Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1) (7 page)

I knew the long-ass day at school wouldn’t end without Mark harassing me. The moron actually thought he loved Abigail, thought he knew her, but he didn’t see her as anything more than a pretty piece of arm candy.

She knew that. I knew that. Why couldn’t Mark figure that out?

I kept walking.

“Come on. Don’t wuss out.”

My car was
right
there. So close, yet still so far away. I rounded on him, squeezing my keys. Better them than his head. “What? Come to tell me
again
that Abby will never forgive me for keeping things from her? You still think she’ll forgive
you
? Your secrets are much deeper than mine are.”

Mark gritted his teeth, stepping toward me with his fists balled at his sides. For an instant I thought he might try to punch me, but he coughed out a fake laugh before he made the biggest mistake of his life, leaning his head back and squeezing his eyes closed. “I see my words have soaked in. You think you know her so well, how come you don’t believe she’ll be angry? She
did
slam the door in your face the other night.”

“Poor timing.” My palm throbbed from the keys cutting into me. Abigail wouldn’t forgive me easily, or not at first. But not because I couldn’t tell her. No.
Telling
her would make her think I needed a shrink and enjoyed playing cruel jokes on the people I loved. That’s what she’d be mad about: the truth. Period. “If you’re not here to taunt, what do you want?”

“A ride.”

“Excuse me?” I’d rather drive
over
Mark than drive him anywhere. “Do you see Taxi written on the side of my car?”

He actually looked out into the parking lot, squinting those beady eyes of his. “No, but it might be appropriate for you to add it. Dad says wherever the two of you go, I go, too.”

“Did he?” Good thing his dad and mine weren’t related. “Well, I guess you’ll have to find another ride home because, clearly, she isn’t with me right now.”

I brushed past him, taking faster steps than I’d like in public to get away. Oh, well. I’d make sure no one else saw me.

“You’re not getting rid of me, Derick.” Mark stayed in-step with me, arms crossed over his chest. “You know we’re all looking out for her. Not just you.”

“But you want something from it.” I unlocked the doors, climbed in, then pulled my cell out of my pocket and dialed home.

“Hello?”

“Mom, what’s this about Mark tagging-along like a lost puppy everywhere I go?”

Mark laughed, tossing his bag into the backseat and sliding into shotgun.

No glare would do my anger justice. Maybe a glare and a fist, but not a look by itself.

Mom sighed. “Just humor him, Derick. I know you can’t stand him, but what’s one more person keeping Abby safe really going to hurt? Certainly not her.”

“So I’m supposed to just show up with Mark and venture into the woods with her, with him too?”

“About that.”

This conversation slid downhill faster than I’d expected. “It’s our favorite spot.”

“Well, there are two reasons you shouldn’t go there with her.” She put her hand over the phone, muffling her voice, and told my dad that, yes, it was me on the phone, and yes, she’d tell me what Abby’s father wanted. “You still there?”

“Barely.” Would I ever get Abby back? Did I screw up so much that getting near her would prove impossible?

“Okay, the first reason is this: those men are still out there. You and Mark didn’t kill them. Her father thinks if you go into the woods, she’ll be at risk. The Snellings, your father, and I all agree.”

Fair point. “And the second reason?”

“She loves you.”

I wished Abby said it and not my mother. “I’m not following.”

“Do you think she’s visited the woods since you two stopped talking?”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t burned them down to destroy the memory of me.”

“Well, she may not see them the same way now. Take her out to dinner. Your father will go, too, but he’ll play it safe. She’ll never know he or Mark is there. You won’t either. Think of it as surveillance by the police.”

I hated lying. I hated all of this. But Mark had a good eye for noticing things, especially Abby; he never took his eyes off her. Neither did that Will friend of hers—or half the guys at school—but at least she’d never shown interest in him, and she’d never do anything to hurt Megan. Yeah. I was good. “Fine, and so you’re telling me that I do actually have to drop this piece of—”

“Be nice.”

“Drop Mark off. You’re telling me I actually have to drive him home.”

Mark strapped on his belt, grinning like a fool. “Told you.”

“After you pick up Abby. Then you drop off Mark. Your father will be right behind, and he’ll pick up Mark and follow wherever you guys go.”

“Even at our house?”

“Obviously not.”

“Great.”

“Before you pick her up, make sure to call her father. He has something he wants to say to you, personally.”

“Got it. Thanks, Mom.” I tapped the screen and plugged the phone into its charger. “I charge by the minute, Mark. Hope you’re prepared to pay.”

“For her, anything.”

Abigail

My world tumbled down
on
me. Dad wasn’t my dad. Mom wasn’t my mom. None of it would have mattered if they’d told me about my adoption before something horrible happened. Life could have carried on as usual, full of love and hope and dreaming of the future.

The fact they told me now meant some truth could have been in my kidnapper’s words: my real parents gave me up and all of it was kept a secret. Or that could have been paranoia. Maybe Mom and Dad were trying to protect me because they didn’t think I could handle the truth—or they didn’t want me to feel different.

But now I just felt betrayed.

I think
. Maybe instead of betrayed I should have felt grateful. Imagining a different family was impossible. I loved Mom and Dad, and we were all happy.

“Abby, Dr. Pavarti is here,” Mom called up the stairs.

We’d only been home from the hospital for an hour. Would I ever get a break? Get to lie down and rest in my own bed?

I glanced at the bottle of pain relievers and considered taking one so I didn’t have to focus on how awkward this meeting would be. Not that kind of girl. “Be right there.”

I took my time getting down the stairs, heart pounding worse than it had when Boredas arrived on my doorstep… right there, to my left. Right there he took me.

“Miss Nichols?” A man stood in the archway between the foyer and formal living room, looking at the door, then to me. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, sir.” I hurried into the living room and took a seat on one of the leather sofas. “Just tired.”

Mom brought in a tray with two cups of coffee. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the family room.”

Dr. Pavarti, a man with dark brown skin, beautiful short black hair and thick glasses, nodded. “Aside from tired, Miss Nichols, how are you feeling?”

I grabbed one of the mugs of coffee and inhaled. I could do this. “Unsafe.”

“That’s a very normal reaction.” He scribbled something onto a pad of paper. “But I assure you that the police and your parents are doing everything they can to keep you safe. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“No. I’m sick of repeating the story.”

“I see.” Dr. Pavarti crossed his legs at the ankles, so relaxed in his job. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Terrible. I was in the hospital. Have you ever tried sleeping in those beds, with all that noise in the hall?”

“Good point.” He smiled and handed me a business card. “I imagine you need some time to adjust, get settled into your home and routine and feeling safe again. I want you to call me if you start having dreams or seeing things.”

Great. He thought I was a quack job.

“Would you mind grabbing your parents and pulling them in here?”

Let the injured girl do it. No problem. “Sure.
Mom
!”

The doctor laughed again.

Mom and Dad took a seat on either side of me, each holding a cup of coffee close to their nose. How were we not related?

“Mrs. Nichols, I believe you wanted me to help you figure out how to move forward now that you’ve revealed the truth to Abigail. I’m sitting here, watching the three of you sit so close to each other, and not one of you looks uncomfortable. You
are
a family. You have always been a family. I suggest doing what families should do best but generally lack: talk to each other. If Abigail wishes to know the details of the adoption process, tell her. If she does not, give her time.” Dr. Pavarti rose and glanced at his watch. “I can come by once a week on Monday evenings, but I doubt you’ll need me for long.”

That was weird, easy. I guess he just wanted to get a feel for us so he could go back and research how best to help us—or something.

Maybe he thought we were all quack jobs.

The doctor took off, Dad ran off to a meeting at work, and Mom sulked about the house the rest of the morning, mumbling apologies every time she passed me. She must have asked a hundred times if I wanted to know anything about the adoption process, but I didn’t. Not right now anyway. My birth parents didn’t want me. What more was there
to
know?

I wanted to be normal again, and I wanted Mom to stop worrying that I’d hate her.

After lunch, I went to my room and stared out the window, watching the forest while good and bad memories faded in and out of my mind, mostly images of Derick.

Only a few times did I think of my captors, but I wasn’t about to call up Dr. Pavarti to let him know.

All day I waited for school to end, picking petals off my roses then bringing them to my nose to inhale their sweet fragrance. Derick’s letter didn’t mention what time we were supposed to meet. I needed to call him, but his phone wouldn’t be on until he was on his way home.

I changed my clothes six times before settling on a pair of blue jeans and a cream-colored crew-neck sweater. Mom had to help. She didn’t like the idea of me going into the woods—I’m not sure I did either—but I doubted anyone would show up again so soon.

Chills coursed through me.
Soon
. I felt like a target, like someone was definitely coming for me, like my next abduction was just a matter of time. I shook my head, staring into the mirror at my hideous face. A black and yellow bruise insulted my left cheekbone. Reaching up, I pressed the tips of my fingers against the swollen flesh. I shouldn’t have looked in the mirror. My chin quivered.

Maybe I needed Dr. Pavarti to come back.

“Abby?” Mom stood in the doorway, palm resting on her cheek.

I tore my gaze from the mirror and looked at her.

“Would you like me to help you cover it?”

Staring at my reflection again, I took in the new me. The bruise didn’t change who I was. The sling on my arm didn’t, either. Through all these things, I was Abby. There was nothing to cover. “No, Mom. Thanks.”

She walked in, then kissed the top of my head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Mom turned away, probably hiding more tears, and left.

My cell phone buzzed on my nightstand, and I jumped, forgetting all about my arm. Would I ever learn?

Derick’s smiling face lit my screen, and my heart.

A heart that wouldn’t learn, apparently. “Hello?”

“How’d your first day home go?”

“Terrible.” That was an understatement. “I think I would have preferred sitting through an eternity of Ms. Wiley’s class.”

Ms. Wiley talked so slowly. Reading a paragraph aloud took almost the entire hour and a half of our English block. On rare occasions, we’d make it through a chapter of a book. Very rare.

“Sounds bad.”

If he only knew the half of it, but I wasn’t ready to tell him about the adoption. Not until after we talked about why he ditched me. “Nothing I won’t get over.”

Derick’s blinker clicked through the Bluetooth connection; we lived two miles from school. He was almost home. “Listen, your dad called me—”

“
What
?” I nearly dropped the phone. If my dad called Derick, it couldn’t be for anything good.

“Calm down. He basically said if I break your heart, he’ll break me.”

“I’m going to kill him—”

“Your father loves you, Abigail. But he also said if I want to spend time with you, to stay near the house, or always keep you in my sight. I guess rescuing you earned me some bonus points.” I heard him grinning through the receiver. Probably not a good time to tell him rescuing me was the only reason
we
were even on the phone. “I think we should stay away from the woods for a while.”

“But—”

“It’s not safe, not while those guys are still out there.” His blinker went off again.

“Where are you?”

Derick laughed, warm and comforting and incredibly sexy. “In your driveway.”

I rushed out of my room, looking over the top of the sparkly Christmas tree, through the big foyer window. Derick’s flat-black Mustang sat at the end of our long driveway. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” He got out of his car then leaned against it, staring up at the second floor. The winter sun radiated in his hair, enhancing his sporadic streaks of blond. “Mark’s parents grounded him, so I offered to drive him home. Would you like to come with us?”