Torn (2 page)

His cocky bravado triggered an extra jolt of adrenaline inside me.
He’s not gonna take this round
. Not this time.

For a few seconds we circled, each anticipating the other’s next move. He crouched and lunged at my knees. I jumped and grabbed the branch above me. He missed, sprawling out in the dirt.
But not for long.
He was on his feet again before I’d even let go of the tree, his eyes merely blue slits of predatory focus. I had a total of three seconds to figure out my next move before he lunged again, targeting me mid-waist.

Instinctively, I dropped to the ground, and sprang forward, drilling him into the trunk of the nearest tree. Rain had started to
fall,
shrouding the sound of my movements as I quickly disappeared behind the brush. I needed to work out how to nail him using an element of surprise.

He growled in frustration but his annoyance didn’t matter. I was winning. I could feel it.

My hands and knees were scraped and dirty. My hair was a tangled mess and the sudden rise in humidity brought on by the rain wasn’t helping. The scent of decaying vegetation around me did nothing to mask the stench of my sweat.

His voice taunted me. “Come
out,
come out, wherever you are. You can’t hide from me forever. You think you can camouflage yourself from me? I can smell you.”

Think, Sam
.

He was right. I couldn’t sit there all day getting soaked in the rain waiting for him to find me. Through a small gap between the leaves, I could see him looking, scanning the trees and underbrush. Then his eyes focused where I crouched. I needed to act, now.

The forces of nature seemed to heed my need stealth and the sky erupted, complete with booming thunder and darting strikes of lightning. Using the storm to mask the sound, I belly crawled behind bushes until I was on his right. His eyes still boring into the spot I’d just vacated, he took a step forward.

I slowly stood and crept up next to him. He turned around and I caught his cheek with a right hook but he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. I yelled, in surprise and pain. The look on his face made him almost unrecognizable and for a moment I was paralyzed as the maniacal voice stole through me once again.

Samannnnnnthaaaa...

He took advantage of my shock and swept my legs out, dropping me face first into a vat of mud.

So not how I had envisioned this ending.

Lying face down in the muck, I struggled for air as the weight of him held me still and his annoyingly even breath tickled my neck. I swore it was as if he had the lung capacity of a freaking whale. I could picture his grin and it made me want to punch him even more.

As I turned my head away from the mud, I closed my eyes. My adrenaline spent, all the tension left my body in defeat. “Seriously, do you have to play Monday Night Football
every time
we train? I can’t wait until it’s my turn to play predator. I’m so gonna drop your sorry ass in the thickest patch of poison ivy I can find. No.
Sumac.
Poison sumac.
That sounds much worse.”

Laughing, Ethan shifted his body so I could roll over. Still braced on his elbows above me, he inched up so we were eye to eye. My breath hitched.

I used to be amazed at how he could morph into the scary predator so easily. It wasn’t something I could do, at least not yet. But as each day passed and the longer we waited, the more shadows I cast and the more off my rocker I became.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, slowpoke,” he said. “I’ll be sure to run at low speed tomorrow to make life easier on you.”

Jerk. I was lying there, thinking of nothing but the way the contours of his body fit so nicely with mine, envisioning him kissing me in that long slow way they do in movies, and all he could do was wax sarcastic. I had to look away or, I swore, my lips were gonna pucker up on their own and plant a juicy one on his full lips.

Wouldn’t that be nice
?

“Tomorrow’s not your day,” I told him. “So you can run at whatever speed you like. I won’t be chasing you.”

I playfully punched his arm as he gently brushed the hair from my eyes and put his forehead to mine. His eyes searched mine as his fingers grazed the side of my face.

“Your eyes are darker.”

He noticed my eyes
?
“Darker than what?”

“They’re still blue, just darker. I don’t know.”

“Well, thanks, I guess.”

He smiled at me and once again thoughts of long, slow kisses filled my head.

As he tucked a strand of muddy hair behind my ears, he whispered, “You know, Sam, now that we’re alone, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

I forced boredom into my voice.
“Oh yeah?
What’s that?” Rolling my eyes, I tried my best to act calm, while my heart threatened to beat out of my chest and
Ohmygod,
ohmygod,
ohmygod
ran on a continuous loop through my head
.

A sexy smirk played at his mouth before he leaned down to my ear. “You really, really need a shower.”

I punched him again, this time with all my leftover strength. “Ethan, you suck.”

Samannnnnnthaaaa...

My body froze. Goosebumps littered my arms and cold fear knotted my stomach. I felt the same sudden dizziness that always came when the voice taunted me. I lifted my head and searched the woods, knowing full well I wouldn’t find what I sought. The voice was everywhere and nowhere. It was familiar and foreign and creepy but mostly, it was really freaking annoying.

Ethan once told me if I focused, I could eradicate the voice. If I could just focus long enough, I could shut it up for good. All I wanted was for it to leave me alone. The voice could tell me to run all it wanted, upping the terror level every time, but since I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to be running from, it was all pointless.
Pointless and terrifying.

Alarmed, Ethan stood up and scanned the woods. “What is it, Sam?”

“I heard it again.
Just now.
And it followed me through the woods while I was running earlier.”

“We’d better get back.” He extended his hand to help me up. The glint in his ocean blue eyes was familiar, but the usual knowing smirk on his face had been replaced by tension. His hair, the color of beach sand at dawn, still looked fresh. I swore he pilfered good hair genes from the pages of the latest celebrity rag. And why was it that
men
could still look amazing all sweaty and dirty? How was
that
fair? Lapsing into a daze, I realized too late that he was fully aware of me staring at his chest. How the white t-shirt clung just so to his nicely defined...
Shake it off.

Ethan chuckled. “Oh, by the way, dishes are on you, tonight.”

“Shut up.” I grabbed his hand and pulled myself to my feet. I pushed my hair out of my face and sighed as I noticed my long blonde waves had become a hideous shade of drab.
Great.
The mud had caked it into dreadlock-like tendrils, elegantly adorned with dried leaves and twigs.
Fashionable.
Call me Mother-freaking Nature.

Doing my best to look halfway presentable, I attempted to remove the ooze from my eyes with a clumsy two fingered fling, as much for vanity’s sake as for sight. But I simply swept the muck into my ears instead.
Typical.

Ethan rubbed the welt forming on his chin.
“A few of those punches were solid. Did Lucas teach you that roundhouse?
And good job using the brush as camouflage.”

“Yeah, I can feel myself getting stronger, faster, too. But I’m just not strong enough and nowhere near fast enough yet. Just when I think I’ve got you, ugh, you come out of the blue and knock me on my ass.”

“Well, you were closer this time. I almost didn’t get you.”

“Yeah, but you did. You always do. You both always do,” I retorted. I knew I sounded way more like a spoiled brat than I meant to, but
damn it
, it was so frustrating.

I could feel the mud beginning to crust on my palms. I briefly contemplated smearing them all over Ethan’s face as payback, but settled for wiping them on my thighs. My favorite sweatpants were now ripped and dirty anyway. I sighed. My white tank had faired no better. It was now an awesome shade of forest floor and clung to my chest like a second skin. I was sure every runway model would be sporting this look come spring. Not like it mattered what I looked like anyway. He didn’t look at me the same way I looked at him.

“You know, I’d like to strangle the guy who had the brilliant idea of training at dawn.”

Chuckling, Ethan turned and headed toward the cabin. “I’ll be sure to let Lucas know that you’re gonna lobby for more sleep in the future. I’m impressed, though, with today’s training.” He stopped and untangled a twig from the rat’s nest my hair had become. “But for now, we need to go.”

“Impressive, huh?
My hair full of leaves and my face full of mud? How attractive,” I said, rolling my eyes.

He leaned in and touched my chin. “You’d be attractive with a shaved head and antlers growing from your ears.” He straightened and I could feel my face grow warm, yet again. Well, at least he wouldn’t notice with layers of mud masking it.

“But then again, that’s sort of a gross thought since you’re kinda like the little sister I never had.”

I struggled to hide my disappointment as I said, “Little sister?”

“Well, I meant ‘little’ as in vertically challenged.”

I drew myself up to my full five foot four inch height but sighed as I remembered he had a foot on me. My shoulders slumped again. Too tired for good posture and a snappy comeback, I said, “Whatever, Ethan. You suck.”

“You already said that.”

“Well, it needed to be said twice.”

“Then by all means—”

“Are we done here? This training has kicked my ass and as you said, I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

“Ah, yes. Yes, you are.” He chuckled and reached for my hand. “Come on, then. We’ll try again another time.”

As we trudged back through the woods, I fell behind him, wanting to sneak a whiff of my pits. He was right. I seriously needed a shower.
A long, hot shower.

Why did he always have to see me at my worst?

He may have been my best friend’s brother but I wasn’t dead. My heart raced into my throat every time he touched me, to the point I had to struggle not to faint from the closeness. Secretly, I inhaled the smell of him.
God, even his sweat smells
good
. I couldn’t help but stare at his back and with a small smile, I gripped his hand tighter.

He suddenly dropped to one knee, slipping his hand from mine to tie a rogue shoelace. I clenched my hand into a fist, wanting to hold onto the warmth that still lingered on my palm.

Samannnnnnthaaaa...

Frozen, I scanned the trees surrounding us. I tuned my ears and tried to focus
but the voice always disoriented me. My head felt still and off-balance all at once. Not only was the voice harassing me more frequently but it sounded closer than ever. “Ethan?” I whispered his name for reassurance.

My lack of movement seemed to jar him. “What’s wrong? Did you hear it again?” he asked, eyes narrowed. He looked off into the distance trying to sense what only I could hear.

I nodded. “Yes,” I said, my voice rising with panic.

“Damn it,” Ethan whispered. “It shouldn’t be able to follow you here.”

Before I could ask what he meant, he shot me a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and said, “Let’s go, Sam. We really need to get back to the house. Like now.” A sense of urgency filled the space around us. He grabbed my hand and ran, pulling me back through the woods toward the cabin. The inherent silence to which I’d grown accustomed enveloped us, so that all we heard was the sound of our footsteps. Ethan ran, repeatedly glancing at the sky and the surrounding trees, like he was bracing for what might come hurdling at us.

CHAPTER 2

We didn’t stop running until we burst into the clearing that spread out around the cabin like a welcome mat. The last fifty yards or so seemed to take forever, as if we were on a slow-moving conveyor belt. My body ached in places it hadn’t a few hours ago.

Mud had crusted over my skin, and every movement ripped the hair on my arms out by the roots, reminding me of a documentary I once saw about the mud people from Woodstock. But those people had covered themselves in mud on purpose. I shuddered at the thought of intentionally wallowing in mud like a pig and longed for a shower and the lightly scented lavender soap that would make me feel like a girl again.

It was hard to feel like one sometimes when my roommates were two guys. The two guys my dad had entrusted to care for me after he died. Two guys who always saw me as nothing more than a sibling.
And barely female.
Secluded in the woods, with no one to dress up for, I usually relegated myself to jeans, sweats, tanks, and sweatshirts. Long gone were the days when I would actually blow dry my hair, slick on some lip-gloss, and rock on some amazing heels. Due to a depressing lack of social life since we moved here, I no longer saw the point.

We’d been living at my dad’s old cabin for five months.
Hiding, training, always training, for an ever-present danger that had yet to reveal itself.
The two-story log hideout was built to be strong and yet it was still beautiful. I felt all at once peaceful and safe at just the sight of it.

The ornately carved front door looked fragile with age though it was the strongest, thickest slab of wood I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t imagine anything getting through it. The crudely made window boxes bloomed even now with cheerful flowers, though I knew for a fact none of us had a green thumb.

I climbed the steps to the wrap-around porch, the old wood creaking under my weight, and stood at the railing watching the surrounding woods. The porch had become my haven for meditation. Enveloped by woods and wildlife, I loved it there. I was never a nature girl, but this place was an exception. The trees were always full and lush, standing guard over us, watching us. And I felt safe.