Bound by Secrets by Angela M Hudson

Author:Angela M Hudson [Hudson, Angela M]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780648328087
Publisher: Oakland Press
Published: 2016-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

42

David

Ara chose a pink quilt for her new bedroom and had Mike cover the walls with butterflies. She would only sleep in there a few nights a week, but it was her room—just down the hall from mine, adjacent to the other hidden door to Harry’s room—her window overlooking the lake across the road.

When Mike realized how unintentionally cruel he’d been to keep her on the couch, he’d cried. He was one of the only other people that loved her once as much as I did, and it broke his heart, visibly, that he’d done that to her.

She felt bad for making him feel bad, even begged me not to tell him she’d been upset. She understood so little of the world that every time I came to realize that a little more, it made me feel like more of a monster for punishing her the way I did.

We’d started anew, as friends, but I accepted the fact that she would most likely never love me now after the way I treated her. Not in the way I wanted her to love me. Still wanted her to. Wanted this Ara to. Since getting to know her better this week, I’d seen her for the bright little spark she really was. I just wanted to spend all my time with her. Even asked if she’d come as my Cinderella for Halloween tomorrow night. But she’d already been costume shopping with Cal. My nemesis. The one thing truly standing in the way.

There was a remedy for that, however. Once he was a vampire, it would be immensely easy to trick him into breaking a supreme law, and then I’d be rid of him for at least a hundred years—a hundred years of grade-one torture.

As my evil side brushed on the horrors he would endure, the human heart in me squeezed, restricting my breath as flashes from those tombs darkened my mind. I focused on the foot of my bed, seeing the blue cover there where there once was a white one—one Ara chose when we shared this room on visits to Australia—which only made the agony worse. I could almost feel her body beside mine, feel her soft skin brush against my leg every time she rolled over, and as I cast my eyes across the room to the cold fireplace, I could see us sitting there talking late in the night.

But it wasn’t my Ara, I realized. When I looked on our past for a small sliver of comfort, it was this new Ara I saw sitting there with me.

I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling the deep ridges of my scars there, waiting for the tightness inside me to evolve into a panic attack, but it didn’t this time. It was like I could feel her hand there, comforting my agony, dulling the pain and the torture in my soul until I felt almost nothing at all—nothing but the scars that remained. And they were just scars for a moment, while I thought of her.

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