Read A Man of Honor (A Young Adult Paranormal Romance) (The Honor Trilogy) Online
Authors: J.P. Grider
One drawback of being a loner is there aren’t many friends to call upon for help. The people I
have
associated with in the past were never considered friends, and I certainly could not trust them for this. Hopefully Ethan and his family love Honor enough to keep our plans to themselves.
As I bend down to plug my dying laptop in, my cell rings. Beads of sweat collect on my forehead when the caller id announces a blocked number. This could be
him
. Or one of his men. Stretching out the neck of my t-shirt to alleviate the choking sensation I have, I touch the answer button on my phone.
“Hello,” I answer, hoping the higher pitch of my voice doesn’t give my anxiety away.
“Storm?” an apprehensive female asks.
The choking feeling disappears – since I know the male-chauvinist Gaffer doesn’t employ women.
“Yes?” I ask, my voice back normal.
“It’s Tam.”
Tam. I hadn’t even recognized her voice. Taking a deep breath, I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah. Hey. What’s up?”
“Um. Can I
, like, come over?”
Damn. “Um. Sure?”
Sure? I said sure?
“Great. Ethan’s driving me home right now, I’ll just have him bring me to your house. You can bring me home later, right?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Good,” she says. I can actually hear her smiling over the phone. “See you soon.”
I toss my phone across the table, pissed that I couldn’t tell her not to come. I’m going soft, and I don’t like it.
Truth is…I think
I want her to come here.
The guilt I feel thinking I’d be letting Honor down is irrational. She’s with Ethan. Now…I’ve got Tam. I guess.
I’m probably not even a second thought in Honor’s mind.
Twenty minutes later, Tamlin’s at the door. Those tiny spidery things that crawl in my stomach every time I’m with Honor are conspicuously absent. But I’m still kind of happy to see Tam.
“Hey, Storm,” she says, her cheekbones so high on her face that I think her smile has to hurt, it’s so big.
“Hey. Come in.” I smile back.
Pointing to the couch for her to sit, I ask her if she wants a drink.
“K,” she says.
“Like what?” I open my fridge and continue talking. “I got cola, water, and yeah, that’s it.”
Tamlin laughs. “Water’s good.”
I grab two waters and sit next to her on the couch.
“How’s Honor?” The second I say the words, I know I shouldn’t have.
“What is it with you two? You
like her
, like her, don’t you?”
Inwardly rolling my eyes, I respond, “You just came from seeing her in the hospital, I thought I’d ask.”
“You didn’t answer me though. Do you like Honor?”
“She’s cool,” I answer, trying hard to keep my composure and not let on that I’m madly in love with her.
Tamlin’s lips twist, like she’s biting the inside of her mouth. Then she shrugs.
“Did you eat?” I am so bad at making small talk. “I have chips or something.”
“No. I’m good.”
Her hand grazes my knee. She bites her bottom lip and runs that hand up my thigh.
Leaning my head back on the couch, I wrap my arm around her and draw her close. She meets my lips with a soft peck, but I part my lips and press more firmly, enjoying the sweet taste of Tamlin’s mouth.
As her fingers run through my hair, my mind races with thoughts of taking this further. Her lips leave mine and find a sensitive spot on my neck. My breathing increases and the little hairs on my arms begin to tingle. Fingers aching with the need to touch her. There’s a fluttering in my heart that makes it feel like it’s popping out of my chest. Her hair smells like shampoo when I breath
e in her scent, and that’s when I open my eyes and force myself back to reality. I’m with Tamlin. I
want
to be with Honor. Though I may never have that chance, taking advantage of her best friend is just wrong. I am craving to be loved, but if I’m only going to hurt her in the process, I need to stop this now. Before we go any further.
Tamlin’s lips slip lower on my neck when I lay my palms on her shoulder and put space between us.
“Tam,” I murmur.
“Hmm?” Her eyes are still half-closed, and she moves to kiss me again.
“Tam,” I say again, this time more forcefully.
This grabs her attention, because she opens her eyes wide now and sits back, looking embarrassed.
“I just think we should…” I put my hand on her knee, but I can’t think of what I wanted to say.
“It’s Honor isn’t it? I
knew
you liked her.”
“No,” I lie. “It’s not Honor. I just…I’m not sure I feel that way about you yet, and we should probably,” I take a deep breath, wanting so badly to continue where we were, “wait.”
“I should go,” she says. Standing from the couch, she shoves her hands in her pockets and curls her shoulders forward.
“No, Tamlin.” I get up to put my hands on her arms. Sliding my hands down her arms, I reach into her pockets and hold her hands. “I like you,” I say, trying to get her to look me in the eyes.
“I’m trying to be honorable here, I know I don’t have much practice,” I joke.
Pulling her hands out of her pockets, she moves away from me.
“Can we start over?” I ask. “Be friends, maybe?”
Now fiddling with the hem of her sparkly shirt, she shrugs, all the while keeping her eyes cast downward.
“Listen, Tam,” I say, sitting back down on the couch, “I think I’ve filled my daily quota of playing nice. You want to curse me, go ‘head. Ya wanna be my friend, great.” Standing back up, because this really is new ground for me, and I’m totally uncomfortable now, I ask, “So, friends? Or you want me to take you home?”
From the corner of her eyes she looks at me. “You’re an ass, you know that?” The grin on her face betrays her meek attempt at being angry.
“Yes, actually, I’ve been told that before.”
“Yeah, well…I’m hungry now. Where are those chips?”
Though I know Tamlin’s probably not hungry at all, I don’t let on. “I can do better than that. How ‘bout I take you to the diner to get some real food?”
“Okay,” she responds. “I guess you’re not
that
much of an ass.”
I take her hand, grab my keys, and head to the Jefferson Diner.
Tamlin is a good sport and fun to be with. Laughing with her feels good, and though the Honor undertones are absolutely present, we enjoy ourselves at the diner. But anxious fluttering rolls through my stomach when I drop her home.
Will she want to kiss me good-bye? Does she expect me to call her? Will she be hurt when I don’t?
“Ok, well, see you around,” she pronounces, before shutting the door and heading up her walk.
“See ya around,” I respond to an empty car, relieved that she is so cool.
Ethan, Hunter, and
Tom are standing at my door when I pull in my drive. All dressed in either brown or black, they’re ready to start phase one of
coming up with a new elixir.
“So what’s this about?” Ethan scowls, obviously irritated to be in my presence.
The feeling is mutual.
“It’s
about
saving your girlfriend’s life, loser.”
“Storm,” Tom intervenes, “Let’s go inside and you can fill us in on what you need us to do.”
“Hunter,” I address, after unlocking my door.
“Storm.”
Like a spring wound too tight, Ethan is about to snap. The enmity between us is rising rapidly, causing the tension in the room to reach the others. If Hunter’s foot tapping is any indication, he’s worried the impending conversation will escalate to a boxing match between Ethan and me.
To ease the stretching tension, I hand a can of cola to each of them, nodding with what I hope comes across as a smile to Ethan.
“Look, we all agree on one thing,” I begin. “We want the Gaffer and his men off Honor’s back, right?”
They nod.
“I’ve come up with a plan.” I rub the back of my neck, concerned that hearing my plan out loud may not sound as practical as it does in my head. “We need to replicate the original elixir.” I strain not to glance at Ethan. I blame him. He knows that. But looking directly at him right now will cause a fracas, and I’m not about to lose focus on what is our priority tonight.
“Ethan has the original jugs in his attic,” I continue. “I’d like to fill them with our blood.” Pausing for a reaction from them, I’m met with raised eyebrows. “Well, more like all of
your
blood. It’s recently come to my attention that I am no longer an empath.”
This announcement causes a stir.
“What?” All three respond at once.
“You don’t just suddenly become normal,” Ethan quips.
“Well, yeah, I did.” My tone remains flat.
“Care to explain
?” Uncle Tom asks.
“Well, remember when Honor brought me back to life?”
Now met with narrowed eyes, I press on. “I
think
she may have healed the empath right out of me.”
Ethan’s twisted
mouth and wrinkled brow tell me he doesn’t believe me. That, and the fact that he says, “I don’t believe you. You just don’t want to hand over
your
blood.”
“Are you high?” I ask him, because truly he must be to think that I wouldn’t give my
life
for his girlfriend. “That’s not the way I do things, but maybe you think I wouldn’t give my blood to save Honor, ‘cause that’s the way
you
do things.”
Ethan meets me chest to chest. “You’re a jackass,” he leers.
“No. You are. You let Honor lie in that hospital bed, suffering, when you could have saved her. You could heal her
each
and
every
time, but you choose not to.
That
is why you’ll never be more than a loser in my eyes.”
Ethan clears his throat and pulls at his collar. “You think I care what
you
think of me?”
“You know what? I don’t give a damn. What I care about is Honor, and if it were in
my power to heal even a fucking headache that she has, I would. And I can’t, for the life of me, understand why you won’t.”
With the palms of his hands, he shoves me in the chest, but I don’t budge.
“I knew you had a thing for my girlfriend. You’re such an…”
“Then
act
like she’s your girlfriend,” I interrupt, yelling at him, “and try healing her once in a while.”
“Okay, guys,” Uncle Tom intervenes. “Let’s talk about the task at hand.”
“Right,” I say, glaring at Ethan.
“Why
don’t
you heal Honor?” I hear Hunter ask Ethan.
All heads turn to hear Ethan’s response. Including me, who hasn’t taken my eyes off him yet.
His body shifts and his words come out all garbled. “Well…she’d just try to heal me back.” Ethan looks down at his shuffling feet. “We’d just keep going around in circles.”
“Lame,” Hunter quips.
“Forget it, guys,” Uncle Tom scolds. “Storm, please finish.”
“Yeah.” I turn away from the loser and focus on Tom and Hunter. “In order to fill the jugs with our blood, we need equipment. That’s where the black clothes come in. There’s a blood bank in Parsippany. We need to break in and get some needles and bags and anything else they have so we can take blood.”
“Why can’t we just steal blood? Why does it have to be ours?” Hunter asks.
“’Cause it needs to be empath blood.”
“Why? It’s not like they can tell.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. This guy’s ancient. Plus, remember, he was working with Honor’s grandfather. He may not have been a scientist like him, but he must have picked up a thing or two.”
“Hmm.” Hunter’s brain is working overtime thinking about this – he’s scratching his head.
“Besides, I’m not quite sure how it works, but if they try out the blood, they may know if it has healing powers or not.”
“So..w..wait,” Ethan stutters, reluctant to speak. “All someone needs to do to become an empath is inject an empath’s blood into them? That seems highly unlikely,” he scoffs.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” my words come out clipped and angry.
“Then what
are
you saying?”
“I’m saying. We don’t. Know.” I refrain from screaming at him. “But I’m not going to take a chance by handing over just anybody’s blood. They’ll test it. I’m sure of that.”
Uncle Tom nods his head. “Okay then. Let’s get a move on. I’ll give Elijah a call tomorrow and see if we can’t get him to come up and give us some of his blood…also, I have some friends in Pennsylvania who’ll help too if we need it.”
“Great. Let’s go.” I command, grabbing my car keys.
“Storm,” Tom says. “Let’s take Ethan’s car.”
“What?”
“It’s less conspicuous.” Tom says.
“Yeah. Sure.” Ethan sighs.
The blood bank is surrounded by huge, empty, well-lit parking lots, but fortunately for us, the area behind the blood bank is dark. We turn off the car, and I grab the tool kit I brought to break the locks. In it are some wire cutters to clip the alarm system, if there is one.
“Okay, we need to be quick. If there’s an alarm, I can cut the wires, but I’m not sure if it’ll alert the cops before I do. So look for anything you think we’ll need and get the hell back in the car. Quickly.”
Handing everyone a pair of gloves
and a big black garbage bag, I nod my head and turn to attempt picking the lock. After about two full minutes, I break through a lock and two deadbolts, putting to use some techniques the Gaffer’s men had taught me before I headed to Jersey. To my surprise, no alarm sounds.
Then I think
, and say, “There may be a silent alarm that goes right to the police, so just take everything you can.”
Scrambling through every drawer and cabinet there is, we sweep everything into our bags and are in and out in sixty seconds flat. Following the directions I found earlier online, Ethan tears down a back road that leads behind the bank opposite the way we came. Luckily there’s a path within the trees that outline the road, because in the near distance, we hear sirens. The alarm must have alerted the cops.
“Shut down the lights,” I instruct Ethan. “Go slow and follow the path. It’ll lead us outta here, I saw it on the satellite map. Just move slowly.”
As the sirens fade in the background, we find the road we need. Once we’re on Route 10, I relax, fairly certain we made it undetected.
“Now get us home and forget this night ever happened,” Uncle Tom directs. “Don’t utter a word to anyone, and no one will be the wiser.”
An hour and a half later, after Ethan and his family drop me off, and all the blood supplies have been sorted, I’m confident we have what we need to make this work. My head throbs. The stress has definitely wreaked havoc on my mind. But for Honor, it’s all good.
The thought of keeping her safe is the last thing that enters my mind before nodding off on the couch.