TIED (A Fire Born Novel) (7 page)

Finding it difficult to stay upright, I could only say, “I’m fine.”

“No. You aren’t.”

Benny trailed behind us. “I’m coming, too.”

“I don’t need an entourage, Ben.” My words slurred.

“I go where you go.” She shimmied through the crowd of people with us, staying at my side.

“Since when?”

She rolled her eyes. “Since always.”

Clean air welcomed us on exiting the bar, the full moon shining in the distance, making the stormy weather from earlier seem out of place. Max’s arm tightened around my waist as we made our way through the parking lot, as though he feared I might collapse. He opened the car door, hovering while I climbed in.

“Don’t tell Devon where I am.” I lifted my brow and glared at Benny.

She stood gaping as if she was trying to form some kind of response—probably about my car. Before she could say a word, we drove away.

Stark white walls and florescent lights blinded me on entering the hospital. Max demanded he call, so Dr. Jessup would be alerted to my coming in.

“Why are you making such a big deal?” I complained as we walked through the maze of hallways and inside the doctor’s office.

“Big deal? You almost passed out. So it’s a big deal. Just sit down and stop arguing with me.” The door opened, and Max fell silent.

“Good evening, Layla, I hear you’re not feeling well?” Dr. Jessup held my chart, and closed the door shut behind him.

“Just a little dizzy.”

“She almost fainted a little while ago,” Max said.

“I see. And you are?” Dr. Jessup asked.

“Max.” He stood and extended his hand. “We met when Layla was first brought in.”

The doctor shook it. “Oh, yes, of course. You were in quite a state of panic, if I remember correctly.” Max blushed as I glanced over at him. “Well, normally I would wait to speak with your mother, but considering the lateness of the hour, we’ll just take a quick look.”

Taking a look is code for MRI claustrophobia.

Being elevated into the giant tubular machine for my MRI, while it knocked and banged with deafening volume, wasn’t half as bad as attempting to master my anxiety and not scratch my way out.

“It appears as though everything has healed nicely,” Dr. Jessup said after the exam. “There doesn’t seem to be any signs of lingering trauma. Have you been resting as ordered? Under any additional strain? Any unusual stresses? School problems?” He glanced toward Max. “Boyfriend problems?”

I tried not to laugh. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Max shot me a glare.

Dr. Jessup offered a gentle smile and patted my shoulder. “My advice to you, again, is to take some time off. Get some rest.” He walked to the door. “Head injuries need to be taken seriously.”

I nodded, wiping the growing grin from my face.

“Max, it was good to meet you again.” Dr. Jessup paused. “Perhaps you could help Layla take a break?”

“Consider it done, sir.” Max answered him formally and turned to me with an evil grin.

As Dr. Jessup left, I said, “No breaks.” I held my hands out. “I have a show to prepare for.”

“We’ll see.” His words dripped with sarcasm.

“Yes, we will. You can’t just walk back into my life and pretend everything’s the same as before.” I rose to my feet. “You can’t act like we’re back to normal.”

“Watch me.” He stood up beside me and smirked.

Same old Max.
The same as Benny and my mom.
I’d forgotten how protective he was.
Great. Another guardian.

I eyed him as we ambled back through the hospital hallway and groaned when I caught sight of Benny and Devon exiting the waiting room.

“Don’t even start.” Devon rolled his eyes. “You think I’m not going to find out you went to the hospital? And then not follow you?” He crossed his arms.

I didn’t respond. I did shoot daggers at Benny, though.

She shrugged. “Sorry, Lay. I had to tell him.”

“Dr. Jessup said she needs to rest, but she’s fine otherwise,” Max said and extended his hand toward Devon. “I’m Max.”

“Benny told me. I’ve seen you at the shop. You’re Layla’s long lost friend, or something?” He shook Max’s hand and let go.

A mocking smile spread across Max’s face. “Something like that.”

I frowned at Devon. “Max and I were best friends when we were younger.” Max glanced at me, eyebrows raised. “We’re still best friends.” He followed that with a smirk toward Devon, who shot him a cold stare.

“Weird that you never mentioned him.”

“Well, thank goodness you’re okay, Layla,” Benny said, breaking the growing tension. “You’re overdoing it. You need to stay off your feet. Take a while off from rehearsal …” She drifted into an endless ranting lecture of do’s and don’ts, and I ignored her, heading back outside to the parking lot.

Devon and Max took position on either side of me, Devon wrapping our fingers together while Max walked ahead a few steps. Benny’s rambles continued behind me, the cry of crickets overwhelming her words, as the warm humid evening enveloped us.

Max stopped and swung out his arm. Before I could stop, I bumped into it, and Devon’s hand slipped from mine.

A harsh chill overtook the night. Black ice spread over the pavement like clawed fingers beneath my feet. Spider-webbed crystals grew across my bare skin, covering everything in a dense frozen veil of bitter burning frost. Cold air seeped into my chest, freezing my breath, and shadowed silhouettes of abnormal shapes moved in the darkness, weaving through the parked cars, their forms coming in and out of focus under the yellowed streetlights.

My labored, rasping breath sucked in air and terror spread through my chest, securing me like glue into the frozen pavement.

As Max’s arm slipped away, my only touchtone to reality, the veil of cold lifted and hot air flooded through the parking lot like a river overflowing its banks. Heat coursed through my body in quick steady pulses, replacing the aching frost.

Heaves of uneven breaths brushed my cheek, arms crushed around my waist, a beating heart pounded against the back of my shoulder, and the spiciness of gardenias swept in.

The moon shone above, and I stood alone.

“What was that?” My voice trembled.

“What was what? Why are you just standing there?” Benny called over her shoulder.

Max tugged my elbow. “Let’s go.”

“Layla? Aren’t you riding with me?” Devon stood in the parking lot, hands held out, seeming exasperated.

What the hell?
“Um …” The words dying in my throat, I gestured toward my destroyed car.

“Right.” He walked forward, posture stiff, jaw set. “Benny told me about your car. You probably shouldn’t be driving it. We’ll get it later, or your mom can call a tow truck and have it hauled to the junkyard.” He reached for me.

“Her house is on my way,” Max said, interrupting Devon. “I’ll drive her home.”

“How do you get home then?” Devon glared.

Max grinned, tilting his head to the side. “I’ll walk.”

“Enough.f” I yelled at no one in particular, feeling like the rope in the middle of a game of tug of war. “Max can drive me to his house, and I’ll drive myself from there.”

Devon turned and stomped off without another word.

Great.

“Call me in the morning, Lay.” Benny drove by, shouting out her window. “Get some sleep!”

Max sat in the driver’s seat waiting as I climbed in my car. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re
dating
that guy?”

“Are you seriously asking me that? After what just happened? What in the hell is going on, Max?” I shut my eyes, too scared to say another word, worried if I opened my mouth again, a flood of questions would come pouring out like a faucet.

He touched my shoulder. “Look at me.”

I didn’t. My neck wouldn’t move. My brain quit accepting the right signals.

“You’ve been through too much as it is. Everything’s fine.” He spoke as though he was trying to convince himself rather than me.

“Fine?” I eyed him. “Everything’s fine? Are you
serious
?”

“You’re freaking out. Don’t freak out.”

“Tell me what’s going on! Did no one else notice we were close to being frozen to death?”

“No, that would only be us. I’ll tell you what’s going on when I can tell you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I can’t tell you right now.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop talking in riddles. You’re making me crazy.”

“It isn’t riddles. Calm down already.”

“Whatever.” I sat back, crossing my arms, tension building in my vise-gripped jaw.

We pulled away from the hospital, driving in silence, a million questions running through my head and making me more angry and confused, while Max kept glancing at me until he turned into my driveway and put the car in park.

“I thought I was dropping you off at your house?”

“Like I said, I can walk.” He shifted and faced me, cutting the engine. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“I’m not five years old. You can stop talking to me like I’m fragile.” I spit my words out, a slow burn growing in my throat.

“No one said you were fragile, at least not of body. But of mind …” He shrugged.

I hit him in the arm.

He grabbed my hand. “I’m kidding, Lay. Geesh.”

I yanked it away and climbed out of the car. “I’m not letting what happened go, by the way.” I slammed the door, and the other side mirror fell off.

“I’m sure you’re not.” He sighed. “Let’s find something to cover your car up for now—until we can figure out what to tell your mom.”

He cranked the engine and parked the disaster on the far side of the garage in the grass, tossing me the keys once he climbed out.

We searched the garage, finding the old dusty tarp my mom used once after our roof was damaged during hurricane season. Max slung it over the top of my car. It hung below the windows, covering all but the lower half.

“Better than nothing. If we’re lucky, she won’t notice.” He shifted his weight and gave me a one-sided hug, chuckling. “It’s good to be back.”

• • •

I paced through the living room, sitting down on the couch and standing up again. Thankfully, by the late hour, my mom had already gone to bed. She allowed me to be out late—with Benny—but the expression she’d have had on her face if she saw me with Max? That wouldn’t have been a conversation I could walk away from easily.

I wandered into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and stood staring at it for a few seconds, before closing it again wondering why I’d opened it in the first place. I wanted to call Max and force him to explain, but I didn’t even know his phone number.

Everything had happened so fast.

My mind barely wrapped around him being back. The last six years of my life seemed like it had faded into a distant past, and there I was again as my eleven year old self, except I wasn’t eleven, and something was wrong. Wrong with me, with my memory—with everything.

I sat on the couch, wide-eyed. Every creak of a branch or rustle of the wind made me flinch. Settling back against the pillows, my eyes fixed on the ceiling, my thoughts drifted in and out.

My alarm blared.

I reached to turn it off and fell on the floor.

It blared again, jarring me back into reality and the fact it was my phone, not my alarm. I squinted at the screen and hit ‘ignore’ at the unknown number, tossing it back on the coffee table before gathering myself up and stumbling through the dark house to my room, where I changed into my tank top and old soft boxers.

A calm stillness had descended over the night. Usually, the waves crashed along the shore or the wind blew the palm fronds against the house, but everything was silent.

My phone vibrated against my leg, almost sending me spilling onto the floor from my bed. Same unknown number. I chucked the phone onto my night table. It vibrated again. I snatched it back and pressed connect. “Hello?”

“Layla?”

“Yes!” A second later, the caller’s voice registered in my mind.

“Why are you yelling at me?” Max asked. “And why didn’t you answer the phone before?”

“Um … because I didn’t know it was your number? And I was asleep.”

“You don’t sleep.”

That used to be true.
“I dozed off then. People generally don’t call me at …” I checked my clock. “Three-thirty in the morning.”

“Right. Well, I’m out front. In front of your house.” He spoke in a rush.

What?
I peered out my window.

“Are you still there?” He sounded anxious.

“Yes, I’ll, um, come let you in … give me a minute.”

I scrambled around, yanked my hair up, and ran to the front door and opened it, realizing too late that my old raggedy tank top and shorts were not the most appropriate thing for me to be wearing.

Max stood under the white porch light, hair gently blowing across his face, his eyes bright as he grinned, his gaze roving up and down my body.

I really wished he wouldn’t look at me that way.

“Hey.”

I tried very hard to picture him through my eleven-year-old eyes, a best friend’s eyes, but at eleven I’d thought he was the prettiest boy I’d ever seen. “Hey, uh … come in.” I stepped to the side and let him pass.

He hesitated before walking by me, his head going every which way, as if surveying the living room.

The light scent of gardenias hit my nose. I closed the door, breathing it in, realizing he hadn’t been to my house in years, and even then, if my memory served me right, it had been in secret.

“Do you want to sit, or …” I motioned towards the couch.

“Listen, Lay. What happened earlier … I don’t really know how to explain, but you’re safe …” He sounded like he was talking to himself. “Nothing else matters …” He ran his fingers through his hair.

What’s he rambling on about? That made zero sense.
“Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t. I wanted to make sure you were okay, which you are.” He turned back toward the front door.

“It’s three-thirty in the morning.”

He stopped.

“Well, close to four now, and you’re standing in my living room. If you didn’t want to explain then, why are you here?”