December (The Page Sisters Book 1) (7 page)

T
HE
P
RESENT

“Damn you,” I mutter to myself as I kick one of the front chained tires of my matte black Chevy Camaro. Danny chained Thunderbird. She’s my baby, and he’s chained her. I guess I should be thankful because we do have a lot of snow and he’s only thinking about my safety. But he could have at least asked me. Not every woman needs a man coming to her rescue. I can handle myself just fine.

Whatever.

Turning up the CD July gave me of her EP, I listen to her haunted voice with tortured lyrics while I drive to meet Josh at a local cinema. We’re having a movie and dinner night. It’ll be good to catch up and spend some time with Josh.

The arctic air smacks me in the face when I step out of my heated car. The parking lot is mostly empty, the brilliant red neon glow of the AMC letters partly lighting the lot. I can clearly spot Josh’s silver Chevy truck a few spaces away. A fierce prickle races across my skin as I take a few steps. It’s the same warning prickle I’ve been feeling for the past few months. I’ve been having this eerie sense there’s someone following me.

I halt suddenly and glance over my shoulder. There’s no one there except a neat row of trees. Shaking it off, I walk through the doors. A genuine smile spreads across my face when I see Josh dressed in his black leather jacket with dark jeans and boots. He’s bending over the glass case of the concession stand, choosing candy.

Sneaking up behind him, I dig my hands under his coat and shirt, placing my icy fingers on the warm skin of his back.

He tenses and shivers, pulling both of my hands from under his clothes as he turns to face me.

“Christ, your fingers are freezing. Why do you always do that?” he asks, warming my hands in his.

“Because you warm my hands in yours after. It’s sweet, and I like it.”

He smiles a little, his blue eyes lighting with something fond. “Only you, December. I was just getting us some snacks. You want the usual?”

“Oh, yeah. I want one of those big soft cinnamon pretzels too.”

“I gotcha.”

Two female friends are in the line next to us and one of the girls can’t keep her eyes off Josh. (She’s a beautiful red-haired woman that’s as flawless as my eye can tell. Really. I can’t say anything bad about the girl.) Her hazel eyes slowly trail up and down the length of him, but not in a whorish I’m-going-to-eat-you-alive way. She’s admiring him.

“Looks like you have an admirer,” I whisper to him, jabbing his arm.

“Really?” He looks around wildly. “Where?”

“The redhead to your left.”

He glances at her and she stiffens, then smiles nervously and looks away. He pulls me in close and kisses the top of my head and laughs in my hair.

“I don’t think so, December. Grab some napkins for us.”

Frowning, I yank some napkins from the dispenser. “Why not? She’s hot.”

“I’m not in the right mind frame to be with anyone else besides you right now,” he says, gathering the boxes of candy in one hand, the pretzel in the other. “Are you ready to see this Batman movie?”

“How many times are they going to remake it?”

“Who knows? And who cares? Batman is awesome.”

“Agreed.”

We snuggle up close in our seats, sharing Milk Duds and Skittles. I refuse to share my pretzel, but that doesn’t keep him from leaning over and taking huge bites out of it. I give him an incredulous glare. It goes unseen because Josh’s gaze is fixed on the screen. My bladder is near bursting, but I refuse to get up and miss anything. Batman is awesome.

Once the movie is over Josh and I linger to play around in the arcade. We slip dollars into the possessed coin machine. The old machine sucks up the bills, then rattles and spews out a shower of golden tokens everywhere. We collect the coins from the floor, placing them in our handy plastic cups. This arcade is our adult version of Chuck E. Cheese. We come here often enough to have our names inscribed on our cups. We head to the toy claw machine first.

“What kind of animal do you want?”

“I want that tiger in the corner,” I say, pressing my finger hard against the glass. “It reminds me of Sunflower.”

“Let me see if I can get it on the first try.” His blue eyes become deathly focused on the challenge as he controls the stick. His deep concentration allows me to take in his beauty. I don’t do it often because I rather not acknowledge how freakishly beautiful he is. It puts me in an awkward position.

Josh is the classic American boy handsome. We all know the type: The blond hair that’s perfectly tussled, the clear blue eyes purer than the Mediterranean Sea, the hard jaw with the high cheek bones and chiseled body to match. It sounds generic. But he looks like a fucking Calvin Klein model.

It’s different for Josh. Josh takes the all American boy handsomeness to another level, to a more brooding and darker level, which adds to his appeal. He’s like the boy next door, if the boy next door was melancholy and you wanted to know all his soul-shattering secrets that kept him so sad.

Josh is the classic handsome prince that went beautifully wrong. I think I’m drawn to him the same reason Danny is drawn to Piper. We all share the same connection with not being wanted. Piper’s and Josh’s mom abandoned them at a bus stop. Piper was ten and Josh was eight. He told me she told them they were getting a surprise and to close their eyes and count to fifteen and once they opened their eyes they would receive a gift. Josh said their mother kissed both of their eyelids but when their eyes opened, their mother was nowhere in sight.

“Look,” Josh says, waving the stuffed tiger in my face. “Told you I would get it on the first try.”

He hands it to me and I hold it tightly to my chest. “Thank you.”

He stares at me for a moment, his head cocking to the side. “Where do you go?”

“What do you mean?”

Josh gently touches my cheek and then taps his index finger against my bottom lip. “When you space out.”

“I was thinking about you.”

“Really?” he says unconvinced, placing my face between both of his hands.

“Yeah.”

He looks deep into my eyes and I can feel myself already drowning. “Was it good or bad?”

“Good. I was thinking about how good you look and why you hide the fact that you’re sad a lot.”

His brows push together and he frowns. It’s a pity that beautiful Josh looks even prettier when he frowns, brighter when he smiles. “I’m not sad a lot.”

“You are.”

He steps forward, skimming his soft lips across my temple and I lose my breath. He begins to whisper into my ear. “Why do you like to dig so much? You might not like what you find.”

My heart stutters and sinks into my stomach at the same time. “I like everything I find.”

One of his hands softly clutches the back of my neck. His other hand presses on the small of my back and brings me into him. “You know I’m in love with you, December.”

I swallow the huge lump in my throat, my burning eyes widening. He says it so effortlessly, as if the words are always on the tip of his tongue, eager and so very willing to make the leap to my ears.

But I know voicing the words “I love you” is anything but easy when it comes to Josh. He says them because he means them. He doesn’t say the sugary sweet L-word as some kind of ploy to get him laid, or out of obligation, or whatever lame reasons men tell women they love them when they don’t.

“Why do you do this to yourself, Josh? Is it because you think you deserve a girl like me, a girl that can never love you completely? Because you don’t. You deserve someone better, someone who will love you until you’re full.”

He embraces me in his arms, and I have to tip my head back to look at him. “And you don’t think that’s you?”

“I can’t love you like that.”

He holds me to him and we begin to sway to the mellow coffeehouse music playing through the speakers. “Why?”

I’m not embarrassed when people watch us with happy and curious eyes as we dance in the lobby of the theater. Only Josh can get away with doing something so stupid it’s romantic. “Because I’m fucked if that happens. I think you chase me as hard as you do because I keep denying you. My rejection is not an incentive. I love you. So much, Josh. Just not in the—”

“The way you want,” he says, cutting me off to finish my sentence. “But you could, though.”

“The sad boy loves a sad girl, who ate her own heart because she’s too terrified to give it away to anyone.”

He gives me a mournful smile. “The sad boy gouges his heart out and offers it to his beloved sad girl so she wouldn’t be the only one with a hole in her chest.”

Closing my eyes, I press my face into his warm chest, breathing in the scent of fresh laundry. Josh always smells clean. “God, our love stories are dark.”

“I disagree. You’re just afraid to let yourself feel anything that’s outside of your comfort zone when it comes to me. I hope I’m not sounding too desperate, but you can give me what I need.”

We stop swaying to the music. His arms close tight around me and his gaze turns starry-eyed. Josh looks into my eyes, translating unspoken words that don’t need to be voiced. Then his gaze drops down to my lips. He slants his head. I close my eyes. I know what comes next…and I don’t stop it or move away.

His lips gently press to mine. When his soft lips touches mine, an explosion of pleasant warmth sets off low in my belly, sparking emotions I wish I could conceal better. Josh’s lips against mine are whisper-soft, as light as feather, as faint as his breath. His mouth tastes sweet and fruity. His lips taste of Skittles. He kisses me too tenderly, too delicately, like I might break. My chest is tight and my knees are weak. I think I want to cry.

His lips leave mine, curving up the side of my jaw to whisper into my ear, “I’ll be different. I think I’ll be different. I hope I’m not different. Just love me, December.”

My heart cracks and then shatters into too many sharp pieces to touch. “I do, Josh.”

He cups my face, his thumbs smearing wetness across the skin of my cheeks. “December.”

Opening my eyes, I look up at him and release the pent-up breath that only causes more tears. “I’m sorry.”

Josh smiles somberly, his coral blue-colored eyes gleaming. “Don’t be. Let me walk you to your car.”

We hold hands and leave out the cinema doors together. We’re silent the entire short trip across the snowy parking lot. I pull my keys from my coat pocket, unlocking my door.  I watch Josh run his hands through his blond tresses and sigh as his shoulders slump. He looks defeated somehow.

“December?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry, and I definitely didn’t mean to force myself on you—”

“Stop,” I say, interrupting him. “You didn’t force yourself on me, Josh. You’ve done nothing wrong. But I think we both know where this is headed.”

He graces me with a bright smile and something dark flares in his eyes. “Haven’t you heard? You’re my favorite mistake that I’m happy to make.”

“Know that if you choose to stay, to keep this up between us, there might not be an escape. It’s safer to keep things where they are.”

Josh moves closer, his eyelids lowered to my mouth. “It’s good I don’t like safe very much. Broken hearts are made for two, right? One for me and one for you.”

“I hope you make it out alive,” I whisper sinisterly against his lips.

He doesn’t answer. Instead he steps forward until he backs me against my chilly car door. His hands settle securely on my hips, his fingers digging into my skin. His sweet tasting mouth seals over mine. He parts my lips with his tongue and I groan into his mouth. Something feral takes over me and the kiss turns brutal and desperate. My fingers knot his soft hair. I tug hard, holding him to me and he hisses. I kiss and bite at his lips, wanting to love and punish him for loving me. Josh kisses and bites back. By the time we break apart we’re both gasping, our lips red and swollen.

He rests his forehead on mine, gazing intently into my eyes. “I’m thinking we should take a rain check on dinner.”

“Yeah. I’m not in the mood for food.”

He grins. “Call me when you get home.”

“Okay.”

He opens my door for me. My head swims when I lower myself into the driver’s seat. He shuts the door and waves, turning his back to me and making his way to his truck. I lightly bang my forehead against the steering wheel, releasing a muffled scream.

What the fuck am I doing?

T
HE
P
AST

Danny age twenty-four

December age fifteen

Sleepovers sucks. Or maybe Jessica’s sleepovers just suck. Her parents are gone and her older sister is supposed to supervise us. But she left with her boyfriend an hour ago. They went to the ‘movies’ which I don’t buy for one second. I believe Jessica and her sister had this entire thing perfectly planned. Penny, Jessica’s older sister, gets to keep her secret boyfriend, who rides a Harley, secret if she gives Jessica the house for the rest of the night.

So now I’m stuck with a bunch of uppity girls that truly don’t like me and Jessica is the queen bitch of them all. We’re all in our pajamas and no one is looking at the horror flick on the screen. I want to scream but not from the bloody gore from the movie. I want to scream because I could have been spending my Friday night with Danny.

“The boys are coming,” Rachel shrills, nearly knocking over the bowl of popcorn off her lap as she jumps up from the couch to unlock and pry open the door.

Jessica unties her silk peach-colored robe, smoothing her hands down her matching nightie. The thin gown stops four inches above her thighs, exposing her long legs. Her legs are tanned and very shapely. She catches me looking and smirks. I force myself to look away. Jessica has a nice figure. She has breasts and hips. She has everything I lack. I despise her for it and I’m secretly fascinated with her because of it.

My eyelids lower down to my Spiderman onesie and leather boots Danny got me. I’m not wearing anything sexy like the rest of the girls are. I’m starting feel like I’ve only been invited as an inside joke. I don’t fit in with these girls. They are all pretty and feminine, with pricy silks flowing down their soft curves. I shouldn’t be here, but I thought I’d be polite and come.

A bunch of rowdy guys come through the door with cases of beer and bottles of alcohol. They hoot and holler, letting their male pride be announced and acknowledged. Most of them are football players. Older football players.

Josh is the last one to squeeze through the door. He has his hands stuffed in his jean pockets. His entire face is flushed red as a tomato as he takes in the room full of half dressed girls. Josh quickly directs his gaze to the floor.

He’s different from the rest of the nauseously obvious testosterone that surrounds us. His hair is longer. His blonde waves hang to his shoulders, neither styled nor unkempt. His hair looks clean like he washed it and let it dry naturally. His body is slimmer than all the guys, but he’s taller. And I can’t help but notice how intolerantly beautiful he is.

Josh still looks like a blonde-haired angel. He looks just as out of place as I am.

I’m instantly gravitating towards him. I’m honestly a little obsessed with his beauty and bashfulness.

Standing, I grab his arm and bring him over to the end of the couch with me. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe,” I whisper in a conspiring tone.

“Who are you keeping me safe from?” he asks just as quietly.

“From all the naked and man-eating predators. If they pounce, I will punch.”

He snorts, laughing. “Thanks for saving me and all. In return, I’ll save you from overzealous assholes.” His blue eyes flicker with interest and humor.

My pulse spikes.

He is the first and last boy I can classify as pretty. Josh is unbearably beautiful. “No one touches you. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’m glad you came then,” I say, clasping his hand in mine. Josh and I don’t hang out much. I spend all of my free time with Danny, and Josh, well, I don’t know much of what Josh does.

“All right, people. It’s bottoms up time,” Jessica declares. She helps herself to some vodka. Then a guy with greasy hair hands everyone a cup, including Josh and me.

Josh and I clutch our plastic red cups in our free hands. We both stare at the alcoholic fruit punch, unsure of following our peers.

“Let’s make this a fucking party,” Riley shouts before he chugs from an open bottle. He’s the running back and the star of our high school and an incredibly stupid, cocky boy that is equally corrupted as Jessica.

He is Jessica’s boyfriend.

“You don’t have to drink,” Josh whispers in my ear, his eyes kind and smile bright.

My gaze lifts up to Jessica across the room. She’s staring at me, her eyes narrowed and shrewd. “You don’t have to drink, December. It’s alright. You can sit this one out.” She smiles at me despite her cold eyes. Riley comes to her, his hand blatantly on her ass and he gives it a tight squeeze.

He whispers something in her ear, causing her to laugh and wiggle against him. 

Riley glances at me knowingly, a small smile curving his lips before sucking on Jessica’s neck.

She moans, tossing her head back and allowing him more access.

He takes it. His hand slides up one of her thighs and I suddenly look away, panting a little.

I look into serene blue eyes that show concern. 

“Are you okay?”

“I will be,” I say, downing the entire cup. 

My face instantly falls as it scorches my throat, warming my chest like blooming fireball. Alcohol is gross, even laced with sweet juice. How the hell do people become addicted to this stuff? And it fucking burns. Oh, the blistering agony. My tongue burns. My mouth burns. My body burns. No one told me alcohol burns just as much as rubbing alcohol over an open wound.

“My lips are on fire,” I groan, leaning into Josh.

He throws an arm around me and tilts his head to look into my eyes. “You haven’t had alcohol before, have you?”

“No.”

He makes a muttered sound under his breath, then takes the empty cup from my hand and sets both of our cups on the glass coffee table.

“Stay here. I’m going to get you some ice and a bottle of water.”

He seems reluctant to leave me. I give Josh a smile that I hope is convincing enough.

“Go. I’m okay.”

Josh nods, then gradually disappears from my sight. Jessica and Riley break apart at the same time. She goes after Josh and Riley has his dark eyes aimed at me. He comes to me like a plague I want to avoid.

His eyes are a deep shade of brown, so dark they appear to be the color of coal.

His eyes seem utterly black now. Riley has the unblinking gaze of a shark.

He smiles at me and I suddenly feel like prey, caught in the deadly claw of a bear trap. “You are shivering. Are you cold?” Riley asks.

His voice is polite but his smile isn’t.

“I don’t know,” I mumble, avoiding his gaze that threatens to devour me.

“Would you like me to help you decide?”

“I don’t know,” I repeat, my gaze fixed on our red cups on the table.

Riley leans in closer to me on the couch, the heat of his body soaking into mine. One of his hands settles on my shoulder and I flinch. He laughs but doesn’t remove his grip on me. “You are so jumpy. Why is that, December?”

“I don’t like when people touch me.”

“That can’t be true,” he purrs in my ear. “I saw Josh touch you. You seemed alright to me.”

I shiver and lean away. My body is tingling and heating up.

I don’t like it.

Why is my heart racing like I’ve been running for hours?

Why do I feel like I can’t concentrate on much?

The room begins to fall away one wall at a time along with all the people in it. It’s just Riley and I, predator and prey sharing one end of a couch.

“Josh can touch you and I can’t?”

I blink once, then blink again. Nothing changes. “That’s because Josh can touch me. I like it when he touches me. He’s nice.”

His hand glides down my back, rubbing languid circles until the tension leaks out of me. “I can be nice too. How are you feeling?”

“Warm and weird.” I shrug, unable to think clearly to phrase my words. “I don’t know.”

His thumb slides across the sensitive skin of my neck and I violently shudder. “Come with me. You should lie down and nap it off. You’ll feel better. I promise.”

I shrug again and he loops his arm through mine. He has to stop and pick me up because I keep fumbling in his wake.

My eyelids can barely open when he carries me somewhere. I think I’m in the garage, my back pressed against the cold hood of a car.

Riley stands in front of me like a God with no hint of mercy in his black eyes. He’s still smiling. “Are you cold now?”

Nodding, I shut my eyes. It is colder in here. It is freezing. The smell of icy snow is wafting from outside.

“I can be very nice and warm you up. Would you like that?”

I nod again, adrift somewhere in the warped world of Wonderland.

He cups my breasts, squeezing lightly. The heat of his probing palms scorches me.

I make a sound.

But it doesn’t sound like me. It sounds like an animal in heat, desperate and in need.

“No one has touched you here, have they, December?”

Nonsense comes out of my mouth. It makes him laugh. It’s a genuine happy laugh. He rubs his nose to mine, his breath warm on my lips.

“Jessica’s jealous of you. It’s because you’re what she wishes she was. You’re quiet but mouthy when you need to be heard. You’re pretty from a distance, but you’re gorgeous up close and personal. And you’re a virgin, aren’t you, sweet December?”

His smile broadens at my wordless reply. His hand trails down my onesie. Riley holds my gaze when he cups me between my legs. He moves his palm slowly back and forth, relishing in doing this to me.

Something happens.

The muscles tighten in my belly and sparks of eclectic heat pulsate through me.

“Fuck. I can feel how hot your little snatch is. I’ve never been with a virgin before. Jessica wasn’t even a virgin the first time we fucked. But you are.” He stares down at me. His eyes are nothing but black voids of space. “I can make this good for you, December. Really good.”

I’m horrified now and terror as cold as ice water ripples through me, settling low in my stomach. Nausea makes it hard to breathe.

I want him off me.

This is wrong.

My limbs are lethargic and heavy. I can’t push him off, but I can turn my head.

“No-o-o.”

“What was that?” he asks through a grin. “I can’t hear you.”

“Please,” I mumble, turning to look at him, something wet slides down both of my cheeks.

My tongue is dry and limp in my mouth. It’s not working right.

“You’re so pretty when you cry.” He kisses my lips, the taste of vodka and peppermint on them. My chest cracks open and I drown in my tears because my struggles are useless. Riley is going to do whatever he wants to do to me and there is nothing I can do about it. 

“Let her go,” someone growls.

Riley drops his hands from me and slowly steps away. “No harm done, my man.”

Cool pools of blue meet my eyes. Why are they burning? I’ve never seen water catch fire before.

“December, are you hurt?”

I shake my head and blink, silently thanking the heavens.

“God, no. Please no,” the angel whispers as he helps me into my onesie. He zips it back up. The angel’s hands are trembling.

When did Riley pull off half my onesie?

The angel lowers me down to the chilly cement ground where I sit and then he punches Riley. The angel has the force of God in his punch because Riley plummets down to the floor.

The angel mounts Riley’s chest and strikes him over and over again, each hit harder than the last.

Something cracks with a sickening wet thud. I close my eyes. My head feels funny. I’m weak and sleepy. But I have to keep my eyes open. The angel needs me to keep my eyes open.

So I open them.

And when I do, I’m surrounded by golden light and flickering candles. They smell of vanilla and warmth. Two sets of water blue eyes shift to me.

Laughing, I sink into the soft cushions of a velvet couch.

Why are these angels so worried?

They’re in heaven, and nothing can hurt them in heaven.

The older angel has a phone pressed to her ear. “Danny, I think something’s wrong with December.”