Hidden Deep (8 page)

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Authors: Amy Patrick

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Urban, #Fairy Tales; Folk Tales; Legends & Mythology

BOOK: Hidden Deep
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“Ryann, can you stand?” He released me. “There you go. Safe and sound on solid ground.”

He was right. I looked down at the green grass beneath my feet then up at our surroundings. The daylight was almost gone. The red and gold of sunset had faded into gray streaks low in the sky. A shiver worked its way through my body.

“Are you all right?” Lad pulled me close again. Heat radiated through his paper-thin shirt, bathing me in warmth everywhere he touched me.

“Yes. Wow. You’re really, really warm.”

He held me away from him at arm’s length. “Sorry. Am I making you hot?”

An involuntary giggle slipped past my lips.
Yes.
“It feels good. I like warm. Thank you,” I said. “And thank you for saving my life. I don’t even care that you were following me. You showed up when it mattered. But… you’ve
got
to tell me what’s going on. I mean, this is not normal stuff here.”

Now that we were safe, I wasn’t giving up until I got the answers to the questions I’d carried around for the past few days… for years actually. And now I had some new ones—why he had kept his distance and
how
he could do the things he’d done today.

Lad’s face contorted, making him look tortured, like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the right words.

How could I get him to open up to me? I was so afraid he’d disappear into the woods again, leaving me with more questions than answers. “You said you
wanted
to talk to me, to see me again, too?” I prodded.

He let out a breath. “I did, I do. I’m not happy you were in danger today, but in a way I’m relieved something happened to force my hand. I didn’t know how much longer I could go on just watching without going to you… being near you…” His voice drifted as his fingers brushed the outside of mine.

I took his hand in both of mine and ran my fingertips lightly across his palm. He shivered. Tilting my head back to look up into his face, I said, “I’m really,
really
happy to see you. I have so much to ask you.”

Lad’s breathing changed. It was getting quicker, shallower. He withdrew his hand and turned away, gazing back toward the tree line. He swallowed hard then turned and met my eyes again.

“I know you have questions. I don’t blame you. I missed you, too, Ryann, but this—” He gestured back and forth between us. “—isn’t possible. I come from a very private… group. You can’t understand how serious they are about that. All contact with outsiders is forbidden. In fact, you’re the only one I’ve ever really spoken to.”

Chapter Eight
Alien Girls from the Planet Blind and Stupid

 

 

“I don’t understand,” I said.

He exhaled a harsh breath that was almost a laugh. “I’m sure you don’t. I’ve basically just admitted to being a stalker from a
very
strange family.”

“No. I mean, how is it possible that you’ve never spoken to anyone but me outside of your own family?”

“Well, not only my family. There’s a whole… community I live with. The simple answer is—we don’t talk to outsiders.”

I narrowed my eyes, shaking my head in confusion. “But that can’t be true. You go into town sometimes—to the library.”

“Yes. Not a lot of chatter there. The librarian gave up trying to talk to me years ago. The fact I even go into town at all would cause more trouble than you can imagine if my father found out. Especially now. He’s even worse than usual about it.”

“So why do you risk going?”

“Well, I’ve got to have books.” His tone suggested the slowest of the slow should already understand that. “I told you—after I met you all those years ago, I went back and watched you in the yard of that house. I was working up the courage to approach you, trying to figure out how to somehow lure you back into the woods, so I could… I don’t know, get to know you, see you up close again. Then, I didn’t see you for a long time.”

I thought back to the weeks following my rescue from the woods. “I was always trying to find you again—every time we came over to Grandma Neena’s house, I tried to sneak away to the woods, but someone would stop me. They kept telling me you weren’t real. My dad put deadbolt locks near the top of Grandma’s doors. After I figured out to pull a chair over and stand on it to get them unlocked, we stopped visiting Grandma here. She came over to our house in town instead for… I don’t know… years, I guess.”

“Ah, I see. After a few weeks, I feared you weren’t coming back here. That’s when I went into town for the first time, but I had no real plan, no idea how to actually find you. And there were so many other people. I was amazed. I watched people. One day I spotted a mother and two children pulling books in a wagon on the sidewalk. I followed them into a building, and it was wonderful inside—so many books. I started going every few days to read. And to listen. I listened all the time. Listening to conversations there, together with what I’d read, I gradually learned to speak… the way you do.”

Lad glanced over at me and then away again with a shaky laugh, like he couldn’t quite believe he’d told me all that.

“You mean your family speaks a different language?”

He pressed his lips together, darting his eyes down and to the side, apparently thinking of how to explain. “We communicate… differently. I learned to speak the way you do for the same reason I learned to read the books and newspapers and magazines at the library. I wanted to understand your people… so I could someday talk to
you
.” He gave me a tentative smile.

A hot wave passed through me, a feeling of rightness, of something being completed. I was supposed to be here—to be with him. Our meeting again hadn’t been an accident. “If I’d known you were actually looking for me, waiting for me—wow—I probably would’ve ridden out here on my little bike, with or without the training wheels. So then… what happened? Where have you been the past few days?”

“I’ve told you. I
couldn’t
see you again. I’m not seven years old anymore, Ryann. I understand now it doesn’t work. You ask questions I can’t answer.”

“Why not? Why can’t you? Lad, try me. It’s okay—I won’t be mad or anything,” I said.

A bemused expression lifted his face. “Mad about what?”

“Whatever you tell me. I mean, I won’t be mad if you and your people are… you know…”

“What? If my people are what?” The amusement was gone. He was tense, his eyes widening. This wasn’t going well. He was supposed to be getting more comfortable about opening up to me, not feeling more threatened. Lad stared at me, waiting.

“If your people are… squatters.” I rushed through the last word, squinting, waiting for his reaction.

“Squatters?” He laughed, and all traces of concern left his face. “What are squatters?”

“You know, people who live on someone else’s land without permission. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I won’t tell my grandma, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, even if she knew—she’s very generous.”

His head fell back, and his laughter rang through the woods. “We’re not…” His voice strained with unfinished laughter. “…squatters.”

“Well, what? Some kind of survivalists? A cult?”

“No, Ryann. We’re not a cult.” Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes now from the exertion of his laughter.

I was growing impatient and starting to feel very silly. Clearly I had grossly misread the situation. “What then? What?”

He stopped laughing, but he still seemed entertained. Lad took my hands again and rubbed the pads of his thumbs gently over my knuckles, making my skin tingle with pleasure. He pulled me closer to him, and I was bathed in the heat of his body and his enticing scent. He could’ve told me he was Darth Vader at this point, and I wouldn’t have cared.

“It’s nothing bad, and it’s nothing illegal. We’re just different. Think of it as… another culture. You wouldn’t understand, even if I were allowed to tell you. Can we still be friends if I don’t explain?”

I paused as his words sank in. “I guess so.” That’s what I
said
. My thoughts weren’t so agreeable.
Super. No answers
. And he wanted to be
friends
.

I’d always been the girl hot guys were “just friends” with. Normally that was what I wanted—it made me comfortable. When a really cute guy would show any interest in more, I’d make a point of saying something like, “I’m so glad we’re
friends
. You’re such a great buddy.” But this time—I actually
wanted
to be with the guy, to get closer, to move forward.

“Good.” Lad dropped my hands. “I need to get you back home. The sun’s almost down, and you are apparently too tempting for the local predators to resist. We don’t want to give them another shot after dark.”

“Take me to your house first,” I blurted. “I don’t have to meet your family. I just want to see where you live.”
So I can find you in case you disappear on me again.

“No. Ryann, did you not listen to anything I said?” He looked skyward and made an irritated noise. “Never mind. Come here.” Lad put his hands on my shoulders and looked down into my eyes, staring hard. I saw his exasperation shift into something else, a very intense concentration.

After a few seconds, I said, “What
is
that?”

“What?” He broke his stare and glanced away, blinking.

“When you look at me all weird like that. You gave me the same ‘pushy’ look the other day at the pool.”

Lad blinked a few more times, opening and closing his mouth without any sound coming out.

“Another secret, hmm?” I asked. I moved closer, leaving only inches between us. I placed my palms against his chest and looked up into his face. “Believe it or not, you can trust me. I haven’t told a soul about you. Well—not since I was six years old—but everyone thought I made you up then anyway. And I literally owe you my life. I would never do anything to cause you problems.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I wish I
could
show you where I live.” Lad spoke softly, barely above a whisper, focusing on me so intensely, I felt like he could see inside my thoughts. “I want to tell you things… but I can’t. Besides, you would never believe me.”

“Yes I would. Of course I would. Why would you say that?” I couldn’t control the urge to reach up to his troubled face. I wanted him to know he was safe with me. And I felt safe with him—weird—maybe it was our childhood connection or the fact that he’d saved me twice now, but I trusted him. I wanted him to trust me, too.

I pressed my palm gently against Lad’s cheek. His sharp intake of breath was audible. His hands gripped my waist. Starting to set me away from him, he stopped mid-motion. His forearms were tightly tensed, corded with muscle. He was trembling.

With indecision? With excitement?
The thought excited me, and I pressed closer to him.

“Ryann, please… don’t.” He closed his eyes and went silent as my fingertips slipped up to his temple.

His obvious response to me coupled with his restraint only made me braver. My heart beat harder. I stroked the worry lines on his warm forehead, smoothing a curling golden lock of hair back away from his face. One of my fingertips skated lightly over his lips.

When Lad opened his eyes again, they were bright, blazing like green sea glass reflecting a beach bonfire.

Hearing his harsh breathing and absorbing his quickening pulse under the hot skin of his face with my fingertips, my own breathing changed. My head felt funny. I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to regain control of my wild heart palpitations.

And suddenly I knew he was going to kiss me. I sensed it coming. I didn’t need my vision to tell me his mouth was only millimeters away from my lips. I could feel the heat of his breath, smell the inviting warm scent of his skin. And I wanted it.

I’d been kissed a few times before—hesitant, clumsy kisses involving mouth metal or abundant saliva, and wondering how long was an acceptable length of time before pulling away and ending it. This was nothing like that. I waited, face upturned toward his, for the moment of contact, for the kind of first kiss I’d always dreamed of.

Lad’s lips slid gently across mine at first. My skin went hot all over, and I was dazed by the warmth and softness of his mouth. I stood on my toes and stretched to get closer to the source of all that maddening heat and sweetness. His arms closed tighter around my waist, and my hands slid to grip his shoulders.

The kiss was perfect, firm but not too aggressive, gently exploring and inviting me to do the same. An involuntary sound came from my mouth, embarrassing me, but it seemed to excite Lad. He caught and muffled it, fitting his burning lips perfectly to mine. He brought a large hand up to cradle the back of my head, so tenderly, and I could feel the coiled tension of his arms and shoulders. Under the luxurious, patient pressure of his lips, mine began to part, opening up to him.

With a rough gasp, Lad pulled away from my mouth and cupped the back of my head in his hand, pressing my cheek tightly against his chest. It rose and fell in a dangerous rhythm. His breathing was audibly fast and harsh.

I was a little worried for him. And for me. Because I wanted to put my hand behind his strong neck and pull his mouth back down to mine, to beg or force him to kiss me again and again until… I didn’t know what, but I didn’t want it to end. Most of all, I didn’t want to let Lad out of my grasp. I was too afraid he’d disappear again.

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