Masquerade Read online

  “I guess I never thought much about it.”

  “Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be different?”

  “No.” I already knew.

  He turned abruptly, and I almost ran into him again. “Heven…”

  “So which one is your favorite?” I asked, ignoring his tone and gaze.

  He sighed and reached for my hand to lead me to another rack. “I like all of them. But a few of my favorites are Secret Avengers, X-Men and Iron Man. Then there are the classics.”

  “The classics?” He lifted a comic off the shelf and held it out. “Spider Man.” I smiled. “I’m familiar with him.” He thumbed through the comic pointing out things I never noticed about comic books.

  “Thanks for bringing me here,” I said on our way out of the store. “I had fun.” For the first time in a long time.

  “Me too.”

  There was a loud clap of thunder above us and then lightning lit up the sky. I jumped, unable to stop my reaction. Geez, I was such a baby. But Sam didn’t laugh at my reaction or even roll his eyes. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him saying, “Let’s get you to the truck.

  Once again that familiar feeling of safety enveloped me, and I smiled into his shoulder. A few fat drops of rain began falling as we approached the truck, and I spotted a trash can a few yards away to toss our empty Bubble Tea cups. I jogged the distance to the can while Sam unlocked the doors. Just in front of the trash can I was suddenly flanked by two men. They walked so close to me that their shoulders jostled me as I walked. “Excuse me,” I said low and quickened my pace to get away. They moved right along with me. I threw the cups the remaining distance into the trash and turned to run back to Sam. One of the men grabbed me around the waist and turned me back saying, “Let’s take a walk, sweet thing.”

  My heart hammered in my chest as the other one laughed low. I opened my mouth to refuse, but I didn’t get the chance because Sam ran up behind me and inserted an arm between me and each guy, shoving them out and away. He had enough arm strength to do it. Unfortunately, the men were not fazed, and they came quickly at Sam, pinning him up against the side of a building.

  “Go get in the truck, Heven.”

  “But…” I couldn’t leave him there.

  “Oh, we just want to talk to her.” One of the creeps laughed.

  Sam looked at me, appearing completely calm. “Go.”

  I ran, climbing quickly into the truck and locking the doors. I reached for my cell and keyed in 911 resting my finger on the SEND button, keeping my gaze glued on Sam.

  Sam straightened, shoving both the men off of him, and I realized they weren’t much older than us. They were both tall, dark headed and…grinning? Except their grins weren’t reassuring, they were frightening. In that moment the few, fat drops turned into a heavy avalanche of rain, pounding down from the sky.

  Sam said something, and one of them laughed. Sam retaliated by shoving him full on, and the guy stumbled backward. He advanced on Sam, and I tensed, waiting for the worst, but the other stepped between them and said something causing the angry one to back down, but not before he yelled something at him. Sam got up in his face, his lips barely moving as anger seethed from every pore. The muscles in the recipient’s back rippled beneath his shirt, and once again I worried for Sam, but the guy backed down. The other guy said something and Sam shot a look in my direction, his eyes narrowing into slits. His jaw was set and hard when he turned back. It scared me, and I realized I didn’t really know anything about him. But then he turned back to point a finger in the man’s face and shout. Suddenly all three of them looked up the street, and I followed their gaze, but all I saw were shoppers running into stores, most of them covered with hooded raincoats.

  Sam turned his back on them and walked, almost prowled, toward me, but it wasn’t over. I beat on the window in warning, but it was unnecessary because just as one caught up to him, Sam turned, throwing a fist that connected solidly with his pursuer’s jaw, and he hit the wet pavement. Sam challenged the other guy, but he shook his head and helped his buddy up.

  Then Sam was at the door. I unlocked it, and he slid in beside me, starting up the truck.

  He said nothing as he pulled into traffic and disappeared down the street.

  “Who were they?” I gasped.

  His jaw tightened as he pushed the wet hair off his forehead. “My roommates.”

  “Your roommates?” Didn’t he live with his parents?

  He nodded. He was soaked from the rain. I hurried to turn some of the heating vents toward him and pulled off the sweatshirt he gave me. “Put that back on. You’re going to freeze.”

  “You’re soaking wet!” I slid over and used the shirt to dry his arms and face, running it over his head to dry his hair.

  “Smells like you now,” he murmured.

  “Are you hurt? Your hand?” I worried.

  He flexed his hand and shook his head. “I’m fine.”

  “What was that all about?”

  “Nothing. They thought they were being funny.”

  “They looked angry.”

  “They aren’t very nice.”

  “Why not?” I demanded.

  “They’ve had some rough times.”

  “That’s no excuse for bad behavior!”

  He smiled.

  “I’m serious!”

  “I know. Don’t worry about it okay? They won’t act like that again.” Something in his voice told me he’d make sure of it.

  “Are you going to get into a fight when you get home?”

  “No.”

  I twisted my hands in my lap. What if he did? There was two of them and only one of him.

  He reached out and wrapped his hand around mine. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Why would you live with them?”

  He sighed. “It’s complicated.” Then I saw a wall go up. He was done talking about them.

  I didn’t bother pressing the issue. Instead I turned my head and looked out the passenger window, but I stayed right next to Sam. After a few short moments he placed an arm around me and pulled me into his side. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  “I know.”

  We drove the rest of the way home in silence.

  Chapter Seven

  Heven

  Kimber’s red bug was in the driveway when Sam dropped me off. When I climbed out of his truck, Kimber climbed out of the bug and ran to the front door.

  “You didn’t answer your cell,” she hissed.

  “I turned it off,” I hissed back, letting us into the house.

  “Heven? I was beginning to worry!” Mom came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “Oh, hello, Kimber.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Montgomery.”

  “Sorry I’m late, Mom. The bus broke down, and I got a ride from a friend.”

  “Oh. Well I am glad you’re home. How was the competition?”

  “We won.”

  “Well that’s wonderful. I guess now that it is over that means that you’re no longer needed on the squad.”

  She didn’t come right out and say it, but I got the impression that Mom would rather I didn’t cheer. When I told her I would be filling in for an injured Jenna, she didn’t tell me no, but she didn’t seem happy either. She wished me luck and told me I wasn’t allowed to miss Bible study to cheer. “Actually, the coach asked me to come back to the squad.”

  I could feel Kimber’s excitement and Mom’s disappointment. My head began to pound. “I told her I would think about it.”

  “Yes, you should take some time to think about your choice.” Why did it feel like she was trying to say something else, and why didn’t she just say it?

  “Is it okay if I hang out with Heven for a while, Mrs. Montgomery?”

  “Sure, honey. I’m making chicken. You are welcome to stay.”

  I pleaded with her with my eyes. She sighed. “Sounds great. I love chicken.”

  Mom returned to the kitchen to finish the
dreaded chicken, and we escaped to my room, closing the door behind us.

  “You have major explaining to do,” Kimber fiercely whispered.

  “Oh?” I went to my dresser and began pulling out something dry and comfy to wear. I caught a glimpse of my limp hair in the mirror and winced. Geez, it’s like I tried to look hideous.

  “Don’t play dumb with me. You like Sam!”

  “Shhh!”

  She looked at the door guiltily. “Sorry.”

  I tossed her a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, motioning to her cheer uniform. She looked at the clothes and grimaced. I rolled my eyes and rummaged around coming out with bright pink velvet lounge pants and a matching zip-up hoodie. She brightened and reached for the clothes. “You are such a snob.” I laughed.

  “I just like to look nice.” She sniffed. “And you’d better start caring about your appearance if you want Sam.”

  My appearance was not up for discussion. Still, a little part of me worried that she was right.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you liked him?”

  I thought about my answer while I changed into the very clothes she’d snubbed. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Are you crazy!? Of course it matters! I never would have used him, dated him, if I’d known.”

  “I thought you liked him.”

  She sank down on the bed. “I do like him, he’s a nice guy. Just not like that.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m in love with Cole. I always have been.”

  “How are things with that anyway?” I hoped to turn the topic to her and get some distance from my own feelings.

  She smiled. “Good. It seemed his fight with Sam, my confession of loving him and me only using Sam fixed things.”

  “You’re back together?”

  “We haven’t said the words yet, but yeah.” She smiled brightly.

  “Thank God. You two belong together.”

  “Now, back to you.” Kimber said, going to my dresser and pulling down her thick red hair. “Uh, look at all this frizz!”

  I rummaged through a forgotten drawer of products and came up with some anti-frizz spray. “Here.”

  “Don’t you think it’s time you start putting your wardrobe and products back to use?”

  “Kimber…” I sighed.

  “I get it, Hev. I do. But it’s been ten months. Enough moping.”

  “I am not moping.”

  “Then admit you like Sam.”

  I stared at her, mutinous.

  “Did you kiss him?” she asked, eyes twinkling.

  I grinned. Then I thought of something, and my grin disappeared. “Did you?”

  Her eyes turned serious. “Never. I swear.”

  Something inside me relaxed. “Fine, I like him.”

  She squealed. “So?”

  “No, I didn’t kiss him.”

  “Why not?”

  “I hardly know him.” Yet, I felt like I did. I sensed him. Just like he’d said.

  “Who cares? He’s hot!”

  I laughed. It felt good.

  Kimber turned sober and came to stand in front of me. “This year has been really hard on you. I know. But please, don’t hide from him, he likes you. I saw the way he was looking at you today. I can’t believe I never noticed it before. He’s totally into you.”

  That’s what bothered me most. He did like me, and I couldn’t understand why. He was hot, mysterious and was actually nice, too. He could have any girl he wanted, so why would he aim low?

  “Hev?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m so sorry if I hurt your feelings by ‘dating’ him. I would never hurt you intentionally.”

  “I know.”

  Mom knocked on the door then stuck her head in the room. “Chicken’s ready!”

  “Smells great!” Kimber said enthusiastically.

  “Coming,” I told Mom.

  When she was gone we both burst out laughing. “Thanks for staying,” I said, wiping my eyes.

  “After everything I’ve done, I think eating your mom’s chicken is a fitting punishment.”

  “I think it’s a bit harsh, but I am glad you’re staying.”

  “Maybe it will be edible,” she whispered as we left my room.

  “Don’t count on it, but it won’t stop her from making it again!”

  After Kimber left, Mom and I were in the kitchen cleaning up, and I was lost in thought, thinking about the time I spent with Sam earlier.

  “I forgot to mention that I signed you up to help serve at the pancake brunch after the early morning service tomorrow at church.”

  I stifled a groan as I dried a glass and put it away in the cupboard. “Can I work in the kitchen instead?”

  “I think interacting with the church members will be good for you.”

  I dried another glass and put it away. I hated being in a large crowd, and she knew it. All I could think of was what everyone was saying about me behind my back.

  “So how are things lately?” she asked, assuming that everything was settled for tomorrow. I guess it was.

  “Great.”

  “Still having those nightmares?”

  “Not as often.” Actually I had them just as much as always, but I felt it was somehow important to make light of them.

  “Any more memories from that night?”

  “No.” Why would she bring this up? She knew it upset me not being able to remember how I got this way.

  “I was talking to Father Mike and he was saying that he thought maybe you might be repressing the memories because…”

  I cut her off, angry. “Because I am too traumatized to remember. I know, Mom.”

  “Actually, I was going to say because deep down you fear that you did something to cause what happened to you.”

  A plate slipped out of my hand and hit the floor breaking in half. “Crap!” I bent to pick up the pieces. “Sorry.”

  She ignored the plate, watching me.

  “I don’t think I caused the accident.”

  “No?”

  “How could I?”

  “You were on your way home from the library that night?”

  “Yes!” Why did she seem to doubt this?

  “It was late.”

  “Ms. Agnes stayed open late for me, Mom. I had that paper due.”

  “That was very kind of her.”

  “Don’t you believe me?”

  “Of course I do,” she smiled. “I just want to make sure you don’t blame yourself.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Well, good. So about the cheering…”

  “I don’t think I want to do it.” I rushed to say.

  “Well, that’s probably a good idea. They need some volunteers down at church with the preschool class, and I thought you could help out. Too much on your plate and your grades could suffer.”

  I made a sound of agreement. Why did everything have to center around church these days? I finished drying the dishes and put them away. “I’m going to bed.”

  Mom came over and hugged me. “I’m proud of you. You’ve made a good choice. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  As I went to my room I wondered what she would have said if I’d chosen to return to cheering, and what she would say about Sam.

  The pancake dinner was a madhouse, and the crowd exhausted me. When Mom announced that she was going to stay and help the treasurer with the receipts and log book, I figured I was doomed for another few hours. But I was saved when Mom handed me the keys to the car and told me that she would get a ride home when she was finished.

  Once home I went straight upstairs and did something rare. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail on top of my head. It was driving me crazy, and I was alone with no one to stare at my face. Then I changed into a pair of knit yoga pants and a tee. I just wanted to be comfortable and not care about what I looked like. I settled on the couch with a blanket and the remote. A few minutes into channel surfing the doorbell rang. I figur
ed that Mom forgot her key and ran to answer the door.

  Sam stood on the porch. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” I stared at him, taking in his golden hair and the clean lines of his face.

  “Is this a bad time?”

  “No! Sorry, come in.” I opened the door wider, and he brushed by me sending electric jolts through my body.

  “My mom is at church,” I stuttered.

  “You’re alone?” he asked like he already knew.

  I nodded sending my ponytail into a bounce. I froze, remembering my appearance. I reached up to yank down my hair.

  “Leave it,” he said softly.

  I went to pull it down anyway, Kimber’s voice floating through my brain you should start putting your products to use.

  Sam appeared in front of me, his hand reaching up to pull my hand away, fingers entwining with mine. “I like seeing your face.”

  “It’s ugly.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  I shook my head and ducked my face. He used our entwined hands to lift my chin. “I like looking at you.”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  A wary look crossed behind his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re too good for me.”

  He frowned. “That isn’t true.”

  I went to the couch and sat down, tucking the blanket over my lap to hide my outfit. Sam followed, sitting next to me, so I turned, resting my cheek against the back of the sofa and bringing my knee up between us.

  He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind my ear leaving his fingertips to linger near my face. Very slowly, his fingers moved up my jaw and my stomach clenched, knowing what he intended. I sat there debating whether or not to allow it. His touch was feather light, and his eyes held no disgust, so I watched him as his fingers moved upward just grazing the bottom of my biggest scar. Holding my eyes, gently he traced the jagged outline and explored the raised puckered parts. He never once seemed grossed out. He actually looked sad and regretful. I closed my eyes to his emotions because my own were more than enough to cope with. No one had ever touched me like this. I didn’t want them too. Until now. It was sweet and made me feel not so ugly.

  His fingers didn’t linger on the scars but I felt the pad of his thumb brush against the underside of my bottom lip. My eyes opened. “Why are you here?” I whispered.