Tethered (A BirthRight Novel) (13 page)

A smile crosses his perfect lips. “No,
you
kept up quite nicely. And I don’t know about the babysitter part.” His grin curls up like a twelve-year-old boy with a bad idea.

As if right on cue, Caleb and Dru walk up to join our group.

Oh, crap. I didn’t realize a slow song had come on.

Hunter grabs my arm, tugging me against his rock-hard-chest. His strong arms wrap around my waist at the exact second my hands encircle his neck. With our bodies plastered up against each other, it’s impossible to hide the shaking in my legs—or the insane ratcheting of my heart.

Each time I look into his molten-lava eyes, I fear I might melt right there in front of the entire crowd. Every few seconds, his arms wind around me tighter—convincing me just how unbearable it is to feel him against me.

Being this close to Hunter is pleasure—and pain—all wrapped up into one giant ball of confusion. My body’s experiencing things it never has, things I’m not sure it’s ready for just yet. He renders me powerless in every sense of the word. The one thing that scares me more than anything else does. Well, other than magic.

I’ve never imagined feeling vulnerable to a guy. But in this moment—on this night—I feel more helpless than I ever thought possible.

The heady, sweet scent of his skin is like an intoxicating drug. All I can do is inhale until my lungs are ready to explode.

I wrap the hair on the back of his head around my index fingers, as the goose bumps on his neck tease my palms.

We continue turning in circles in the center of the dance floor. I look up into his smoldering eyes, in the hopes of seeing some sign we’re on the same page. The instant I begin gazing, the strongest feeling of déjà vu washes over me.

I contemplate the familiarity of this moment, unable to maintain concentration as he leans down to rest his face on my cheek. His right hand slides up my back and under my hair, to find its resting place on the nape of my neck. His touch sparks electricity inside of me. I
must
be dreaming.

Why does this guy I barely know have to be so damn perfect? I don’t recall ever being held like this—not even when a guy has claimed to love me. Hunter acts like we’ve known each other forever. But we haven’t. In fact, we’re more or less strangers.

I don’t know if I should run away as fast as my feet will carry me, or take everything in until there’s nothing left. I never imagined a single person could affect me to the core this way. Part of me wants to cry. But the other part of me wants to freeze this moment in time—because I know it will eventually end anyway.

It has to.

He’d hate me if he found out who I really am. ‘What’ I really am.

I can’t get close enough to take that chance.

My eyes begin to fill. As I take a few deep, calming breaths, he pulls his head back to stare at my face. The pained expression in his eyes touches me.

Does he sense my hesitation?

But before I can debate it any further, he gently places his cool, moist lips upon mine.

Time stands still.

He leans his head back, as a single tear descends my cheek. But instead of looking surprised or upset, he simply wipes the drop away with his thumb. Gazing into my tear-filled eyes, he leans in again to take my mouth in a more forceful kiss. His soft lips massaging mine until we find a perfect, consuming rhythm.

My heart catches in my throat.

Numbness takes over my body—like I’m floating on a cloud. Is this what it means to melt? I’ve never felt anything like
this
. Not even close.

A first kiss like this only exists in fairytales.

And that’s all it can ever be.

My
fairytale.

His kiss becomes more demanding. Hunter’s mouth opens wider, allowing his tongue to explore in search of mine. His right hand caresses my cheek, while his left tangles in a handful of hair at the back of my neck.

Holding me in this passionate moment, his heart pounds even harder than my own. We’re both lost in this all-consuming kiss—neither one of us able to come up for air.

I can’t breathe.

I need to stop for a second, but I don’t want him to move away. I never want this to end.

I savor the last few seconds before hesitation compels me to pull away. My lungs burn, forcing me to catch my breath. Even though I move my head away, Hunter doesn’t release his hold on me—as if I’m a bird about to take flight.

My lungs fight to replenish the air that’s been lost as I become aware of the danger Hunter represents. Yes, horrifying danger. The kind that could so easily destroy me.

Without warning, he’s able to make me forget my own name.

Without warning, he manages to make me lose sight of the life I thought I had laid out for myself.

Without warning, he opens the locked door to my heart and throws away the key.

As thoughts spin through my mind, something my mother said comes back to me. “…the incurable emptiness your other half left behind. It’s why you’ve always felt so alone…why you’ve been so desperate to feel complete.”

Wait a minute. Could that be why I’ve dated guys I never really cared about?

I knew I’d never get close enough for them to hurt me—but I also didn’t have to be alone. They filled the void in my heart left by my mother and the twin sister I never knew.

Is
that
what she meant?

Oh my god!

But it’s not like that with Hunter. Deep down, I knew it the first second we met. What am I doing?

I have no clue how to make room for him in my life, but I also don’t know how to live another day without the addictive euphoria of Hunter Payne.

Unable to tread this mind-crushing-current, I begin drowning in the sea of my own doubt. The deeper it becomes, the more uncertain I am I’ll survive the emotional waves crashing down upon me.

The strong, sheltering arms holding me, now feel like a steel cage—trapping me in like a helpless animal. I need to get away. I need to think without his seductive influence incapacitating my subconscious.

I squirm, pulling away from his embrace.

His eyes scrunch. The confusion on his face makes it’s clear he has no idea what’s brought on this sudden change in temperature—but I can’t stand here to explain it. I can’t. I have to get away from him.

I look up into his lost eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hunter.” Then I turn, fleeing towards the water as fast as my bare feet can take me.

The salty air numbs my mind, the wind throwing my hair across my back.

Once clear of all the people, I look back to see if he’s following me. My heart hopes he is—while my guilty conscience hopes he isn’t.

But I’m running all alone.

I’m sure I hurt him by taking off—but I didn’t know what else to do. I’ll hate myself in the morning. Of that, I’m certain.

I walk to the edge of the water, desperate for the chill to snap me out of this insanity.

For twenty-five minutes, I walk to clear my head. But all I can do is question myself. Why do I run away when things get tough? Is it ever going to change?

I’m an emotional mess. Even more so than I realized. I know I can’t drag Hunter down with me. He deserves so much better—in more ways than one. Now, I just have to find the strength to tell him. He deserves the truth. That kiss proves we’re more than just friends and it can only lead to heartache for us both.

It needs to stop now.

I walk back up to the party, but apparently, I was gone longer than I thought. Almost everyone is gone. When did it get so late?

As I reach the house, Dru and Dhelia are gathering their things. “Caleb and Peyton didn’t leave, did they?” Oh god, I sure hope not.

Dru’s face drips with disdain as he glares at me. “They went to the bathroom before we hit the road.”

“Good idea. I should probably go myself.”

“Well, you’d better hurry up. We’re just about ready to leave.” Dhelia seems more like her usual snotty self. Somehow, I should have known the truce wouldn’t last longer than a few hours.

I scan the area for Hunter, but he’s nowhere to insight. “Have you guys seen Hunter? We really need to talk.”

“Yeah well, you should have thought about that before you took off and left him standing on the dance floor like a tool.” Dru shakes his head. “He went home, Chloe. What did you expect?”

What? “He was that pissed?” I’m so stupid. Why did I freak out?

“Wouldn’t
you
be? Hot and heavy one minute, then you ditch him for no reason the next. When will you realize you can’t run away from
everything
?” Dhelia’s shouts.

I messed up big time.

There are no words.

My stomach flip-flops at the thought of him leaving angry. If only I could turn back time to erase what I’ve done.

The only thing I want now—is for the most amazing night I’ve
ever
had—to end.

My eyes pop open, remembering the disaster I made of last night. I wish more than anything I could fall into a bottomless hole and never come out.

If I had Hunter’s number, I’d at least call him to explain why I acted like such an ass. But of course, I have no way to contact him.

How have we never exchanged numbers?

Maybe I should have gone to the hospital today. No, that probably wouldn’t have been a good idea. I could certainly handle giving an apology over the phone, but seeing Hunter in person might prove to be the impossible. Besides, there’s no way he’ll forgive me anyway. And I can’t say I blame him. I can’t imagine how embarrassed he must have been.

I roll over face-first into my down pillow, fighting back the tears threatening to escape. What have I done?

Family is obligated to stick around when they’re angry at the stupid things you do. Strangers, on the other hand, can simply forget you ever existed.

Did I chase away my only friend in New York? I’m such an
idiot
!

I have to be the only girl in the world who would ever walk away from a guy like Hunter. What’s wrong with me?

I kick my legs on top of the bed, muting the sound of my pathetic screams into the goose-down buffer. I
must
have been a heinous person in my past life—and karma has tracked me down for payment.

Well my account is just about tapped-out, so it can give up anytime.

Why must I always make the wrong choices?

Perhaps the next time I’m at the hospital I should schedule a psych evaluation. Might be the only way to ever find answers for the things I do.

Wait, what am I doing? Enough! Enough of this feeling sorry for myself crap.

If I could hide in my room forever—I would. But life still goes on, even
after
the bad choices we make.

I force myself into the shower, and thankfully, the hot water eases my throbbing head.

I take my time putting on my make-up—even more time dragging the brush through my tangled, dripping hair.

Like a robot, I walk downstairs expecting to hear some sort of chatter coming from the kitchen or the living room.

But there’s nothing.

Complete silence fills air.

I snag a bottle of Poland Spring from the fridge and make my way to the island, only to find a note with my name on it, laying smack dab in between the salt and peppershakers.

Good morning, Dear.

Since you decided not to join us this morning, we figured
you could use the sleep. There’s plenty of food in the fridge if you’re hungry—so help yourself.

We should be back around lunchtime.

P.S.  And stop beating yourself up. Everything will

be okay.

Love you,

Gram

My heart sinks.

They’ve already told Gram
everything
. That’s just great.

But I guess I should be thankful to have an empty house for another hour or so. Maybe I’ll go sit in the sun for a while. My pale skin could use a golden boost.

With laptop bag in tow, I grab the oversized bottle of Banana Boat and a beach towel from the pantry, then head towards the back yard.

Situated on a lawn chair, I lean my head back, allowing the sauna-like rays to hit my face as I think of time spent with Aunt Morgan on her patio in San Diego. It won’t be easy getting used to the change in seasons again. I
dread
the idea of Long Island winters—and driving on icy roads for the first time.

But as I relax my mind to take a stroll down memory lane, a vision sneaks up from behind and slaps me.

Aunt Morgan’s leaning against Gram’s kitchen sink, tears streaming down her face.

Michael stands in front of her, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. His lips are moving, but it’s as if someone has turned the volume down.

Ash and Aidan are off to the side where Michael can’t see them. Watching. Waiting.

Anger spreads across their red faces, but they remain silent.

They just stand there, frozen like two concrete pillars.

I still can’t hear what Michael’s saying as tears begin rolling down his sullen face.

Seconds later, he storms out the back door.

The boys rush to their distraught mother’s side, holding her in their shaking arms as they sob together.

My eyes fly open, the blazing sun greets me with hostility.

Holy crap!

This must mean Michael finds out about the boys. I just wish I could have
heard
what they were saying so I’d know why Aunt Morgan was crying. It had to be about more than Michael learning the truth. I mean, why would that make
her
cry?

If Michael weren’t the enemy, his weeping would break my heart. I
hate
to see men cry. But finding out after twenty-one years he’s a father will be unbearable. Especially when he believed they were never born.

I can’t even imagine what the news will do to him.

Ash and Aidan should be here in a few days, so I’m sure the events in my vision will come to pass later this week. I don’t think Aunt Morgan plans to waste any time in letting the truth come out.

It’s pointless anyway. One glimpse of their faces and the Russo’s will know the truth. How could they not?

But I wonder if Aunt Morgan has any idea how she plans to share the news?

The Russo’s will
flip
when they find out!

I squeeze lotion down my legs, thinking of days spent under the judgmental, spying eyes of Michael’s father, Peter Russo. That grumpy man never allowed us to step foot in their yard when their nieces and nephews were in town, no matter how much the kids pleaded. Peter had so much hostility at the mere sight of us. I remember him shaking his fist and yelling when we stepped foot in the driveway to play. Maybe he thought the Russo children would catch
Witch fever
if they got too close. Idiot!

If he’d ever found out we’d bonded with some of his nieces, he’d have hit the roof. We used to figure out ways to sneak them out to the park, or to a nearby stream where we’d play on an old tire swing and jump in the water. He’d have had a coronary if he ever found out.

I shudder as dejection bears down on me—all over again. How could he treat innocent children with such cruelty? Maybe it was a blessing he never knew about Ash and Aidan.

Michael’s mother, Angelica, however, would look across the yard with her warm brown eyes, full of remorse.
She’d smile at us every now and then, but never when her husband was around to see.

According to the stories my family told, the Russo’s were always civil before they found out about our
secret
. But knowing how wonderful my family is, I could never understand why they feared us. Where the Russo’s are concerned, ignorance
definitely
isn’t bliss.

I stand for a minute to peek around the side of the house to see if the neighbors are home. No cars. Yes!

I can’t begin to imagine what they’ll do when they find out they have two Witches for grandchildren. I’m sure they’ll head straight to St. Vincent’s Church to pray with Peter’s brother, Father Gabriel.

Ha!
That
could be fun to watch.

Speaking of Father Gabriel, now there’s one man who always gave me the creeps. I shiver just thinking of him. The way he used to glare at us made me feel like he’d rather burn us at the stake than speak to us. How could a man of the cloth be filled with so much blind hatred? It’s not right. And it
certainly
isn’t Christianly.

Do they have equal bias against the Protestants and Jews? Wicca is a religion, just as Catholicism is. If anyone should understand, it should be Father Gabriel.

As my head swims with memories of the neighbors—and my latest vision—the sound of voices erupt from inside the house. Crap. Looks like it’s time to face the music. I brace myself, dragging my bare feet through the grass as I head for the house.

“Good afternoon, dear. How’d you sleep?” Gram bounces across the kitchen as I stroll through the back door.

At least
she
isn’t mad at me.

I shrug. “Okay, I guess. I finally caught up on the sleep I’ve been missing since finals.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She smiles. “Did you eat? I was going to throw something together for lunch.”

“No, I haven’t. But
lunch sounds good though.” I look around, now curious at Dru and Dhelia’s absence. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Oh, they had the same idea as you, so they went upstairs to change.” Gram reaches inside the fridge and pulls out pasta salad and all the fixings for ham and cheese Panini’s.

“That’s cool. It’s a perfect day for it.” Small talk isn’t easy with the Russo’s on my mind. I know I should tell her about my vision, but I hate to ruin her day.

“What’s wrong, dear? You seem a bit more preoccupied than usual. Is something other than last night bothering you?” Gram lays down the bread, standing beside me at the island.

“Well, yeah...I ah...I had another vision a little while ago. I just hate to bring it up now and ruin Aunt Morgan’s day.”

“Ruin my day about what?” Aunt Morgan walks through the kitchen door carrying a book and sunscreen.

I turn to Gram, then back to Aunt Morgan—unsure of what I should do.

“Go ahead, Chloe. Just tell her what you saw. It’s better she knows now, so she can prepare for it.”

I guess she has a point. “Well, okay...I um...well I sort of had a vision about Michael and the boys.”

“You what?” Aunt Morgan pulls out a stool, dropping onto it as light as feather. “Yeah, you’d better tell me now. What happened?”

Dru and Dhelia come walking in. “What’s going on? I could feel the tension all the way upstairs.” Dru pulls out the stool beside Aunt Morgan.

“I was just telling Gram and Aunt Morgan I had a vision about Michael and the boys. It’s not that something
bad
is going to happen exactly. In fact, I couldn’t even hear what they said. I could only
see
it.

“Michael and Aunt Morgan are here in the kitchen talking, while the boys both stand back in the distance, just watching.” I wring my hands, glancing at the floor. “Michael looks so broken hearted. He cries his eyes out then rushes out the door. Once he’s out of sight, the boys wrap their arms around you…and the three of you cry together. And then it’s over.

“It just didn’t make sense to me why
you
were crying.” I look to Aunt Morgan. “I wanted to hear what was being said, but it was like someone hit the mute button or something. I’ve never had a vision like that before.”

“Wow. I guess I should prepare myself then. Any idea when this is supposed to happen?” Aunt Morgan’s eyes freeze open, her hand covering her mouth. I’ve never seen her look so nervous.

“Not really, but my gut tells me it’s later this week. Sometime during the day.”

“Okay. I’ll tell the boys about it when they get here. I don’t want them taken by surprise when he shows up.” She nods several times. “You did the right thing by telling me, Chloe. Thank you.”

At least I did
one
thing right this week. “You’re welcome. I just didn’t want to upset you on top of everything else.”

Gram plugs in the Panini maker then sits down beside me. “Chloe, dear, we need to make a new family rule. I don’t want to put pressure on you, but in light of the warning your mother gave, it’s my belief you should share your visions with the family for the time being. Of course, if they should be about someone
outside
the family, you don’t need to share it. Unless you want to, of course.” She glances at Morgan. “We were talking about it earlier, and we feel the family needs to stay in the loop with what’s going on. With what
will
be going on. That way, as a family, we can discuss it and figure out what we should do. If there’s anything we
can
do.”

I look around the room at everyone’s serious expressions, realizing how important this has become to them. And they’re right. “Okay. I can do that.”

“So then we’re
all
in agreement. We want to know about Chloe’s visions, no matter how bad they might be, correct?” Gram’s stern expression makes us all aware of the gravity of the situation.

Everyone nods in agreement, looking to me for some sort of reassurance. But I have none to give them. I’m already keeping two visions from them, which I now realize I have to share.