Read Bad Storm Online

Authors: Jackie Sexton

Bad Storm (3 page)

BOOK: Bad Storm
8.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Wow.” I tried to let the information sink in, watching a
guy across the green lawn come out of his apartment with his little Chihuahua,
who was yipping excitedly. It all seemed more complicated and strange that I
had imagined. I wasn’t really sure that I would retain any of that information,
considering history had never really been my best subject.

But it did make sense now why Aamir studied religion. I
suddenly had a slightly better understanding of who he was.

“So when does the ‘Neo’ part come in?”

“The Neo-Knights is an off-shoot the Knights of Cyrus. I’m
not sure exactly when it developed, but probably sometime in the nineteenth
century. Their methods and ideology are slightly different from the original
Knights of Cyrus, but the main difference is that their reach is global. That’s
why many non-Persians are involved with them.”

I tried to put the pieces together, but it still seemed like
so much was missing. “So, how do people join them? And what about the nymph and
empath situation? I still don’t think I get that.”

“A lot of people who have empathic abilities aren’t aware of
it, especially those people who don’t have a family history of empaths or a
culture that recognizes them. Some people do become aware, however, and they
find their purpose with other empaths, like the Neo-Knights. Not all empaths, I
should point out, have the same mission of destroying or controlling ‘impure’
people. Some of them are monks, others are doctors or therapists. Nymphs, on
the other hand, generally know what they are since birth. Their ability to
harness power from nature is hereditary, and it’s very rare for a nymph to give
birth to a non-nymph child. They are human, however, so they can’t do more than
rob energy. They’re not immortal or anything like Greek myth suggests.”

“And they can’t perform magic?”

“Right. That’s why they often find an empath partner,
someone who can work with them to manipulate energy and work towards a common
goal. That’s why a lot of us see empaths like witches or warlocks—they do
things that seem to defy nature.”

“But...you can do that too,” I said quietly, recalling how
he threw that guy out into the air without even touching him.

“Yes. But my powers are borrowed from The Other Realm. I
have to ask for permission to use that power, that’s why I have to use
incantations. The Neo-Knights believe that they can only take their energy from
nature if it’s completely necessary—they prefer to take it from impure
individuals.”

“So, Gita could have killed me,” I whispered. Suddenly, I
didn’t feel so good. Nick nodded, and we sat in silence for a few moments, the
wind blowing through the palm trees in a low, foreboding whistle.

“I know this is strange, and a lot to absorb,” Nick said, “but
I needed to let you know. I don’t know Aamir’s intentions, but even if they are
good, it is very likely that others in his cult don’t trust you. Clearly Gita
didn’t. And that girl, Marie, didn’t she attack us as soon as you told her who
we were?”

“Yes,” I said quietly.

“While she’s not his chosen nymph partner, she obviously
knew something about who you are. Information spreads quickly in these
circles.”

“But if Aamir could sense that you guys were different…that
Brandon and Trent were wolves, why didn’t he attack them?” I asked, trying
desperately to find the loophole.

“He did, remember? That night at the party when Trent
transformed?”

I took a deep breath, recalling that horrifying night. Once
I got past how Trent had jumped on me in his wolf form, I did remember that
Aamir was nowhere to be seen after that.

 
“Don’t be
fooled. They’re not the most violent set of ‘reformers’ I’ve come across, but we
also tend to keep a pretty low profile as a pack. That is…” he looked away from
me, off at the guy with his dog.

“Until now,” I said, understanding his pause.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“So the wolf sightings…”

“Lola has been a little on edge recently, I’m sure you can
understand.” It was like he was asking me to have sympathy for her. And as much
as I wanted to hate her because it spared me guilt, I couldn’t. I had
irrevocably damaged her life.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I do.”

We sat in silence for a few moments. I let my mind run over
the information, trying to process it all. It wasn’t until I heard the glass
door behind us slide open that I was ripped away from my thoughts and back into
the present moment.

“Hey—oh, hi Nick.” It was Sierra. The tone in her
voice was strange, as if she wasn’t sure to act. Which was weird for Sierra,
since she was always so social and exited around pretty much everyone.

“Hey. I was just leaving,” he said, getting to his feet. I
almost thought for a second he was avoiding eye contact with Sierra. He
probably felt guilty about wiping her memory, but I couldn’t help but feel like
it was something more.

“No one’s kicking you out,” Sierra said, though she didn’t
sound like she was begging him to stay.

“I’ve overstayed my welcome. Thanks though,” he said,
waiting for Sierra to move out of his way. She stepped to one side and so did
he, so that they ended up doing a kind of awkward tango before he could finally
get by.

Then something occurred to me. “Is the band doing anything
for Brandon’s birthday?” I called out. With all the tension in and outside of
the band, I wondered if anyone had thought about it at all. But it seemed like
a good chance to get everyone together again, on good terms. It would at least
put a smile on Brandon’s face—he loves attention. Plus, he had been
hinting at wanting a surprise party for the last few years.

“When is it?” he asked, his expression indicating to me he
wasn’t aware of it in the slightest.

“It’s this Saturday,” I said. “Maybe we should have a
surprise party or something. I think he’d like that.”

“That’d be nice,” Nick said. “I’ll talk to Trent and Martin
about it.”

“Alright. I’ll walk you out.” I followed him to the door and
opened it for him, giving him a small smile.

“Thanks for explaining things to me. I’m sure it’s tiring,
but it definitely helps me out a lot.”

“Of course. And take it easy. You can call me any time you
have a question,” he said. I appreciated the gesture, but I didn’t see myself
calling him anytime soon unless I had to. He was a strangely stand-offish guy
for someone so chill. I had never met a pothead before that was so conservative
with his smiles.

“Yeah, thanks.” He gave me a small head nod, and I closed
the door behind him.

“What was that about?” Sierra said, eyeing me suspiciously
with her arms folded across her chest.

“Um…” I started, trying to think of something to say. “He
was talking to me about Trent?”

“Try again,” Sierra tsked.

“I can’t tell you Sierra…he was telling me personal stuff,”
I said, avoiding her gaze.

“Oooh, like secrets?”

I gave her a hard look. “Yes, Sierra. Like secrets.” I
walked over to my room.

“I’ll get it out of you eventually!” she called out as I
closed the door to my room. I could feel the heat in my cheeks and knew that I
could only keep secrets from her for so long.

Damn Nick. If only he had let her know the truth.

 
Chapter Two
 

Later that day Sierra’s mom had called her, begging for her
help with rearranging furniture (her mother did that at least twice a month).
Sierra begged me to forgive her and promised we’d have our dramatic movie night
the following evening, assuming she got her paper done on time. I told her not
to worry about it, but she still felt guilty, occasionally sending me texts as
I watched a reality show about rich pregnant teenagers getting ready for prom
called, My Super Pregnant Prom.

Being here sux! Wish I could be with you ):

I laughed and flipped the channel, thinking about how she
would react if she found out what I was watching. So far no one in my life except
Brandon supported my reality television habit.

I was toying with the idea of calling him when I came across
a Christmas in July special, with Claymation Rudolph and Santa’s elves. I put
down the clicker, nostalgia gripping my heart.

There was one Christmas, the first year my dad left, that my
brother was in a psych ward and my mother spent the day with him. I didn’t want
to see him. It was selfish, and cowardly, but I was the one who opened his
bedroom door and saw the blood dripping down his arms.

I was also the one that insisted we Baker Act him. I knew he
didn’t want to see me, and it was just as well, because I was horrified at the
thought of seeing him in that terrible, lifeless place. I was filled with
guilt, and I had spent the last few nights wondering if I had done the right
thing.

I was alone that Christmas, since we have no other relatives
in Florida. Sierra’s mother had invited me over, but she was a really
emotionally disturbed woman herself and I kind of wanted to stay clear of that
kind of energy for a while.

And so I was watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on TV,
eating straight from a tub of chocolate chip mint ice cream when Trent knocked
on the front door. He knew what was up, of course, but instead of asking if I
was okay, if I needed any company, he asked what I was watching. When I told him
he smiled, his brilliant teeth flashing as he said, “cool.”

We sat together on the couch passing the ice cream between
us, laughing and smiling at the dated Claymation. While it was probably the
worst holiday season I ever had, it was definitely the most memorable Christmas
by far.

So I couldn’t help but reminisce as I watched scene where
Rudolph and the dentist elf sing about being a couple of misfits. I heard the
rain pour down on the window and sighed. It was hypnotic and calming, erasing
all the pain in that moment so I could only feel the comfort of being
understood, of being loved.


He loves me
,’ I
thought, remembering his words outside of the Clam Shack. ‘
At least, that’s what he said
.’

I brought my legs up on the couch, reaching my arms around
them and holding them tight, trying to will the thought away. A knock at the
door ripped me from my muddled feelings, and I got up to open the door.

It was Trent, his hair so wet it was plastered to his
forehead.

I stood there, my heart like a frog in my throat, unable to
think of anything to say. Not like there wasn’t a million things I could
say—I hate you. I love you. Shouldn’t you be in bed?

But he broke the since for me. “I’m no Aamir,” he started. “I’m
not going to tell you you’re perfect, because you’re not. And I’m not going to
tell you I’ll follow you to the end of the earth because that’s stupid, there’s
no such thing. But I will tell you that I love that when you think something’s
hilarious you’re eyes get really small, and that when you’re tired, you say
really bizarre things that make no sense. And I love that you make me smile by
just sending me a text. I love how smart you are, and how you’re good-natured
and caring, and incredibly loyal. It also really doesn’t hurt that you’re so
goddam beautiful. Basically, I love you and I can’t deny it anymore.”

I probably would have stood there forever, waffling in
confusion as I stared into Trent’s slate gray eyes, if he hadn’t broke my
thoughts with a sudden, magnificent kiss. My mind was shocked into silence, and
my tense muscles eased into him, my stomach bursting with butterflies.

 
And in that
moment, everything was perfect. I wasn’t anything more than the sum of our
parts, feeling the power of the world between us. He raked his blunt masculine
fingers over the back of my neck with one hand, and cupped the other over my
cheek. Our mouths danced, his tongue coiling over mine, lulling me into him. I
flung my arms around his neck, the rainwater warming beneath my fingers.

Every other thought died as he lowered his hands down my
sides, stopping at the top of the back of my thighs, and pulling me up in the
air. I gasped, but he clamped his mouth back over mine, refusing to let me go
even for a second. I wrapped my legs around him, moving my fingers up into his
shaggy hair. I was hardly aware as he shut the door behind him and carried me
to my room. I was to busy kissing his neck ravenously, taking in every inch of
his skin, like it could disappear at any moment.

He laid me out onto the bed quickly, without grace, without
any pretensions of finesse. He stretched his body out over mine and kissed me,
furiously, tenderly, languorously, energetically. Every time I thought I could
follow his lead, he changed on me, surprising me and keeping me on my toes. We
had years to make up for, and in his kisses I could feel the range of emotions
we had felt together.

As I brought my hands to his chest, smoothing them over his
shoulders and down his back, I realized what it was that he always was to me,
the connection between us that spanned a lifetime of heartbeats.

He was home.

He moved his kisses down my neck, leaving a hot trail on my
skin, and pushed up my shirt, giving my navel small, sweet kisses. He smiled up
at me, as if posing a question, and I nodded. He pulled the shirt up over my
head so quickly that our heads knocked in the frenzy.

“Sorry,” he murmured. But I just giggled and kissed him,
nervous and excited. Trent had never seen me naked before. Of all the moments
we had shared together, we still had a list a mile long of things we had yet to
experience together.

“Don’t be nervous.”

I pulled away and looked at him, a gentle smile on his face.

“I can’t help it,” I said, moving some of his wet hair out
of his eyes.

“Me neither,” he admitted, looking a little bashful. “But
you’re so beautiful.” He searched me with the most earnest eyes, tender and
full of longing.

“Do you mean that?” I breathed, bringing my arms up over my
chest protectively.

“Of course I do.” His face softened. He brought a hand to my
cheek and stroked it with his thumb. I shuddered under his touch, and closed my
eyes for a moment.

“This is intense,” I muttered, steadying my breath and then
opening my eyes to see his gorgeous face again. Seriously, no one should look
so good with dark stubble on his chin and shadows beneath his eyes, but Trent
always did. It was like no matter how well you knew him, you’d never know some
dark, mysterious side of him.


Except now I do
,’
I marveled to myself as I studied his thick lower lip.

“Yeah. And that’s why I’ve been trying to push you away.
Because you didn’t choose this. You should be super pissed at me, and I just
don’t get why you aren’t,” he admitted. He looked like he felt guilty, but like
there was something else, something that was pleading.

“I should be pissed, you’re right. But for some reason…I
don’t know Trent, it just…feels right. Like, all of the craziness aside, being
with you is something I…” I looked away, a fierce blush coming over my cheeks.
I couldn’t believe what was coming out of my mouth so easily—over a
decade of repressed emotions and intense denial.

“What? Bailey, look at me,” he moved my face back towards
him with his gentle touch. I finally dared to look up into his beautiful face
again, the expression on his countenance stealing my breath away.

“I always wanted to be with you,” I admitted. “For basically
as long as I can remember. God I sound so pathetic.” I dropped my gaze to my
lap, suddenly hyper aware of the curve of my belly over my jeans.

“Hey, you’re not pathetic, okay?” he lowered his head to
catch my gaze. His lips were upturned in a genuine smile.

“I’ve been in love with you for years now. I just never
wanted to get you involved with any of this…but I guess it’s too late now,” he
sighed. “You’re just…so good at things, and smart and wonderful, and gorgeous
and I just don’t deserve you.”

I gaped at him, at a complete loss for words. “Um, you sound
crazy right now.” I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “But seriously, like,
I’m not any of those things. That’s you.”

“Yeah, okay,” he snorted. “That’s why your the one who
graduated summa cum laude and I’m the one that fucked up my band, which was the
only thing I had going for me.” He shook his head. “And I couldn’t even protect
you.”

“Hey,” I said, my voice tender, only a register above a
whisper. “No matter what, you’re my best friend first.” I took his hand off my
face and held it my lap, squeezing it tightly. “And I wanted to know about your
weird, crazy world. I wanted to be a part of it. I still do.”

His smile returned to him, big and goofy, and like I was
used to seeing it. He was that adorable guy that couldn’t contain his
enthusiasm, and it made him that much sexier.

“I love you,” he said, squeezing my hand back.

“I love you too,” I said, and I felt a tightness spring up
in the space between us, like invisible strings were pulling his chest closer
to mine. Then Trent wrapped his arms around me and pushed his lips against
mine, making me dizzy with his passionate kiss.

He moved his lips down my throat and I gasped, a vivid
memory of the last time we hooked up flooding my mind. It was so sensual,
regardless of how trashy it seemed objectively, and so filled with heat and
desperation. I moved my hands down his back, pressing my fingers against the
taut muscle.

My fingers found their way to the bottom of his shirt just
as he found the top of my breasts, kissing the round plush of flesh greedily.

I shivered and tugged the shirt upwards, eager to see his
bare chest and thick arms. He relented and I pulled the cotton up over his
head, not disappointed in the least by his rugged chest and broad, strong
shoulders.

“Oh God,” I gasped, “look at you.”

“Are you kidding me?” his eyes were wide as he stared down
into my deep cleavage. “Look at you. You’re so fucking beautiful and sexy.”

“Shut up,” I said, a tinge embarrassed but also incredibly
flattered.

“No, I won’t,” he shook his head and moved away from me,
taking my hand into his. “Stand up,” he commanded, and I complied, rising to my
feet and giving him a questioning look. He walked across my room and stopped in
front of my closed door, where my full-length mirror hung.

“See?” He came up from behind me and kissed my neck as he
snaked his hands around my stomach. I followed the reflection of his gaze and
looked at myself, my wide hips and large breasts, held back by a pink bra. It
was just me. I couldn’t pretend to see any differently.

Then he continued to move his kisses southward, onto my
shoulder and down my arm. His fingers found the top of my jeans, and he pried
them open, undoing the button and zipper and bringing them slowly down my hips.

I moaned, rolling my head back and relishing in the feeling
of his fingers as they brushed down my sides. I felt him move down to my legs, kissing
the side of my thigh as he urged me to pick up my feet out of the jeans. I did,
feeling my legs turn to Jell-O as he pulled away the pants.

“Look at yourself now,” he urged, his voice breathy and
filled with longing. I opened my eyes and stared at my reflection, in a
matching pink bra and panty set.

“See?” he said, staring at my body hungrily.

“I just see me,” I laughed. “And I’m glad I wore a matching
bra and panty for once.”

“Ugh.” He rolled his eyes at me. He stood up and moved his
hands to the narrowest part of my waist. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve
ever seen.”

“What?” I gasped, but he was gone, kissing my neck and
moving his mouth up to my ear, seducing me with his delicious, hot mouth.
“You’re going to drive me crazy,” I moaned.

“Good,” he breathed into my ear, his warm breath tantalizing
on my skin. I could feel the rise of longing between my legs. He was doing this
to me, and I had no control over it any longer.

I melted back into his chest and I guided his hands with my
own up to my generous rack. He cupped my breasts into his hands, and I felt my
nipples harden against the thick pink cups. A deep, guttural noise sounded from
his throat as he moved his hands over them.

I felt the strip of cotton between my legs go damp with
desire. There was no way I was going to escape his intense, sexy touch. I was
all his.

He moved a hand to my back and fiddled with the clasp to my
bra, releasing it so that it loosened on my chest. I wiggled out of it, letting
it fall carelessly to the floor.
 
I
didn’t care anymore if I was naked in front of him. I just wanted to feel him
touch every inch of my skin.

“If you don’t think you’re beautiful now, you’re blind,” he
growled, and the roughness in his voice drove me wild. I looked myself over,
seeing the soft, curving lines of my body, my hard, pink nipples. I could feel
the desire pulsing through me, hot and ready.

“Holy shit,” I mumbled. Because for the first time I saw it.
My beautiful, sexy body. I groaned in excitement and desperation. I felt
Trent’s hardness push against my ass.

Another thing I had never seen or experienced. I turned
around quickly, gripping my hands on his lower back and kissing his chest,
relishing the strong muscle under the fold of my lips.

BOOK: Bad Storm
8.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Amber Fire by Lisa Renee Jones
Dark Ink Tattoo: Episode 2 by Cassie Alexander
All Night Awake by Sarah A. Hoyt
Found by Tatum O'neal
Tempted by a SEAL by Cat Johnson
Paris Stories by Mavis Gallant
Drink by Iain Gately
Song of the Spirits by Sarah Lark