Shattered Promises - Page 32/44

“Oh my god.” My neck arches as my body curves into him.

He moves his lips from mine and looks me in the eye as his fingers graze the trim of my panties. For a faltering second, I almost tell him to stop. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never done anything at all, except with him. I’m deprived in every area of human affection and it’s terrifying to think that he’s going to be inside me. As he slips his fingers beneath the fabric, the fear and doubt are immediately replaced by this need to find out what it feels like to be alive and connected. He waits long enough for me to stop him before he slides a finger inside me.

“Fuck,” he groans and he lowers his mouth to mine as he begins to move his finger.

My nipples brush against his chest with every ragged breath I take and I find myself wishing he had his shirt off so I can feel his skin touching mine. I moan and bite at his lips and he bites back at mine. It feels so good and my hips start to move against him. I can feel it again, the sense of freedom from a world of pain. It’s almost within my reach. Right as I’m about to reach it he slips another finger in me and his mouth leaves mine. My lips part as my neck arches and my head tips back. He watches me fall blindly into a feeling I’ve only experienced with him and I want to stay there. Forever.

As I come back down, he slips his fingers out of me and releases my wrists. I leave my worn-out arms above my head as he props up on his elbows, one on each side of my head. I work to regain control of my breathing and he smoothes my hair back from my damp forehead.

He studies my eyes carefully with a small, smug smile on his lips. “There, now I can look you in the eyes again.”

My lips turn upward, but I’m too tired, overwhelmed and drained to speak.

The smile erases from his lips and he lets out a slow sigh. “I’m completely fucked.”

I’m not sure what he means. “Why? Because of me?”

He traces my cheekbone with his finger and I will my eyelids to stay open. “Because I wasn’t even supposed to become friends with you.”

I’ve yet to understand what the term friend means on a personal level. “Is that what we are? Friends?”

He lets out a soft laugh as his hand strays to my jawline and then to my neck. Repositioning his body slightly to the side, he traces a delicate path down my collarbone to the curve of my breast and then the pad of his thumb grazes my nipple. “We’re not even close.”

My body quivers underneath his touch and he begins to lower his lips to mine again. God knows what the hell we would have done next if the damn bell on the store’s door didn’t ding. He jumps off me like I’m made of fire and grabs my arms to aid me upright. I reach for the bottom of my dress to pull it back over my legs and he grabs the top and covers my breasts.

I’m combing my fingers through my hair when the passenger door swings open and the interior lights click on. Aislin climbs into the car, carrying a petite silver box with delicate flower engravings on the frame of it.

“Okay, so we…” She trails off when she catches sight of us. “What are you two doing?”

“Sitting here, talking,” Alex answers with a nonchalant shrug. “We had a bit of an incident inside and needed a time out.”

She eyes me over with accusation. “Gemma looks flushed.”

“That’s because the accident involved her,” Alex says with a blasé attitude and I realize just how good of a liar he is.

“Oh no.” She sets the box down on the console. “What happened?”

“I went into a vision,” I say, noting the lingering breathlessness in my tone.

“What!” she exclaims so loudly a dog from one of the nearby yards starts howling. She lowers her voice. “You’re a Foreseer.”

I shrug, but Alex shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I think it was the star’s power that set it off. You know the divination crystal runs off energy.”

“Yeah, but does the star radiate that much power through her? I thought it was controlled inside her.”

“Who knows how it works, Aislin. You know nothing’s ever happened like her. She’s basically a mystery.”

The moment of bliss I experienced just seconds ago vanishes as everything catches up with me again. I’m reminded of what I am, what I used to be. I’m reminded of the pain, the desolation, the betrayal. They continue to chat about me like I don’t exist and, after a while, I kind of wish I didn’t.

Laylen climbs into the car and then we’re on the road, heading back to the house. I rest my head against the window and allow exhaustion to take my body as I shut my eyes. I drift to sleep, wondering what my dreams will hold.

Chapter 16

I’m plummeting deeper into the murky lake; the water smothers my lungs and blinds my eyes. I kick my legs, trying to fight my way to the surface. I refuse to drown. I refuse to die.

“Gemma.” A voice floats up from beneath my feet. “Hang on.”

I kick harder and paddle my arms, attempting to doggy paddle.

“No, Gemma, down here,” the voice comes from below me and I’m overpowered by a comforting feeling. I know whoever it is won’t hurt me. I’m supposed to listen to it… I’m supposed to go to it. My legs and arms go limp and my dead weight carries me down to the bottom of the lake where tall grass encloses me.

“Good,” the voice entices. “Now, I need your help.”

For what? I think.

The voice responds inside my head. I need you to save me.

How?

Just trust me.

I trust you. Bubbles float from my mouth.

Good. Now, whatever you do, don’t panic.

Why?

A set of fingernails stab into my ankles and I’m being hauled downward again. I panic and claw at the water, but I’m drowning; useless, becoming part of the dead. For a brief, yet very important moment, I don’t care.

***

Someone shakes my shoulder. “Gemma, wake up.”

My eyelids snap open, I spring upright, and my head smacks into Alex’s. “Don’t touch me!”

“Fuck, Gemma.” Alex surrenders his hands up in front of him and I pant loudly and hug my legs to my chest. “Calm down.”

I eye his hands, then glance around at the vacant front seats of the GTO and then at the shelved walls of Laylen’s garage. The interior light is on and the car door is wide open.

“Where are Aislin and Laylen?” I stretch my arms above my head, curl my back in and stretch.

“They’re already inside,” he says as he reaches around the seat and flips the lever. “Getting things set up for Aislin’s spell.”

I yawn. “How long have we been sitting out here?”

He pushes the seat forward. “Awhile.”

“Why didn’t you just wake me up?”

“Because I knew you were tired and I thought I’d let you sleep. In fact, if you want, you can go lie down in one of the spare rooms.” He ducks out the door and climbs out of the backseat.

“I think I will.” I scoot toward the door and he offers his hand to help me out, but I decline, moving around it, and put my feet onto the cement floor.

“You’re mad,” he states. “At me?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Why would I be mad?”

“I have no idea,” he says as I proceed towards the steps. “That’s why I’m asking.”

I twist the knob and push the door open. “I’m not mad. I was just painfully reminded of what and who I am to you.”

His fingers encircle my elbow and he stills me. “And what do you think you are to me?”

I look directly into his eyes and utter the truth. “A star.”

His fingers prod deeper into my arm, but he presses his lips together, not denying it. I feel my heart fracture down the middle and a tiny fragment chips off. Where it will end up, I don’t know.

***

After I change out of the leather dress and back into my clothes, which Aislin washed, I go to sleep like Alex suggested. He makes me keep a knife on the nightstand next to the bed in case something happens while he’s gone. I find images of cloaked monsters, a glacier world and an eerie lake haunting my head as soon as I shut my eyes and, soon I’m wide awake.

I lie in bed for a while before I force myself to get up. It takes me even longer to decide to go find Laylen, but, finally I tuck the small knife into the back pocket of my jeans and step out into the hall. The house is enormous and it takes a while to find him. He’s in a small room with black walls, no windows and a corner lamp. There is a trivial bookshelf in the corner and a stereo is on top of it, playing the soft tune of “Into the Ocean” by Blue October. In the center of the room is a red sofa where Laylen is lying down, reading a book. I feel uncomfortable just walking in so I stand in the doorway, deciding the best way to interrupt him.

He’s fully engaged in the book and doesn’t seem to notice me. I start to back away, deciding to let him be when he turns the page and calls out, “You can come in, Gemma. I promise I don’t bite.” He glances at me with a sparkle in his blue eyes. “Then again, maybe I should say that I do. That might entice you to come in.”

I press my lips together and step over the threshold. “I’m not that fascinated with biting. Just curious.”

He smiles, shuts the book and sets it down on a rectangular table in front of him. Then he sits up, lowers his boots to the floor and pats the spot beside him. I take a seat and he studies me, like I’m a foreign creature.

“What?” I run my fingers through my hair and wipe my face self-consciously. “Do I have something on my face?”

He shakes his head and sucks his lip ring between his teeth. “No, it’s just that you look so much like her.”

“Like who?”

“Like your mom.”

Every single one of my nerves unites with my heart; it bounds in my chest and dispenses eagerness through my body. “You knew her?”

He nods as he pushes up the sleeves of his black shirt. “I did and you look so much like her. Except for the color of your eyes. Hers were blue.”

I picture a woman with long brown hair like mine, lengthy limbs and eyes as blue as the sea. “What was she like? No one’s ever told me anything about her and I can’t remember a single thing.”

“She was really nice and she was one of those people who you knew you could trust,” he says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world to tell me and I decide Laylen might be the one person who can teach me what the term friend means. “You really can’t remember anything about her?”

I shake my head, bring my feet up onto the couch, and bend my legs to the side of me. “But I was only one when she died.”

“No, you weren’t,” he says with a pucker at his brow. “You were four. Who told you that you were one?”

I pierce my fingers into the palms of my hand until the skin splits open. “Marco and Sophia.”

“Why would they do that?” Laylen reclines back in the sofa, pondering. “Why would it make a difference whether you were one or if you were four?”