Pete leaned back in the window. “You know, if you hadn’t of been such a royal ass this whole time, then this mission would’ve been like taking candy from a baby . . . and I would’ve been out of here in a couple of weeks max.”
What?!
Ranger maniacally laughed from the driver’s seat, a position I was sure he was well acquainted with. “Couldn’t make it too easy for you, now could I? Where’s the sport in that? We got to see if you can live up to that famous last name.”
Pete cursed, then crunched gravel until he hit sidewalk, the sound of mocking laughter trailing him.
Go time! I wormed out from under the truck. Bloody heck! How was I gonna get back inside without being seen?
I crawled back around the minivan and scrambled to my feet. The timing was just right again because the couple was returning. So I hopped on over while Ranger’s attention was focused on the sliding door, making it back to the shadows clinging to the side of the building. Now what? My heart was thrashing against my ribs, my mind tumbling around the disturbing new info I’d learned. It all intermingled with my exit strategy, and the possibility of my father yelling me to death when I finally returned home.
I stopped to take some deep breaths. Could a seventeen-year-old die of a heart attack? Must. Calm. Down. Maybe I could just get back in through the same door? Even though I knew it would automatically lock behind me, I yanked on the doorknob, hoping it would just magically open. Dang it! I pounded on the door to no success. The beating on my palms would feel like gnat stings compared to what Ranger would do to me if he saw me skulking around in the shadows spying on them.
And then it hit me—I wouldn’t sneak around anymore. I would pretend to run away. They’d been expecting me to do that all night, so I would actually fulfill their expectations. So I hustled to the back of the building and started down the back alley, heading for the street that ran in front of the pharmacy. Hopefully, they’d spot me and put another halt to my “escape attempt” and drive me home. Pete had plenty of time to search the store and would probably be headed out any second to report back to Mr. In-Charge.
As I stumbled along the depressing strip of dirt, I thought how bizarre it was to find myself in another lonely, bleak alley. It was like my night was on constant repeat: two birthday cakes with corresponding wishes, two guys’ laps, and two kidnapping attempts followed by my bungled attempts at escape. Felt like I’d landed in an episode of The Twilight Zone.
The thunder of an engine roaring to life followed closely by wheels peeling off pavement let me know I was found out. I ran and made a hard right at the end of the alley, hustling over to the main street so they could see me. Aw man! My heart sank to my dusty boots. I got to the street just in time to see the electric-red taillights of their Hummer skim through the yellow light . . . and keep on going, driving way too fast to be able to see me.
And then I realized—with another hard jolt—that they were not looking for me. I was stranded again. And just like that, I watched them evaporate into the night . . . like a wisp of smoke from one of my birthday candles.
10
IT WAS ALL A BAD DREAM
When I regained consciousness the next day, I knew it was late because the birds had ceased chirping, and the shadows in my room had rearranged themselves in all the wrong places. I peeked out from under my comforter and immediately retreated, like a turtle back into its shell.
I was battered, bruised, and confused. It felt like I’d just been through an epic war, had a secret midnight encounter with the devil, or quite possibly a tête-à-tête with the man-of-my-dreams. The possibility of all three occurences happening in one night seemed too much for one mere mortal to bear. My mind was reeling.
Had I fallen through the magic rabbit hole only to reemerge a few hours later in my bed?
I could barely lift the covers. If it weren’t for an achingly full bladder, I would’ve succumbed to the exhaustion that held me hostage to my bed. I finally managed to rouse myself into upright position. Dag nab! Amid all my various aches and pains, the two stuffed sausages I called feet required my immediate attention. I cautiously drew them out to inspect the damage. They could’ve passed for nine-months pregnant. And the blisters would’ve been curling my toes, if I could’ve moved them.
I threw my legs over the side of the bed and realized I was sore in places I didn’t even know existed. With fascinated horror, I inspected the large array of scratches and bruises decorating my arms. They also felt leaden as if I’d been boxing against heavyweights all night. My mind automatically flashed to Ranger’s hateful face.
Even though I didn’t believe in the power of my sixth sense as strongly as Mama did, I had to admit: he had my internal alarm bells ringing. I could tell he had more than just a passing dislike for me, like when two people meet and their chemistry doesn’t mesh. Somehow, it was personal, his hate. I could feel it. He seemed like some kind of sinister, larger-than-life character right up there with Voldemort, Dracula, and Darth Vador. Even his handsome face seemed a grotesque masking of an evil villain.
A tremor shook me as I remembered the brute force he had used to subdue me, the stinging backhand I received as payback. His face exposed a barely veiled pleasure when I cried out in pain. I felt lucky a tattoo of contusions was the only physical reminder left of our encounter. That, and the ongoing reel of bad memories since the day we met, had me feeling like I was living in a nightmare.
But intermingled with the slides depicting horror, were images of a different genre. Pete’s otherworldly face filled my vision. Even though I was unaccountably angry with him for leaving me in the lurch, an involuntary smile curved my lips at the memory of his mouth hovering close to mine. My face burned at the memory, but my body heated in a whole different way.
The thought of him nearly kissing me nearly took me to my knees. I recalled the smell of his skin, the way I felt with his arms wrapped around me, and a crushing wave of desire overcame me. I’d never felt anything like this. Heady stuff. I could see how desire could strike down the most rational of human beings with bouts of insanity. I gave myself a mental shake; had to keep in mind who he was running with—wolves ran in packs.
As I limped across my child-size bedroom, a glint of sapphire caught my eye. It was the jacket Pete loaned me last night . . . well, gifted me, since I wouldn’t see him again to return it. My hand clutched at my chest—it was physically painful to realize that was a likely possibility; my whole being repelled the idea I would never lay eyes on him again. It was an entirely automatic response, like my immune system fighting off a viral invasion.
I had to squash these feelings like a bug. They were unhealthy and unuseful to me. I’d been taught to focus on reality. And my reality was school was tomorrow. And I had a very busy day ahead of me preparing for that and trying to convince Mikey that cowboy boots and a cape did not constitute appropriate school attire.
It required a lot of energy to go against him—energy I didn’t have today. Not to mention the fact that I had to celebrate my birthday. Again. It was the last thing I wanted to do (right behind going for a nice long walk), but it would disappoint the boys not to celebrate with me.
It seemed especially off to me in light of last night’s bizarre events. It was like I’d woken up an entirely different person, who was sucked back in time to her old life. Maybe it was being in the presenc of their disturbing mix of good looks and charisma. Or knowing something was going on that somehow involved me. Something had changed. I wasn’t exactly sure what, but I kinda felt as though I’d been sleepwalking for the past couple of years.