Fighting Our Way Read online

  What the hell is wrong with me? She has me smiling like a goofball.

  I strip off my wetsuit pulling my dry board shorts on over my wet boxers and putting on a t-shirt. I don’t mind being wet still, as long as she’s comfortable.

  Five minutes later, she comes out looking red-faced, the wetsuit draped over her arm. “You could’ve told me this was like trying to escape a straightjacket.”

  I bark out a laugh. “Sorry, I forgot what it was like the first time I tried to get out of one. But hey, you survived.”

  “Barely,” she mutters, holding the offending object up. “What do I do with this now?”

  I take it from her and throw it in the back of the car with the other wet things. “I’ll take it home and wash it if you want? I’ll bring it to your place sometime next week.”

  She fidgets, clasping her hands in front of her. “I—” She hiccups again. “I don’t have.” Hiccup. “Anywhere to keep.” Hiccup. “It.”

  “Keep what?” I look at her, puzzled.

  “The suit.” She points at the car. “And the board.”

  “Don’t worry about that, you can keep everything at my place. I have a special space for all my gear.”

  “You have a—” Her chest rattles again. “Special space?”

  “Don’t make it sound so geeky, it’s just a room full of sports equipment.” I hesitate before spewing out, “Maybe I could show you sometime?”

  “I…” She pauses, causing me to skirt my gaze to her. “I’d like that,” she answers softly.

  Her admission makes me grin and I graze my palm along her soft cheek without even thinking about what I’m doing. When my skin connects with hers, she sucks in a breath as she flicks her gaze down to my lips and back up, leaning her body closer to mine so we’re almost touching.

  The tension in the air crackles as I move in closer to her, my hand curling around the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her damp hair.

  I breathe in deep. Up this close I can smell the salt water that has dried on her skin mixed in with her floral perfume. She smells like adventure and the outdoors and it only pulls me in more, until she hiccups again and it breaks the moment between us.

  She steps back, shaking her head slightly and my arm drops by my side, feeling the loss of her body as if I’m the ocean and she’s the sand—you can’t have one without the other. Looking left and then right, she wraps her arms around her waist and I frown at the change in her demeanor, wondering if I overstepped some unwritten line.

  She looks up at me and I clear my throat as I open the car door for her, trying to distract her as I tell her, “I know you don’t want Tris knowing about today so I can drop you off at the end of the driveway.”

  “Honestly, Nate, you don’t have to.”

  I place my hand on her waist, pushing her forward and waiting until she finally lifts herself into the seat. Shutting the door, I walk around to the driver’s side, giving her a small smile as I start the engine and reverse out of the parking spot before pulling onto the main road. When I turn my head to look at her quickly, she has a small smile on her face. The thought that it was me that put it there sends a fire lighting inside me.

  I want to make that smile appear every day.

  Pulling up to a stoplight, I turn to face her, taking note of her shoulders that are drawn down and the way she’s moved closer to the passenger door—a complete contradiction to the smile that was just gracing her face a few minutes ago. Her head is turned but I can see her reflection in the side mirror. Her blank gaze doesn’t seem to be staring at anything in particular as her hand runs up and down her forearm in an unconscious gesture.

  I lift my hand off the steering wheel thinking to entwine our fingers together, but I stutter in my movement. I want nothing more than for her to tell me everything she’s thinking, to show me what she’s feeling by looking into my eyes, but I know I won’t get anything out of her now she seems to have gone inside her own head.

  Did I do something wrong?

  The light turning green makes the choice for me and I blow out a breath, placing my hand back on the wheel and putting my foot down on the gas pedal.

  The large houses start to come into view, each of them getting progressively bigger as I drive closer to Tris’s house, eventually coming to a stop at the end of the long driveway. It’s the first time I’ve come here and not driven right up to the house and let myself in like it’s my second home.

  She doesn't move for several seconds, not until I clear my throat. “Home sweet home.”

  “What—” She cuts herself off as her head whips around, seeing where we are. “Oh.” Leaning down, she picks up her bag off the floor, her hand reaching for the handle before she finally looks at me again. “Thanks for today.” She pushes the door open, getting out and starting to close the door. Before it fully closes she grins, her eyes flashing with the same light that was there when she was learning how to surf. “By the way, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you buying this stuff. I’ll pay you back.”

  She shuts her door and walks around the front of the car, giving me time to roll down my window. “Hey!” She turns around, her almost dry hair blowing gently in the breeze. “What stuff?” I wink and drive off without giving her time to answer, but I look back in my rearview mirror, my heart beating loudly in my chest at the smile on her face as she watches me drive away.

  I place my coffee cup in the dishwasher before picking up my cell. I received more information about Pete for Tris yesterday, but I don’t want to lure him into a meeting for that because I know he’ll ignore me and send Catiya or someone else in his place. So like the intelligent guy I am, I use my best tactic to get him to agree to meet me: annoyance.

  We haven’t seen each other since the cookout, and again, he isn’t answering any of the messages I’ve sent him. He’s still pissed I didn’t tell him about Harmony being back in town, but now he knows, I’m starting to think Charlotte may have been onto something about her being the start of his healing.

  Amelia told me he’s letting the kids go back to the art studio and even went there himself, and it sparked an idea stemming from Charlotte’s.

  I type out a message on my cell and send it to Tris.

  NATE: Lunch date? ;)

  I then open Facebook and find Harmony’s profile, clicking on messenger and asking her to lunch as well but not telling her a place or time just yet. I need Tris to agree first.

  Opening my messages back up, I know he’s seen it but hasn’t replied, so I type out another.

  NATE: I know you’ve seen my message. I’ll message you once a minute until you answer.

  I flip through the newspaper before sending another with a random fact I pull off one of the pages.

  NATE: Did you know that Oklahoma declared watermelon a vegetable and that they’ve made it their official state vegetable?

  I smirk as I look down at my watch, waiting for a minute to be over so I can press send on my next fun fact of the day.

  NATE: Did you know that having no friends could be as deadly as smoking? That’s what Harvard University said. Apparently there's a link between loneliness and the levels of a blood-clotting protein which can cause heart attacks and strokes.

  This time I actually chuckle to myself as I grab my keys to my car so I can drive into the city. I can see him now going out of his mind with my messages because they’re annoying him so much, so I’m shocked when I receive a reply telling me to meet him at Zanders at twelve thirty. I was expecting to have to work a little more to get him to meet me, but I’m not taking his reply as gospel and having him stand me up. I’ll go to his office and walk him there myself.

  I get in my car and a message pops up from Harmony.

  HARMONY: Sure. I’ll be in the city around twelve. Where?

  NATE: Twelve thirty at Zanders? It’s a favorite of mine.

  HARMONY: Great. See you then.

  With a sliver of guilt, I pocket my cell and drive into the city. I’ll have to move
some appointments around today to fit this in, but it’ll be worth it.

  Tris may actually hate me after today, then again, who’s to say he won’t be thanking me depending on what happens?

  The sound of my cell ringing pierces the air, rousing me from my sleep. My heavy lids blink rapidly, trying in vain to wake myself up. I blindly reach for my cell, knowing my dad won’t be happy if it wakes him.

  The ringtone dies off as I sit up, my fingers wrapping around the case of my cell. First morning light is shining through a gap of my curtains and when I look down at my cell, I see it’s five a.m.

  Who the hell calls someone at five in the morning?

  I shake my head, yawning and leaning back into my mountain of pillows before the ringing starts again.

  I lift it up to my ear, answering it without seeing who’s calling.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m going to make you pay,” the distorted voice threatens down the line.

  “Wha—”

  “You did this, you’ve destroyed everything!” My breathing picks up, my palms starting to sweat as my gaze bats around my room.

  The click of the call disconnecting sounds and I look down at my cell to see they’ve hung up.

  A droplet of sweat runs down the center of my back as I wrap my trembling arms around my waist, trying to make myself as small as possible as I walk around the edge of the property.

  Remembering the recurring dream I’ve been having sends me on high alert—even more so than I already am. I haven’t dreamed about that time since I came to live here, but I know what is bringing it all back—the packages are causing the memories to come to the forefront of my mind.

  How did it get to this? What do they want?

  Every small noise has my pulse skyrocketing and my shoulders drawing higher up to my ears. Chanting in my head it’s nothing, I continue checking for any signs that someone was here. My head whips back and forth as I come around the side of the garage, stopping in front of the fountain.

  I’ve done this several times a day over the last five days—since I received the first empty package.

  When I opened it, I prepared myself for another item like the first two, but I didn’t expect it to be empty. I knew it was from the same person as the first two from the writing on the top and the “fragile” sticker on the side. I didn’t understand why… why was it empty? What was their angle?

  That was the first day I started to feel like someone was watching me. It’s a figment of my imagination—at least that’s what I keep telling myself, but your gut doesn’t lie and the tingles flowing through me telling me there’s someone out there.

  The second package came the day after, and then a third and fourth over the following two days. Each one has been empty, not a single thing inside the box apart from black tissue paper.

  It’s a game—a sick kind of game where I’m waiting for something to happen, for someone to strike out.

  Shaking my head, I push forward, opening the front door and walking into the main house. My mind is full of all kinds of theories as to what they’re trying to achieve, what they’re trying to tell me. But ultimately, they’re trying to have me running scared.

  I may be frightened, but I won’t run—I’m not the same person as I was back then.

  “Amelia?”

  I startle, my eyes widening as I feel the color drain from my face. I look at Tris and then Clay and Izzie before my gaze runs over the box by the back door.

  Not again.

  Shuffling my feet on the floor, I stammer, “He-ey.”

  Tristan pushes up from where he’s leaning against the counter and steps toward me, his eyes flashing with concern. He can’t know. He can’t ever know. “Are you okay?”

  His gaze flits between my eyes. The longer he stares the more he seems to be worried. I need to distract him, to make him believe everything is okay and I’m not feeling like I’m losing my breath the longer the package sits in this room with all of them.

  “Yeah.” I cringe at the loudness of my voice. Pretending like it didn’t happen, I turn to face Clay and Izzie. “You two have a good day at school. When you get back we’ll make cookies.” I force a smile on my face.

  “With chocolate chips?” Izzie asks, bouncing up and down in her seat.

  “You bet!” I wink before walking through the kitchen and grabbing the package. My heartbeat booms in my ears as I try to get out of here as fast as I can without causing any alarm.

  I manage to get to the pool house, the box firmly clutched in my hands before the door opens and Tristan’s booming voice says, “Amelia.” It’s the same tone he uses with Clay and Izzie when they’re in trouble.

  “Tristan,” I whisper, my knuckles turning white from the iron-clad grip I’m holding the box in.

  “What’s going on?” he asks, taking a step farther into the room and letting the door bang shut behind him. “You know you can tell me anything.”

  My gaze flies around the room, not stopping on anything in particular as I try not to look into his gray eyes I swear will be able to see right through me. I’ve been on edge since the first package, but once the empty ones started to be delivered, I’ve been worse.

  He’s not going to go away and let this drop, so I finally say, “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Bullshit,” he spits out as he takes another two steps toward me. He’s quicker than I’m expecting, his hands gripping the edge of the box before I know it. “What’s in here?”

  I gasp and hold it tighter as he pulls on it. No. “Stop. It’s... nothing.”

  He raises his brows at me and bends slightly so his eyes are level with mine. They flash, telling me he’s here, that I can trust him. But it doesn’t matter because I’ll never tell him. It’s too dangerous.

  “I—” I look out of the windows, gazing out at the backyard and the main house. “Honestly, Tris.” I take a breath, willing my body to act normal. “It really is nothing. I… I didn’t get much sleep so I’m feeling out of it.”

  His eyes burn into me. “A,” he pleads.

  I catch sight of Izzie as she opens the back door and shouts, “Daddy! Eddie is here!”

  Taking his distraction, I yank on the box, running into the kitchen and away from him. Hiding in the corner, I pray he leaves and doesn’t demand I open the box in front of him. Oh God, how would I explain it?

  I jump out of my skin as he shouts, “This isn’t over!” before the door closes behind him.

  Staying where I am, I watch the minutes on the clock tick down, listening intently as tires sound on the driveway, leaving me on my own.

  Pulling a knife out of the block, I slowly move over to the sofa and place the box on the coffee table. I have a feeling it’s the same as the other four I received this week, purely because it’s so light.

  Taking a deep breath, I run the knife along the tape, pulling it open and looking inside. Yanking the black tissue paper out I find it empty again. I don’t know what’s worse: having an empty package, or one with a surprise inside. They’re coming more often now, and I can’t help but wonder if this is the lead up to something big or just one giant game.

  Goose bumps trail over my skin, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. My head whips around, looking out of the glass door.

  Is there someone out there?

  My gaze flicks back and forth, over the pool, all the shrubbery linings the edge of the backyard, and over to the back gate that sits unlocked and is wafting forward and backward in the wind.

  Jumping up, I nearly fall over my own two feet trying to get outside as fast as I can. My chest heaves as I dart for the gate, slamming it closed and locking the padlock. Taking a step back, I stare at it, my stomach rolling as I run my hand over my forehead.

  Running back over to the pool house, I shove the box next to the trash can and lock the door before heading into the main house.

  I’ve never locked the door but right now I feel far from safe and at least while I’m in the main house
, I’ll know nothing can get me here.

  I go around to every single door and window, locking the ones that aren’t locked and double-checking the ones that are.

  I’m being paranoid. No, I’m being cautious; safe; aware of my surroundings.

  Clenching my hands into fists, I close my eyes and count to ten, feeling much calmer once I’ve done it and opened them back up again. Flexing my fingers, I pull my shoulders back and put the whole morning—the whole week—to the back of my mind.

  I walk the few blocks to his company building, staring up at the expansive height of it. His father may have started the company, but Tris has pulled it out of ruin and made waves throughout the software world. He’s the best at what he does, but that also comes with a price. He works more than I do and that’s saying something.

  Once inside the busy lobby, I pull out my cell and send him a message asking where he is to which I get an instant reply.

  TRIS: I’m on my way now. Chill the fuck out.

  Nice.

  I slip my cell and my hands back into my pockets as I lean against the wall opposite the elevators. The doors pop open and I raise my arms in the air as I shout a sarcastic, “Finally!”

  His eyes shift around the lobby at the attention I’m garnering and he scowls at me. “Not all of us can come and go as we like, you know. Some of us have companies to run.”

  “Oh!” I bow in front of him. He knows full well I run my own law firm, but I can be a little more flexible than he can—or wants to be. “I bow down to you, Sir Tristan.”

  He rolls his eyes and I don’t miss the flinch because of the black eye he’s sporting.

  “What happened to your face, anyway?” I ask as we walk out the front doors of the building.

  He tries to cover it up with a shrug. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He looks away from me. “I thought we were meeting at the restaurant?”