The Missing- Volume II- Lies Page 5

  Did Bradley despise me? Deep down? I shuddered and wanted to cry at the thought.

  Not Bradley.

  My Bradley.

  “I don’t want to keep you here. Not with everything you’ve been through—”

  Bradley wrapped his hand around my wrist and squeezed hard, silencing me. “Stop it, Nora. Don’t mention it. Ever.”

  My skin throbbed underneath his fingers. If he pressed a little harder, maybe he could break me. Could shatter me. It’s what he wanted.

  We sat in the dirty, dark room. Together. He held me viciously. I let him. We were silent. We were miserable.

  Together.

  “You don’t need anyone else. Neither do I. We never have,” he whispered.

  He wouldn’t allow me to give my heart away. Not to anyone.

  Least of all to Maren Digby.

  But it wasn’t his choice. This time I was making the decisions for myself.

  “I wonder if Maren will come here?” I mused.

  Bradley stared at me for a long time. I knew what he was thinking. And I knew how he was feeling.

  Fear.

  Loss of control.

  Rage. Rage. Rage.

  He let go of my arm and all but shoved me away. I almost fell over. He got to his feet and stomped out of the room that had once held my only joy. His anger fueled his footsteps as they receded down the hallway.

  He left.

  But he’d be back. Bradley would never be able to leave me.

  Right?

  I didn’t quite believe myself.

  The Past

  Four Months Ago

  I sat in the sunshine and felt warm all over. It was a good day.

  So far.

  Mother and Rosie were long gone by the time I got up this morning. So I had two hours all to myself. I ended up having to walk to school, which took almost an hour, but I was okay with that.

  Anything was better than having to endure my typical morning routine of snide comments and open ridicule. I took extra time with my hair, smoothing it down so that it lay nicely over my shoulders.

  I chose my outfit with care. When I dressed I didn’t feel like ugly, ugly Nora Gilbert. I felt like someone better. Someone prettier. Someone others could love.

  I covered the scar above my lip and then promptly washed the makeup off. I scrubbed my face until it was red and shiny. I was tired of covering up. Of hiding.

  What was the point?

  Bradley had been waiting for me when I arrived on campus. After how things were left at the barn, I wasn’t sure I’d see him. I should have known better though. I could always depend on him.

  My constant.

  My Bradley.

  And things were almost normal between us. We didn’t really talk, but he walked me to class. And the not talking was the most comforting thing he could offer.

  Now I was sitting with Maren. Under her tree, listening to her music. Some people gathered around to hear her, and she was sweet and kind to everyone.

  But most of all to me.

  I didn’t understand this need to be around her. It was instinctual. Felt in the gut. But it overtook everything. It made me blind and deaf to anything that wasn’t Maren Digby.

  “Your eyes look blue today,” Maren mused, giving me a smile. I lived my days around the prospect of those smiles.

  I ducked my head shyly. “Sometimes they change colors. Usually depending on my mood,” I told her.

  Maren ran her fingers along the strings of her instrument humming under her breath. “And what does the color blue say about your mood?”

  I looked up at her through my lashes. “It means I’m excited. Happy. Content.”

  Maren continued to smile, never faltering. I wished she would give me the attention she gave to her guitar. It was silly to be jealous of an inanimate object, but I was.

  I wanted to smash the shiny piece of wood into a thousand, tiny pieces.

  “I’ve been playing around with a few melodies, but I can’t tell if they sound lame or not,” Maren said, changing the subject all the while plucking at her strings. She was wearing her silver rings. One on each finger. Her wrists were covered in shiny bangles that glinted in the sun.

  “I doubt they sound lame. I’m sure they’re amazing!” I laughed, leaning back against the tree trunk, my legs tucked underneath me. My hair was held back with a clip and it felt good. I felt good. No makeup. No hiding behind a curtain of hair. I wasn’t hunched over, hoping no one would see me.

  I was here. I was present.

  I was Nora Gilbert.

  Maren rolled her eyes. “You always say stuff like that, Nora,” she scoffed good-naturedly.

  I picked a blade of grass and twirled it between my fingers. “I say it because it’s true.”

  Maren lightly kicked my knee with her foot and I tingled everywhere. “You’re really good for my self esteem, you know that?”

  I sucked the grass between my lips, chewing it. “I like to make you feel good,” I told her softly, my voice rough. My eyes lingered on her lips. On her hair. On her neck.

  Maren flushed and looked away. There was a strange undercurrent between us today. I liked it. It was unsettled and tense. Like the air before a storm. It was anticipation and awareness.

  I spit the grass out and scooted a little closer. Maren’s was focused on her guitar again, and I felt as though we were in our own little bubble.

  “I’d like to take you somewhere. Would you come with me?” I asked her. Maren continued to play, her dark hair concealing her face. This time, she was the one hiding. I relished in finding her.

  I reached out and brushed her hair away, annoyed that I couldn’t see her.

  “Would you, Maren?” I prompted.

  Maren stopped playing and pressed her palm over the strings, silencing them. She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes troubled. “Where do you want to go?” she asked.

  I leaned in a little closer, our arms brushed against one another. “Somewhere really important to me. Only Bradley knows about it. But I want to share it with you.”

  Maren glanced up and my heart sped up. She was so beautiful. It was almost painful to look at her. I inhaled deeply, holding the scent of her in my lungs.

  “Why do you want to share it with me, Nora? What do you think is going on here?” she asked, uncharacteristically short.

  I captured a piece of her hair between my fingers, fascinated with its softness. I loved the dark, chestnut brown and silky texture. I wondered what I’d look like with long, dark hair. Would I be beautiful too?

  “Stop, Nora,” Maren murmured, pulling back slightly, and my guts shredded into fragments. I was frightened that I’d overstepped. I felt like I was constantly walking on eggshells, afraid to press too much. But I was scared that if I didn’t make it clear how I felt, she’d never know. And Maren needed to know.

  My love for her was fueled by fear. It heated my blood and chilled my heart. I was terrified by how much I wanted her. And how far she pushed me away.

  Why did she always push me away? I knew she cared about me. We were intertwined in something necessary. Didn’t she realize that? Didn’t she know how much this thing between us mattered?

  What did I have to do to make her see?

  “Won’t you come with me?” I begged. I could hear the pleading note in my voice. I was desperate for her.

  Maren seemed conflicted. I didn’t understand why. We were simple. We were perfect.

  “Do you know what I noticed about you the first time we met?” Maren asked suddenly.

  I smiled. “No. What?” I asked eagerly.

  Tell me! Tell me!

  “I saw a sad woman hiding her face. You were so intense that you scared me a little. But you also intrigued me. I liked you. Just how you were.”

  I could burst with joy at her words.

  She liked me.

  Just as I was.

  Maren fingered the hem of my shirt that was so much like the one she was wearing. I loved that we were dress
ed the same. I relished this connection. Forced and manipulated, but ever present.

  “Why are you wearing this, Nora? It’s not you.” She frowned and I didn’t like the look on her face. It worried me.

  I smoothed out the large T-shirt over my skinny jeans. I played with the bracelets on my wrists. “I like looking this way,” I protested, but not harshly. I could never be unkind to Maren. Not really.

  Her brows furrowed and she seemed about to say something.

  Would it be something I didn’t want to hear?

  But instead Maren shook her head. “Where do you want to take me?” She gave me a bright smile, and I refused to acknowledge how insincere it was.

  “Nora.”

  Bradley appeared on the other side of the tree. He held a bag in his hand and a dark look on his face.

  Maren’s expression changed at the sight of him. Only slightly. But I saw it. And I didn’t understand it.

  She was unreadable.

  “Hi, Bradley,” she said, giving him her smiles.

  Bradley looked at her, which surprised me. He had never done that before. He typically ignored her completely.

  “Hi, Maren,” he replied gruffly, begrudgingly.

  Maren’s eyes widened and she looked at me in surprise. We were both shocked. Such a small concession from him wasn’t to be taken lightly.

  “Can I join you?” he asked uncomfortably.

  I opened my mouth to tell him no. To tell him that I’d see him later, but Maren beat me to it.

  “Sure, have a seat. You can kick all that stuff out of the way.”

  I pursed my lips shut and watched in horror, as my two friends uneasily existed in the same space.

  What was going on?

  “Thank you,” Bradley tried to smile but with his scabbed lip and bruised face, he looked monstrous.

  Maren watched him as he sat down. I saw that she noted his pained movements. I recognized the flash of sympathy in her eyes as he gritted his teeth and tried to get comfortable.

  Don’t feel sorry for him! He does it to himself! He’s not a victim!

  The rage was scary and consuming and came out of nowhere. I was used to being mad, but I rarely felt it toward Bradley.

  Bradley handed me the bag. “I got you something to eat. I figured you hadn’t had lunch yet.”

  I felt guilty for my irrational anger towards him. He wasn’t my enemy. He was my protector. My always friend. I should appreciate that Maren was feeling sympathetic towards him given the less than great first impression he gave her.

  So why was I having such a hard time convincing myself?

  I took the bag but didn’t open it. I didn’t want him here. With me. With Maren.

  It felt wrong. Like bugs crawling underneath my skin.

  Just go!

  “Please eat something,” he said quietly. I refused to open the bag. I sat there like a petulant child, defiant and irritated. I was being ridiculous, I knew that. But I felt as though he were encroaching. He was dominating and taking over. I was used to his incredible possessiveness. I had always found comfort in it.

  Not now.

  “What did you bring her?” Maren asked, taking the bag from my lap. She rummaged around, pulling out a packet of cookies. “Can I have these? They’re my favorite.”

  I nodded, giving her a smile. Bradley’s eyes narrowed. “I got those for Nora.”

  “She doesn’t mind. Do you, Nora?” Maren asked, though her eyes were fixed on Bradley. She was making a point; I just didn’t know what it was. Was this some sort of pissing contest? I felt an excited sense of anticipation. I could hardly stand it.

  Maren popped two chocolate cookies into her mouth, chewing slowly. Bradley’s face flushed. Though I wasn’t sure if it was in anger or something else. His eyes were heated but hard to read. I had always been able to recognize his feelings. I could understand them as though they were my own.

  Not this time.

  It disturbed me.

  “So, Bradley, Nora wants to take me somewhere. She says it’s special.” Maren sounded almost teasing as she continued to eat my cookies. I sat silently between them.

  Forgotten.

  She watched him.

  He watched her.

  She licked her lips.

  He burned bright.

  They were completely and totally fixated on each other. But the reason wasn’t immediately obvious. It wasn’t simply sexual tension or absolute loathing. It was something else. Something more concerning.

  Bradley took a deep breath, letting it out noisily. “Nora has class.”

  “It’s okay to skip once in a while though. The world won’t stop turning because we miss one lecture.” Maren held the bag of cookies out to Bradley. “Here, have one. They’re delicious.”

  Bradley glared at Maren. Seconds turned into minutes and still she kept her hand outstretched, holding the bag of cookies. How long would she stay that way? How long would she wait for him to acknowledge her?

  Finally Bradley snatched the bag and promptly gave it to me. But he didn’t look at me.

  “They’re Nora’s. I bought them for her.”

  Maren didn’t appear upset by Bradley’s rudeness. It was on the tip of my tongue to chastise him for being nasty. I hated how horrible he was to Maren.

  But I didn’t say anything. Because Maren again smiled at Bradley. It was secretive and coy. It was playful and discreet.

  And it wasn’t for me.

  It was for him.

  “Maybe next time you can buy two bags of cookies. That way we can all have some,” Maren suggested, wiping crumbs from her mouth. I watched the way her fingers moved across her lips and felt warmth in my belly.

  Desire, thick and heady, unfurled in my darkest places. It throbbed and soared. All because of the way she stared at Bradley.

  My Maren.

  My Bradley.

  Mine.

  Bradley didn’t respond to her and instead turned to me. I let out a sigh that felt like relief. He saw me.

  Why had it taken him so long?

  It shouldn’t have.

  He always cared about me most. That would never change. Not now.

  Not ever.

  “You have class, Nora. We can walk together,” he suggested.

  “We’ll all go. And then maybe after class, we can head to this special place Nora was telling me about,” Maren piped up, placing her guitar into the beat up case and closing it.

  The idea of the three of us going anywhere together seemed to be a recipe for disaster.

  I didn’t like it. Not at all.

  “Where were you going to take her?” Bradley asked me, speaking low while Maren packed up her things.

  It’s none of your business!

  Bradley grabbed my arm. “You weren’t going to take her to the barn, were you?” he demanded, baring his teeth.

  “What does it matter?” I grimaced as his grip became tighter.

  “Don’t make it so easy for her, Nora! Why do you have to hand it all over to a woman you barely know?” He gave my arm a shake.

  “Everything okay?”

  Bradley released me and took a step back.

  “Fine. Everything’s fine,” I lied. Maren tucked her hair behind her ear and gave each of us a smile. Nothing special. An easy grin for unimportant people.

  “So what do you say? Should we all meet up after class?” Maren prodded, oblivious to the tension between my friend and me.

  Oblivious or uninterested.

  Before I could answer, Bradley started to walk away. Then to my surprise and devastation, Maren followed him.

  I gathered my bag and uneaten lunch and walked behind the two of them. Alone.

  “You’ll never catch up with them if you keep walking so slow.”

  I sighed, feeling a pounding in my temples. “I’m not trying to keep up with anyone.”

  She had a habit of showing up at my lowest points. As though she were tuned into my emotional turmoil.

  Rosie twisted t
he ring on her finger. Over and over. “I never thought I’d see the day when Bradley would talk to a female that wasn’t his ugly, ugly Nora.”

  I didn’t rise to the bait. I knew she wanted me to. “Are you stalking me?” I asked, annoyed and frustrated and trying not to cry as my two friends continued to walk without me.

  Maren was speaking and Bradley looked less than pleased by whatever she was saying. He looked down at her with a frown, his mouth set in a straight line. Didn’t she see how angry she made him? Why did she continue to speak to him when he was so rude?

  Maren looked back over her shoulder at me and smiled. I couldn’t help but smile back.

  Not smiling wasn’t an option. Not with Maren. She pulled the expression out of me, whether I wanted to or not.

  Rosie snapped her fingers in front of my face, getting my attention. I had almost forgotten she was there.

  “No, I’m not stalking you. Not that it would be particularly hard. It’s not like you have a life or people to occupy your time.” Rosie’s callous observations weren’t wrong. I despised how right she was. “I have some things to do. And then I saw you and wanted to say hello. Though I guess I could just see you at home.” She smirked, enjoying herself.

  I wanted to hit her. So badly. I thought about how satisfying it would be to connect my fist with her face.

  “It’s not your home,” I reminded her.

  Rosie gripped her purse in her hand, knuckles white. “It is my home. It always should have been.”

  There were a thousand things I wanted to say to that statement, but I kept them all to myself. I didn’t argue with Rosie. There was no point. I had been on the receiving end of her cruelty often enough to know when to back off.

  “It’s no wonder that she’s following after him like a lost puppy,” Rosie mused, inclining her head in Bradley and Maren’s direction.

  I bit down on my tongue hard enough to split it in two.

  Don’t respond. Don’t give her anything.

  “I always did like Bradley. He’s so protective. So nice to look at. He’s easy to love, isn’t he?”

  I felt bile rise up in the back of my throat. I was going to be sick.

  Rosie’s eyes glittered dangerously. “You’re looking a little green around the gills, Nora. Was it something I said?”