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Neither (The Noctalis Chronicles #3) Page 3
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

Ava stirs in her sleep, her brow crinkling, as if she is worried about something. I take my fingers and smooth it. At my touch, it disappears. We will deal with tomorrow when tomorrow comes.

Two

Brooke

I should have known Ivan was bad news. He had that look about him, and it wasn't just the leather jacket. It was the whole package. He looked like the kind of guy who would lean against the outside of a bar, smoking and looking for trouble.

The first time I saw him, I'd snuck out of the house to go down to hang out with some people at the railroad tracks. Mom and her latest loser were sacked out on the couch, empty beer cans scattered around them. Big shocker.

I didn't even have to sneak to get out of the house. They were both snoring like grizzly bears as I shut the front door. It was chilly for May, the summer not having set in yet. Why couldn't I live in Florida instead of in the ass crack of northern New Hampshire?

I walked down the sidewalk, dodging streetlights, my hands in my pockets. In one I carried a small knife.

You could never be too careful.

My phone buzzed, but I didn't answer it. I knew without looking at it that it was Cara. Probably wondering where the hell I was and asking me if I had any weed. She knew I didn't, but that never stopped her from asking. I never brought the stuff into my house because I knew Mom and the loser would find it and smoke it, even if they didn't know what it was. Instead of getting calm, my mom got paranoid on pot, and I really didn't want to deal with that on top of everything else.

I wondered if Dillon would be there. I hoped he would. I'd had a crush on him for at least six months and I hadn't made my move yet. He was always flirting and kidding with me, and I could never tell if it could be more. I wanted it to be.

My thoughts were those of a typical sixteen-year-old as I walked to my death. Well, not exactly. It was more complicated than that. Just bear with me.

“Hello there,” a voice said in the darkness. My eyes whipped around, and my hand clenched my knife. No one was going to attack me.

He stepped into the streetlight and I almost gasped. He was the best-looking thug I'd ever seen. His blond hair sparkled under the harsh yellow light, and he smiled at me as if we were old friends.

“Where is a sweet blossom like you going on a night like this?” He had a British accent. I'd never met someone who spoke like that before. You didn't get a lot of them in my tiny northern town. It was mostly locals who had been born here and would die here.

“Leave me alone,” I said and kept walking, but he darted in front of me so fast, I couldn't get past him. I tried again, but he was quick. He laughed at me, a sound that was unpleasant and I knew promised of something worse.

“Leave me alone,” I said as a final warning. He was asking for a swift kick in the balls, or worse, if he didn't let me walk by.

“Reckless, I like that,” he said, grabbing my arm that held the knife. His grip was so tight I couldn't do anything. I struggled anyway.

“Let me go.”

He turned his head to the side, puzzled. He really was good-looking. Given other circumstances, I would have checked him out.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

I tried to twist out of his iron grip. Fear settled heavily on me. I didn't get scared. I channeled my fear into action. Fear was a wasted emotion, or so I'd thought. Now it raced through me like acid, eating away everything else and leaving only it behind.

“You remind me of someone,” he said. He wouldn't let go of my arm, and the harder I struggled, the tighter he held me. I stopped struggling. Maybe I could take him by surprise. “A girl I once knew.”

He talked in an odd way. Old-fashioned. He couldn't have been more than twenty, so that sent up even more red flags. I glanced around, desperate for anything. My knife was useless, since he had the arm that I would have used it with under his power. I swung a punch at his nose, but he moved his head out of the way with lightning speed.

“She tried to punch me the first time we met, too. What's your name?”

“Brooke,” I said through gritted teeth. My arm was going numb, and I still hadn't found a weakness in him. Everyone had one. I just had to find it.

“Brooke, I'm Ivan. Nice to meet you.”

“It has been nice talking to you and all, but can you let go of my effing arm?”

He looked down at his hand that held my arm as if he'd forgotten about it. He released me, and I tried to run, but he dived in front of me, grabbing my shoulders and holding me still. I went for his family jewels, but he moved again. Who was this guy?

“What do you want with me?”

“I haven't figured that out yet,” he said, and panic replaced the fear in my blood. “Would you come somewhere with me, Brooke?”

“Hell, no.” Like I had a choice.

“I am going to ask you nicely if you will come somewhere with me. You can make this easy or hard. You pick.”

I'd tried everything. Maybe lulling him into a false sense of trust was my next best move. It was worth a shot.

“Okay.”

He nodded and started walking. I thought about running, but even though I was fast, he was faster. I started following him, which was the stupidest thing I'd ever done in my life, and I'd done a lot of stupid things. Troubled kid and all that.

“Are you coming?” He turned and walked backward, grinning at me. He had one of those smiles that promised trouble. With a capital T. What had I gotten myself into?

“You're not from around here, are you?” As I said, nearly everyone in Hartsville, New Hampshire had been born and lived here their whole lives. Strange guys didn't just show up.

“No, I am not. The accent gives it away, doesn't it?” Well, duh. “I am from a little town in England you've never heard of.”

He veered around a house and out into the woods. I hesitated at the tree line, knowing that if I crossed it, something bad was going to happen. Deciding freedom was worth one last shot, I went for the house. Maybe someone would take pity on a girl being attacked in the middle of the night. I never made it to the porch. The world went out from under me as he threw me over his shoulder.

“I like you, Brooke. I really do. But I don't want you to make this difficult for me. I've already been quite nice.” He slapped my ass and I screamed in frustration.

I figured what the hell and start pounding on his back, kicking and screaming for help. I was sure most people were asleep in bed, but maybe someone would hear me.

“Stop screaming, no one is going to hear you.” With a swift movement I had no idea how he accomplished, he flipped me over and covered my mouth with his hand. His skin was cool to the touch and felt strange. That wasn't the most important thing to focus on, but it was another thing that added to the insanity of this moment.

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Chelsea M. Cameron's Novels
» Sweet Surrendering (Surrender Saga #1)
» Surrendering to Us (Surrender Saga #2)
» My Favorite Mistake (My Favorite Mistake #1)
» Faster We Burn (Fall and Rise #2)
» Deeper We Fall (Fall and Rise #1)
» For Real (Rules of Love #1)
» Christmas Catch (The 12 NAs of Christmas)
» Nocturnal (The Noctalis Chronicles #1)
» Nightmare (The Noctalis Chronicles #2)
» Neither (The Noctalis Chronicles #3)