Layers Off (3 page)

Now at fifteen and under constant surveillance, I had to be creative so that my social life wasn’t completely imaginary. I’d snuck out the window a few times, only to find a squad of reds and blues parked around the theater when I left the movies or a friend’s house. After that my parents installed a window sensor in my room, and my house became like a prison. How would I ever meet a boy suitable for dating if this continued? And finding someone my parents would approve of was a task I vowed to accomplish. The recent pixie do that I had cut and styled myself definitely made a statement (one about which my parents were furious), but how was I supposed to showcase it to anyone if I couldn’t go out? There had to be a way.

Yet today, on this perfect morning as I stared out the train’s window at the passing yellow fields of wheat stretching out and colliding with the horizon, an odd feeling lingered in my stomach, as if my life was about to be changed with one single decision – and it wouldn’t be my own. My parents had been acting weird the past twenty-four hours. Could this trip bring us closer together, or would it tear us apart?

We sat in the upper lounge, where the glass rooftop and sidewalls gave a perfect panoramic view of the plains. I’d been mesmerized by the scenery for over half an hour, wondering what the Canadian west coast would look like. But first we had a stopover at the Fairmont in Banff – a castle-like resort nestled in the valley of Rocky Mountains, overlooking a turquoise lake that looked like the center of the world (at least, it had on Google). Would the hot snowboarders hang out on the slopes or in the lounges? And how much leeway would I have while we stayed there?
Perhaps I should make plans to experience the resort on my own?

As I reveled in the idea of meeting a nice guy who could finally break my parents’ shell, we entered a tunnel. The train slowed around a curve. The lounge turned black for a moment, and before the dim lights illuminated the cabin with a soft glow from the floor, I saw their reflection.

Those feelings I had never understood the other girls raving about flooded my system. From tingles in my hands to sweat on my back and butterflies in my stomach, I fought to keep my mouth closed. How in the world did I miss them before?
Hemsworth brothers watch out, you have some competition!

The two model-like brothers, whose genes had definitely been brewed in a pool of pure jaw-dropping hotness, could have passed for twins. They sat crossed legged, scrolling on their iPads. Their fluffy hair, tossed to the side, appeared to have been modeled by a professional. Right away I knew they had a good sense of style hiding beneath those polo shirts and crisply ironed slacks. All trim and proper, the boys – no, men – couldn’t have been more than twenty, which made them a perfect target
pour moi
. The one further away appeared older by a year or two. The look in his eyes held danger and excitement, and I wondered whether he went for younger girls. I must have been served four-leafed clovers for breakfast this morning to be so lucky as to find them on this train. How had I not noticed them before?

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I said to my mom, who fortunately was too busy reading a book on her tablet to notice the source of my new fixation.

“Catch your father at the front first, please. And tell him where you’re going. Be careful, Kat.” For a moment I thought I’d heard a slight tremble in my mom’s voice, like this was our last minute together. She squeezed my hand tightly, reluctantly letting it go. She couldn’t have been worried about security. I’d overheard my father saying they’d hired a team of professionals, who wouldn’t be seen and whom I hadn’t seen since we boarded, to protect us.

Without wanting an argument or to draw too much attention at myself, I complied and headed in the opposite direction of the bathrooms toward my father. He stood in the corridor between the train carts, with his phone in his hand, talking to a man whose back was turned to me. As I approached I heard the man say, “It’s either your career or your daughter, Stephen.”

What was that about?
And before the man could say anything else, my father noticed me and nudged him with his elbow. Whatever their conversation entailed, I knew my father would never let his career suffer, so whatever he had crafted for my future, it just couldn’t be good. But at that moment I had more important things on my mind – namely bachelor numbers one and two that I planned on stalking for the rest of the trip. Not wanting to upset my mother and draw unneeded attention, I stepped up on my toes and kissed my father on his cheek. Earning some bonus
daddy’s girl
points was my specialty too. “I’m just heading to the bathroom,” I whispered.

His eyes glistened. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” I said, acutely aware how odd it was for us to have this kind of an exchange in front of a stranger.

Leaving him there, with a man he was probably doing business with and whom I didn’t care to look at, I made my way back through the glassed lounge.

As I passed my mom, she blew me a kiss and bit her lip. Did I see a crumpled tissue in her fist? But my questions to my mother would have to wait; curiosity led me toward the end of the train with the bathrooms. I squared my shoulders and pushed the two little peaks in my bra forward. I was a late bloomer, but given my mom’s natural cleavage, there was still some hope for me. With my head held high, I finally strolled passed the two hunks, warily peeking at the content on their iPads. Images of tattooed arms and piercings shone on both their devices.

I knew they’re not the goody two-shoes boys they’re portraying!

When I paused for longer than intended, one of them – the older one – looked up. And that first connection of ours hit me. I felt as if I was lying down right in the middle of the train tracks, letting the train cars pass over me one by one, unable to move because if I did I’d die.

He grinned with a lopsided smile, reducing my legs to jelly. I quickly looked away and focused on the end of the car, where I was supposed to be heading, nearly tripping over my feet. Feeling my face heat, I could only imagine my beet-red cheeks on display.

I’m such a doofus!

Inside the bathroom, I washed my face with cold water and waited a few minutes until my pulse somewhat slowed. While fixing my white infinity scarf I pinched my cheeks to add a natural tone to their shade. I should have said something witty instead of running away like an immature kid! But I’d never met anyone like
them.
With just one look, gravity was stolen from underneath me. How in the world had I been so lucky to see them? I must have slept on a bed of horseshoes, too. With a deep breath of courage, I opened the door, planning in my mind to ask them about the weather. No,
that
was stupid. We were on a train, where the weather didn’t really matter. Besides, when not inside the tunnel, we could see the sunshine beaming through the windows and not a trace of cloud in the sky.
Maybe I should ask them whether they’re staying at the Fairmont too?

Stepping out of the bathroom, I lost my footing and bumped into someone.

“I’ve got you,” he said, holding the sides of my arms to steady my stance. When I looked up, there he was, staring at me from above as if he had actually been waiting for me, those gem-like hazel eyes boring right through me.

“Is it safe to go in there?” he asked.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did he think I stunk up the bathroom?
O.M.G. This couldn’t have been more embarrassing!

“I’m kidding, sweets. What’s your name?” He leaned against the door I’d shut, blocking my way. The smell of him was intoxicating. His manly scent was unlike any of the borrowed colognes the boys in my class wore.

“K... Katherine, but everyone calls me Kat.” My body did not feel like I owned it.
Come on! You got this!
I said to myself.

“And yours?” For the next decade I would wonder how I’d managed to speak at that moment.

“Julian. Julian Cross.” He extended his hand, presenting himself as if he were James Bond or something. But there was no way any of the Bonds could compare to Julian, because
they
didn’t step out of heaven. I fought the urge to look behind him to see whether he’d tucked a pair of wings on his back, because if someone told me he was an angel, I’d believe them.

I reached my hand forward. My frozen limb got lost in his big grip as he shook it.

“Should I ask to have the temperature raised?”

I stared into his deep eyes, feeling a rush of excitement roll through my body. Could you possibly fall in love at first sight?

“Why?”

“Because your hands are freezing.”

That’s when I noticed both my palms were encased in his big hands. Julian gently massaged them, then drew them up and blew a warm breath of air. I leaned against the wall for support.

Someone please hit me over the head so I can speak again!

Yet I couldn’t get a sound out of my mouth. Julian stood there, warming my hands while looking into my eyes, and I got that feeling in my belly I could trust him with my life.

“Are you picking up young girls again?” a voice said from behind him.

Julian let go of my hand and turned with a frown toward the look-a-like from the aisle whom I thought was his brother. And as fast as our one-minute connection had begun, it ended even more quickly.

“Hi, I’m Tristan.” He thrust his hand forward, pushing between us.

“Kat,” I said in a braver tone, greeting him.

Tristan didn’t seem as intimidating as Julian, perhaps because he was a bit younger. Though their resemblance was out of this world, I still felt more drawn to the older brother, who I swear was eating me alive with his penetrating gaze.

“Are you here on a family vacation?” I asked.

The brothers looked from one to the other, and Tristan replied, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Crap, did I say something wrong? Was this immature of me?

Julian and Tristan were old enough to travel on their own; why would I assume they were here with the family? Perhaps because they looked so alike?

“We’re visiting an aunt on the West coast,” Julian interrupted my thoughts. “And you?”

“Oh...” Suddenly our stopover at Fairmont didn’t seem as important as staying on this train with the duo.

Tristan passed us and now stood behind me. For a moment I felt like I was the filling of a hunky sandwich. I didn’t know where to look, back or forward.
Why would he do that?
It made concentrating on either of them nearly impossible.

A high-pitched sound pierced my ears as the screeching brakes halted the train’s momentum, raising goose bumps on my arms. I flew forward, right into Julian’s arms. He gripped a handle overhead, supporting both his weight and mine as the force pushed us together. Tristan was right behind me, squeezing me onto Julian. The older brother’s head whipped toward the lounge we had been sitting in a few minutes earlier. He looked back to Tristan and something passed between them, as if they were privy to a secret I wasn’t aware of. McSteamy and McDreamy definitely had some kind of a brotherly connection going on.

A blasting sound of ricocheting shots vibrated in my ears. I’d heard gunshots before – though oddly, I couldn’t remember where – and this couldn’t have been anything else. Screams and cries were next, as one after another the calculated bullets echoed from the lounge as if someone was walking from one row to another, killing the passengers. There weren’t that many of them there, perhaps half dozen, but my parents...

My parents!

I looked over Julian’s shoulder as the culprit in a black mask pointed a barrel at my mother.

My scream was muffled by Julian’s hand. Tristan opened the bathroom door and pushed us inside. Gripping my arm with his free hand, Julian held me against him.

Squeezed between the brothers, I felt my eyes well up and cheeks moisten. I noticed Tristan was holding my limp hands, rubbing them between his. The worry of his expression eased into my body, and I wondered whether we were next on the list.

“Shh, Kat, I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Julian whispered into my ear as if he’d known me for years. “We can’t do anything for them now. I’m going to let go of your mouth if you promise not to scream. Can you do that for me?”

I nodded.

“Good girl.” He slowly removed his hand. Tristan hopped up onto the toilet and began fumbling with the light fixture overhead.

The train had completely stopped now. A faint smell of gun powder and other chemicals, including gasoline, wafted into the small compartment we were squeezed inside. The shots got louder each time I took a breath.

“They’re going to kill us.” I didn’t want my hands to shake the way they did. I wanted to appear brave, like the brothers, but my body was acting all on its own. And my breaths – they were so shallow, dark spots appeared in front of my eyes.

“Shh, I’ve got you. Breathe,” Julian repeated, looking right into my eyes, guiding my next breath with his own. I inhaled deeply. “Good girl.”

His approval helped me take another breath in and let it out, copying the way he was breathing.

“Just stay quiet, Kat.”

Once Tristan removed the light, the bathroom darkened. I heard him fumbling for a few more seconds. Julian’s hands slid to my waist. In any other circumstance, I would be all over him, probably making out, but my body shook as it shifted to a self-preservation mode. And what had happened to Tristan? Had he slipped out of the bathroom?

“Put your hands up. I’m going to lift you. Tristan will help you up in the compartment above.”

Is this really happening?

I did as Julian instructed. As soon as my hands were in the air, I felt Tristan’s firm grip. He pulled me up with ease, and Julian guided my legs to balance on his shoulders.
Thank God I wore jeans today!
I crawled on my knees toward Tristan. Up here, thin slits in the side walls illuminated the knee-high passageway. Julian was right behind me with a flashlight in his mouth.
Where in the world did he get that?
He closed the hatch on the ceiling and turned my way.