Divide (11 page)

Holland

I gasped and ducked down, trying to cover my face with my arms while keeping my fingers and hands covered as well. I struggled with the fabric of my sweater, pulling it this way and that, and then shrunk into a crouching position. I sucked in a breath as my back scratched against the stucco wall, the flash of pain forcing me to realize that my skin was exposed, and I hoped Mick couldn’t see the color of it from where he stood.

“Holland, please don’t be afraid. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Mick! What are you doing back here? Why didn’t you just leave? Please…please leave Mick. Please leave me alone. Don’t look at me!”

Mick took a few steps toward me, closing the distance between us. I watched his boots as he took each tentative step. His hand softly touched my shoulder, and I reflexively pulled away from him, scratching my back on the sharp stucco wall again. He took a deep breath, then placed his hand firmly on my shoulder once more.

“Holland? Look at me.
Please.
”

I don’t know what it was, his persistence in touching me, the softness in his words, or the promise that heavily weighted that
please
. But something made me lower my arms and look up at him, tears streaking my gray face. I laid it all out on the table and braced myself for his response, knowing he’d turn and run away from me as quickly as possible as soon as he saw my secret.

His quick intake of breath and the unnaturally widened eyes indicated my skin wasn’t back to normal. I waited for him to leave.

But he didn’t move. He reached toward me hesitantly, his fingertips just inches away from my face. I braced for the worst.

“Holland, let me—” He dropped his hand just before connecting with my skin. Probably out of fear. Or repulsion.

“Just go, Mick, please.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” he said, shrugging. “I won’t. Just let me—”

“Let you
what
, Mick? Let you help me? How? I don’t even know what’s wrong with me, okay? Just leave me!”

“I won’t.” His voice sounded firm, resolved. His reluctance to leave solidified the promise I’d heard in his earlier
please
. He wasn’t going to leave me, even though I must have been the strangest thing he’d ever seen.

He stood and removed his sweatshirt, draping it over my upper body and arranging the hood over my head. Pulling gently on my shoulders, he guided me to stand up again, then curled me into his arms. We began moving toward his truck, back the way I’d come from behind the theater. Tears continued falling, smearing onto his t-shirt, but I didn’t dare move my face away from his chest for fear someone would see me.

“How did you know where I was?”

“I was waiting for you by the entrance, saw you run out of the bathroom.”

“I told you I called Cam.” My words were muffled in his shirt.

“You don’t have a phone.”

Why wasn’t he running? How could he see me like this and still want to be near me, want to help me?
How is he being so calm about this?

As we made our way back to the parking lot, something moved inside me. Tension pushed against my chest, as though my insides wanted to come out. My breathing became slightly labored; whatever stretched and expanded inside pressed back against my lungs, constricting the space they needed to inflate as normal.

Maybe it wanted out. Whatever it was. I wondered if the grayness was only the beginning.

My fists clenched around Mick’s shirt, angrily, and without my consent. I stopped walking, slowly pulling my hands away from him to look down at them. My fingers flexed and tightened, and I blinked—trying to bring my hands into focus. The gray skin seemed to crawl around on itself.

I blinked rapidly a few more times as fear tightened in my chest, and my heartbeat thumped erratically again.

“Mick?”

“Yes,” he said as he turned to me, placing a hand on each of my shoulders.

“I don’t feel right.” Rage clenched tightly around my heart, making it more and more difficult to inhale a breath. “Oh my God, something’s wrong.”

“I know.”

“You know?” I looked up at him. “I feel like…”
I feel like I’m going to rip you apart!

“Let me get you out of here, okay?”

I glanced back toward the theater to see that a few people were coming out to the parking lot, my breath whooshing in and out of my mouth quickly, my lungs constricted almost painfully. Fear vised around my chest as my heart pumped louder in my ears. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, and there were people everywhere.

“Holland? Trust me. Let me get you out of here.”

I nodded, then pressed my face back into his chest. I couldn’t let them see me. He wrapped his arms around me once more and resumed leading me to his truck. To anyone watching, I likely looked upset or ill. I hoped.

I climbed in silently, then waited for him to get in on his side as I inhaled deeply, counting to five before letting the breath out, then repeated the action in an attempt to calm my breathing. My attempt was unsuccessful.

What’s happening to me?

Mick started the truck up, then cranked the heater on before turning toward me.

“I know you’re scared right now. Let me get you out of here before someone sees you.” Then, in a low voice I was sure he thought I couldn’t hear, he mumbled, “I can’t believe the change has star—”

He stopped speaking abruptly, then turned his head to look out the window.

The change has what? Started?
Was he going to say that? Did he know more about this than he let on? I looked up at him, but his eyes were still roving the parking lot, looking anywhere but at me.

“What?” I prodded.

“Sorry,” he said. “I thought someone was approaching the car.”

Right.
I believed that like I believed in the Tooth Fairy and Prince Charming.

“What were you about to say, Mick?” My jaw clenched against the pressure in my body, so the words were forced and almost a growl. My teeth fought to chatter, even though my body felt more heated than normal, and the vents blew warm air into the truck cab.

“Nothing. Sorry, I was talking to myself. Let’s get out of here, okay? Here—” he handed me a pair of hand-grips; my dad had a pair next to his weight bench, so I knew I was meant to squeeze them, I just didn’t know why, “—that will help you with the anxiety. Just squeeze those while I drive. I’m going to take you somewhere safe, Holland.”

Safe.
What did that word even mean? I didn’t
feel
safe. I didn’t feel protected from even myself. Anger continued to swell in my chest, growing slowly into a tight ball pressing against my ribs. Squeezing the hand grips per my instructions—and because
not
doing so meant my hands would continue itching to hit something—I closed my eyes, shaking my head as I realized I’d been safe my whole life…what was safer than a cozy home in a gated community? What was safer than two loving parents and a protective brother? Being
safe
hadn’t protected me from the pain of losing Rod and Leslie. Hadn’t protected me from the isolation that consumed me after the fire.

Safe.
Where was I supposed to go? Where was safe? Home would be the logical place, but as I thought of my mom and dad, and Cam, my body seized in a short-lived flash of heat and pain, and my fists clenched tighter around the grips. Tears pressed on the backside of my eyes, and my chest constricted further, making breathing difficult. My head felt as though it would explode, as though there wasn’t enough room for all the thoughts and fears racing around inside my skull. The pressure was consuming. Even with the strengthening tools in each hand, I had to actively try to refrain from punching the dash.

What the hell?

Whatever lurked inside me, the anger, the change…it…I couldn’t take to my family. I knew that without a doubt. Maybe if I’d alerted them sooner, they could have helped me, but not now. Not now when so much rage bubbled up inside me. I couldn’t risk hurting them, or scaring them—not after what I’d done last October. This time, I had to handle my crisis myself.

“I have a cabin in Big Bear. Let me take you there, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” Mick said.

Anything I wanted to know, huh? Even without that peculiar promise, at that moment, his cabin could be in Timbuktu and I’d have gone. I didn’t care that I’d only known him a short time, or that he seemed to be hiding something from me. I couldn’t take this home, whatever it was…a disease, or some alien creature I’d never have believed in before now…I wouldn’t take it home to my family. Maybe in running, I could keep
them
safe.

I nodded and tried to focus on calming down and controlling my breathing. He said he’d tell me everything. I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t know what he could possibly know about me, or why, or how he could know things I didn’t even know myself, but I wouldn’t endanger my family. I wouldn’t put my mom through something crazy so soon after she’d been devastated by my actions just a few short months ago.

I had to rely on this near-stranger.

I didn’t know what that meant for me, but I knew I couldn’t go home. I didn’t have any other choice.

Mick

Getting Holland to my family’s cabin wasn’t as difficult as I’d thought it would be. I assumed she’d want to go home, want to be near her family during this time, but she said nothing when I offered to take her away, just nodded her head and stared out the window, fists clenching and unclenching the hand grips I’d given her. She hadn’t even asked me how I’d known she’d need them, though maybe she just assumed I was a raging work-out guy who kept hand grips in his glove box.

She’d pulled the hood of my sweatshirt tightly around her face, so only a small circle remained to see through, and that circle wasn’t currently facing my direction.

I found it increasingly difficult to keep from touching her when every cell in my body screamed at me to hold her, protect her. Take care of her. As we made the two hour drive up to Big Bear Lake, I could barely fight the urge, but I had to. For her sake, at least. Touching her now would only put a deeper divide between us, make her cower away from me. No, I had to let her come to me.

I’d been put on this Earth to find Holland, to help her through this, and to ultimately break the curse. If only I could tell her everything now; if only I didn’t have to lie to her.

If only.

Man, I just wanted to hold her. Wanted to show her I wasn’t afraid. But I couldn’t do that if she wouldn’t let me, and the way she was all curled up in a ball and pressed against the passenger side door as far from me as possible wasn’t looking very good for my cause.

Should I tell her the truth?
Could I ignore the centuries-old rules and tell her everything? Could I risk pushing her away, if the information about our intertwined fates didn’t bring her closer to me?

I was supposed to have more time. So much more time. I was supposed to have time to earn her trust, her love. Then I could have helped her.
Then
I could have done the job I was meant to do.

I could have beaten the curse for our families once and for all.

She moved in her seat, readjusting for the first time since we’d left the theater parking lot, and her stomach growled. The sound reminded me that there was still life inside her. Which meant there was still hope. I would not fail the way the men in my lineage had failed before me. I would not fail her.

“Mick?”

She speaks.
She still stared out the window, and her voice was scratchy and thick; I imagined tears continued to fall from her gray eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Today’s my birthday.”

What?
I snapped my head to the side to look at her, faced again with the back of my hoodie.
How could that be?

“That’s not right. How could it…?” She wasn’t supposed to be eighteen until the end of March. I tried focusing my thoughts to figure out what day it was. February thirteenth. It was only February thirteenth. How could it be her birthday already?

“What’s not right?”

When I didn’t respond, unable to speak with all of the thoughts screaming through my mind, she peeked over at me, searching my face.

“Okay,” she said, drawing the word out slowly on a sigh. “Most people would have said
Happy Birthday
, Mick.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I couldn’t tell her I thought she was wrong, that I thought her birthday wasn’t for another month and a half at least. But this would explain everything. This would explain why I hadn’t had enough time, why we were in this situation now. Why she’d already started to change.

“Happy Birthday, Holland.”

Without another word, she turned back around and faced the window again, pushing me out once more.

How could such an important date be incorrect? And dangerously so. I’d have to get her settled and go dig through my files and notes. There was no way I miscalculated, but the proof was right in front of me, staring out the window through dull gray eyes, with her back to me in order to shut me out and keep me away.

I had to stop halfway up the mountain to throw on my chains. The snow wasn’t falling too heavily at the moment, but it was still thick on the ground in places, and I didn’t want to take any risks. I had to get Holland safely inside the cabin before anyone saw her like this.

She stirred only once while we drove through Big Bear. She turned in my direction, and I dared sneak a peek at her while she stared past me toward the lake. While the snow-covered landscape held her attention, I examined her skin, gauging how far into the change we were. She caught me and turned away again quickly, embarrassment and shame clouding her eyes.

Damn. I didn’t want her to think I was staring.

I wished I could tell her the truth; tell her why I was here. I wished I could explain that I could break the spell if she’d let me. But I knew that would just freak her out more. I’d have to find a way to reveal everything to her in time, but I couldn’t rush it out of selfishness.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, surprising me and pulling me from my thoughts, just seconds before I swerved off the side of the highway. I yanked the wheel to the side, straightening us out, and Holland didn’t even look over or chastise me. After my heart stopped pounding, I held the wheel with one hand while I read the text message from Ro, who wondered where I was, and if I was with Holland since she hadn’t shown up at school today.

Holland’s skipping school would be a regular thing now. She’d never get to graduate on time. Though, if I failed, there’d be much greater consequences than a missed high school graduation.

I was supposed to have had more time. At least another month, and maybe I could have gained her trust. A little more time with her and maybe we’d have stood a chance against what was happening.

I couldn’t figure out how today was her birthday. It was all wrong.

I tucked my phone back into my pocket; Ro would just have to wait until I got Holland settled in at the cabin.

I pulled up to the old wooden house, and a flood of memories consumed me. Playing with Ro when we were kids, making her squeal when I chased her with a lizard or some other wild creature I’d found in the woods; fishing with my dad when I was twelve; listening to my mom and Ro’s mom argue on the porch, never understanding why dad couldn’t figure out how to get along with either of them; watching Ro’s mom finally leave him the way my mom had years earlier.

Finding out on my fifteenth birthday that I was a descendant of legend, and the key to breaking a spell I’d only ever heard about in fairytales.

My father teaching me how to be the man I was supposed to be, so that once I found Holland, I’d be ready—both physically and emotionally prepared.

Next, was the memory of my father on his death bed, right here in this cabin. As cancer slowly ripped him from my grasp, he made me swear to him that I would not fail our family. I made that promise with confidence, knowing that
this
time would be the
last
time.

Since the previous Destined had been born and failed at his prophecy, the men before me trained only to be able to carry on the training for their sons. It ended with me. I was determined to be the one to break the spell and stop the curse from repeating—keeping any of Holland’s family’s future descendants from going through this pain. Otherwise, the curse would continue. The story would weave legend and fairytale together year after year until she surfaced again in four generations.

But I wouldn’t let that happen. I didn’t know about the incarnations before Holland, or how the men had felt about them, but
I’d
known with one look at her that I couldn’t let the spell take her. It had to stop with her.

I wanted a future for her. I wanted a future for
us
.