Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1) (9 page)

“Whoa. Change your mind?” He held my throbbing elbow, but I pushed him back, urging him to go, to run, to escape.

“H-he’s here.”

“Go to the bar and call Officer Daniels.” Derick nudged me to the side and made his way toward Psycho Number One, but he walked right past him.

My kidnapper watched Derick, a broad grin on his face. Strutting up to me, Boredas laughed. “You are waking up, noticing things you did not notice before. Your Guardian powers grow stronger, as does your essence’s light. Hiding here is impossible now.”

I reached into my bag, fumbling around for my cell phone.

“Save it. Calling for help will only make you look crazy. No one can see me but you. Well, maybe your boyfriend sees me, but I doubt it. Though, he has secrets of his own.” He glanced over his shoulder; Derick came through the door, confusion lining his face. “Nothing is as it seems, Abigail Nichols.”

Derick passed right through Boredas, and I stumbled back onto a barstool, shaking my head. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand. I feel fine, a little scared, but fine. How could I have PTSD, Derick? How can I be going crazy?”

He put his hands on my cheeks and forced me to look him in the eyes. “Slow down. Tell me what happened. I didn’t see anyone in the restaurant or outside—”

“He said you couldn’t see him—no, he said
you
might be able to see him, but no one else. He said you’re keeping secrets. Nothing is as it seems. That I can no longer hide here because my essence’s light is too bright and my powers are growing stronger.” My breath came at a rapid pace. Hyperventilating again. This sucked. “Derick, I need to go home. I need to call Dr. Pavarti. I need to yell at my dad. I need to go to bed, or take a bath, or put a pillow over my head.”

He pulled out his wallet and handed a fifty-dollar bill to the bartender. “Make sure Misty gets this. We were in the booth in the corner.”

We left the restaurant with our heads down. I didn’t make a scene—or at least I don’t think I did. What did I know? My mind was stuck somewhere between reality and trauma-induced visions. I could have screamed like a raving lunatic and not known.

Derick helped me into his car, then we got on the highway and headed for home.

“Do you think I’m crazy?” I searched through my bag for Dr. Pavarti’s number. He gave me a business card; it had to be in my purse somewhere.

“I think you’re stressed and tired.” Derick pulled into his driveway, then cut the engine.

“Aren’t you taking me home?”

“You live across the street, Abigail. I can walk you, but later. The last thing you need to do is go yelling at your dad about what he said to me, at least right now.” Derick ran around his car and opened the door for me. “Would you like to come in with me? We can watch your favorite movie, eat some popcorn—”

“On a school night?”

“Are you really going to school tomorrow?”

Probably not. Not after what happened tonight. Mom’s offer to skip for the next couple days looked better and better every passing hour. “Aren’t you?”

“Missing a day won’t kill me.” Taking my left hand, Derick tugged me toward his house. “Don’t make me beg. I’ll get on my knees.”

He wasn’t lying either. Derick fell to his knees, hands clasped beneath his chin and all. “Please. Please. Abigail Nichols, please come inside with me. You will make me the happiest man alive.”

“Fine. If you’re forcing me to.” My heart leapt. He always made me feel better, so warm, so wanted—most of the time anyway—and there was something else, too. Derick made me feel loved. “Let me text my mom.”

Returning to his feet, he laughed. “Begging gets all the girls.”

“All of them, huh?” I fumbled my phone, typing in a quick message to tell Mom I accepted her offer to skip school for the rest of the week and that Derick and I were at his house watching a movie.

“There’s only one who holds my heart.”

If he only knew he owned mine.

“Mom says okay. You know she and my dad are probably staring out the window now.” I checked. Just in case.

“Now that’s paranoia.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me? You know, about what he said? I could have talked to him.”

Derick opened the front door, allowing me to walk in first. “Trust me: you wouldn’t have talked him out of this.”

“But what’s changed?” I asked, slipping out of my coat so he could hang it in the closet.

“Me, you, everything.”

“That sounds… ominous.”
And like it needs a lot more explanation
.

“It is, but I’ll tell you more about that later.”

We went up to his room, queasiness settling in the pit of my stomach. Derick piled a bunch of pillows on his bed for me, popped in a movie, then lay down. Mrs. Crawford brought up the popcorn. She didn’t seem to care how close we were; my father would have died if he saw this, his baby girl too close to a boy he couldn’t stand.

“Enjoy the movie.” His mom flicked out the light and then closed the door.

“Why does she trust us together so much?”

Derick shrugged. “Maybe she figures I haven’t gotten you pregnant, so we must be doing something right.”

“That’s…”—
embarrassing
. Was our sex life—or lack thereof—a conversation Mr. and Mrs. Crawford spoke about over dinner?— “She doesn’t think we’ve… you know?”

“Had sex?” His chest rumbled with laughter. “No. She knows we haven’t had sex.”

“How?” I turned onto my back and gazed up into Derick’s eyes. He propped up his head with his palm, using his other hand to trace small circles on my face, trailing from my forehead to my lips.

My soul cried out for him to kiss me.

“We talk about these things on occasion. Not the most comfortable conversation to have, but it clearly earns me freedom.” He pointed at the closed door, but I wanted his finger back on my skin.

Derick didn’t make me wait long.

“What was the rest of your story?” My eyes burned with exhaustion, barely staying open wide enough to see a blurry outline of his face. I was comfortable and safe in his full-size bed, under his navy-blue blanket I helped him pick out a couple years ago.

Our lives were woven together by more than a few random teenage moments. Those relationships were common in high school, but we had something more. Something we could trace back to times spent in department stores, picking out bedspreads, clothes, or whatever else.

Breaking in and taking me away from him would require more than a kidnapping. Memories would have to be stolen, as well. But Derick had already saved me once; I doubted anyone could touch me again while I was secure in his arms.

Lightning struck nearby; bright white flashed in the room. Hard, heavy drops of water landed on the roof. Then, as though the sky opened up and dropped all the rain at once, it pounded the house.

“Not tonight—you’ve been through enough—but I promise to tell you.” Derick kissed my cheek, making me burn on the inside.

I wanted so much more.

“
Where is she
?”

Jolting awake to my dad’s angry voice was not exactly the best greeting to a new day. The sun slipped through the white mini-blinds, casting bright orange rays along the bedspread. Last night’s storm had passed, but a new one brewed; I was in trouble.

Big trouble.

Yet I couldn’t seem to move.

I closed my eyes, frozen with panic, and pretended my time with Derick would never end. Because I knew it was about to—for a very long time—and I was surprised Dad hadn’t barged over here earlier, demanding Derick be burned on some sort of stake for keeping his baby girl all night long.

“She and Derick fell asleep. After everything your daughter has been through, Joseph, I figured I’d just let them rest.” Derick’s mother sounded calm, gentle.

“
Together
?” Footsteps pounded the stairs, eliciting the same fast pace from my heart. “If your boy did anything inappropriate—”

“Enough,” Mr. Crawford boomed. “I am tired of your relentless insinuations about my boy, Joseph. He and your daughter have something very innocent, pure, and you always taint that with accusations.”

Wow. Just wow.

Derick took a deep breath and tightened his hold on me. “Sounds like we fell asleep,” he whispered.

“Sounds like I’m about to be grounded.” The only question was, how long?

“I will barrel through you if you don’t allow me to pass,” my dad practically growled. “Why didn’t you answer the phone, or the door, when we tried earlier? Why didn’t you send her home like responsible parents
should
do?”

“Maybe we should get up,” I said, tossing the blankets with my good arm. I needed to find my cell and clear the million missed calls and text messages I knew would be there. Yep, I was definitely dead.

Derick grabbed the comforter and tugged it back over us, flashing a devious smile. “If you’re going to be grounded for something we didn’t do, maybe we should at least enjoy ourselves a little first.”

“That’s terrible.” But oh so exciting to think about.

Closing his eyes, he lowered his head and brushed his lips across mine. “May I kiss you?”

A slight tip of my head and he wouldn’t need to ask, our mouths would meet, and—

The door burst open. “Get away from her.”

I bolted upright.

Dad rushed over and pulled Derick away from me, but Mr. Crawford followed right behind, stepping between my father and the boy I so desperately wanted to kiss.

Derick’s father had never so much as raised his voice while I was around, but now he positively seethed with anger, hatred. He narrowed his brilliant blue eyes, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You know what will happen if you take her, if you walk out this door and create an enemy out of an ally.”

“
Dad
.” Derick glanced at me, concern written in his wide-eyed expression—as well as his tone.

“Let my son go, Joseph. Then walk out of my house without another word. Don’t return until you’ve calmed down, so we can explain this to her properly—or there won’t be a chance for goodbyes.”

This must have been more post-traumatic stress. Whatever happened between them made no sense. Enemies? Allies? Leave me here? Adoptive parents or not, Mr. Crawford had no right to tell my dad to leave me alone here.

“Now is the time?” Dad sighed, slumping his shoulders. “We’re losing her?”

Mr. Crawford nodded.

Tears pooled in the corner of my father’s eyes. “You said we’d have more time with her. You said this wouldn’t happen until…” He tightened his hold on Derick’s arms, glaring. “You. This is your fault.”

“Joseph, this couldn’t be prevented.” Mr. Crawford peeled my Dad’s hands from Derick. “Not unless you locked her away the rest of her life.”

“I know. You’re right.” Dad walked to the bed, pink highlighting his cheeks. “We tried to protect you. We did everything they told us, yet we’ve failed. Don’t forget us, and when whatever all this is passes, promise to visit your mother.”

Dad kissed my forehead and gave me a long, trembling hug, cocooning me with his warmth and protection, with his unwavering love.

I shook my head, crying. I would have preferred screaming, fighting, even Dad cussing and forcing me to go to my room and then throwing away the key. Why did he tell me goodbye? Where was I going? Losing me? “I… I don’t… What’s going on?”

“They’ll explain everything.” He pointed at Derick and then Mr. Crawford with his thumb. “I’ll go get your mother and have her bring some things for you. She’ll want to see you off.”

Dad headed for the door.

“See me off? Dad?” I looked to Derick, but his face was pale and he stared at the ground. He knew something, something he felt guilty about, but something he wasn’t about to share. Not here. Not now.

“I love you, kiddo.” Dad thudded down the stairs, leaving me leaning against Derick’s bed, blanket in a pool at my feet, heart shattering into a million pieces.

Crazy. I’d gone crazy. That was the only explanation for any of this. Maybe it was a dream. I was still asleep, or maybe Derick and Mark hadn’t rescued me from the kidnappers. Maybe I was drugged for talking back so much. That was it. Psycho Number Two drugged me.

Being in the hands of murderers made more sense than my dad saying goodbye.
He wouldn’t give up on me
.
Dad wouldn’t
abandon
me
.

I smacked my face. “Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. None of this is real.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Mr. Crawford said, turning and walking from the room.

My feet were too numb for standing, for chasing after my father or Derick’s to demand an explanation for their weirdness. Dad left me
with
Derick, in his bedroom. What the hell? I shook my head and looked at Derick, and he met my eyes, taking slow, careful steps toward me.

“Derick, why am I not waking up? Why do I keep seeing all these insane things? Why did my dad walk out the door? Why did your dad—?”

He sat on the edge of the bed and reached for my hand. “The second half of my story. I need to tell you now.”