will help.”
“Slow it down a little,” Paul said to the driver as he scooted away from me. The driver glanced over his shoulder at Paul for a second and swerved out of the lane. He almost hit a ZipShuttle and quickly jerked the car to avoid it.
Awaken Page 15