Burdened (A Burdened Novel) (37 page)

Taylor smiles as she watches us
. He sighs out loud, half relieved and half frustrated. “Can you finish, Taylor?” he asks calmly.

She nods
. “He shot me with hollow-tip bullets—filled with pearl shards.” My mouth falls open, and Nathan turns red with anger. “It was the worst feeling as they tore through my skin, leaving pieces of pearl inside of me—four times.”

“Stop
, Taylor. Don’t tell me anything else.” He waves his hands in front of her.

I can feel the anger pulse from him. I kiss his neck
, hoping to calm him. He leans his head against mine, and rubs my arm that’s around his neck.

“Thank you
, baby,” he says softly, turning his head to me, and I give him a ‘you’re welcome’ kiss—quick, soft, and sweet.

“Little brother, I do not mean to upset you, but I need to tell you both this.” She waits before continuing. “I was lying on the floor
—I guess he had thought I was finally going to die—but Justin came to rescue me. He fought off your father, which didn’t take much, picked me up, and carried me from the room. As we were leaving the room, your father mouthed to me ‘he will not be around to rescue you for long.’ It took hours to get the bullets out of me and to remove the pearl. Justin never took his hand from me—out of fear of me dying. My wounds healed quickly, after all the shards were out, but it was the worst pain you could ever imagine.”

Her hands
are shaking. “I take it there is more, and that was the easy part?” he says sternly, with his voice even.

She shakes her head.
My brain is still registering her being shot.

She lets out an even breath. “He tried to kill Justin
too.” Tears start forming in her eyes. “Last week, a week after your father tried to kill me, Justin and I were sitting in the kitchen, and he comes in playing ‘mister nice guy.’ He says he’s sorry and he brought a cake—a beautiful cake—congratulating us on our bond. We start eating the cake, and he’s standing by the kitchen sink.

“
Justin starts spazzing out and his body locked up. It had to be from something in the cake because I was not affect. Maybe some nuts, but I tasted none. I can’t be sure. I reached for him, doing everything I could to help him. Then father walks up behind him and stabs him in the back. I could feel the knife go in him, and the paralyzing feeling of the pearl-coated blade rubbing against his tissues and bones. Justin’s full eyes turned black, his hair grew out black and long, his teeth sharpened and stretched out, and his hands turned black and cold, even as I held him. I reached for his face and his expression was sorrowful.

“
Mother and Nicholas walked in—at the very same moment that your father was going for another stab at his neck. I blacked out, and when I awoke, we were in our room, Justin next to me, resting.” She wipes her eyes. “Mom pulled the knife out, and Nicholas healed him. Mom wouldn’t give me any details of what happened, probably knowing what I would do if I knew.”

Nathan and I sit quietly for a while
, taking in Taylor’s story.

“Why did Justin
’s appearance change?” I ask curiously.

“Justin is a hybrid Sephlem
. They have the ability to shift into human form, but aren’t born human. So when he was about to die, he changed back into his true form,” Nathan answers quietly.

“You both are okay
now, right?” I ask Taylor.

“Yes
. Thank you for asking.” She stands. “I’ll let you go back to whatever it was you were doing. I just wanted to let you know not to tell him—if and when you all bound—especially when you begin feeling differently. I have already spoken with Rose, but I left out the gory details.” She walks towards the door. “This is unacceptable, and he is as good as dead to me.” She’s expressionless, grabbing the knob, and exiting the room.

I stay quiet
, unsure of what to say, or if I should say anything. I wait for him to speak. He doesn’t, and I’m finally ready to go home after Taylor’s bone-chilling story. We get up and Nathan walks us to his front door. He picks me up facing him, and I wrap my body around him as a baby would its mother.

He runs to my house
, and we make it there quickly. I walk through my front door, saying ‘hi’ to my mom as I pass by. Walking into my room, Nathan’s waiting for me on the chaise.

He beckons me to him
, and I sit on his lap as he pulls me into a kiss. A deep, affectionate kiss, filled with passion.

He pulls back. “Tracey, if my father ever tries to kill you, there is no stopping me.” His voice is stern and threatening.

“He won’t kill me, Nathan.”

“He doesn’t have to kill you
; he just has to
try
, and I will know no words.” I kiss him again. He grabs my sides and then pulls back. I wait for him to speak. “Come on, Tracey, let’s go to sleep.”

We shower and change. Getting in my
—what seems so small compared to his—bed. He holds me, not saying anything. I don’t blame him. I have nothing else to say either.

I wake up cold. Nathan is gone. I don’t feel like getting up, and I throw the pillow that Nathan lays on over my head, replaying Taylor’s story in my mind. How can a father want his children dead, regardless of what they are? If he wouldn’t have tried to kill them, they may actually like him, and not equally want
him
dead.

Why would I want to be a part of something like that? I mean, I love Nathan
, and I want to be with him, but I don’t want to walk around, looking over my shoulder, expecting someone to try to kill me. Can I have Nathan without having his dad?

His other relatives are
all fine. They are happy and full of life, and seem to enjoy being around each other and their mates. I can feel the love that repels in the room. Then dear old dad comes in and sucks it out with his hate.

“Tracey!” My dad’s voice calls through the house. Excitement rolls through me. I jump from
my bed, throw on some jogging pants, and head down the stairs.

“Dad!” I call to him
, clearing the stairs and heading for the kitchen. My dad is tall and slender. He carries himself well, just like my mom, and he is always happy. Nothing can steal his joy.

He grabs me in a hug.
“Hey, ladybug. How have you been?”

I hug him back tight
, not realizing how much I had missed him until I got him in my arms. I pull back to look at him. “You look good, Dad. And I’ve been fine.”

“Why thank you
, my good lady. I try to keep everything in order.” He rubs his cheeks and straightens his tie.

“Tracey has had a lot going on.” My mom comes in
, walking from the dining room.

“Yes, so I have heard.” My dad looks down at me. “Your mother told me about this handsome young man you had over here the other day who’s supposed to be your boyfriend.” He sits down on the nearest barstool.

My heart aches at the thought of him. I should have known my mom would tell him. “Umm, yes,” I respond slowly.

“What’s his name?”

“Mom told you about him but didn’t tell you his name?”

“I want
you
to tell me,” he says firmly.

“Nathan.”
His name comes out softer than I intended, with emotion sticking behind it. It makes the ache worse.

“Tracey!
” my dad says, louder than necessary, scaring me. I look at him, surprised. “You love this boy!” he says, with just as much enthusiasm.

My eyes open wide and my mom steps to his side. “Do you
, Tracey?” she asks calmly.

I’m not use
d to having these types of conversations with them. Hell, I’ve never even introduced them together to a boy before, yet alone discussed my feelings about one.

I’m eighteen
. What could they say to me? ‘No Tracey, you can’t love a boy.’ Nathan
is
going to be here forever, so we may as well get it all out in the open.

My dad is looking at me with his eyebrows touching his hairline. Usually
, when they rise like that, he is getting impatient. I can’t tell if he is upset, or just shocked. How he even figured that out just by me saying his name baffles me.

“Yes
,” I answer, slightly shy.

His eyebrows lower. “You min
d telling me how serious it is?”

Yes
, I mind. I’d prefer to not talk about it. “What are you asking, Dad?” I sit up on a barstool and start playing with the fruit in the bowl.

“Tell me this
: how long have you been seeing each other?”

“Last week, I met him at school
…” I tell him the same story I told my mom, deciding to get that out of the way before he asked.

“So how do you know you love him,
if you all have only been together for a short time?” he asks, looking at me. I continue looking at the fruit.

When my mom and dad met
—per their stories—they knew each other only a day or two before they made things serious, and a month later he proposed to her and she accepted. After some time together, they moved into a house, and five years later had me. I’m now eighteen, and they have been together and happy ever since.

“What does time matter?”
I ask, and he looks at me like I am saying more than what I said. I look away—back at the fruit. “Time has no relevance in love. Honestly, in love, you don’t recognize it.”

“And that’s how you feel
, ladybug?”

“Yes
,” I answer firmly, thrown off by his question.

“So
, do I get to meet him? You’ve never brought a boy to the house before. I’ve never met any male friends of yours.”

“That is the same thing I said
, dear.” My mom smiles.

I look to them. “Yes, maybe tomorrow. He’s busy today, considering
that I told him I’d be with you two, today and tomorrow.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Why are you asking?” I ask harshly, unintentionally.

“You are sensitive about this topic?” he asks
, with light eyes.

“I miss him
, is all,” I say honestly, shrugging my shoulders. I do miss him bad, especially sitting here and talking about him. I just want to see him, maybe, for just ten minutes. Then, I can go off with my dad, happily.

“It’s like that when you love someone. But
, see if he is not busy, maybe tonight or tomorrow, and we will go out to dinner for a ‘meet and greet.’ For now, go get ready to go. We are going to have a day out and take your young mind off of it.” He looks at my mom. “You too.” He kisses her, and she walks upstairs. I start to get up, to do as he said. “Wait, ladybug.”

I stop
, sitting back down. “What’s up, Dad?”

“
What you said—is it really how you feel about him?” He looks at me head on.

“Yes,
Dad. It’s crazy, I know, but it’s real.”

“And he feels the same for you?”

“Yes.” It is stern and certain.

“You sound sure about that.”

“I am, Dad. Why, what do you think?”

“I can’t tell yet
. I’ll know once I meet him.” He stands. “And then we’ll talk about what I think and how I feel about it.”

Not like his opinion would change an
ything, but I’m interested. Nathan is going to be a part of my small family as well, so why not let them meet?

We go out for the day
. We go to breakfast, a family movie, and to lunch on a boat that is in town for the spring. Dad does a really good job of keeping my mind off Nathan, except when he talks about the fair.

The boat trip
is nice. We sail out and come back, all while eating and laughing. Dad tells us about his trips, and the job seems to be going good. They don’t bring up moving or talk about things that would make me feel uncomfortable.

We leave the boat to
go to the mall. Dad buys Mom and me new clothes, shoes, and other things we don’t need. He lavishes Mom in jewelry and she reminds me of a teenage girl getting gifts on her birthday.

After the mall
, we enjoy a meal at this nice restaurant that you are not allowed to wear sneakers to. We leave the restaurant to go home—finally. Words cannot explain how anxious I am to get home and fill my need to see Nathan. It’s so bad I’ve started to fidget.

Pulling in our driveway, Glen is waiting at the door.

“Is that your friend, Glen?” my dad asks.

“Yes. I wonder what she’s doing here. Dad, let me out before you pull into the garage.” He stops and I get out
, then he continues to pull in.

“What’s going on?” I ask
, walking up to her.

“Tracey, where have you been?”
She grabs me into a hug, like I’ve been missing for a long time.

“Umm, around.” I grab her arms
, pushing her back a little. “What’s wrong?”