Bound in Blood 1 Clandestine (3 page)

She wanted to ask the stranger if he knew what that monster
did to her. He must have had some knowledge on the subject.
Why else would he carry around some kind of bite kit? No
matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to make her lips
form the words.
Instead, she finished applying the medicine and paused in
the act of clicking the cap into place. Emily brought the tube up
to her nose and attempted a nonchalant sniff at the foreign
substance. Oddly, it almost smelled like blueberries. Huh.
Without another thought, Emily pushed up her sleeve and rubbed
the medicine over the wound that was no longer numb, but
flaming hot. At least it was until the blueberry substance touched
it, simmering to a tingle and was completely extinguished. Wow,
this stuff is wonderful, she thought as she repositioned her shirt
and snapped the lid back on the tube.
Responding to the click of the lid, the guy turned around to
face Emily again. “Well miss, we should get you home.” His
words sounded formal and polite.
The use of the word
miss
almost made her laugh again. He
didn’t sound much older than her, if at all. She wondered what
was with the formalities. He was probably still trying to reassure
her that he wasn’t going to take over the job of killing her. Quite
considerate of the stranger really, she thought absently.
He led Emily out of the alley ,the same way she had been
pushed in. She could tell they were in the same vicinity of where
she had been attacked. She could feel the nearness of the back of
the building to her left. When they reached the dip, indicating the
road, he pushed on her arm to the right. How did he know which
way she needed to go? It was more than likely just a
coincidence, a perfect one at that.
What happened to her attacker? Shouldn’t they have run
into him? Stepped over him? Maybe they hadn’t walked in the
same area. No,that’s not right, she knew they did and she never
heard him being moved. Her muscles were tight and she felt
exhausted. Her mind blurred with questions,but she couldn’t
seem to stay focused on one thought for long.
When they got to the corner, her whole body relaxed under
the welcoming blaze of the street light. She smiled to herself at
the sight of cars driving by. They were witnesses if the guy
changed his mind and attacked her. Emily wondered how much
time had passed since she left Blake’s. She glanced up at the
man who had saved her, still not totally sure, thathe wasn’t
leading her to yet another location, where death awaited.
Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. This guy
seriously had to be the absolute hottest guy, she had ever seen.
She made an effort not to stare, whichdidn’t work out so well.
He didn’t seem to notice, thank God. His eyes were focused on
the walk sign on the other side of the street. Lucky for her, this
intersection had a very long light giving her a chance to covertly
examine him.
He had blonde hair with a slight wave to it. It was neatly
kept, not at all like those loser surfer wannabe guys, she always
saw loping around. She never understood, why guys assumed it
was cute to look like they just crawled out of bed. His skin was
tanned perfectly. The cerulean blue of his eyes was dazzling.
Even his nose was perfection. His lips were full, almost pouty.
They looked smooth and very kissable.
Wait… kissable? What was she thinking? This man might
be planning to make her disappear off the face of the earth and
she’s drooling over his pouty lips? She looked away quickly,
feeling foolish. Absently, she watched the cars speeding by,
pondering whether or not she should jump in front of one at an
attempt at rescue. Honestly, shedidn’t feel like she was still in
danger. He seemed strong but harmless.
Emily felt silly about the worry, nagging at the back of her
mind. She was being paranoid, at least she hoped she was. This
was a public street after all. They were walking in the direction
of her own house. Clearly she wasn’t in danger. This was the
same guy that saved her life. If he planned to do her harm, he
had a chance to do so discreetly back in the alley. There would
be no point in the theatrics of posing, as a knight in shining
armor.
Helplessly, she found her eyes drifting back to stare at him
again. He was almost a head taller than her, broad shouldered
and wore a tight fitting, long sleeved knit shirt. She could see
that his chest was very well-defined. Emily looked away again,
mortified. My God, she thought. What was wrong with her?
Where was her sense of self-preservation? She apparently had a
deep seeded death wish. Just then the light changed and the sign
across from where they stood, switched to walk.
He nudged her elbow and they started off the curb. Once
across, he walked up another block and turned left. Where was
he going? She wanted to ask, but again she couldn’t make her
mouth cooperate.
He was walking with a smooth confident stride,that didn’t
give her any sense of menace. It seemed as though he was
heading toward where she lived. That wasn’t possible, she had
never seen this person before in her life. He couldn’t know who
she was, let alone where she lived.
She knew she should say something, anything. Instead, she
kept walking feeling ridiculous. He saved her life and she
couldn't even say thank you, if nothing else. Well, either that or
she could attempt to decipher, where it was they were going.
He held on to her arm tightly, butshe didn’t feel trapped. It
seemed he was trying to hold her up, which was nice. Her body
felt as though it weighed four hundred pounds. In addition to
that, it seemed like there were heavy sand bags in her shoes.
Fatigue overwhelmed her and yet, she was wide awake.
At that moment, Emily realized her entire body was
trembling. She must be in shock, that’s why she couldn’t speak.
She did feel cold. However, she had figured that was the
temperature outside and not her body’s reaction to the trauma.
What exactly had happened? Her memory was starting to
feel fuzzy, something bad happened. He saved her, but what had
he saved her from? She barely had time to gasp, when she
stumbled clumsily over a crack in the sidewalk. He stiffened his
hold and she never lost a step. Great, now he was saving her
from herself.
After walking for what seemed like forever, they were
turning down Elm Street. She had lived on this road her entire
life. He couldn’t know that, could he? Maybe he lives nearby? It
was possible that he had seen her around. Without a pause, he
walked three doors down and to the left.
Emily’s house looked creepy in the dark. Some of the faded
white paint was chipping and the yard needed a good mowing.
Her dad usually kept it short, although lately had been slacking
off immensely.
As he directed her up the path to the front door, she noticed
no porch lights were on. Good, her dad wasn’t home yet. That
meant she had time to throw something together for dinner
before he had time to lose it.
Finally, he spoke, “Here, you're safe and sound. If you are
able to recall anything from tonight, be sure not to tell anyone.
It’s less complicated that way,I assure you.” He peered down at
her intently, conveying the importance of what he was saying.
If I’m able, she thought. The memories were already fading
without her permission. Somewhere inside her, she knew that
wasn’t normal, she justcouldn’t muster enough worry to care.
“Why?” She asked confused. “Shouldn’t I call the police?” How
could she not tell the police or Sam that she was attacked? That
was just madness, crimes should be reported.
His face grew hard asstone. “Absolutely not,” he said
firmly. “That won’t do you any good.” Emily started to protest
but he cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Look. There are
things at work here that the police can’t fix.” His beautiful eyes
softened a fraction. “I need you to promise you won’t tell. I can’t
explain now,but it’s important.”
It was always necessary to report an attack like this to the
police. Emily knew that. The mantra kept replaying in her ears
over and over again. Even though she knew it, she found herself
nodding stupidly at him. She wasn’t a weak person. No way was
she one of those girls, who were easily persuaded by a guy’s
power of manipulation. There was just something about him that
made her confident that this time; this one was speaking the
truth. She wondered idly if he was part of some crazy
conspiracy.
His answering smile cleared that right up. “Good.” He
turned to walk away and Emily realized she didn’t know his
name.
She turned back to ask and he wasn’t there. He must have
run. Man, maybe he was a ghost sent down to rescue her. At this
point nothing would surprise her. She turned back to the door,
fishing her key out of her purse. Once it was in the lock, the door
flew open revealing darkness. All she had time for was a squeak
before she was abruptly pulled in the house by her shirt. The
door slammed shut and locked behind her with a clank of sliding
metal.

The intruder threw Emily across the room, her body slid
into the wall. She curled in on herself, waiting for the next
onslaught of pain. She was near the entrance to the kitchen, close
to the knives. She didn’t know if she could get to them in time,
but she had to try. She up onto her hands and knees, as the
overhead light of the living room came on and moved towards
the kitchen. Impulsively, she turned her head towards movement
out of the corner of her eye.

Emily saw her father and let out a sigh, "Dad!" Sam, her
father stood across the room from her. It was a relief that it
wasn't a mass murderer or her savior gone bad. She thought it
strange that he had parked in the garage and snuck up on her.
Her good natured feeling was replaced, when she recognized her
father's cold expression that she recognized all too well. His eyes
were glassy, his graying hair tousled and his red, flannel shirt
was open, revealing his stained white undershirt. His average
sized body swayed slightly, as she watched him, causing her
anxiety to return with each sway.

“What do you think you were doing?” He might have
spoken a simple question, though it shot out at Emily
execution
style
.

What was she supposed to say? Oh gee, I was attacked and
the guy bit me. Don’t worry, just in the nick of time some hot
stranger made the bad guy disappear. He probably killed him,
then after walking me home, he disappeared. So, how was your
day? No, that probably wasn't a good plan. Besides, she would
sound completely delusional and he already thought everything
out of her mouth was a lie anyway. Not to mention, she still
couldn’t recall the events perfectly. It seemed that the more time
passed, the less she could remember.

Emily gulped. “Sorry
, dad. I got held up at the store with
inventory…”
Sam closed the distance between them in four wobbly
strides. “Don’t lie to me girl!” He hauled her to her feet and
slapped her face. The blow was so hard that she almost lost her
balance. “Your hair’s a mess and your clothes arewrinkled.”
Spittle flew towards her between words. Emily tried not to
outwardly cringe.
“I’m not,I swear.” Emily squeaked fighting back tears
because they would show a weakness that she knew he hated
more than anything.
“Damn it Emily!” He struck her with the back of his hand.
Emily fell to the floor, hitting her head on the old, ratty
couch and stayed where she landed. It was a fairly, old piece of
solid wood furniture. A blast of pain shot through her head at
impact. It wasn’t hard enough for a concussion, which was
something. Knowing it wasn't wise for her to respond, Emily
remained quiet. Her face felt hot and painful where he had struck
her. She watched him, pressing her hand to her cheek and willing
the pain to dull.
“I’ve been watching for you. Figured I’d find out you were
up to God knows what. So, I set myself up at the window. Sure
enough, you come strolling up with a deadbeat.” Sam didn’t slur
very much when he was drunk, but his hand gestures were all
over the place. He talked with his hands when he was sober and
after drinking the movements became more erratic. He was
quieter now but she knew better than to test her luck.
“Dad, there was a weird guy lurking around the alley. So, a
nice man offered to walk me home. I’ve never met him before-"
He interrupted, “LIES! The worst thing is that you were
with one of… them.” The words were colored with so much
distain and disgust that it made her flinch, expecting another
blow. “I don’t ever want to see you with that
thing
again. Do I
make myself clear?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer
before he continued. “Go to bed. I was going to surprise you, I
ate at the tavern. You’re off duty tonight.” His words came out in
a furious slur that was hard to focus on.
Saying nothing, Emily gave him a defeated nod and
collected herself off the hardwood floor. There was no point in
trying to talk sense into him when he was drunk. She hurried
passed him and down the hall to her room.
The family pictures that lined the wall on either side of her
were no longer a comfort. They hadn’t been for a long time.
Instead, they were was a constant reminder that her “happy, little
family” was gone and never coming back. The year her mom
died, they had taken a family photo at the lake. To look at her
dad in that picture in contrast to the way he looked now was
alarming. If someone hadn’t known him back then, they
probably wouldn’t have even believed it was him.
Once Emily was in her room with the door closed and
locked, a mild feeling of comfort spread through her. Things
could have been worse, Sam could have forced her to stay out
there with him. That would have been a fate far more tragic then
what she had already endured. This night royally sucked. Emily
couldn’t imagine what else could possibly have gone wrong.
She would have to wait to shower until after he went to
sleep. Well, passed out would be the more operative word for the
situation. Emily started for the dresser, where her bright orange
iPod was charging and quickly changed her mind. Any other
time she was upset, she would use the iPod as a distraction. The
blaring music was a wonderful way of drowning out all the
negative thoughts in her head. Sometimes she would even sing
along, but not tonight. She had too much to think about. Emily
had to remember exactly what happened. She knew she couldn’t
go to the police,they’d commit her for sure. Besides that, she
promised she wouldn’t.
She went to her bed, sat down and curled her sore legs up,
hugging her knees. The pains that gripped her muscles were pure
agony, making her eyes sting fiercely with unshed tears. With all
the chaos tonight,she hadn’t had much chance to take inventory
of the damage. The muscles in her legs screamed in protest, as
she felt her knees and calves. She rolled her shoulders and
arched her back. Immediately, she winced as she felt what had to
be a bruise forming between her shoulder blades. Judging by the
amount of pain, it was a very large bruise or perhaps several. She
raised her hand to the sting on her left cheek. It was scraped from
the gravel in the alley or maybe from her dad’s "affections"
earlier. Either option was possible.
Emily stopped her examination to lay down on her side,
drawing her legs into a fetal position. She moved slowly, it hurt
too badly to straighten them. She let her eyes close and her mind
drift back to the events of the evening. Her memory was fuzzy,
but the fear was there behind her lids.
She knew she had been pushed down, though she couldn’t
remember where. Someone attacked her, but that other guy had
stopped it. While he seemed nice,she couldn’t get a clear picture
of what he looked like. The details were out of focus and dark
around the edges. Did the good guy kill the bad one? She
couldn’t remember. If he did,the body couldn’t have just
disappeared. Was she blocking out that part along with the
others? Also, after she got to her door, how did that guy leave so
fast? Her mind flashed from one image to the next. It was trying
to decipher any code her memories might give her.
Then there was her dad’s odd reaction to her protector. It
was more than a dad being worried about his daughter getting a
boyfriend. Emily was sure of that. Her dad had a habit of raging
when he was belligerently drunk, but that was something else. In
her mind’s eye, she could see his face right after he turned the
light on. His eyes were narrowed into slits and his leathery skin
was tight against his set jaw. Despite the anger, was that a hint of
fear in his eyes? What could make him so afraid that he morphed
it into outrage, so strong that he would look at her with such
hatred? He acted as though she had betrayed him. He had already
eaten at the bar, so she knew this had nothing to do with dinner
not being ready.
She used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe the tears, running
down her face, streaking her cheeks. Pain flashed again, she
touched her face and clenched her teeth to fight against it.
The entire situation was weird, but there was no time to feel
sorry for herself. She had to figure everything out one way or
another. Luckily, all of her problems would be waiting for her
after she got some rest. That was a prospect she wasn’t looking
forward to in the least.
It had probably been enough time; Sam should be deep into
his drunken coma, making it safe to venture to the shower. Emily
got up, cracked her door, and listened intently for Sam's
chainsaw snoring. The drunker he became the worse he snored.
Sure enough, it only took a second to hear the deep sounds of his
nights end, billowing down the hall to where she stood.
She hurried back to her dresser to grab clean clothes. The
bottom drawer was filled with the pajamas her mother had
bought for her. Sorting through them, Emily opted for a deep
purple shorts and camisole set in a soft, satin material. They
were comfy and after everything that had happened, she could
use a little comfort.
After that, she tiptoed to the hall closet, retrieved a towel
and was off to the privacy of the bathroom. There she could
relax and ease the pain indented deep within her bones. The
thought of the hot water and steam was enticing, but the feel of
the linoleum under her bare feet was shockingly cold.
The mirror above the sink frightened Emily. It showed the
reflection of a girl who hadn't slept in days. Dark circles curled
under her eyes, she was pale and her hair was ratty and dirty. She
did see one plus, the scrape along her cheek didn’t look bad
enough to leave a scar. In fact, it looked more irritated than
anything else. She hoped that meant it would heal quickly.
The hot water was a Godsend and it didn’t take long for all
of her muscles to unwind. She was still sore but it was
understandable, after what she had been through.
She couldn’t get the picture of the man who protected her
out of her mind. There was something about him that in the short
time she knew him, she knew he was unlike anyone else in this
god forsaken town. He was mysterious, strong and gentle with a
warm presence. He wouldn’t give her straight answers, which
proved he had something to hide. Realistically she couldn’t hold
that against him. Everyone had bones rattling in their closets.
Emily knew that better than anyone else. The hinges had been
blown off all the closet doors in her house on more than one
occasion. Regardless of what he was hiding, his actions tonight
had shown he was a good guy. The memory of his face made
Emily's heart thud and her stomach flutter with butterflies.
Her abdomen suddenly growled, demanding refueling.
Crap, she hadn’t eaten all day. Between work and everything
else food had slipped her mind. Sam probably wouldn’t have let
her in the kitchen, even if she had thought about it. It was clear
that her bedroom would be her only sanctuary for the night.
If Emily was careful, she could grab a bagel after her
shower. It shouldn’t wake her dad from his slumber on the
springy, uncomfortable couch. It never used to be so dilapidated,
but sleeping on it religiously for the past five years had worn it
down. She wondered if it was too hard for him to sleep in the
bed, he once shared with her mom. He would never admit it,
viewing it as a show of weakness. Emily’s mother, Melissa had
told her that the ability to show weakness gives the ability to
embrace strength.
After Melissa died, Emily's dad's drinking got worse. He
had always been a drinker,but it didn’t become a form of self-
medication until that horrible night.
Sam had always been a brick wall when it came to Emily.
He regretted that she wasn't a boy her entire life. He loved her,
he just didn't say or show itlike some “daddies" did.
He was different with her mother. Melissa had a way of
keeping him in check. He might not have showered her with
flowers, candy and romance, but it was evident to all that she
was his main purpose.
Emily noticed that his drinking had become increasingly
worse in the last few weeks. She wondered why, but knew she
would likely never know. He’s not exactly an open book. He was
closer to a locked diary that never had a key to start with. Living
in the Jameson house taught Emily to keep her mouth shut and to
herself. She wished things were different, yet knew there wasn’t
anything she could do about it. She resigned herself to learning
how to deal by counting down the days, until she could leave for
school.
The shower had been blissful, but the water had begun to
turn cold, bringing Emily to turn it off. She rushed to get
dressed, because her stomach had gone from a slight growl, to
full fledge conversations.
She sneaked into the kitchen in stealth mode, to avoid
disturbingthe grizzly’s hibernation. Emily had done this so
many times that she had the activity down to an art. Once in
front of the fridge, she propped open the door with her hip and
pushed the button for the light with her left hand. With her other
hand, she removed the lid from the gallon of milk and began
guzzling.
The milk did wonders for her scratchy throat. The feel of it
traveling into her empty stomach was amazing. Hey, maybe milk
really did do a body good, she thought picturing the "Got Milk”
commercials. Her hand weakly shook under the weight of the jug
until returning it to the shelf. Okay, so it may do a body good but
she needed to start lifting weights or something. The minuscule
weight of a milk jug shouldn’t make her arms shake. No doubt
the nights events hadn’t done much for her muscle stamina or
endurance. That had to be it, because she knew she was stronger
than that.
There weren’t a whole lot of options for food. A trip to the
grocery store would have to be carried out soon. Lord knew Sam
wouldn’t do it, therefore it was left to Emily. The only store he
ever entered was the liquor store. She went to the counter,
grabbed a bagel and headed back to her room, pleased with her
OO7 sneaking skills.
Man, she hadn’t completely realized how starving she was,
until she closed her bedroom door and stuffed the last bite in her
mouth. Maybe she should have gotten two? Oh well, she was too
tired to care.
The bed seemed to beckon to her, calling her name in sweet
purring whispers. She responded obediently, crawling into her
comfy full size bed and pulling the covers around her neck. The
old comforter was black with orange poke-a-dots. She even had
orange curtains to match with black sheers underneath.
As she nestled in, she willed herself not to think about the
day’s drama, making a silent promise to herself. She desperately
needed sleep and her problems could be dealt with tomorrow. It
would be the only way sleep would take over. Her selfproclaimed promise was broken, but it stilldidn’t take long for
her lids to droop and she willingly gave in to her exhaustion.