Bound Read online

  Bound

  Jennifer Dean

  To my mom, Judi for her unconditional love and support. Thank you for always making my dreams, your dreams too.

  Acknowledgements

  Erika, for the constant enthusiasm she has for my characters and their story. No matter what happens, I will never forget that you were my first fan.

  Becca and Lauren for being my cheerleaders. Your sisterly pride in this book gave my publishing dream confidence. I’m lucky to have friends like you.

  Katelan, for reminding me that starting over can be courageous. Your honesty influenced a much better story than I could have hoped to find.

  My brother Greg, for encouraging me to read. Thank you for leading me to the discovery of my own imagination.

  My mom, for letting me ramble on and on about my characters. Thank you for always sharing me with my imaginary family. Have I told you that I love you today?

  CONTENTS

  1. New Girl

  2. Assumptions

  3. Blinded Fury

  4. Warning

  5. Promise

  6. Curiosity

  7. Productive

  8, Lunch Trail

  9. Puzzle Pieces

  10. Headfirst

  11. Exposed

  12. Lack of Control

  13. Torn

  14. Shadow

  15. Against

  16. Different

  17. Detour

  18. Ticking Clock

  19. The Last Alexander

  20. Sean’s Secret

  21. Broken Bonds

  22. First Encounter

  23. Immortal Games

  24. Distraction

  25. Betrayal

  26. Death’s Point Of View

  27. Revelation

  I was calling to him from behind the uninviting glare. Despite the lingering hope of reaching the man I had come to know, I couldn’t ignore the shiver that sent a trail of goosebumps down my legs. Even if I begged for it to be untrue, I knew that he was gone. I was left with someone who held no mercy or tolerance of my existence.

  Saliva began forming in my mouth faster than I could swallow it. My mistake was unintentionally feeding him with subtle symptoms of my fear. The twitch of my fingers, the small gulp from my throat, and the sudden shifts from my eyes were only to his pleasure. I was merely a fly caught in a spider web. The only thing left to do was decide whether to uselessly struggle or accept my defeat.

  Suddenly, I found my legs moving forward even without giving them the command to run. I had made my subconscious choice to struggle. But my pace barely brought me to the door before my mind drowned in darkness.

  28 Days Earlier…

  1. New Girl

  How many steps does it take until carpet begins to wear down? The question made me feel like that silly kid on those Tootsie Roll Pops commercials. But it didn’t matter because I had no idea the number of steps I had used, each time I had crossed the room to make my way to each unpacked box. All morning it had been enough focus just to ignore the urge to look out the window. But it was going on noon now and my will power to resist the search had begun to slip.

  Maybe just a peek, I thought convincingly.

  All I needed was a simple glimpse of a black Ford truck. Yes, one glimpse and then back to unpacking. It was enough of a mental promise to persuade my feet to begin the creep. That was until the sudden knock on my door made me jump with guilt.

  “All right, Emma,” my mom called from the other side.

  I sighed with relief to what seemed a perfect timing of distraction. I didn’t know how much longer I could stay confined in my room, like a hamster in its cage. My little resistance slip proved that. Of course, I knew that I could have easily found myself inside one of the many books lining my shelf. But there was something about the anticipation that couldn’t relax me. And that’s the rule of reading. You have to be in some form of relaxation, ready to jump from reality to fiction. Or else the mind would just wonder around on a thin layer of reality, never quite enjoying the fictional setting.

  So instead I had found myself mostly occupied by finally unpacking the many boxes that had arrived two days earlier, boxes I had abandoned any care of last night once my mother and I had driven past the Washington line.…

  * * *

  Even with my mother’s small complaint I couldn’t resist rolling down my window and getting the chance to breath in the cold night air. I closed my eyes with a sudden lift of my lips. Sean, I thought. A thrill of excitement reminded me just how close I was to him.

  Even in the late hour of the night, I had pleaded with my mom for the chance to see my brother.

  “Can we stop by just for a quick visit? It doesn’t have to be long,” I said.

  “We’ll see them tomorrow morning. It won’t be that long once you fall asleep,” she said.

  I had known very well how much that wouldn’t be true. I knew once I got home that I would toss and turn with anticipation, like a child on the eve of a Disneyworld vacation. But even with my disappointment, I observed her shifted hazel glance and slightly curved red lips. Right then I knew of her agenda. It’s not that we couldn’t stop by in the late hour and see Sean—something she would be just as excited to do. It’s that she wanted me to wait.

  With tomorrow’s party, the reunion would seem that much more special in her mind for me. And for that, I couldn’t be mad. Especially not when I knew she too would carry her own desire to see Sean. I’m sure any mother would say the same after such a long separation from her child. Over the past three years I would momentarily carry frustration from time to time at Sean for his decision. Yes, most kids threaten to stay behind when the family moves across the country. But what teenager actually gets to stay behind? Well, I knew of one. My older brother.

  From the moment my father had announced we would be leaving Washington for Dallas, Sean planted his feet in the ground, outright demanding that he wouldn’t go, claiming that it wasn’t fair to have to uproot his life just for a job my father wasn’t likely to keep. Sure, my dad was annoyed with the demands of a fifteen-year-old boy. But that was nothing compared to his anger that followed Sean gaining the support of my uncle and father’s younger brother, Greg. Once he had volunteered to let my brother live with him I knew the fight was over, and Sean had won. Well, it was more that my dad merely forfeited. But regardless of who called themselves victor, the damage had severed the tiny thread of a relationship left between them. Both knew that, and both seemed to accept it.

  When the day to leave finally came, my mom had to be the one to even let me see Sean. But, my father’s pride was the least of my concern on that day. I wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to say good-bye to a person I loved most in the world. How was I expected to just to leave him behind?

  When the inevitable moment finally came I found myself wanting to hold on to Sean just a little longer. I must have cried from the moment I shut the car door in Washington until I opened it again in Dallas.

  * * *

  I blinked out of my daze, coming back to the surreal moment I was happy to be in. I wasn’t leaving North Carolina. I was back. I was home again. Home to Washington, a town most people mistakenly assumed, in conversation, for the northwest state or nation’s capital. But my Washington was a small town that sat in the east side of North Carolina along the Pamlico River. It had been my home for fourteen years, and I had missed it terribly after the big move to Texas. I wasn’t so lucky to get my childhood home back, but I wasn’t going to be picky. In fact, I would gladly live in a closet under the stairs like Harry Potter if it meant I got to stay.

  I smiled from the thought as I opened my bedroom door before walking down the hallway. My stomach tumbled around like a dryer with eager nerves in the seconds before turning the corner toward
my living room. Instantly my eyes caught sight of nothing but my surprise. At least the one I had been hoping to get.

  My lips parted with a huge curve as my legs moved in a slight skip-run. My excitement felt like I had been transformed into a ten-year-old girl on Christmas morning. Well, if that Christmas morning was wrapped with two Christmas Eves, four Easters, and ten visits from the tooth fairy.

  I couldn’t contain myself as I leapt up into Sean’s arms, securing my own tightly around his neck and wrapping my legs around his waist for support. I leaned my head forward with my squeeze, taking in the unfamiliar scent that invited the senses better than any cologne. In an instant I could hear his chuckle in my ear. Such a little thing to miss, and yet I found I couldn’t imagine not hearing it again. It could have only been seconds, but it felt like hours before I heard the wonder of his voice.

  “You know I think Mom is going to be disappointed if you don’t admire her hard work,” Sean said.

  From that, I knew he was right. “Oh,” I said with the remembrance of the other people occupying the room. My legs released reluctantly with a drop that was higher than I anticipated from my original jump.

  “You’ve gotten so tall,” I said after my heels had bounced to adjust to the ground.

  I pulled my head back with a narrowed study of his appearance. After three years, my memory seemed a little warped. Sean had always been good looking, yes, but now he just looked downright gorgeous. And if that wasn’t enough, he seemed to have grown in more ways than one. Along with his height that had to at least been six feet, his former lanky body now looked muscular and well proportioned. Even his short layered hair, which had always been a little lighter than my chocolate brown, seemed to be naturally highlighted with several more new shades of brown. That type of hair you would catch yourself staring at in envy once you step outside into the sunlight.

  “A bit,” Sean said.

  With the familiar widening of his eyes, I finally caught sight of a color that wasn’t quite the once-identical light hazel brown of my own. Unintentionally, I had found myself staring at the beautifully bright golden honey color. I pursed my lips as an old jealousy began pumping through my veins.

  “You know, I get that you take all the good genes of this family, but you could have at least tried to keep the same shade of eye color. Or let me have that,” I said gesturing with my chin.

  He shrugged with a teasing grin. “I can’t help that I’m beautiful.”

  I elbowed him in the stomach, but he never made a single flinch. I could see him observing my narrowed study of that just before I finally caught sight of the room around me. It seemed with the reunion, my mom had gone a little overboard. There were pink and red streamers and balloons everywhere. One would have mistaken the room for a Valentine’s party if not for the absence of hearts and a Happy Birthday on every wall. All of which led the eyes to a table with a two-tiered pink frosted cake that held two white inedible numbers, just above my white frosted name.

  “Well?” she said. My mom’s hands were clasped together as her eyebrows rose with an eager balance, ready to feel relieved with my excitement or ready to start all over upon my disapproval.

  It was the first time I saw my mom since last night when she had reminded me of my boundary lines until she was ready for me. A room arrest I had grown accustomed to since I was a kid. Despite a few wrinkles that now had begun forming around her face, not much had changed about my mom. Her shoulder-length auburn hair was pulled halfway up with bobby pins, except for the few strains that had escaped within the process. The sleeves of her cream-colored blouse were pulled up to her elbows, while the hunter green apron—the one she had inherited from my Grandma Adams—remained tied tightly around her thin frame. The new white frosted stains blended well with all the ones that came before.

  As always she had some form of heels on in order to give herself some height. I was only an inch taller but unlike her I had always considered myself a good average. At least that’s what I did think before I gazed back over to my brother. I could hear my inner voice reminding me that being 5'4" was short.

  “You’ve outdone yourself again. I love it,” I said.

  I had learned at an early age to appease her because it would seem awfully selfish to rein in her fun. And if letting her get to build an elaborate cake one day a year got to show off how truly talented she was in the kitchen, then I was happy to let myself enjoy her planning. Especially since she lost the opportunity to throw Sean anything. Why not be a doting daughter?

  “Man, who would have thought my niece could turn out so good looking.”

  I turned my head with a crooked lift of my lips and half roll of my eyes. I walked a few steps to wrap my arms around my Uncle Greg’s neck. Stepping back to see him, I could charismatic grin that reminded me of Sean. My uncle wasn’t big chested like my dad. He was an ex-college baseball player who had never lost that even muscle tone. The only way to tell they were brothers was by their identical chocolate brown hair and cloudy blue eyes.

  “Well, I don’t know about good looking,” I said unafraid to point out my flaws.

  “Oh, yes,” he said disagreeing. “That’s not Morgan in you. It’s all Adams.”

  He was looking right at my mother as he said her maiden name. It was no secret to Sean and me that he was fond of her. Not because my parents or my uncle ever talked about it. We just easily observed my uncle’s admiration when she was around. But nobody ever brought it up even though everything inside of me screamed to tell my mom to face that she wasn’t happy. Not that her and my dad didn’t love each other at one time, it’s just that they were never meant for each other. And now they were almost together just because it’s all they knew. If that’s what life was like, then I wanted nothing to do with love. I didn’t see the point.

  “Where is Dad?” I said, turning back to Sean.

  Feeling the lighthearted emotion of the room made me notice my father’s absence.

  “You knew I was never the real surprise,” Sean said.

  My eyes narrowed simultaneously with his crooked grin.

  “Here he is now,” my mom said from behind me.

  I could feel the cold breeze hit my skin a moment before I turned back to see she had opened the front door. Immediately as if I had asked, I felt Sean’s hand within mine. It carried a needed warmth I enjoyed as he began pulling me slightly forward. When he had just led me through the frame and onto the porch, he dropped my hand, placing himself behind me so that I had full view of the front yard. He was holding my shoulders slightly as a guide, turning me toward the driveway, before lowering his lips near my ear.

  “Surprise,” he whispered.

  My eyes widened, not at my father, but at what he was standing next to. He was placing a large red bow on the hood of a used black Volkswagen Jetta—not exactly the black vehicle I had been expecting to see from my window earlier. I felt Sean’s release, letting me step further onto the porch before I moved down the steps and toward the driveway. My mouth was slightly open as my eyes bounced from the hood up to my father’s eyes.

  “Really?” I asked upon my approach.

  It almost seemed like what everyone else was telling me and him telling me were two different things. Like there was finality with my dad’s words.

  “Really,” he confirmed with a slight nod.

  I wasn’t sure after my mom had gotten her new vehicle this year that I would still be getting one too. But here it stood. It was an older model, but for some reason, I found myself grateful. Probably because I had always believed a brand-new car was a definite, guaranteed magnet for an accident. One that would be my fault, I’m sure. Isn’t that how the luck of getting a new car is? The overexcitement is your ultimate doom. This way I had just the right amount.

  “I love it,” I said. I moved to give him a one-arm hug before gazing back at the bow. “But red bows don’t seem your style.”

  He would be more prone to just walk into my bedroom and give me the keys. No real cr
eative pretenses.

  “It was your mother’s idea,” he admitted.

  I figured as much.

  “What year is it?” I asked.

  “2001.”

  Ten-years-old was a perfect compromise. It was at that stage of not being too new that I would be anxious to drive and not too old that I would fear it breaking down. I looked up with an approving smile. He grinned back as I went to open the driver’s side door. I inhaled the baby power scent as I lowered into the seat, investigating the interior around me. “Hardly any miles on it,” he said.

  “I love it,” I repeated before wrapping my hands around the steering wheel.

  “Test drive?” he asked.

  Hearing the desperation in his voice, I looked up to catch his awkward glance from the house back to the hood of my new car. Now that the thrill of the moment was passing, I was aware of the other people watching from the porch. My dad was hoping to avoid the situation with his spontaneous request. Something to keep him from interacting with what was inside the house just a little longer. I was tempted but knew we would crave the drive for two different reasons. I didn’t like being in the middle of this family drama, but I knew who I would choose if it came down to it. My dad wouldn’t like the outcome any more than I would like awkwardly dividing the family by taking sides. Besides, there would be plenty of time to check out the car later.

  “Maybe later. Want some cake?” I asked.

  He lifted his left eyebrow with expected disappointment. “Has it already been cut?”

  “Nope. We were waiting for you.”

  Not really, but it wouldn’t hurt to plant the white lie. Making him feel needed was the secret. I projected myself out of the driver’s seat before shutting the door and holding out my hand with invitation. He sighed but eventually gave in to the power of my birthday. When we reached the door, I dropped his hand. I could almost feel the tension envelop the house like a gust of wind.