W\\CKED

Girl in the Woods

[Jul]

I made my way carefully along the narrow path through the woods that bordered Byram beach, following Kaydrien and Sanny, who were speaking in low voices but not low enough for me to miss when their conversation shifted to Dae. 

"I'm surprised he didn't react to her scar," Sanny said. "Most people stare the first time they see it."

"Why doesn't she get it fixed?" Kay asked, not in a mean way but...it was in Kay's nature to notice people's appearances, so I knew the scar bothered him.

"She's had it done three times."

"An assessment by a surgeon?"

"Surgery."

Kay's steps faltered. The path was dark, the only visible light filtering through the trees ahead from the lot where the band trailers were parked. "It didn't work?"

"They took care of it, each time. Fixed it up, unrolled the bandages, her face was... She's so gorgeous, and suddenly everyone could see that. Thing is, the day after the bandages came off, it came back. Exactly the same. Every time."

"Oh damn, that's bizarre."

"It's like her skin wants everyone to know she's been damaged. Like it wants the whole damn world to know..." She fell silent.

That she was almost murdered. Sanny couldn't say it out loud. I couldn't, either. I could barely think it without feelings I didn't want rushing through me, memories I didn't want to see flashing across my vision — Mom, laying on the living room floor; my big brother Jordan, head lowered as he cradled Mom's body; a shadowy figure looming behind him, reaching out for him, saying words, terrible words I didn't want to hear—

Panic shot through my body, wrapping so tightly around my chest that I couldn't breathe, my thoughts spinning so hard that I feared I would fall if I tried to speak. Caught in the grip of a familiar terror, I reached out for the one thing that could bring me calm. My fingers wrapped around the onyx pendant, my palm pressing so hard into the edges of the uncut stone that I felt the sting of pain. I stood still and silent, clinging to that stone, begging the truth to go away, promising to never look again until at last the spinning ebbed.

"Juliet? You okay?" Sanny asked. Both she and Kay stood in front of me. "Is something wrong?"

I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted it to go away. "I just stumbled. I had to stop to get my balance. I'm fine now."

Sanny looked doubtful. "You sure?"

"I'm okay, really." I had to shove the words out of my mouth. "We should keep going. Ken could catch up any minute."

Sanny watched me from over her shoulder as we walked single-file down the narrowing path. I tried my best to act normal. "Kay, are you sure the band won't mind us bothering them?"

Kay instantly warmed to the topic. "They didn't mind when I hung out with them last week. What musician can resist a boy who pays for all the drinks?"

"You're not old enough to buy anyone a drink," Sanny said.

"The fact that the step-ass owns a chain of nightclubs makes getting a drink when I want one pretty damn easy."

They both came to a stop. Past Sanny's shoulder, I could see where the trees gave way to a fenced-in parking lot. A stranger was leaning against the metal gate, his face hidden by the hood of a cardinal red jacket, his hands jammed into the pockets.

A neutral smile graced Kay's lips. "I'm Max's friend. He said the gate would be unlocked."

The stranger didn't say anything. His hood was pointed straight at me. As I stared into that dark abyss, I wondered if I looked as unapproachable in my hiding place as he did in his. There was a glimmer, faint but certain, inside the darkness—two pools of white, rippling like the reflection of stars on an uneasy ocean.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Sanny demanded.

It was only then I realized the stranger had moved. He was standing directly in front of me on the narrow path.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "Am I in your way?"

His gloved fingers brushed my forehead, pushing the rim of my hood back from my face. I inched away, bumping against a tree. He moved in sync with me, as if he expected exactly that reaction. The soft leather of his glove brushed the scar on my cheek. I flinched.

He cupped my chin as he leaned closer. "You don't belong here." His voice was husky, low, like the first growl a dog gives when it senses danger. But there was something else in his tone, something that made my chest tighten so much I couldn't breathe. "You don't belong to—"

My bodyguard shoved the stranger away from me, ramming him against a tree. Anyone would have been terrified to have a hulk like that pressing into them, his eyes shining with a threat his body could clearly back up. The stranger, however, seemed oddly relaxed.

"Don't move." Ken used his free hand to press the ear cuff he was wearing. "Both girls found. Assessing situation." He glared at the perpetrator. "What's your name?"

The stranger said nothing.

After a long moment, Ken's grip relaxed. "I'm not the police. I can't force you to answer my questions. But understand this: It's my job to protect the girl you were harassing. If you harass her again, I'll break your arm. Understand?"

"Sorry," the stranger said. I was surprised by how normal he sounded, like an ordinary teenager. "I bumped into her by accident. She almost fell, so I tried to catch her. Sorry if I scared anyone."

The bodyguard let him go. "Get out of here."

He passed me as he went, his elbow brushing the sleeve of my cloak.

"Where were you going?" Ken snapped at me.

"To meet the band. It was my idea, not Juliet's," Sanny piped up.

"You weren't supposed to leave the beach," Ken said, still looking at me. "That's the second time you broke the rules."

Sanny rolled her eyes. "So we'll go back to the beach and forget the band."

"I'm taking you girls home."

"But you can't—" Sanny protested.

"I have direct orders to bring you in." He took me by the elbow. "Let's go."

"Wait a sec!" Sanny fell into step behind us. "You're going to be in as much trouble as us when we get back! You sure you don't wanna put off the inevitable for one more hour? Thirty minutes? Ten...?"

It didn't matter what she said. For my father's employees, a direct order was something you never disobeyed—especially if you knew your job was on the line, which Ken's probably was.

The whole ride home, I couldn't get the hooded figure out of my mind. Who was he, the stranger whose eyes were firmament from the heavens? Why did he frighten me even now, when I had my father's bodyguard by my side and the might of the entire Blythe Security organization to back me up?

It was then that I realized what I sensed in the stranger's voice, buried beneath the threatening edge of his tone: it was the warm, wet timbre of desire.