Read Inescapable (The Premonition Series) Online
Authors: Amy A Bartol
“Nothing, he hung up.” I don’t lie. What would be the point?
“I see,” he says sympathetically.
“Do you?” I ask in surprise at his tone. I expected a different reaction from him.
“Yes. I’m sorry,” he says simply.
“So am I,” I reply sadly.
“What will you tell him?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I answer him honestly.
“Evie, you do not have to make any decisions now. You have time to figure out what you want,” Reed says softly again, and his concern for my feelings makes me want to cry.
“Reed, I’ve put some thought into it already. If what you said comes to pass, then what kind of a life could I possibly have with Russell?” I ask sadly. “If I become as strong as you are, I would run the same risks that you have with me now, only I probably won’t have the restraint that the millenniums here on Earth have taught you. I would probably end up crushing Russell without meaning to.”
“Yes,” he agrees evenly, but he sounds as if he doesn’t think that would be such a bad thing to do to Russell.
“Then, there is the fact that Russell will age while I will not. What will happen to him when people start thinking he’s a dirty old man for being with such a young girl?” I ask. “He probably wouldn’t be too thrilled about that after a while.”
“True,” Reed says sagely, but he looks as if the thought of Russell growing old is rather a funny one.
“And then, there is you. Even if I chose Russell, I don’t think I would be able to be…” I trail off, not wanting to explain.
“To be what?” he asks curiously.
“To be faithful to him,” I reply, blushing. “It’s like no one else exists when you’re around.” Reed reaches over at my words and grasps my hand. Bringing it to his lips, he kisses it. “So, I don’t know what I’ll say to him,” I explain quietly, turning again to stare out the window, not seeing any of the scenery going by.
When Reed speaks again, it is in his angelic language that I don’t understand. It comforts me with its sweetly lilting melody, and I feel calmer when he finishes.
“What did you say?” I ask him serenely.
“The same thing I told you when you were in my car with me after your premonition,” Reed replies quietly as his eyes meet mine, making my breath catch a little.
I think for a second, and then say in disappointment, “Oh, yeah, I get that I’m a frustrating creature.”
“I was not exactly truthful when I told you that was what I said,” Reed replies, smiling at me.
“Reed, you’re capable of subterfuge? I thought you were supposed to be an angel,” I tease him lightly.
Reed’s smile is rueful when he replies, “We are going to have to redefine your definition of angel.”
My eyebrow quirks, and I ask, “What did you say then—in the car after my premonition?”
“I said that you are poised to be the most perfect creature I have ever encountered, under God, and the affection that I feel for you cannot be measured on Earth, or in Paradise. That is a rough translation, but it sounds better in Angel,” he explains as his green eyes hold mine.
“That’s what you said?” I breathe, unable to completely believe what he’s telling me.
“Yes,” he says as his eyes soften. We pull into the parking lot of my dorm, and Reed parks, letting his car idle.
“When did you know that was how you felt about me?” I ask him quietly.
“At the lake, when you Tasered me,” he replies, smiling.
My eyes widen. “What?” I ask feeling stunned.
“You have so much courage…you were so magnificent,” he says in admiration.
“I was terrified,” I try to explain.
“Yes, but that is what courage is: it is acting in the face of fear,” Reed says as a justification of my emotions. “I had to reason with myself that hugging you in that moment would not produce the effect I wanted. It probably would have scared you more.”
“Good call,” I say, thinking I might’ve had a heart attack if he’d tried hugging me after I’d Tasered him. “You still wanted me to leave after our run in at the lake,” I point out.
“I have a duty, and I was worried that helping you would be in direct violation of that duty. I hoped the feelings that I have for you would pass in a millennium or two if you were not around,” he says. “Foolish huh?”
“Very,” I agree, momentarily in awe of his beautiful face. Tearing my eyes away from his, I say, “We’re going to be late for practice. I better go up and change so I can meet the girls.”
“See you tonight?” Reed asks when my fingers move to the door handle.
Disappointment floods me as I say, “I can’t—I promised Brownie and Buns that we’d hang out.”
“Oh,” he says, dropping his chin and smiling. “Tomorrow then?”
“Tomorrow,” I agree breathlessly.
I am on the verge of leaving the car when Reed catches me up in an intoxicating kiss. It doesn’t feel like a kiss goodbye; that is its masquerade. This kiss is more like having a gentle wind caress my lips in introduction, as if it exists just for me now. Slowly pulling back from him, I see wisdom within the stormy-green fire of his eyes, and like the wind, they, too, hold secrets unimaginable to me. My fingertips touch my lips where his had just been. I want to imprint this moment in my mind so that I can recall every single detail of it later.
“Bye.” I manage to say breathlessly to Reed as I get out of his car.
“Bye, Evie,” he smiles before I close the door.
I avoid Russell for the next few days during classes. It is tricky because we usually run into each other at meal times in the cafeteria, so I don’t go to breakfast or lunch. I know that avoiding Russell is only going to make all of this worse, but I don’t have a clue as to how I will explain something that is nearly inexplicable. Since most of the facts about what is happening to me are not only ludicrous, but also forbidden information, I’m at a loss as to what to do. Add to that my absolute inability to lie to Russell effectively, and I have a disaster in the making.
I spend every moment that I’m not in class with Reed. He asks me so many questions, everything from my first words as a baby to whom my date had been for prom. I eat dinner with him every night in his kitchen, and we go for walks on his estate. I ask him questions, too, but he is reluctant to talk about himself or his past. I think it’s because he has had to hide so much for so long that revelations don’t come easily for him.
We watch a few movies in Reed’s media room, but I can tell he’s not into watching chic flicks. It is funny though, seeing him try to understand a romantic comedy. His heavy sighs of exasperation whenever the male lead shows any sign of vulnerability makes me have to bite my lip so that I won’t burst out laughing. Today, however, it is amazingly simple to avoid Reed if I want to, since he is not in class, and I can’t feel him anywhere on campus.
Where can he be? What’s he doing?
I am surprised to see Freddie approaching my private study alcove in the library. He shrugs off his backpack and takes a seat in the chair near mine. “You’re alive…I was wondering where you’ve been, and believe me, I’m not the only one,” he says with his warm, Freddie smile.
“Freddie! I’m sorry. You called me and I completely forgot to call you back. I’m so psyched to see you,” I say, beaming at him.
He looks good today. His hair is growing out; it reaches just past his brows now.
Freddie is looking… cute
—
he’s facebookable.
I think, watching him kick back in the chair.
When did that happen?
“Hiding out, Evie? Is this your new lair?” he asks, assessing the situation like my own personal analyst.
“Hiding out? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have really hard classes, and I don’t want to get behind,” I flounder.
Freddie’s eyebrow arches. “Sure. I guess you don’t want these then?” Freddie says, opening his bag and withdrawing two granola bars before dangling them in front of me.
“Freddie! I did tell you already that I love you, right?” I ask, snatching one of the granola bars from his hand and tearing off the wrapper.
“Sure you told me, but it’s phat to hear it again,” he says, grinning as he tosses me the second bar.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say between mouthfuls of granola. “I need your help Freddie. I have a mission. Are you game, or are you lame?” I ask.
“I’m game, what do you have in mind?” he asks with an expression of intrigue.
“I have to get a firewall for Russell, but I’m kind of avoiding him at the moment. So, I was hoping that if I went and picked one up, you could hook me up with the installation?” I ask. “Maybe you can come with me to Coldwater to pick it out, too. I thought I’d go Saturday morning. You in?”
“You know, he asked me if I’d seen you twice today?” Freddie asks with a speculative expression.
“No, I didn’t know that,” I reply, feeling ashamed of my behavior.
“Aren’t you afraid that this firewall is going to send him mixed signals?” he asks me pointedly. “I mean, that’s why you’re in the loneliest place in the library, right, so you won’t run into Russell?”
“It’s that obvious, huh?” I ask, chewing on my lip.
“BFO, blinding flash of obvious,” he states brutally.
“What gift can I give him, Freddie, that says, ‘You’re probably the best thing that could ever happen to me, but I can’t be with you?’” I ask him dejectedly. “Because I’ll run right out and get it, regardless of the cost.”
“I don’t know, Evie, but I don’t think you’ll accomplish that with a firewall,” he says with pity.
“Well, maybe it will say, ‘I can’t give you what you want, but I can give you what you need,’” I say sadly.
“A firewall is for protection. What are you protecting him from?” Freddie asks me.
I stare at him in shock; he has an uncanny knack of reading me. I will have to be careful of what I say around him. He is
way
too intuitive for his own good. “I hadn’t realized the doctor was in, Freddie. Are you a Psych major or something?”
“Yeah.” He smiles. “How’d you know?” he asks.
“You’re going to be way too expensive for me when you open your practice,” I say, smiling at him sincerely.
“The couch is always open to you,” he says kindly. “I’ll pick you up at nine on Saturday?” he asks me. “To get the firewall…” he adds, when he sees my confusion.
“Yeah, Freddie. Thanks,” I reply gratefully.
When I return to my room, there is a note attached to my window. Opening it, I read it quickly:
Dear Evie,
I have to leave town for the weekend. If you need me, please contact me on my cell phone. Stay out of trouble and remember the rules. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
Reed
I read Reed’s note several times before I crumble it up, throwing it in the garbage can. It remains in the garbage can for at least five minutes before I pull it out, ironing the wrinkled paper with my hands. I read it again, and then it is back in the garbage can again. That note is the most disappointing letter I’ve ever received.
Not only will I not be able to see Reed all weekend, but he also doesn’t say where he is going or what he is doing. He doesn’t say definitively that he’ll be back when the weekend is over either. He tells me to stay out of trouble—like that’s an option given my current lifestyle—and there is the fact that he doesn’t even leave an endearment in there to savor. I’m not counting the “Dear Evie” part because that’s just how you’re supposed to open a letter. Some boyfriend.
Then my paranoid side kicks in, and I start wondering if he is avoiding me.
Ugh! Well, good luck because you’re stuck with me,
I think.
He did leave a note,
I admit after sitting on my bed dejectedly for a while.
Still lame.
Buns and Brownie save me from spending the night in a deep depression when they come bounding into my room, insisting that I go with them to the party at the Delt House. “The theme is, ‘Peeping Toms and Soccer Moms,’” Brownie informs me while throwing open my closet and rummaging through it.
Despite everything, I laugh. “That’s so funny,” I smile. “Are you going to dress up?”
“We’re going to try to look like MILFs,” Brownie shrugs. “We were thinking of going so that we could check out the composite we want to take for the war. I think those things are screwed into the wall, so we can’t just lift them off—we’ll need a screwdriver.”
I nod my head. “One of those battery-powered screwdrivers would be the fastest. It may make some noise, but not enough for them to hear us if they’re having a house meeting. When do the Delts meet again?” I ask.
“Wednesdays, sweetie,” Buns reminds me. “I’ll buy a battery-powered screwdriver.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to get in their house late at night?” I ask.
“Sweetie, it’s a frat house. There is always someone awake at night in a frat house. I swear those guys play their game consoles all night long,” Buns says, sounding annoyed. “I can’t wait until you see the cute little spy outfits we got online. Yours will look great on you, and it will be very helpful if you get caught because you’ll look too cute to torture.”
“A duel purpose, lovely,” I reply. “I don’t plan on getting caught, though.”
“Does this say MILF or MIRF?” Brownie asks, holding up a short black skirt.
“What’s MIRF?” I ask Buns, trying to figure out the new acronym.
“Oh, it means, ‘Mom I’d Run From,’” Buns says helpfully.
Brownie finally opts for a short skirt and blouse. When I put them on, she makes me turn around and applies a bumper sticker to my bum that reads: “Proud Parent of an Honor Roll Student at Crestwood Elementary,” like I’m a minivan or something.
“You know what would look good with this? The gold bangle bracelets Elise gave me,” Buns says.
“Gold bangles?” I ask, with a crooked smile. “I thought we were supposed to look like soccer moms.”
“We’ll be the LA soccer moms with the
au pairs
and botox,” Brownie says with a cheeky grin.
When Buns returns with the bracelets, I put them on, and I have to admit, they’re very beautiful. The bracelets make a musical kind of clicking sound when I move my wrist that is kind of sweet, too.
We walk to the Delt House together and when we near it, JT stands up on the railing of the deck and shouts,
“Buns!”
“Sweetie!”
Buns calls back in typical Buns fashion.
“Ladies, welcome to the Delt House,” JT says, sweeping his arms wide. “Pete, look who’s here,” he says, indicating Brownie. “And Evie! Pete, quick, get her a beer before she passes out,” he says, grinning at me while holding up the peeping torn binoculars from around his neck. “Have you ever been here before, Evie?” JT asks me.
“Once, when I visited the college for a campus tour,” I say, while mentally counting the number of steps it takes to reach the front door from the porch. JT gives us a guided tour of the Delt House; I pay particular attention when he shows us the billiard room that is lined with the most recent composites for the house.
When our tour progresses to other parts of the house, I make the excuse of having to go to the bathroom, telling my group that I’ll catch up with them afterward. I quickly go back downstairs to the rooms near the billiard room. I’m looking for a utility closet for something we’re planning. I luck out when I locate one in the hallway near the billiard room. It’s perfect for what I have in mind. It is the size of a walk-in pantry and it’s only being utilized for cleaning supplies and toiletries.
On a whim, I check the room on the other side of the utility closet. This room is a den with comfortable brown-leather armchairs and low, polished wooden tables that are perfect for spreading out books. As I admire the dark wooden wainscot that circles the room, I notice that I’m not alone. My eyes briefly rest on a couple kissing in the corner, and I quickly look away from them, embarrassed to have barged in on a private moment between them.
I start to back out of the room when recognition hits me; my attention shifts back to the lovers entwined. Russell, sitting in the armchair with a cute little blond on his lap, is to use his own words, helping himself to her. Jealousy like I’ve never known before courses savagely through me. I flush hot and then cold in a matter of seconds. Standing frozen, I finally regain my composure and continue to back out of the room.
Grasping the handle of the door gently, I try not to make a sound, but the bangle bracelets on my wrist click together, alerting Russell to my presence. Russell’s brown eyes lock on mine for a brief moment before I dart out of the room. From behind the closed door, I hear him say, “Ahh
shoot,
Red, holdup!”
In the hallway, I frantically begin looking around for a place to hide. I immediately duck into the utility closet and close the door. Standing there, panting in the dark, I try to make sense of everything I had seen in the room next door.
Had I really just walked in on the love of my past several
—
I don’t even know how many
—
lifetimes macking on some girl he just met?
I wonder stupidly as hurt and betrayal war inside of me, vying for supremacy.
It’s unreasonable for me to feel this way, given the fact that I know that I can’t be with Russell. This is undoubtedly the best thing for him, but, at this moment, rational thought has no place in my world of hurt. I back up from the door until I come up against the far wall of the closet. I slide down the wall to sit on the floor among the shelves full of rolls of toilet paper and refill bags of liquid hand soap. When the shock of seeing Russell with someone else begins to wear off, I realize that all I want to do is go home and cry.