Siren's Song (24 page)

Can't breathe. Must breathe
. Sparkles erupt in my peripheral vision and I draw in a shaky breath. A small smile turns up the corners of my mouth. “We'll see. I'm really not all that interesting.”

Luke's chuckle bursts out of him. It's infectious and I let out a small laugh. He steps up to me then, and leans down immediately to capture my upturned lips against his. The kiss wraps around me, encompassing all my thoughts and worries; even my hopes seem lost in the smell, feel and taste of Luke. I'm certain now that I should be afraid. Afraid because I'm sure now that I've met the love of my life at seventeen. And I'll never be the same again.

* * *

Dad gets home super late and is too wrapped up in getting the place ready for Mom's return to give me a date when we can go with him to Gentec. I help him to dust and sweep, change sheets that haven't been changed in two months–my parent's, not mine. All pictures of the Ashes have been replaced with photos from our family albums. Flowers grace the crumb-free table. Dad even asks me to bathe Mica, much to her dismay.

I leave him catching up on e-mails as I head upstairs for the night. “You know, Dad, Mom's going to know you're going overkill here. She knows we're slobs at heart.” He glances up at me, the old twinkle back in his eyes. He doesn't say anything, just smiles. I smile back and nod. “But she'll appreciate it.”

“Thanks,” he says. “For taking care of things these last couple of months. You can really hold it together, for a teenager.”

I nod and turn. Hold it together? Is that what I've been doing? I guess a normal teenager with a mother in the loony bin, a possible stalker, and a boyfriend with a blood curse trying not to kill her might very well haven fallen apart by now. Mica sniffs along my heels as I trudge up the steps. I sigh and catch my breath, pausing. Would Luke hear that? My hand trembles on the railing, but I start walking again. Yeah, falling apart here. I wonder a bit bleakly what I'll be like when the pieces get put back together,
if
they get put back together.

* * *

“Uh, thanks, Carly, but Luke's giving me a ride home,” I say and Luke passes me the cherry-red helmet that's sort of become mine in the last few days.

“I'll take her spot,” Matt says to Carly and glares at Luke as I throw a leg over the bike.

Carly hides a little smile. God, she's so crushing on Matt again. Even when she knows there can't be a mutual thing going on. I should ask Luke to talk to Matt about not taking advantage. It's only been three days back in school and murmurs are already flying about the two of them walking and whispering together.

Carly glances at me. “Are you sure? I want to stop by to say hi to your mom, anyway. She's home today, right?”

Which is one of the reasons I don't want Carly dropping by. “Yeah, if everything went according to plan. But maybe you shouldn't stop by yet, Carly. Dad's worried about Mom's ‘fragile state.'” I use air quotes to make it seem overprotective. But truly I don't know how Mom's going to handle the Ashes now. And I so don't want to go into all that with Carly. One impending disaster at a time, please!

Carly laughs and eyes the gleaming beast under my thighs. “Her fragile state won't like you pulling up on that, either.”

“We'll park at my house and walk down,” Luke suggests and climbs on board. I wrap my arms around his warm, hard chest, enclosed in a thin, blue T-shirt and inhale his fresh all-Luke scent. He revs the engine and I wave to Carly as we take off. He passes by Taylin, who shakes her head. She has the remains of her “mother's” blueberry crumble she made everyone sample in drama. Madison is still giving her problems. She'd better concoct some kind of miraclediet nettle drink if she wants Madison to perform the night of the opera.

We park the motorcycle in his garage. He calls to his mom that he's walking me home and we head out into the sun. But he suddenly pulls me behind the tall evergreen next to the garage and kisses me. “I've wanted to do that all day,” he says and smiles. I laugh and kiss him back. It takes me only seconds to realize the hold he has on my upper arm is too tight.

I surface out of the kiss. “Ouch.” I look where his fingers are digging into my skin.

Luke jumps back. I cover my arm with my other hand. I have a zip-up jacket on over a strappy, sleeveless shirt.

“
Cac
!” Luke curses.

“It's okay, really,” I say. “Let's go.”

I try to catch Luke's fisted hand, but he slides up the sleeve of my jacket and gently turns my arm. Four fingertipsized red marks sit on my skin, ready to turn into bruises. I don't need to turn it over to know the thumb mark will be on the underside.

“God, Jule.” Two words, but filled with infinite emotion. Regret, anger, desperation, and even fear.

“It's okay, Luke.” I yank the jacket back down my arm and grab his hand. We walk out from behind the bush and start down the street. He doesn't say anything, but takes my backpack and swings it over his other shoulder. We look out toward my house, but I'm not really seeing anything. “Is it…getting harder?”

He exhales. “Yes…no…I don't know. Sometimes it's easy and then…I smell you or taste you or you laugh and I love you even more. Then it…leaks out of me, steers me. My hands…” He flexes his left hand in front of him. “It's like I can crush anything if I don't pay attention.”

I place my other hand on top of our clasped hands. “Okay, so I have to stop wearing deodorant and brushing my teeth. Got it.” He doesn't laugh. We walk on a ways before I glance up at my driveway. I stumble.

“Oh, God,” I whisper.

“Whose car is that?” Luke asks and jogs after me as I run up the street.

Patricia Ashe's car sits prominently in front of the walkway. I burst in through the front door. “Mom?!”

“In here, Julietta,” Mom calls from the kitchen. I run from the foyer into the living room and smack into…Eric Ashe. My stomach drops. His hands catch me by the upper arms. I flinch as he grips the same spot Luke bruised.

“Get your hands off her,” Luke says softly from behind me. I step back and into Luke's chest.

Eric raises one eyebrow and stares at Luke. “Sorry, Jule. Didn't mean to block your path.”

I dodge around Eric and into the kitchen. Patricia Ashe is pouring tea from Mom's blue china teapot where they sit at the kitchen table, the sun shining in. Dad's leaning against the entrance to the back hall, eating a big bite of chocolate cake.

“Mom?” I ask as I run up to her. She stands and wraps me in a hug. I cling to her fiercely while she laughs a little. Her voice is happy, like usual, like before… “Is everything okay?” I whisper near her ear.

She pulls back and smiles with a little nod. “Things are good. Patricia and I were just talking about my snooping problem.”

Snooping problem?!

Patricia laughs behind me. “Would you like some chocolate cake, Jule?” she asks and places a piece on the table next to my mom. “And your friend, here?”

Mom turns to Luke, who has made it past Eric and now stands in the kitchen doorway. I see Eric looming behind him in the living room, wearing a scowl so fierce it makes me shiver.

“Uh, this is Luke Whitmore.” Luke smiles and steps forward to shake Mom's hand. He meets Dad's gaze and nods. “His family moved here from Boston. His dad's the new assistant coach of the Carolina Blizzards.”

“Oh, yes,” Patricia says. “Your parents are wonderful. I sold them the house down the street.” She looks at me. “I didn't know you two were…dating?”

“Technically, we haven't been on a date yet,” Luke says.

“Wasn't that a date when I caught you two in the dark at the country club the night your Dad couldn't find you?” Eric's voice comes from behind me. “Or when he took you for a race on his motorcycle the other day? You had tattoos the other day.”
Shit! Stop talking!
Eric ignores my internal screaming. “Where are they now?”

Crap! Shit! Cac!
Whatever that means. Not only are the Ashes here, but now my fragile mom has to find out from my psycho-stalker that I've been riding motorcycles and hanging out with Luke in the dark.

Luke pulls up one of his sleeves to the shoulder and turns his arm. “I let my little brother draw some dragons on my arms that day,” Luke says casually. “They wash right off. I wouldn't get something like that for real on my arms.” He laughs. Luke turns back to my parents. I'm still too in shock to say anything. “We were having dinner with my parents at the country club the night Eric ran into us. I was just about to take Jule home so she wouldn't miss her curfew.”

Silence stuffs the room for a second. I guess silence is better than screaming. Mom catches the last bite of her chocolate cake on her fork. “It sounds like you've been having some adventures while I've been away, Julietta.” She looks at me and a sparkle in her eyes lets me breathe. She's trying very hard not to laugh.

“We'll talk about the motorcycle later,” Dad says, frowning over his fork.

“Have some chocolate cake.” Patricia insists. “It's my specialty.”

“No, thank you,” I manage to say. I feel Luke at my back. He doesn't touch me, per se, but his chest brushes against my hair. With him here I feel like I can handle anything. “Uh, what snooping problem?”

Mom lays her hand on mine and steers me to one of the chairs at the table. Patricia pushes a piece of cake and fork toward me. She mouths
just in case
. But my stomach is clenched so tight it's a wonder I'm not yarking, to use Matt's favorite verb.

“
Carissima
,” Mom says. “I don't know what I was so upset about. I think I must have been headed toward a breakdown, but when I came upon Patricia's scrapbooking closet in the den and saw all those pictures…” Mom shakes her head and laughs. “I just jumped to the most bizarre ideas.”

“I should have just told you about the heritage scrapbook I was doing for you,” Patricia says and pours herself some tea. “I just found all these amazing pictures of your ancestors when I joined that Scottish society, and I know you love looking into your family history. I thought it would make a fantastic Christmas gift.”

“Closet?”

“Richard cleared out the old storage closet in the den, under the stairs, so I could set up all my scrapbooking paraphernalia. Now I can leave it out and then just shut the door when I'm done working on it for the night.”

“I'm really so embarrassed,” Mom says and squeezes my hand. “To think I thought…”

“Don't worry about it, Isabella,” Patricia says. “I'm just glad I got a chance to explain. That place you were at wouldn't let me talk to you.” Patricia frowns over her teacup. “I mean, we're like sisters, even if it's not by blood.”

I stare numbly at the scene while Luke's hands rest lightly on my shoulders. Dad smiles, relief evident on his face. Was it all a mistake? Just like that? No psycho-stalker to worry about? Pictures of the Ashes back in the various frames around the house? Could life really just go back to normal? I stare at Patricia. Could she be in on this, whatever this is? I blink. No. She's been like a second mom all my life. God, I wonder again if paranoia is contagious.

I reach for the fork, but Luke beats me to it. “I just love cake,” he says and scoops up the plate. He sits down next to me and sets the plate on the edge of the table. It tips and falls to the floor with a ringing sound as the plate wobbles in a spiral on the linoleum. Mica runs for it, but Luke scoops the mess up in his hands.

“Shoot, I'm so sorry,” he says. “No chocolate for you, Mica.” He walks over to the trash.

“Nothing broke,” Mom says. “I'll cut you another piece. Patricia brought a whole cake.” She smiles at Carly's mom. “Trying to plump me up?”

“Max mentioned something about needing to keep you fed.”

Luke runs his hands under the faucet. “Actually, now that I think about it, my mom's making a big dinner tonight. I'd better not.”

Eric continues to watch the scene from the doorway into the living room. His gaze scans between Luke and me.

“Speaking of new friends,” I look directly at Eric, “Carly mentioned that Eric is seeing someone named Angie?”

Patricia's lips tighten on the edge of her teacup. Eric's gaze goes directly to his mom. “Um, Angie's just a lab partner in microbiology this semester. We text each other a lot.”

“Maybe we could double-date sometime,” Luke says with an amazing amount of sincerity.

“Angie and I don't date,” Eric reaffirms.

Luke shrugs and turns back to me. “I'd better go, Jule. I don't want to intrude on your first evening with your mom back home.”
God, he's good!
Polite society etiquette, which Patricia Ashe follows to the letter, dictates that she pack her creepy son up and go home, too, after that reminder.

“Yes,” she says and sighs, reaching for Mom's hand. “We'd better leave you three alone, too. We'll get together soon, though. And I'll bring the pictures I found.”

Mom waves her other hand. “Oh, I can wait until the album is finished, Patricia.”

“I'll be right back, Mom,” I say, and follow Luke out of the kitchen. Eric stands aside, but the look that passes between him and Luke is downright vicious, like two alpha dogs ready to battle. The stare is so sharp it slices off my breath as I walk between them.

“Bye again,” Luke calls back to my parents. “My parents would love to meet you soon.”

“That would be great,” Dad nods back.

Luke leads me out the front door onto the porch. I sit on the porch swing. Luke sits with his body between me and the door. He throws his arm across my shoulders on the back of the swing. It looks very casual, but I can feel the muscles in his arm and shoulder tensing.