Charade (Heven & Hell) Page 6

  I swallowed down the guilt I felt for that situation because Sam had used Kimber too, which only made her relationship with Cole worse. “But you forgave her.”

  He nodded. “I always do.”

  My heart sank. He had always forgiven her and I never once wondered what all those times cost him. Until now. “I’m so sorry.” I went over and placed a hand on his shoulder. Being friends with Kimber was difficult so I couldn’t imagine what it was like to date her.

  “Hell, I’m the one who kissed Jenna in the first place. It had been just a stupid bet, but…” His words trailed away.

  “But?” I squeezed his shoulder.

  “Part of me wondered what it would be like to be with someone else. Someone less difficult.”

  “Jenna is not less difficult,” I muttered.

  He laughed, then looked up at me. “I’m not into Jenna.”

  My heart began pounding. “That’s good,” I whispered.

  “But I’m not into Kimber anymore, either.”

  I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. I wanted to tell him to be honest with her, but Kimber was my best friend. How could I tell her boyfriend to break up with her?

  “Things are changing,” Cole went on. “And not just between me and Kimber.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I said, backing away from him. I prayed he didn’t hear the lie in my voice. I busied myself by refolding the dish towels by the sink.

  “Even my mom is acting weird.”

  “Like how?” I lied again, even though I knew exactly what he was talking about.

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “It’s almost like she’s hiding something.” I looked over at whatever I heard in his voice. His blue eyes speared me with a look so clear I would have sworn he was sober. “Just like you.”

  I sucked in a breath, wondering what to do. Did I have it in me to make up another lie? To laugh off his words and pretend that it was all in his head? Wasn’t he my friend? He was hurting and confused, and I identified with those feelings way more than I wished I did. Yet, if I said anything, I would be betraying Sam. He’s given up so much for me and never once asked for anything in return.

  I opened my mouth, unsure what was going to come out when suddenly the overhead light came on, startling in its brightness. Cole moved fast, almost like on instinct, coming to block me from whatever entered the room. I blinked in shock before stepping around him. “Gran.”

  “I heard voices,” Gran said, her aura and body relaxing as she realized it was only me.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “I thought Sam had gone home hours ago,” Gran said, looking at Cole. Her eyes rounded as she saw that it wasn’t Sam.

  “This is Cole, Gran. You’ve heard me talk about him before.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, praying he wouldn’t act drunk.

  “Of course!” Gran said, staring at him.

  We both waited for her to continue with how late it was and that friends shouldn’t be visiting at this time of night. She didn’t say anything. She just stared at him, her eyes skimming his face over and over again.

  Cole cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to have come by so late, Mrs. Uhhh…”

  “Just call me Gran, honey,” she said, still staring.

  Cole nodded. “Gran.”

  Cole continued to talk, to give an explanation of why he was here so late, but I didn’t hear it. Gran’s aura was shifting and changing so rapidly that I had a hard time keeping up. Yellows, reds, blues, browns, mustard even some pink bloomed around her. I had no idea what it meant. How could so many colors, a range of so many emotions come into play at once and make sense?

  “Gran, are you feeling okay?”

  Gran finally pulled her eyes away from Cole to look at me. “Of course. I’m just a little fuzzy-headed because I was sleeping.”

  Cole stepped forward and grasped her arm. “Would you like to sit down?” He led her over to the table and pulled out a chair. When she was seated, he wrapped the discarded blanket around her shoulders.

  “Aren’t you a nice young man?” Gran said. I heard the slightest catch in her voice.

  What in the world was going on?

  Cole didn’t seem to notice anything wrong and he took a seat across from Gran. He chatted with her for a few minutes about nothing and they both laughed at a joke he told.

  “I really should be going,” Cole said, standing. He turned toward Gran. “I’m really sorry to have woken you.”

  “You’re leaving? You can’t drive in your state!” Gran said, standing.

  Cole and I both stared at her in shock.

  She chuckled. “I may be old, but I know when someone’s drunk.”

  A laugh bubbled out of my throat. Cole grinned.

  “I’ll get some blankets; you can sleep on the couch.”

  Cole seemed about to disagree, but I cut him off. “You can’t drive, Cole. We’ll worry.” I would worry.

  He nodded.

  Gran disappeared and came back seconds later with an armful of blankets and pillows. “Here we go.” She was almost chipper.

  “I’ll get that, Gran. You can go back to bed,” I said, swallowing and wondering if she would give me that look I would most certainly get from Mom. Leaving me alone at night with a boy…

  “Thank you, honey. I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll make a big breakfast.” I nodded, blinking back the tears in my eyes. She actually trusted me. Gran turned to Cole and patted his cheek. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

  “I’m sorry again,” Cole said.

  Gran smiled. “I’m not. I’m so glad to have met you.”

  We both stared after her as she left the room.

  Cole spoke first. “I need some air.” He opened the door and walked out into the cool summer night.

  “Cole?” I followed behind him. He staggered a bit by the stairs and wrapped an arm around the post and pulled back. I heard a great ripping sound.

  “Oops,” he said, turning to look at me.

  I laughed. There was a huge rip in the front of his shirt.

  “This was my favorite shirt,” he muttered, and in one swift movement, he pulled it up over his head and tossed it at his feet. I averted my gaze, but not before I noted how wide his shoulders were and how toned his muscles had gotten from playing football.

  “I’ll go make up the couch.”

  “Heven, wait.”

  I stopped and turned back. In two great strides he was standing in front of me. “Do you ever think about what it would be like?”

  “What?”

  “To kiss me?”

  “N-no.” I shook my head back and forth, backing away.

  “Never?” He stepped closer, almost prowling toward me, and lowered his head.

  “I’m in love with Sam.” There was no hint of doubt in my voice because I did love him.

  Cole’s lips covered mine, silencing my words. It was a light kiss; his lips were warm and he smelled like beer. I pulled back, stumbling. He reached out to steady me.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” I raced in the house away from him.

  He found me a few moments later in the family room, making up the couch. “Heven.”

  I ignored him and continued to punch the pillow into a white case.

  “Hey,” he said, grabbing it from my hands.

  “You had no right,” I said, hating the tremor in my voice.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I’m such an ass.” He scrubbed a hand down his face.

  “I’m in love with Sam.”

  “I know. I know,” he whispered. “You already said that.” He tossed the pillow onto the couch.

  “I’m going upstairs. I’ll see you in the morning?” I wanted to run to my room and hide.

  “Yeah, okay.” When I turned away, he grabbed my hand. “Heven, I’m really sorry. I don’t want to mess up our friendship.”

  I sighed. “It’s all right, Cole.” He hugged me and I let him. When I pulled back, h
e threw himself down on the couch. On my way out of the room, I noticed that the blinds were still open and went to close them. I looked out into the dark and an eerie feeling of being watched ran up my spine. I pulled them down and took off upstairs, heart pounding.

  Once there, I shut the door and sagged against it. Some movement across the room caught my eye and had me straightening in defense.

  “It’s just me,” Sam said, standing up from the bed.

  “Sam.” I pressed a hand to my chest. “You scared me.”

  “It was probably hard to hear me come in when you were downstairs with Cole.”

  Had he seen Cole kiss me? My hands were shaking and I felt sick. How did everything get so messed up? I made a sound in the back of my throat.

  “What’s going on, Heven? I thought you weren’t going to tell him anything. What’s he doing here?”

  What on earth was I going to say?

  Sam

  I parked my truck and climbed out, locking the door and stuffing the keys into my pocket. I didn’t really think anyone would bother it out here at the edge of Gran’s property, practically hidden among the trees and bushes, but I locked it anyway—out of habit I guess. Protecting what was mine seemed to be ingrained in me. It wasn’t something that I could turn off; it was automatic, just like breathing. I wondered how I had gotten this way. Well, I knew how, but when had it become a part of me? It must have been a gradual change, happening slowly over time until it became all I knew.

  I walked through the dark, wondering if Heven was asleep by now. I was late, a lot later than I wanted to be, but Logan needed me. Maybe I should have stayed with him like I did the other night but… I really wanted, no needed, a break. He had another one of his “fits,” as I had come to think of them, again tonight. It was really hard to watch—to not be able to do anything about. For someone who was decidedly protective, not being able to protect my own brother was driving me crazy.

  But how do you protect someone from themself?

  The night had started out fine. We grabbed some burgers and fries for dinner, rented the new Transformer’s movie and went to our place. I didn’t turn the movie on right away; for some reason, sitting in front of the TV while we ate bothered me. I worked so much and spent a lot of time with Heven. The time that I did have for Logan, I didn’t want to spend it with us watching TV and not talking. A memory of my brother and I sitting around the dinner table with Mom and Dad flashed into my head. She never let us watch TV during dinner. She made us turn everything off because it was family time. I guess I learned that from her. Man, it used to make me so mad. I smiled at the memory. “Why?” I would whine, mad that I couldn’t watch whatever the latest cartoon was.

  “Because I want to hear all about your day. Because I like to see my son’s faces.”

  I brushed away the memory when my chest began to feel tight. Those times were over. But Logan was really struggling to adapt to his new life and I wanted to attempt to give him some kind of normal.

  “So I was thinking we could go out to the woods that border the farm this weekend,” I told him, tentatively. We wouldn’t ever go back to the woods that bordered Sebago Lake again, but even though it had been horrible last time, I still really felt like trying again was something that he needed to do. “Work on how to control—”

  And just like that, it was like a switch inside him flipped.

  “Would you give it a rest?” he said, cutting me off angrily and tossing down his half-eaten burger to glare at me.

  I was momentarily stunned at his tone. Instead of getting angry, I said, “Look, I know that shifting hurts and I hate to see you that way, but it doesn’t mean that practice won’t help— make it easier.”

  “I don’t care!” He shoved his coke over. The plastic lid popped off and coke and ice went rushing across the table.

  I cursed and stood up. Everything was soaked. “What did you do that for?” I snagged a roll of paper towels off the counter and held them out. “Clean this up.”

  He glared at me, breathing hard, ignoring my outstretched hand. “Don’t you get it?” he snapped. “I don’t want to be like you. Being a hellhound isn’t what I want.”

  “I get that. I really do, Logan, but you can’t change what you are.” I tried to keep my voice level.

  “You don’t get it!” he yelled, jumping up, sending the chair he was sitting in clattering to the floor. “It’s all so easy for you. You just walked away from us, from your old life without a second thought. You started a new life.”

  “I did not walk away from you. They kicked me out. They told me to go. They couldn’t stand the sight of me.” My heart was pounding and anger swirled inside of me. He was blaming me. Blaming me for doing what I had to do to survive.

  Logan made a sound in the back of this throat and he leaped forward and upset the table, sending it over on its side. There was a huge bang and my food and soda went everywhere, ice slid across the floor, leaving a wet trail behind it.

  I lunged at him. He was strong, but I was stronger. My age and honed-hellhound abilities put me at an advantage. I shoved him up against the wall and pinned him there, taking in his wild eyes—I kept a close watch for that flame color to appear.

  “Stop it,” I said low, not looking away. To my relief his eyes didn’t have any of that orange color, but they were still a little off—familiar but not. The hound in him was warring with his human side… hopefully, this time, he would win as there was no wildlife in here for him to take his aggression out on.

  Logan sagged against the wall beneath my grip. “Do you know what it’s like?” he asked, dropping his stare. “To feel like a stranger in your own body? To not know who or what you are?”

  “Yeah, Logan, I do.” I didn’t lighten the hold I had on him, afraid that his “fit” wasn’t over.

  He shook his head sadly. “I thought you would make this better.”

  His words broke something in me. I wanted to be who he thought I could be, but I didn’t know how to fix him.

  “The hellhound inside you—it’s part of you—you recognize it. It doesn’t hurt you like it does me. It’s not that way for me. Why isn’t it that way for me?”

  He looked so defeated. It killed me. This was my baby brother. I didn’t want this for him. I eased back, no longer restraining him, but hovering close by. “I don’t know, Logan, but I’ll figure it out. I will.”

  “Sometimes I feel like…” His voice trailed away and he was silent for so long that I thought he wasn’t going to finish his sentence. But then his voice cut through the quiet. “Sometimes it seems like the two parts of me are fighting and eventually one will win.” His eyes snapped up to mine. “What if the real me loses? What if the hound takes over, and I’m stuck in a body that I don’t want to be in?”

  It had never been this hard for me. Being a hellhound was never really something I hated. What I had hated and had to learn to accept was that being a hellhound made me different, that the life I thought I was going to have wasn’t an option.

  “Logan, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. I know it’s hard right now. I know you’re confused. I don’t have all the answers and I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I swear it’s going to be fine. It’s not always going to be like this.”

  He looked up and that wild look had drained away, leaving the look of a scared, vulnerable kid in its place. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Promise?” He scarcely said the word, but I heard him.

  “I promise.” In the back of my mind I cringed. How was I going to make things better for him? What if I couldn’t?

  He smiled and nodded, all trace of anxiety seeming to fall away. He looked over at the massive mess all over the place and grimaced. “I’ll clean that up.”

  “Yeah, you will.” I clapped him on the back with my hand. His shirt was damp with sweat.

  “Guess you’re pretty disappointed in me,” he said while scooping soggy food off the floor.

  “It was a pretty good burger.” I
sighed dramatically.

  He laughed. It was such a “Logan” sound that it gave me hope…

  I shook myself out of the memory and realized that I was standing in the middle of the yard, hands fisted at my sides in the dark. I started moving again, and seconds later, the house came into view. I expected all the windows to be dark and the house to be closed up. But the lights were on and the back door was open…

  I looked across the yard and saw Cole’s truck in the spot beneath the tree where I always parked (well when I was supposed to be here).

  He was standing on the porch, without a shirt, and Heven was just a few feet away—walking toward the door.

  “Heven, wait.” I heard him call out and she stopped to turn back.

  He moved forward so that he was within inches. I held back a growl and the urge to rush over there and knock him out.

  “Do you ever think about what it would be like?” Cole said, staring at Heven.

  “What?”

  “To kiss me?”

  I sucked in a breath. He wouldn’t dare touch her…

  “N-no,” Heven said and thankfully began backing away.

  “Never?” he challenged, following her retreating form. I ground my teeth together until my jaw hurt. I took a step forward, ready to launch myself in the direction of the porch.

  “I’m in love with Sam,” Heven said and surprisingly, I felt better. I knew she loved me. I felt it every day. She wouldn’t be too happy with me if I raced over there and pummeled Cole into the dirt, which I sorely wanted to do. She would want to handle this on her own.

  Cole didn’t seem to hear her words because he leaned in and touched his lips to hers. White-hot rage came over me and the thought of letting Heven handle her own life fled my brain.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” Heven raced from the porch, disappearing from sight.

  I ran to the porch, but Cole had already followed, closing the door behind him. I stood there breathing hard, seeing red and thinking of violent ways to hurt him when I realized something…

  Heven hadn’t liked that kiss.

  I had been so focused on my own reaction that I hadn’t paid much attention to hers, but I had felt it. When he kissed her, she felt nothing and she had been relieved.