The Beginning of Always (10 page)

I gently tugged my fingers away, but Alistair didn’t let go. Instead, he gently ran his thumb over the backs of my fingers on my left hand. He lingered over my ring finger and his grip tightened slightly.

He leaned in closer, and all signs of mirth and the professional veneer of politeness evaporated. He asked me in a low voice, almost a growl, “Not married?”

My expression shuttered and I curled my fingers inwards from his grasp and yanked them away again, this time harder and with more force.

Alistair let go.

I took a step back and nervously ran my hand through my hair before answering.

“No.”

“Dating, then?” He straightened up to his full height and I had to crane my head up to speak to him.

“Just got back.” I tucked my hands behind me. “Too busy.”

Alistair gave me a rare smile, one of those complete smiles that dug deep dimples in his cheeks, a smile that spread across his entire expression. Slight wrinkles feathered out from the sides of his eyes and my stomach twisted at the sight.

“It seems busy is the name of the game. I’ll see you on Monday, Ms. Reynolds.”

Alistair turned to leave and I watched his back as he cut between the tables, patting a couple guests on the shoulders along his way. When he moved beyond the crowds, Gertrude materialized out of nowhere to greet him at the opposite wall. Her lips moved rapidly and Alistair nodded several times. Then he went right and disappeared down a hallway.

And despite his boss making his exit, Mr. Villa didn’t follow. Instead, he stared at me as if I had four heads.

I shook my single head and smoothed my clammy palms on my dress. I sucked in several deep breaths and then glanced up to my audience. “Alright!” I said in a peppy voice that belied my internal tornado of emotions. “It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Villa. I look forward to working with you.”

He considered me from his height advantage.

I returned him a shaky smile.

“Call me Train. Boss is the only guy who insists on this Mr. Villa crap. But what can I say, it’s what Boss wants, so, ya, Boss gets.”

“Okay. Train it is,” I said with a small laugh.

I stretched out my hand and Train’s palm swallowed it. We shared two or three pumps and let go. But he still didn’t leave. His dark eyes combed over me in a strangely knowing way, with more perception than I was comfortable with.

I shifted on my feet.

“You know, he gets a lot of grief, but Mr. Blair is a solid guy,” Train offered.

“Oh, yeah?” I said casually.

“Just don’t let the excess noise throw you off the real story.”

“And what’s that?”

“Boss takes care of everyone. I mean, everyone. Except one guy: himself. That’s the real story here.” Train fisted his two palms and knocked them together with a grim nod. “Sacrifice.”

Chapter 6

“A
listair.”

A whisper and a tapping noise.

“Mrrgghhhh.” I slammed my palm against my bedside table to turn off my alarm.

The tapping continued.

“Alistair.” The voice got louder.

My fingertips scampered haphazardly over slippery wood, trying to locate the snooze button on my alarm clock.

“Psst. Wake up. Aaaaaaal-is-teeeerrrrr.”

“Noooo.” I moaned into my pillow. “Two more minutes,” I muttered.

“
Hey!
”

“
What?
” I popped up out of bed and threw my blankets to the side to glare at the source of the noise.

A mess of brown hair and grinning white teeth peered down at me. Florence Reynolds was hanging upside down off the tree outside my second-story window and tapping on the glass. She stuck her tongue out, and then she swung forward and pulled the window open.

I cocked an eyebrow as she flipped over and slipped in. A leaf was caught in her hair.

“Are you aware of what time it is?”

“Yah huh,” she answered dismissively as she pulled in a small canvas knapsack to follow. “It’s two oh nine in the morning.”

“You know normal people are sleeping at this hour, right?”

“Normal people are missing out!”

“On what? Axe murderers?”

A tinkling giggle emanated to fill the room, and the sound scrubbed my brain clean for several seconds. A clattering noise followed Florence as she thumped her bag on the floor.

“You have stuff in your hair,” I pointed out.

Florence stood up and shook her hair like a dog. Three leaves floated out. Florence tilted her head as she combed her fingers through the tangles.

“Come onnnnn! You promised at school!”

I rubbed my face with my palms and muttered, “Yeah, I guess.”

Florence had cornered me as I emerged from Geometry and proceeded to pester me all the way to the gym. I’d finally agreed just to get rid of her. She’d beamed at me before skipping off to last period.

Florence had been annoying me ever since she got to sixth grade. We hadn’t been in the same school for two years, and now that we were under the same roof again, she’d taken to following me around. Kevin and some of the other eighth-grade guys were giving me shit that a sixth-grader was hanging on, so I tried to shake her. Not that I gave a shit about what Kevin thought. I didn’t give a shit about what anyone in this stupid town thought. But it was getting annoying having Florence shadowing me everywhere, especially with her noisy group of airheads following her.

Every time I walked down the hallway, they’d burst into peals of hyena laughter at the sight of me. If Florence was with them, they’d quickly jam their makeup-caked faces to her ear and whisper furiously. Florence would laugh at them, then turn to give me a wave.

“Don’t you have friends or other people or something?” Florence was popular. Besides her hyena pack, she always had people sitting next to her during lunch, and in the halls, she was always smiling and laughing with a crowd. In contrast, I spent most of my time slumped over in the corner by myself while Kevin and the others were out back getting high.

“You’re my friend! I want to go look with you. It’s the season, and I have chosen you as my hunting buddy.” She sat down beneath the window, her legs crossed, and watched me as I dragged myself out of bed. “I choose you.” She pointed and her finger followed me across the room like an arrow.

“Lucky me.”

Florence’s eyes widened slightly, and it was a split second before I realized I had slept without a shirt. All I had on were sweatpants that had slid down during the night and now the top of my boxer briefs were showing. I quickly turned away from her. Thank God there was no boner. I’d been waking up with a lot of those lately.

The last thing I wanted was for Florence to be in my room while I was sporting a woody.

I stamped those thoughts out and snatched at a hoodie and t-shirt draped over a chair. I gave a quick sniff to see if they were decent, then I tugged them on quickly and pulled on some jeans lying on the floor.

The shirt was a bit tight in the chest and I stretched my shoulders up to loosen it. Puberty had hit me recently and I was still growing. Working out was easier now and I was building more muscle and weight. I was still a bit scrawny, but soon I’d be as big as the high school kids.

As I laced up my shoes, Florence stood up and swung her backpack on. Again, a clinking sound emitted from the bag. She’d probably brought some mason jars to hold the things in. I never knew why she bothered. They freaking died in two or three days; it wasn’t worth the trouble.

“Ready?” Florence asked, her voice laced with excitement.

I crammed a Cubs cap over my hair and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

A white-toothed grin. “Awesome!”

Florence went first and heaved herself out the window to shimmy down the tree. I followed, secretly marveling at how she was able to climb these things. Despite this being a farm town, most the girls here refused to muss up their overly pruned hair or chip their nail polish.

I landed on the grass with a soft thump and straightened up. Florence was bouncing up on the balls of her heels, still grinning like an idiot. She rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand, and a smudge of dirt streaked across her cheekbone.

“Same place?” Florence asked, gesturing eastward with a cant of her head.

“Sure, why not?” I said, bored.

We trotted off to the side of the house, passing the deflated tire swing and the barn where Bill’s animals were sleeping. A chicken clucked groggily when we stomped through the fresh fields of green beans and eggplant that Sandy had planted close to the house. The larger stretches of cucumbers and onions were further behind the house and we waded through, careful not to crush anything for fear of Bill’s wrath. We could have walked around the fields, but it was faster to cut through.

We walked in silence, both of us concentrating on our task, and when we finally tripped out on the other side, Florence slipped her soft hand into mine and pulled me along.

I allowed it.

Soon, we were alongside the grove of trees that separated the farm from the rest of town. These weren’t the fruit trees that Bill had planted for harvest on the other end of the property, but portions of natural forest that Bill had retained for the sake of “posterity.” Animals and wild berries lurked around these parts, and Florence loved exploring the interior.

“Hold on.” Florence finally spoke and broke her small hand out of mine. She shed her backpack and stooped down to rummage through it. The sudden rush of crisp cool air against my hand was freezing, and I frowned slightly as I rubbed the palm against my outer thigh.

I didn’t like it.

Suddenly a beam of yellow light pierced my vision and I threw up my forearms to block it.

“Hey!”

Florence laughed from her place on the ground and redirected her flashlight.

“You’re so annoying,” I grunted.

“You know you love it.”

I sighed and sat down on my haunches to get eye level with Florence. “So, where are we going to go?”

It was so dark I could barely make her out. She shined the light on her face to cast shadows under her cheeks and nose. “The pond is always a good place, with that grassy patch growing next to it.”

I nodded. Fireflies liked damp areas and typically lived at the base of long grass growing next to warm, humid bodies of water. At night, they flew around and lit up to find their mates. The trick was finding a good number of them in one place, enough to make the hunt worthwhile.

Florence stood up and I mirrored her. She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she swung her backpack on. I marveled at her hair; it was the most enticing shade of brown and always hung perfectly in loose waves. When we were kids I’d pull it from time to time, always loving the way it flowed so soft and silky between my fingers. She never seemed to mind and would laugh, and then do something equally annoying in response. But once we got older, I stopped trying for excuses to yank her hair for fear of raising suspicion.

My fingers twitched now as she readjusted the straps and combed her hair back so it fell around her face.

Florence swept her flashlight through the dark woods around us, the light bouncing off and curving around the thick tree trunks. An owl hooted from the inside and some leaves crunched in an unseen, unknown corner.

“You scared?” I said, sliding my gaze to her small form. Bill would kill us if he knew we were here. He always warned us away from the forests at night.

Florence frowned slightly and swung her flashlight back and forth, sweeping the light around as if trying to catch sight of something. Then she looked at me with wide eyes. Eyes that were so wide and so blue, something in my chest caught.

“Yeah, I’m scared,” Florence said. But she reached over and grasped my hand again. “That’s why you’re here. You’ll protect me, right?”

“Since when did I sign up as your security detail?”

“Come on, promise me it’ll be okay.” She squeezed my hand.

Her skin was soft and smooth and despite it being small, her hand fit perfectly in mine. I stamped out thoughts and reorganized my brain.

“You’ll be fine,” I said gruffly.

Her voice was gentle and slightly pleading. “Alistair … promise me!”

I sighed. “Okay, okay, I promise. Geez, man. I’ll watch your back.”

Finally satisfied, Florence grinned at me and tugged my arm.

“You’re the best. Let’s go.”

We entered the darkness together, her fingers strong and sure around mine. We knew the forest like the backs of our hands, having spent countless hours in here when we were younger. But a nighttime forest was different. Predators and prey alike came out and there was subtle, constant movement all around. Big animals that could kill us were probably not close by, but I was fairly positive something in these woods could cause us damage. I heightened my senses to make sure nothing crept up.

Florence turned the flashlight at me. “Oh, spooky,” Florence said in a ghastly voice. I rolled my eyes and she wiggled her eyebrows at me with a grin. We continued to plunge into the darkness, the only light coming from her small flashlight.

I was wide awake now and wholly in tune with the fact that we were in a dark forest, together, alone. Somehow it seemed wrong that I was here with Florence. I was getting older and I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t starting to think about girls. There was something about Florence I couldn’t figure out yet – something that whispered to a place deep within me. The answer was at the tip of my tongue, at the edge of my brain. But I didn’t want to acknowledge it yet, didn’t want to accept it for what it was.