Make Me Lose Control (22 page)

“Yep. I read them right along with you. I do a lot of traveling, I spend a lot of nights alone, so they came in handy. Even those ‘girl’ books.” He mimicked her scare quotes.

A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “We...we sort of had a book club.”

“We sort of did.” He hesitated. “And we can again...would you like that?”

Her smile broadened, showing her pearly whites, then she bit it back. At fifteen, he knew, she wouldn’t want to show too much enthusiasm for anything. Particularly when it came to him.

But when she said, “I would like that,” it felt as if the heavens had opened and even though it was still night, that a brilliant beam of sun bathed the top of his head and the breadth of his shoulders.

Shay’s voice echoed in his head again.
Jace, she’s special. You know that, right?

And he also knew that even though it was the best thing to do, it was going to be damn rough to walk away from his daughter again.

* * *

E
VEN
THOUGH
THEIR
time at Blue Arrow Lake was running out, London’s father hadn’t given up putting in hours at the Walker cabins. He said he liked the chance to work with tools instead of spreadsheets and blueprints. Shay went with him in the afternoons, which had left London free to hang out—usually with Amy. Sometimes with Amy and Colton.

Today she’d been roped into helping at the old ski resort herself, though, because Mason had called, begging to see her. Now he and Poppy had gone home and she was supposed to be meeting Amy and one of her friends in the local hideout in the Walker woods...the most remote and dilapidated cabin. Arrow High was out for the year now, and the girls were planning to get there via mountain bike.

London had kept quiet about the local kids using the old place. So far, the Walker family had been focused on the most easily accessible cabins in the clearing. When they started rehabbing the rest, the teens would figure it out, she was sure, and abandon their use of it.

Grabbing a water bottle from the cooler they’d brought with them, London waved to get Shay’s attention. She was on a ladder, cleaning gutters, while Jace was inside one of the other bungalows doing something that involved loud electric sawing noises.

“What’s up?” Shay asked, wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her wrist.

“I’m going for a hike, okay?”

“Do you have your phone?”

London patted the front pocket of her shorts.

“We don’t always have the best signal strength out here,” Shay warned. “A text will go through if a call won’t, though.”

“Got it.”

“No more than an hour, okay?”

London waved again and headed into the surrounding woods. It was cooler here than in the clearing, and it smelled like clean earth and warm leaves. She trailed her fingers over the barks of the trees as she wound around them, a sort of goodbye.

A squirrel zipped past and scampered up a pine and she watched his ascent, until he paused on a branch, looking down at her with bright eyes. He chattered, his tone scolding.

“I’m moving along, see?” she said, strolling past his tree. “And I’ll be gone altogether soon.”

The thought made her footsteps drag. She shuffled through the decaying leaves and dried pine needles and wondered what she’d be doing a month from now. Six months from now.

What someone else directed her to do, of course.

Sighing, she kicked at a pinecone and watched it fly. It reminded her of that boat ride she’d taken with Colton, when she’d felt the air rush past. That day she’d thought her life was about to begin.

Now she was back to being a fifteen-year-old freak, anticipating becoming the new girl at a new school.

A fifteen-year-old freak who had learned to drive the boat herself, though, she thought, brightening a little. And maybe not so much a freak, because she had better hair now and better clothes and best of all—a friend in Amy. Maybe Colton, too, though she’d hoped that might turn into something more.

That wasn’t going to come true, either, she supposed. Time had practically run out.

She was moving on to the next school, never kissed.

Up ahead was the cabin that the kids used as their hideout. She’d discovered it before and when Colton mentioned it knew instantly the one he meant. As she approached the bungalow, she frowned. No mountain bikes were parked outside. Instead, a dusty and battered lean motorcycle stood braced on its kickstand.

Hesitating, she slid her hand in her pocket and fingered her phone. “Ames?” she called out. “Amy?”

From around the corner of the cabin came Colton. “Oh,” she said, putting her hand over her heart.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, you didn’t.” How could he, looking all windblown and tall? She didn’t know if he’d worn braces like his sister, but his teeth were perfectly even, perfectly white.

He was so perfect.

“I was expecting Amy.”

“Yeah. Last-minute babysitting job.” He dangled a plastic grocery bag in his hand. “I told her I’d bring the books she wanted to give you.”

“Thanks.” Feeling oddly shy, London moved forward to grab them. When she was closer, she could smell a hint of that shampoo he used. It reminded her of the other times they’d met at the boathouse and she realized this was the first time they’d been alone since she’d been introduced to his sister.

Something fluttered to life in her belly.

“How’s it going?” Colton said. He crossed to a fallen log and dropped onto it, resting his elbows on his knees.

He wore a pair of jeans. Another white T-shirt. Instead of flip-flops he was wearing a pair of work boots.

She gestured to them. “I’ve never seen you in real shoes.” Then her face burned. What an idiotic thing to say!

But Colton didn’t seem to mind. Stretching out his legs, he tapped the toes together. “When I’m out on my motorcycle, it’s the rule.” His mouth quirked. “See, I don’t get everything I want, either.”

London nodded, unsure what to add.

“Am I getting the silent treatment again?” he asked, smiling. Then he patted a spot next to him on the log. “Sit. You’re giving me a crook in my neck.”

London did as directed, and set the bag of books by her feet. Amy was a big fan of the fantasy genre and was lending her the first three volumes of one of her favorite series.

“I’m glad we have this chance to talk alone.”

Her head turned toward him, belly fluttering again. “Oh?”

“I wanted to thank you for making sure my sister didn’t follow through with her harebrained schemes the other night.”

“You wouldn’t have let her.”

“Yeah, but she would have felt bad that way. It’s better that you nixed the idea.”

She felt her mouth curve. “I couldn’t see myself writing that Anne Frank–inspired book.”

He laughed, then shook his head. “I know. She’s supposed to be smart, but I don’t really see it myself.”

London shrugged a shoulder, still smiling. “She has good taste in new friends,” she said. “And big brothers.”

Oh, God, she thought, panicking a little. Where had that come from? And why had it come out sounding a little...flirty?

Colton was looking at her no differently than a moment before, however, so that was good.

Or was it?

She swallowed, trying to ease her suddenly dry throat. Here she was, alone with the boy of her dreams, for possibly the very last time.

And she’d never been kissed.

This might be her final opportunity to be kissed by Colton.

Wiping her damp palms on her denim shorts, she tried thinking how she could make that happen. What signals must she send to get him to take the hint?

First, she was too far away. Trying to be as smooth as possible, she wiggled her butt on the log and then feigned pain. “Ouch,” she said, jumping to her feet. She rubbed her back pockets and noted with a combination of nerves and satisfaction that Colton’s gaze was following the movement.

It jerked up to her face and he cleared his throat. “You’re hurt?”

“Just a knot or something.” She reseated herself, this time right next to him. “Better here.”

“Yeah. Good,” he muttered.

London did not know where to go with this next. She had zero experience, freak that she was. Perspiration prickled under her arms and she hoped her deodorant wouldn’t give out. Her mouth still felt minty fresh, though, thanks to the gum Mason had shared with her earlier.

The birds were the only ones interrupting the silence. London stared at her knees and prayed for inspiration. “So about that Seven Minutes in Heaven game,” she said, out of nowhere.

Her face burned again. Why had she brought that up? She was not only a freak, but also an idiot. And if she’d had a hoodie she would have crawled inside it like a sleeping bag, zipping herself inside.

“What about it?” Colton asked.

“You’ve played it a lot?”

“In seventh and eighth grade a few times. We were bored that night and Janice thought it would be funny to do it again.”

“Ah.”

“I wouldn’t have played it at the boathouse, though.”

She glanced over at him. “No?”

“I didn’t think you should have, either,” Colton said. “Especially with Sam.”

Was he jealous? And why did he say he wouldn’t have played? Did that mean he wouldn’t have played with
her
? “What’s wrong with Sam?”

“Nothing, except you don’t know him.”

“So...you only kiss people you know?” She looked at him from under her lashes.

He shrugged. “London...”

“How well do you think one should know the people one kisses?” She could feel the heat of his body all along the side of hers and all she could think about was what it would feel like
against
hers. What his lips would feel like when they touched hers.

Where had all the oxygen gone? Didn’t trees and plants make the stuff?

Gathering up her courage, she looked at Colton again. He was staring down at her, a question in his eyes.

But he’d not answered hers. “I said, how well do you think one should know the people one kisses?”

“I guess...I guess it depends,” he said slowly.

“How about me and you?” She was going to win a prize as the bravest girl in the universe. “Do you think we know each other well enough?”

He leaned away from her, a crease digging between his eyebrows. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

And he called his sister harebrained! London clasped her hands together, trying to decide what hint to lay down next. But the free hour she had was running down, her time at Blue Arrow Lake was nearly gone, and if she spent one more day without a kiss from a boy she...would...die.

Taking a deep breath, she put her hands on his shoulders, lifted up off the log a few crucial inches and...

Planted her mouth on his.

His lips were warm and a little chapped and she smelled his shampoo and grape soda. His muscles were rigid beneath her palms, his whole body seemed to be as still as a statue, and she hadn’t the slightest idea what to do next.

She knew about tongues and wet sloppies—which didn’t sound so icky when Colton was involved—but should she just poke it in there? And why wasn’t he doing anything, including kissing her back?

A wave of humiliation rolled up from her toes. She scrambled away from him, staring at him in sudden horror. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He rose off the log, both palms up in the air. “No, it’s okay. I should have said something. I didn’t know...I didn’t think...”

Where were the predator drones when she could use one? Right now would be a good time for something to drop from the sky and annihilate her. A prick of tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she told herself she could not cry.

She began backing away. “I’ve got to go.”

“England, wait. Wait just a minute.”

Shaking her head, she kept her feet moving in the opposite direction. “I’ve got to go,” she repeated.

“I have a girlfriend,” Colton said.

London’s spine smacked into a tree, halting her movement.

“She’s taking a semester in South America. She’ll be back next week.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I made promises.”

“Of course you did,” London said. “I’m so, um, happy for you both.” Then she whirled and ran through the forest. A fifteen-year-old who had kissed, but who still had never
been
kissed.

A freak.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

J
ACE
MET
UP
with Shay at the cooler they’d filled with cold drinks and brought to the cabins. He lifted his arm to dry his sweaty face on the short sleeve of his T-shirt. “Hot today,” he said.

“Summer,” she replied as if her mind were a million miles away.

It had been like that for the past couple of days. A preoccupied Shay walking through each morning, afternoon and evening with shadows under her eyes. She lifted her hand to take a swallow from her soda can and Jace’s stomach tightened when he saw a deep scratch on her forearm.

He grasped her wrist, bringing the wound close for an inspection. “How did this happen?”

“What?” She blinked at him, glanced down at the line of dried blood, shrugged. “I don’t know.” Turning her head, she looked around as if the source of the scratch would stand up and salute.

He tamped down his concern. It was a minor hurt, after all, but he couldn’t like her preoccupation. Pouring water from his bottle over the scratch, he took a longer study of her face. “You shouldn’t be up on a ladder when you’re so distracted.”

She blinked again. “What?”

“Shay.” He dropped the empty bottle and dried her skin with the hem of his T-shirt. “I know you aren’t sleeping well. I hear you puttering around at night.”

“Strange dreams,” she said, slipping her wrist from his grasp to inspect the broken skin herself.

“Something has happened,” he said. “Or something has changed.”

Her gaze jerked to his face, then jerked away. “Nothing’s happened. Nothing’s changed.”

It was her own fault, he decided, that he wanted to keep pushing her. From the very first she’d let him into her private inner self, the core of her that her family thought she kept unknowable. When she’d shared her dislike for birthdays and later revealed more fully the discomfort she felt with the circumstances of her conception, she’d planted the seed that grew into this...caring.

It wasn’t something he was comfortable feeling—concern, worry about her well-being—but she’d hooked him. So now he wanted to know what was troubling her.
That’s what friends are for
, she’d said to him at the theater, and friendship was a two-way street, damn it.

“Let me help,” he said. “Tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours. Maybe I can do something.”

“No.”

Her refusal spiked his temper and he plunged his hand into the cooler’s icy water in an attempt to chill it down. He pulled a second bottle of water free. “I don’t like seeing you unhappy.”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

He eyed her, noting the edge to her voice. “That sounds like it has everything to do with me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You get that little bit of body language from London. So you know, it’s just as annoying when you do it.”

The observation startled a laugh out of her. “I’m not surprised. I wonder how long it will take me to drop the bad habit?”

Jace reached out to touch her hair. It sifted through his fingers like warm rain. “Ryan once told me you wouldn’t let yourself get close to London—but I think he’s wrong. You’ll miss her.”

Shay hesitated a moment. “I’ll miss her.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?”

“I’ll get over that. I’ll get over all of it.”

All of it? He frowned at her, disliking when she turned away from him so he couldn’t see her face. Their time together was coming to an end and he hated the idea of leaving her in this odd state of—he didn’t know. Yes, he could stop prying, but, damn it, he’d like to do right by Shay.

“What do you need to get over? Can I help? Let me help.” He was practically begging.

“I’m fine—”

“You’re clearly not fine,” he said, temper snapping, and his hand shot out to turn her toward him again. “I’m not going to give up until—”

“Until I admit how stupid I am?” Temper had lit her eyes, too.

He pulled her closer. “You’re not stupid. Never that.” His palm caressed the curve of her shoulder. “What is it, honey?”

“I—” She bit her lip.

“You...?”

Snagging the unopened bottle of water out of his free hand, she stepped away. She gave great attention to unscrewing the cap. “I thought there were adoption papers.”

“Huh?”

“I was told, since I was a child, that Dell Walker formally adopted me.”

“Okay.” He remembered her asking her brother about the documents. “And...it’s not true?”

She nodded. “Brett’s known for a long time. He said Dell meant to go through with it—the adoption—but it cost money and so I guess he put it off and then...”

He thought she swallowed back a sob. “And then he passed away?”

“Yes.” She rubbed one hand over her face. “My brother and sisters say it doesn’t matter. Of course they’re right.”

But it did matter. It mattered to her.

“Oh, honey,” he said, reaching to take her into his arms.

She jolted back. “Don’t touch me. I can’t have you touching me right now.”

The panic in her voice put him on a new alert. “Shay,” he said. “That’s not all, is it?”

“Leave me alone.” Again, that panic.

“You can tell me anything.”

“Not this.”

The misery on her face made his gut turn itself into a pretzel. He
had
to do something for her. He
had
to make whatever it was right. Determined, he reached for her again just as his daughter came rushing into the clearing, her face red, her hair disheveled.

Jace’s gut twisted tighter and he lurched forward. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s happened?”

London ignored his questions and turned her tear-filled gaze toward Shay. “I’m fifteen,” she said. “I’m fifteen and I’ve never been kissed!”

While that didn’t sound like a calamity to Jace, clearly there was some subtext that he was missing. He glanced at Shay and she returned the look, her eyebrows rising.

She wasn’t getting what the tragedy was, either.

“Um...” Jace said, at a loss. “Would you like a soda?”

His daughter sent him a withering glance. “Wh-what will that do?” she wailed, and then launched herself at Shay.

The story that poured itself out in words and tears took some time to make sense to Jace. When he finally absorbed the salient facts, his fingers curled into fists. “I’m going to kill that kid,” he declared.

London turned in the circle of Shay’s arms to stare at him. Shay did the same. “No!” they said at the same time.

His daughter turned back to Shay. “I shouldn’t have told you,” she said, hiccupping between each word. “I would have told my friend Amy, but she’s Colton’s sister—”

“Of course you couldn’t tell her,” Shay soothed.

“I’m so h-humiliated. Nobody in the whole world has ever felt so ashamed.”

Shay patted her back. “I know it feels that way right now.”

“What if I see him again? I’ll have to throw myself in front of a car if I see him again.”

“Then he’ll know he hurt you. Better to keep your chin up, swing your hips and smile.”

London lifted her head. “S-swing my hips?”

“It’s a female thing,” Shay said, her lips curving just a little. “I’ll demonstrate later.”

“Is it kind of like pretending you’re having the best time ever?”

“It’s exactly like pretending you’re having the best time ever.”

Another shudder ran through London. “Maybe I can do that.” She wiped her palms over her wet cheeks. “This is awful, though. What must he be thinking?” She burst into more tears.

Instead of answering, Shay drew her close again. The girl laid her head on the woman’s shoulder. “R-remember how you t-told me that time it was g-going to be all r-right?”

Jace didn’t know what to do, so he just stood there watching as Shay smiled, her eyes closing. “Yes. And it’s going to be all right now, too.” She pressed a kiss to Jace’s daughter’s hair.

That kiss felt like a dart to his heart.

Minutes passed as London’s crying came in fits and starts before tapering off at last. “I’m g-glad I told you,” she said finally, looking at Shay, her lashes spiky and wet.

“All girls know how it feels to be rejected. It’s a sad truth of life that you can like a boy—like him
a lot
—and he might not return your feelings. There’s nothing you can do to change that. You can only put on a pleasant front and fake it until you make it.”

London hiccupped again, sighed. “I wish
he
hadn’t heard,” she said with a quick glance over her shoulder.

Ouch, Jace thought, another dart. That
he
was him. Shay met his gaze over his daughter’s head. He twisted his mouth in a wry smile, shrugged. It was no more than he deserved. “I think I’ll take a walk.”

When his daughter whipped around, alarm written all over her face, he held out both hands. “Not in the same direction you came from.”

Her shoulders relaxed.

He turned, took two steps away, then, without giving himself a chance to change his mind, spun back. “London.”

Her gaze was wary as he approached.

He cleared this throat. “You’re wondering what that rat—”

“He’s not a rat,” she said quickly. “He didn’t ask for me to kiss him.”

Jace nodded. “Okay, we’ll give him a medal.”

“Let’s not go that far.” A ghost of a smile warmed her sad face.

It might as well have been the most brilliant rainbow to ever grace the sky. “Anyway,” he said, “you’re wondering what Colton thinks.”

She shrugged.

“As the only one here with the male mind-set, I think I can actually clue you in.”

Another shrug.

“I’m betting he feels sorry that he hurt you or somehow gave you the wrong impression, but he’s going to swagger a little bit, as bad as that may sound.”

“Why?” Her brows rose over her pretty brown eyes.

“Because this afternoon a smart, beautiful and funny girl gave him something special.”

New tears welled.

“Now don’t go getting any ideas about the indiscriminate handing-out of kisses,” he said with a pointed look. “But take my word for it. Any boy would be beyond flattered to be kissed by you.”

He wasn’t prepared for what came next. Lightning would have surprised him less. Instead it was a hurricane, a girl force that flew right into his arms. He closed them around his daughter as she wept against his shoulder. His heart felt like it was crying right along with her.

Happy tears.

Because, he knew, he hadn’t failed in this instance. He’d finally done something right for a female in his life. He’d finally done something right for his daughter.

* * *

S
MOKE
TASTED
LIKE
ash on Shay’s tongue. When she looked up, through the dense trees, it colored the sky with a strange reddish-gray, like a slap morphing into a bruise.

Usually the woods were full of noises, skittering birds, humming insects, the scolding chatter of squirrels and blue jays, so that she never felt alone, even on solo hikes like this one. But now it was silent except for the papery sound of the wind moving the leaves of the oaks. The branches of the cedars and pines were moving, too, but silently, as if desperate not to attract attention.

She glanced at the sky again, disquiet growing until it filled her chest, nearly suffocating her. The fire was too close.

Getting closer.

Spinning, she tried orienting herself. This was Walker land, her family’s legacy, and she knew it like other kids knew their backyards. But it looked different to her now, the trail at her feet seeming to erase itself as a small flurry of ash rained down.

She reached out to steady herself on the solid trunk of a tree. Was it vibrating with apprehension, or was it that her hand was shaking? By her foot, an alligator lizard poked its pointy snout from beneath a ragged fallen leaf and she jumped in surprise. It jumped, too, then disappeared into some nearby undergrowth.

It gave her the idea that it was time for her to get going, too.

But which direction?

She turned in another circle, trying to establish her bearings, as more gray flakes sifted down on her. Maybe if she called out, her father would find her. But she’d wandered far from his truck and the inner surface of her lips felt as if they were pasted to her teeth.

Her mouth couldn’t form words, even if someone was near enough to hear them.

In the distance, a new sound. Shay stilled, her head tilting this way and that to better identify the noise.
Crackle, snap, pop
, like breakfast cereal amplified.

Like flames.

Disquiet turned to pure terror. It was so absolute, so all-consuming, that her reaction must have come from some prehistoric part of her brain. Without conscious command, her feet scrambled on the dirt and decaying leaves and she began to run.

The monster was chasing her, she knew that. It was roaring, its breath hot, its anger now whipping the branches of the trees so they lashed her face and scraped at her bare arms. Each inhale brought in more heat and the dark taste of danger.

“Shay!”

She heard her name, though it was nearly lost in the monster’s voice and the sounds of her harsh, frightened breaths.

“Shay!”

Though her mouth opened, nothing came out. She was strangled by her own fear.

“Where are you, Shay?”

She didn’t know. Or she did. Hell. It had to be hell, which the books said was a burning place of fire and torture. Demons. The flames at her back, her feet skittered to a halt as one of those terrifying creatures came toward her, lurching through the trees.

It was huge, a hulking shape, with gray ash blanketing its body. Black covered its face and it had icy, crazed eyes that bored into her. Baring its teeth, it reached for her.

Jolting back, she gasped, torn between a faint and a scream.

The demon’s black claws found her flesh, bit into her skin. She screamed and over her cry she heard it speak.