Discern (18 page)

“No, and I’m sure you have lots of questions.”

“Can I ask them or will it cause more trouble?”

“Yes, you can, and I’ll try to answer them as truthfully as possible.”

“Should I be afraid?” I gulped.

He appeared hurt by my question. “Not of me.”

“Okay.”

“Can you get away tonight after the event?”

I was thrilled and terrified. We were going to get another chance to be together again, but at what cost. “Yeah.”

“I’ll meet you right here afterward,” he smiled.

“Okay, see you then,” I smiled back. He ran his finger along my hand. My eyes closed to take in the feeling of his touch, feeling so torn—more torn than I ever had. My eyes opened back up.

“Please don’t be scared,” he whispered. “I would never hurt you.”

“For some reason, I truly believe that,” I admitted. Never once had he ever laid a hand on me, except for the accidental burning, but I couldn’t explain that phenomenon just yet.

“By the way, you look amazing tonight, as always. Gold brings out the beauty of your soft blue eyes,” he smiled.

“Thanks,” I blushed as we made our way back inside.

I sat down at the table next to my father. “You’re just in time,” he whispered.

“Great,” I mumbled, not really paying attention.

“Are you sure that handsome, dark haired man is just your teacher?” he asked suspiciously.

“What dark haired man?”

“The man you left with,” he said puzzled.

“He has blond hair, Dad.” I rolled my eyes. “And, yes, he’s my teacher.”

“That wasn’t blond hair I saw.” Creases formed on his forehead.

“Andrew has blond hair and green eyes,” I huffed, irritated. I had spent more time with Andrew than he had and was perfectly aware of his appearance.

“That’s him, right?” He nodded in Andrew’s direction.

“Yes, it is.”

“He has black hair and dark eyes,” my father insisted.

My face dropped as I wondered if I had really been delusional this whole time. But Andrew had just agreed to explain everything and admitted I had not been hallucinating. “Okay,” I breathed.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

The main hall quickly filled with the sound of clapping. I rose from my seat and joined in. Knots were in the pit of my stomach as I searched the room and found Andrew standing and looking in my direction. He smiled, but I couldn’t. I was more confused than ever. My father politely held out the seat before taking his.

Mr. Walsh introduced the speaker as Mr. Alec Alexander, which happened to be Andrew’s last name also. Alec’s voice was sharp and piercing. He was exceptionally handsome, as all the women had gushed about earlier at the salon. He and Andrew almost looked like brothers, besides the noticeable difference in shades of hair color. Everyone’s attention was focused on him.

My eyes darted back and forth between Andrew and Alec, wondering if they were related. They both shared a lemon yellow glow radiating from their bodies. My body uncontrollably shuttered as a mixture of intrigue and fear filled my thoughts.

“What color is his hair?” I asked, leaning in to my father.

“Why?”

“Just answer,” I hissed.

“Blond,” he answered, shaking his head.

“Okay.”

My stomach knotted—a black haired man with piercing, light green eyes stood on stage. More questions were beginning to form, but would they be answered—unsure if I had the courage to be alone with Andrew.

My eyes flickered in horror toward the speaker. “One day you shall all be in our control,” he shouted. Everyone applauded. My hands couldn’t share in the action. I wasn’t sure if I had heard him correctly. My attention was too focused on Andrew, so I must have misunderstood.

“None of you shall see your fate, until it is too late,” Alec, the speaker shouted. Once again the room filled with the sound of clapping. I looked over at my father. He too was sharing in the joy with all of the others.

“Dad?” I whispered.

“What, Haley?” he asked, seemingly irritated.

“What did he just say?”

“He said all of you shall see the future in a different perspective and be able to succeed with a few of my simple tips,” my father repeated.

“Oh, I guess I heard him wrong.” I was confident that I had heard him say something else, but I feared maybe I was just imaging things after all.

“Is something wrong, sweetie?” he asked concerned.

“No, I’m fine,” I murmured.

The noise of clapping filled the room, once again, ending the speaker’s speech. Andrew flashed a smile in my direction sending conflicting emotions within. I leaned toward my father and whispered. “I hate to leave, but I have something to tend to. I’m sure Evelyn would love to join you, as she has been eyeing our table,” I mentioned.

He smiled. “You be careful and call me later to let me know you’re okay. Whatever you’re doing, just be safe,” he cautioned.

“I’m always safe, Dad,” I smiled, nervously sliding out of my seat.

Braden‘s best friend, Keith Hamilton, was sitting two tables over. He thankfully wasn’t looking in my direction as I made my way to the exit. I was relieved he hadn’t noticed me. I picked up the pace and pushed the outside door open.

Andrew was waiting with a smile on his face.

“That was close!” I gasped.

“What happened?”

“My ex’s best friend was there, and I almost thought he saw me.”

“What would happen if he did?” he asked curiously.

“He would’ve informed my ex of my return home, which would cause major problems.”

“You shouldn’t have to run from your ex. Is there anything I can do to make it easier for you?”

My thoughts flashed to two evenings ago, and I shuttered at the thought of Braden being involved in such an unfair fight. “No, believe me, he would instigate a fight and end up…” I stopped, fearing I would upset Andrew.

“I don’t go around hurting people on purpose.”

“He would definitely try to provoke you,” I warned.

“That wouldn’t be a problem unless he did something to you.”

“So where are we off to?” I asked, desiring to speak of lighter matters.

“Where would you like go?”

“Anywhere but here.”

“To my house?”

“Okay,” I agreed nervously.

“Wait here,” he instructed and disappeared into the darkness.

9

Divulge

Seconds later, his shiny, sports car pulled up. He opened the door, and I slid inside. I buckled my seat belt, and he did as well. I smiled. “You remembered.”

“I promised I would from now on,” he nodded as he stepped on the gas.

The lights of the country club twinkled one last time before darkness overtook them, as I glanced in the side mirror—the safety of humanity was now gone. In any other situation, I would have been nervous about being alone with such an alluring man, but other thoughts wreaked havoc on my nerves.

Our eyes would occasionally meet.

“I hope you don’t get the wrong idea by my inviting you to my house.” He broke the silence.

“Normally, I might, but not tonight,” I said softly, staring at his blond hair, knowing I was not imagining it.

“You can ask any question that you desire,” he offered, sighing heavily.

“What color is your hair?”

A strange expression spread across his face. “Umm… what color do you see?”

“I see a golden blond,” I answered, lightly biting my lower lip.

“My hair is black,” he said.

“I see a lot of things that aren’t right.”

“What color are my eyes?”

“Green, a sparkling emerald green,” I said, staring out the window afraid to look at him.

“They’re brown,” he murmured.

“What’s wrong with me?” I sighed, feeling tears begin to well.

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” he whispered.

His expression was confused, but seemingly relieved. “Please don’t disagree, there’s something definitely wrong with me.”

“No what you’re seeing is real—everything you saw was real,” he disclosed.

“How can that be?”

“You’re seeing my original form,” he explained in a low voice.

“Umm...okay,” I muttered, completely confused.

“I’ll explain, just not yet.”

“Okay,” I agreed. There was another nagging question that kept entering my thoughts. I just wondered if I did ask it, would he even answer, but I had to know. “Are the men from the diner dead?” I asked nervously.

“I told you, you don’t want to know all the details,” he explained, anguish upon his face.

“Is the waitress all right?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t remember a thing.” His voice was flat.

“Why do I?”

“Because I trust you,” he breathed.

We slowly pulled into the driveway of a large two-story red brick home in one of
Boulder
’s prominent neighborhoods. He closed the garage door, and I slid out of the car. I followed close behind, scanning the room as we walked up a short flight of carpeted stairs leading in to a large kitchen area.

The subtle fragrance of his cologne filled the entire house. A black leather sofa sat against the back wall of the living room. A large flat screen television hung on the opposing wall. Only wooden blinds adorned the windows, with no curtains or drapes. The place was immaculately clean and scarcely decorated. It appeared to be barely lived in, if at all.

The walls were primarily bare with the exception of one lone painting that hung above his couch. The colors were a brilliant orange, yellow and red, which resembled fire destroying a stone city, similar to those in Ancient Greece or
Rome
. He carefully watched as I studied the picture.

“It was a gift,” he said nervously.

I sighed heavily. “Sorry, my face gives everything away.”

“Its okay, that’s one of your quirks I like,” he smiled.

“It can be dangerous sometimes,” I immediately regretted saying dangerous.

“I can see that,” he grinned.

He took a seat on the couch. I shifted my gown so I could take a seat at the very end of the same couch. He watched me carefully. I feared what might be discussed this evening.

“I know you have many questions,” he sighed.

“How were you able to fight off those three large men?” I asked, starting off with the basics before jumping to any conclusions.

“I’m a skilled fighter.”

“No one is that skilled. That was straight out of an action movie,” I frowned, fearing he would only divulge as little as possible.

“I am that skilled,” he insisted softly.

“How?”

“I was taught how to fight since birth.”

My thoughts flashed back to that night at the diner. “Why was your skin glowing orange and so hot that it burned my hand?” I asked cautiously.

“That’s a little tougher to answer.”

The zipper on my gown was beginning to irritate my skin. I lightly shifted my body trying to adjust myself without him noticing. But he did.

“Everything okay?” he asked, grinning slightly.

“My dress itches.”

“I have some extra clothing if you would like to change?” he offered.

“I doubt any of it will fit.”

“They might be loose, but they won’t itch.”

The thought of undressing in his house, even for a few seconds, was a little unnerving, but the dress had become way too uncomfortable. “Sure,” I smiled.

He motioned for me to follow him up the stairs. I nervously entered what I assumed to be his bedroom. There was an oversized bed with a simple black comforter. The dresser and chest were both dark wood with silver handles and no intricate design. He pulled open a drawer on his dresser. “Pick out whatever you like,” he gestured to the neatly folded shirts.

I walked over and picked up one of the shirts and a pair of black sweats. “You can change in there,” he pointed to the opposite side of the room. My stomach knotted as I slowly made my way to the bathroom, carefully shutting and locking the door.

I unzipped the back of my dress, letting it fall to the floor, along with my pantyhose. The soft fabric of the sweatpants warmed the chill off my legs. I slipped the gray t-shirt over my head. Both loosely hung from my body.

My soft curls gently fell onto my back as I pulled the pins from my hair. I ran my fingers through, untangling any knots. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.

There he sat upon his bed, perfectly sculpted features covering every inch of his body. It was hard to keep my eyes off his muscular arms with the black sleeveless shirt he chose to wear. “Feel better?” he smiled.