Dark and Twisted Page 8

  “No way. Get it from your partner,” I hiss.

  “Come on, Day, give me a pen.” He jabs me in the shoulder again.

  If I ignore him, it’s just going to get worse, so I dig in my bag and hand him a pen. When he reaches up to take it, I can see that his hand is wrapped in sliver tape. I knew it was Buck. That no good slime ball, I am going to kill him for scaring the crap out of me. What did he use to make his eyes glow? Contacts perhaps. A mask. Okay, calm down Eden hold it together. Buck is on the football team, so that does explain his injury. I let go of the pen and turn in my chair. Buck is using my pen to scratch his head, and for a moment, I’m distracted by the grossness of it.

  “Your hand is hurt,” I state.

  He stops scratching himself, lowers the pen to his ear and starts to dig in his ear with the tip.

  “What’s your issue, Freak?” he asks.

  “How did you hurt it?” I try again.

  “None ya,” he replies.

  “Excuse me?” I say, startled.

  “None ya,” he repeats slowly. “As in none ya business.” He gets up and goes over to Shane’s desk, who looks terrified at being partnered up with him.

  Jerk. It couldn’t be Buck because he couldn’t stay silent this long about it. He would have used it to mock me in some way.

  I don’t have time to worry about Buck anymore because the class begins to move desks. I turn my desk around facing Cardelian’s and do a quick scan of him to see if he has any injuries. When I see that he is injury free, I release the breath I was holding. His notes are setting neatly on the desk in front of him, ready to work. Apparently, he pays attention in class, unlike me. I silently thank the school gods for partnering us up.

  “Hey,” he says with a perfect smile that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

  “Hey.”

  “I heard what happened to you.”

  I’m sure he wants to know what meds I’m on or why I’m such a freak. Two questions I have been asked all day. “Everyone heard what happened to me.” I wait for the questioning and name calling.

  “Are you okay?” He leans closer to me.

  I’m taken back by his question because no one has asked me that. No, I’m not okay. I feel like I’m jumping out of my skin at every noise. I’m questioning my sanity, and I’m accusing people I’ve known my whole life. He pushes his golden curls back giving me a better glimpse at his warm, honey-colored eyes that are filled with concern.

  “I’ll be okay,” I nervously bite at my thumb.

  He reaches out, putting his hand on top of mine, stopping me. A wave of heat runs through him to me. “I believe you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The heat from Mrs. Heart’s kiln has put most of the class to sleep, but the sound of someone playing a game on their phone keeps me from dozing off. I jot down a list of everything I remember about the attacker. There has to be something that I’m missing. I try to remember some small detail I could have missed, but the memory is starting to fade into the back of my mind.

  Tall.

  Thin.

  Dressed in all black.

  Hands of fire.

  Glowing eyes.

  I scratch off the last two sentences. Liv is right, I am acting crazy. I was under stress, and I could have imagined it. I turn to Jaxson and watch as he drags his pencil across the paper so hard that it has begun to rip. I’m about to ask him what’s wrong when I notice his right hand. Everything seems to slow down, and the pieces start to click together. His hand is in his lap and it’s wrapped neatly in white gauze. My mind rewinds back to the woods—tall, thin, and dressed all in black with glowing eyes.

  As if he can hear my thoughts, his head snaps up.

  “How did you hurt your hand?”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” he says sarcastically.

  “How did you hurt it?” I ask again, this time with more force.

  “No wonder you’re so popular. Your manners are impeccable.”

  Blood pounds in my ears as it races through my veins. He grabs his stuff off the table. The bell must have rung because the room empties in a flood of students. Jaxson starts to melt into the crowd, but I’m not about to let him get away that easily. I grab my things and run after him. How did I not see it before? It never once crossed my mind that it could be Jaxson, but now I don’t see how it could be anyone else. I need to know why he did it.

  I catch up with him at his locker. The one right next to mine that he never visits. I’m gasping for air when I reach it. His locker is strangely clean. A perfect line of textbooks sits on the top shelf from tallest to smallest. Not an item out of place, not a dirty shirt from gym class, not a discarded piece of paper—nothing. Strange for a teenage boy, but he’s not normal. He might not even be human. I need answers and I need them now.

  “Your locker is really clean,” I say, trying to slow my heartbeat.

  “Now you’re going to interrogate me about my locker?” He slams the door shut and snaps the lock in place before turning to me. He has an air of superiority that is not there when he’s hunched over his drawings.

  The alarms start again in my head. Danger, run, run. Run!

  “I wasn’t interrogating you. It’s just that I’ve never seen a guy’s locker so clean before.”

  “So you have seen a lot of guys’ lockers before?” He raises his eyebrow.

  My cheeks flare with heat. “No. That’s not what I mean.” I want to sneak away.

  He pushes his hair back, exposing the sharp contours of his face, and his pale blue eyes bore into mine. He reminds me of the vampire lead in the book I just read. Dark, handsome, and dangerously scary. Do vampires have glowing eyes?

  “Would you say that you’ve seen many? Or just one special boy’s locker?” His words are sharp and menacing causing me to blush.

  I step back, trying to put some space between us. He steps closer to me, demanding all of my attention. We’re not talking about lockers anymore, he’s trying to get to me, and it is working.

  “How many lockers, Eden?”

  I drag in a sharp breath because he’s never said my name before, and the way he says it makes it sound like a threat.

  “That is none of your business.” I wrap my arms around myself protectively as if that will somehow shield me from him.

  “Ahhh, so there is one special guy. Let me guess, he’s tall and handsome, with golden locks and dreamy eyes.” He leans against the locker, crossing his legs at the ankles.

  It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about his brother. “You mean Cardelian?” I finally manage to choke out. His eyes darken, and a shiver runs down my spine.

  “Who else would I mean?” he says coldly. The air around him goes colder, seeming to match his mood.

  “I don’t like him. I mean, I like him, but not like that. Why do you even care?” Heat spreads down my neck. How did we get on this topic?

  “You could say that I’m fiercely protective over what is mine,” he growls. A promise and a threat, all at the same time. “After all, Cardelian is my brother,” he leans closer to me.

  The strong smell of rain and pine fill my senses. Normal boys don’t smell like this. He is so much taller than me. He slams his hand on the locker, jarring me. I jump, a small squeak sneaking out of my mouth. The halls have emptied, and we are alone. No witnesses.

  “You have the wrong idea. We’re just friends, probably not even that. I’m sure that he doesn’t even know I exist,” I say with a nervous laugh.

  “Somehow I doubt that.” His voice is dangerous and perfect at the same time.

  I am terrified, but there is a small part of me that is not. I straighten up. “Stop changing the subject,” I bark, gaining back my nerve. “Where were you last night?” I demand.

  He turns, bracing his hands on the locker behind me, trapping me. I want to run and scream as badly as I want to stay and feel him move closer, pressing me against the locker as cold rolls off him.

  “I was out taking a walk.”
/>
  “Alone?” I swallow hard, more afraid of the answer than him. I want him to say no, I need him to have an alibi—something to clear him of all charges. I want him to kiss me. If he is an alien, I hope he can’t read minds.

  A cocky grin splits across his face, and he tugs one of the silver studs into his mouth, drawing my attention to his lips. They are perfect lips, ones that any girl would die for—full and pink—and I want to feel them pressed against my own.

  “I’m always alone.”

  My heart slams into my chest. “Where?” I lick my parched lips.

  He leans his head down so that his lips brush the bottom of my ear, and his cold breath washes down my neck, sending uncontrollable shivers across my skin.

  “I was in the woods behind your house.”

  “What’s going on here?” Cardelian asks, his warm voice chasing away the cold.

  Jaxson lets out a breath, and it nips at my skin. Standing up just slightly, he smiles at me and answers Cardelian. “Nothing is going on here, brother.”

  He turns, blocking Cardelian from my view, but I can feel the tension in the air.

  “Really?” He doesn’t sound as if he believes him, and there is alarm in his voice.

  “Don’t believe me? Ask Eden.”

  He steps aside, and I can breathe again.

  “Eden?” Caredlain brow is furrowed in worry.

  I should tell him that Jaxson practically admitted that he attacked me, but he didn’t actually say the words. “Everything is fine.” I finally say, stepping forward and glancing at Jaxson as he stares at Cardelian with eyes like ice.

  “See,” Jaxson says.

  “Okay.” Cardelian nods his head, but I can tell he isn’t satisfied.

  “I’ll see you around, Ace,” Jaxson says, pushing past me and Cardelian and leaving us alone.

  When Jaxson is out of earshot Cardelian says, “Eden you need to be careful.”

  “Why?”

  “Eden, please just be careful.”

  “Because of Jaxson?”

  He doesn’t answer, he will not look me in the eye, and I want to scream at the mystery that surrounds his brother. What is Cardelian protecting Jaxson from?

  “Eden it’s complicated.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I stare at the shadows on my bedroom walls. Why is Cardelian trying to protect him? “It’s complicated.” His words bounce around my skull with Jaxson’s, “I was in the woods behind your house.” I shiver and pull the blanket tighter around me. There could be a million explanations as to why his hand is hurt. For instance, he could have burned it using his hair straightener because he must spend a lot of time to get it to fall perfectly in his eyes the way it does. Nobody wakes up with hair that perfect.

  Why am I trying to make excuses for him? He practically admitted it to me that he did it. What is wrong with me? Jaxson could be out there right now, stalking some other poor girl. It will be entirely my fault if she gets hurt.

  I get out of bed and walk over to the window, knowing Jaxson could be out there now, watching me. ‘I was in the woods behind your house.’ I tug the curtains shut, knowing what I have to do. I will not be that stupid girl. The right thing has to be done. I go downstairs, each step a reminder that this is the right thing to do. By the time I get to the bottom of the stairs, I’m not entirely convinced it is. My palms are sweating as I grip the phone, pressing it hard to my ear. It rings three times before he answers.

  “Hello,” he practically shouts.

  I hesitate because, when I tell him what Jaxson said, there is no going back.

  “Hello?” he says again, this time sounding annoyed.

  “Umm. Hello, Officer Benson, this is Eden Day.”

  “Eden. Is everything okay? Is Essie okay?”

  I wrinkle my nose. Why does he want to know about my aunt? “Yes, she’s fine. I called because I think I know who attacked me.” The receiver is silent for a moment, and then I hear the shuffle of paper.

  “Okay, go ahead.”

  I take a deep breath and tell him everything, from the hurt hand to Jaxson telling me he was outside my house yesterday. When I’m finished, Benson sighs.

  “I will check this out, Eden, but it is unlikely it is him. It sounds like he was just trying to get a rise out of you. This might not be the only joke. This is a small town and word is going to get around about your claims.”

  I choke out a laugh. He still doesn’t believe me.

  “Eden, if he does show up at your house, I want you to call me right away. Do you understand?”

  I hang up the phone without answering him.

  Essie shuffles into the kitchen with her arms full of grocery bags. Her hair is frizzy and damp from the rain. “Who was that?”

  “Wrong number,” I say. “Is there any more bags in the car?”

  “Only the bread and eggs.”

  “I will get them.” I need to get out of here. I feel like the room is closing in on me. Why doesn’t anyone believe me? I slip on rubber boots and dart out the door. By the time I reach the car, I’m soaking wet. Essie left the headlights on and the driver’s door open, and the rain pours into it. I slide into the passenger’s side reaching over to take the keys out of the ignition.

  As soon as I click the lights off, I see Jaxon, quickly I turn them back on, illuminating the space in front of the car. The light glares off him, making it almost impossible to see his features, but I know it’s him. His eyes seem to glow a light blue, making my heart stops as I stare, and my body shakes from a mixture of fear and cold. I blink several times, and his eyes are perfectly normal. I need to stop this! I’m not about to let him intimidate me anymore.

  I turn the lights off, get out of the car, and slam the door shut behind me. I can no longer see him. It’s as if he has become part of the night. I squint, searching for him. “Jaxson, are you out here?” I whisper.

  I step forward, bumping into him, and let out a yelp. Jaxson stands toe to toe with me. I stumble backwards, but he reaches out and grips my elbow, which causes another squeak to slip from my mouth.

  “Careful, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” he says in a foreboding tone.

  I yank my arm free from his grasp, slipping as I do, but he doesn’t help me this time. My boots are too big on my feet and are quickly filling with water.

  “I called the police,” I say when I regain my balance. Telling him this is like a weapon in my hands that I can use against him.

  Leaning against the car, he smiles. “I figured you would.” The rain makes his skin glisten like oil, the water beads off the tips of his hair and long eyelashes, and he looks perfect, dark, sexy, and soaking wet. My stomach flips at the sight of him. I’m sure I look like a drowned rat with frizzy hair, but I don’t care because I don’t like him. I can’t like him. Liking a boy that scares me is crazy, and I’m not crazy.

  “They said to call them if you showed up,” I say taking a step away from him. Angling myself closer to the house, so I have a better chance of getting away if I need to.

  “So call them.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out his cell phone, holding it out for me.

  I contemplate taking it and calling, but wouldn’t they question why I was using his phone? That would make me look like a crazy girl with a crush on a boy and trying to get attention. He could spin the story to benefit him and clear his name.

  Oh, he is sneaky. I steal a glance behind me, seeing the blue light of the TV illuminating the window.

  “She cannot hear you,” he says.

  Panic crashes through my mind, sounding alarms.

  “If you scream that is.” He watches me with a cold, calculated look.

  I swallow hard. “Why are you here?”

  He looks me over as if he is trying to decide something important. Finally, he answers, “I thought I owed you an explanation.”

  “What did you do Friday night?”

  “Before or after I was in the woods behind your house,” he says mockingly. In one swi
ft movement, he pushes off the car and is in front of me. Faster than a human.

  “Don’t come any closer,” I warn. My teeth clatter together.

  An amused look spreads across his face. “All right, Ace, if that is what you want.”

  “How did you hurt your hand?”

  He pushes back his wet hair, contemplating the question. “I burnt it.”

  “I don’t believe you.” I have to force my voice to be steady.

  “Believe what you want, but it’s the truth. I was making tea and spilled hot water on myself.” He holds up his right hand, which is no longer bandaged, his palm is red with white blisters.

  Ouch. I cringe at the sight.

  “You didn’t attack me,” I murmur with a mixture of relief and aggravation. “Who could it have been then?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” he says in a sarcastic tone.

  “What were you doing in the woods?”

  He rubs the back of his injured hand across his chin. “Let’s just say I was curious.”

  “Curious? What does that even mean?” I take a step closer. The rain has slowed to a mist, and where it touches the ground, thin fog rises and swirls around our feet.

  “I heard rumors that you and your aunt are crazy, the Boo Radley of Copake Falls, and I wanted to see for myself.”

  I’m both impressed by his literary pun and insulted. “And?” I ask sharply.

  He looks over my shoulder, and I know what he sees. The pie tin lined fenced and the odd Celtic statues that decorate the lawn. I’m just grateful that he cannot see into the house.

  “And I think most of them are narrowminded. Like many people, they’re afraid of anything different.”

  I’m happy he doesn’t think I’m a whack job like everyone else, but I am not sure I believe him. We are the Boo Radley of Copake Falls. If a few statues and pie tins around the yard doesn’t make him see that, then the aluminum foiled ceiling and Essie’s alien posters that decorate the living room walls will.

  “Would you like to come in?” I ask, gesturing over my shoulder to the house.

  He raises his brow at me. “Look, Ace, you’re a nice girl, but I don’t like you like that.”