At Woods Edge Page 9

“What’s wrong?” Ryan whispered, pulling back from her lips. She was tense, she knew that. Cassie shivered as his breath danced across her throat. His lips pressed warm kisses in the wake of his words and she hoped her reaction would be written off as a response to his actions, not the bemused eyes that were moving closer every moment.

  “Do you want to go to your car?” she asked, biting her lip. Ryan’s brow knit as confusion twisted his features.

  “Are you okay? Am I pushing?”

  “No. It’s nothing,” she answered. She pulled his face to hers, pressed her lips against his willing mouth. Ryan kissed her back, distracted.

  She shut her eyes. She didn’t know what Ryan would see if he spun around just now, didn’t know if Aidan would look like himself or even be visible at all. Most especially, she didn’t want to give it away that she could still see Aidan. Not yet. She hadn’t decided yet. So she ignored him and focused only on Ryan.

  It wasn’t until an out of place touch, a fingertip that skimmed across the knuckles of the hand she had thrust into Ryan’s hair, that Cassie opened her eyes again. Aidan was close, ridiculously close, touching her in passing. He moved behind Ryan, edging around the couple until he was right next to Cassie, his back leaning casually against the wall beside her. He rolled to face her, keeping one shoulder pressed to the cold brick. Ryan didn’t even blink. Her boyfriend caught her lips and kissed her jawline, again and again, not aware of the creature that watched their every move.

  The breeze whispered over her skin, cooling it in fresh swipes. She felt feverish one moment, freezing the next. It wasn’t just the weather; it was more than that. Ryan touched and she burned, Aidan locked eyes with her and she froze, every muscle clenched against acknowledging him.

  Ryan’s hands slipped under the hem of her shirt and she shivered in the warm press of his fingertips. His touch was soft on her skin, tentative. He kissed her softly, gentle movements against her mouth, tender and reverent.

  “Isn’t he sweet.”

  The taunting hiss rushed through the air, lifted by the breeze, and the words bounced around inside her skull. It felt so familiar, this whisper of voices in her head, that Cassie felt abruptly sick, like there was something inherently wrong with her that allowed her to hear these things. Aidan mocked her, standing close enough to feel her body heat. Ryan didn’t flinch, didn’t notice. He let his hands drift high, stroking along her stomach. Cassie’s muscles clenched in protest.

  “Sorry,” Ryan whispered, dragging his fingers down again, letting her shirt flutter back into place as he withdrew. Cassie wanted to scream in frustration. It wasn’t him. It was never him. It was Aidan, always there, every time.

  “Don’t be, please,” she said, reaching on tiptoe to pull his face back toward her. He came but the moment was broken.

  “It was not like that with me,” Aidan said, laughing softly. “I knew what you wanted.”

  Aidan reached forward, avoiding Ryan, and let a single finger stroke up Cassie’s arm. Every muscle up her arm clenched in protest, her jaw grit in anger and frustration. Ryan noticed and pulled back, resting his forehead against her own.

  It was more than Aidan’s touch, the whisper soft slide of his skin against hers could have almost been pleasant, an infusion of heat in the cooling air. It was the intrusion, the audacity that he should think she would want him touching her. The acknowledgement that he didn’t care. He touched her not for her comfort, but because he had simply wanted to. And he knew she wouldn’t—couldn’t—object.

  It was invasive, and possessive, and scary, that anyone should feel they had the right to touch her without her permission. She hated him all the more for it.

  Cassie swallowed hard as Ryan moved away from her. Her one moment, her worst mistake, with Aidan had been mad, lust driven, and irrational. Her brain had stopped working completely and yes, she was overcome. But he was too intense, too demanding. It had scared her. She didn’t trust Aidan, she never would, and every action of his since then screamed reasons that she never could.

  “I care about you, too, Ryan,” Cassie said. She jumped at him, whispering the words into the juncture of his neck. “More than you know, I think.”

  He kissed her brow before offering her a ride home. She accepted immediately, turning her back on the creature who was now resting in their place against the bricks, humming a jaunty tune.

  The town’s pizza joint was hot and crowded. The softball teams and their supporters took up one entire side of the small, interior space. Circular fans spun noisily overhead, a poor attempt to dispel the heat of the pizza ovens combined with the unseasonably warm temperature outside. Cassie’s team had just played their first game and won by two runs. Tradition dictated that after the first win of the season, the whole team celebrated by taking over the local restaurant and gorging out on pizza. Everyone was buzzing with energy from the combination of greasy food, caffeinated drinks, and the thrill of victory.

  Lara was one of the loudest, letting several curses slip out unintentionally. There would be hell to pay at their next practice, Coach Kelly insisted on a lap for every swear word she caught coming out of her players’ mouths. Only her laps were a mile long, around each of the ball fields that surrounded the school. Their coach had been eyeing Lara from across the restaurant for the last half hour. Cassie saw her marking things off on the little notepad she kept in her back pocket. Lara owed at least five miles already, Cassie was sure.

  “Here’s to Cassie nabbing that pop-up bunt!” Lara called out. Stephanie whistled loudly, her fingers stuck in her mouth, earning a dirty look from the elderly couple splitting a spaghetti bolognese on the other side of the restaurant.

  Everyone else raised a plastic cup of soda, smeared with greasy fingerprints from the eight pizzas that were in the process of being devoured. It was part of the softball team ritual, binge eating and also toasting each other over their plays after the first win of the season.

  “And here’s to Joanie,” Cassie called out, “for not breaking down in tears during her first Varsity game.”

  “Unlike someone we all know,” Lindsey Crofton said under her breath, nudging Rebecca. “Eh, Becca.”

  “That was one time!” she cried out, shoving Lindsey. “You did good, Joanie.”

  The rest of the group, Joanie’s parents included, all cheered. They settled, conversation lulling as the parents all started speaking with Coach Kelly and Lara grabbed for another slice of pizza.

  “Oh,” Lara slurred, talking through a full mouth. “We forgot someone.”

  The rest looked up at her quizzically, not just because she was still chewing but because it was the softest she had spoken all day.

  “Cheers to Samuel Phillips, without whom this day would not be possible,” Lara said in mock formality, lifting her glass. The rest followed with sniggers, looking from each other to the parents. None of the adults seemed to register. Samuel was a disturbing name to them, a freak cultist; but he was a hero to most of the students. Cassie wondered if he knew just what he had gotten himself into when he took responsibility for that act of vandalism. Again, she couldn’t help but wonder who had coerced him.

  She excused herself for a moment, breaking away from the team to use the restroom. When she returned, she saw Officer Gibbons sitting alone in a corner of the pizza place, a small glass of soda placed in front of him. He nodded at her and she stopped.

  “Good game today,” he said.

  “Thanks.” Cassie pulled out the chair across from him and sat. She hadn’t seen him at the game, but she wasn’t surprised he had been watching.

  “I think your table’s over there,” he said, indicating the group of rowdy girls with an incline of the soda he picked up.

  “I know where it is, thanks.”

  “Was it him?” Officer Gibbons asked, taking a long sip of his drink. The ice shifted inside the glass, a gentle chinking she could just hear over the noise of the fans, pizza ovens, and girls.

 
“Not a chance,” Cassie answered. Gibbons chuckled.

  “No, I didn’t think so.”

  “So why charge Samuel Phillips with anything?” she asked, tilting her head in consideration. He shrugged.

  “He’s confessing. He’s an idiot. A young idiot, but still. What should we do? Cut him loose?”

  “Maybe,” she said, shrugging. “Do you believe me now? Do you think there’s someone else?”

  “Maybe I still think it was you,” he said, watching her.

  “No, you don’t!” she scoffed, throwing herself back in the chair and crossing her arms. She glared at him from across the table.

  “No, you’re right, I don’t,” he murmured, leaning forward, his arms on the table. “You’re scared of something. And not a thirteen-year-old, scrawny kid.”

  “I’m not scared of Samuel,” Cassie said in a tiny voice, unfolding her arms slowly. She huffed and leaned forward, meeting Officer Gibbons’ stare.

  “Are you ready to tell me yet?” he asked, watching her closely. The noise of her teammates seemed suddenly louder, the sounds of chewing from the table next to her was deafening. She looked around and saw eyes everywhere, imagined that they were watching her. These innocent people, people she had never met … or had she? Could any of them be one of them? Could the creatures of the forest return without her knowing, ready to stalk and watch her as Aidan was now? A tremor of heat coursed through her limbs, a mix of revulsion and fear.

  She shook her head. No, she wasn’t ready to tell anyone yet. “That’s okay,” Gibbons continued, his eyes intent on her. His voice softened as he continued. “But remember, what you’re doing, being afraid like you are, you have a choice in this.”

  Cassie shook her head again, fervently this time. “I can promise you this, it’s not by my choice.”

  “Oh no, it is, Miss Harris,” he corrected. His tone was firm, almost condescending, but there was a gentleness laced throughout that Cassie couldn’t overlook.

  “What are you saying?” she asked tentatively. She thought about her next words for a moment, nervous about disclosing too much. “Do you mean I’m choosing to be in this situation? It’s not like I can help that. I can’t help being afraid.”

  “No,” Officer Gibbons agreed, looking thoughtful. “No, we can’t help the way we feel. That’s true. But our behavior, that we can control.”

  “Fine. But I’m still scared.”

  “Okay. You’re scared. But are you letting it control the way you act?”

  Cassie thought about each time Ryan asked her to join him on a hike, about each time the forest called for her. Not when Aidan did it, not when his eyes followed her and made her feel watched, but the soft call of the trees, the longing to be underneath them, surrounded again in the familiar. A feeling not unlike shame welled up when she realized that yes, her fear was controlling her.

  “So what am I supposed to do? Other than tell you what’s bothering me,” she added at his sudden look of obviousness. “Just ignore that I’m a wreck?”

  “Yep,” he answered, staring straight at her.

  “But, how?” she asked, too surprised at his answer to hide how exposed she felt.

  He shrugged. “You just do. Listen, your body, your thoughts, they are under your control. Only you. People do bad things, Miss Harris, and they always will. Sometimes, those bad things are going to happen to you. You can’t control that. All you got are your reactions.

  “There’s this big, cosmic joke out there. People love to plan for the worst, think that by preparing they can somehow avoid the bad stuff. And, I don’t know, maybe they can. But from what I’ve seen, life is going to come at you and come at you hard. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about that. Except choose how you’re gonna handle it. At the end of the day, that’s all any of us have. Choice. It always comes down to that. No matter what life throws at you, you get to choose what to do with it.”

  “So, I’m not choosing to be afraid, I’m choosing to act afraid?”

  She saw his lips twitch, almost a smile, in response. He took a long, slow sip of his soda before standing from the table.

  “Have a good night, Miss Harris,” he said, tipping his head toward her.

  “You too, Officer Gibbons.”

  “And when you’re ready to tell me,” he added, slipping a card across the table toward her. His name and number shone in embossed gold across the State Police business card. He strode to the counter and thanked the girl there, taking the pizza box she handed to him. Cassie hadn’t even heard his order called.

  Rebecca moved to sit next to her when Cassie got back to the table. “You okay?” she whispered. Cassie reached forward and caught her friend’s fingers.

  “Sure,” she whispered, squeezing Rebecca’s hand in appreciation. “Want to go for a hike tomorrow?”

  Rebecca raised her eyebrows, surprise lighting her features. “Ryan coming?”

  “I’ll text him,” Cassie answered, her resolve firming. “Jon and Samantha, too.”

  Rebecca nodded her approval and grinned at Cassie, returning to the conversation going on all around them.

  She sent the message and, on impulse, before her screen went dark, she programmed the phone number on Officer Gibbons’ card into her cell phone.

  She was afraid. Not paralyzed, but afraid. The canopy of trees overhead swayed in a gentle rhythm, fuzzy green branches weaving together, netting the sky. It was a beautiful day, warm, clear, and blue. Ryan had been thrilled when she asked him to go hiking with her. He ditched most of his camping gear and filled up his pack with enough food and drinks for the five of them to enjoy.

  Ryan drove them all in his rust-colored car, not to a section of the Appalachian Trail, which surprised Cassie, but to a nearby set of hiking paths that led to a tower at the top of a mountain. Jon and Cassie both brought backpacks. Between the three, they distributed the weight of the sizable picnic Ryan had prepared.

  The anxiety swayed and crested in Cassie’s chest, even with the jovial atmosphere of bickering and friendly teasing from her closest friends. A fierce rush of love for those that surrounded her welled up, a gratefulness that they were all willing to overlook how ridiculous and bizarre she had been acting lately and indulge her this wish of a group hike.

  Ryan was aware of how much the woods now terrified her. He had spent many hours trying to talk her past that fear. She supposed it made sense that Jon, Ryan’s best friend, knew about it, too. She was surprised when Samantha hiked up next to her, whispering words of encouragement in her ear.

  “You’re doing great,” Samantha said, squeezing Cassie’s arm before darting off ahead. She jumped on Jon’s back as soon as he took the pack off his shoulders. He cried out and nearly buckled, reaching to his back instead and pinching his girlfriend until she howled.

  “You really are,” Rebecca said, watching Jon pitch Samantha off his back and almost into the nearby stream. The blond staggered but caught her balance, cheering for herself with her arms in the air. Jon mock charged at her, grinning madly. “I bet that water’s freezing. Jon, be careful!”

  “I didn’t realize I had been so obvious,” Cassie said, lowering her own pack to get a bottle of water. She offered it to Rebecca first. Her friend took a swallow before handing it back.

  “Oh, you totally are,” she said, grinning at Cassie. “That and Ryan has been so mopey lately, missing his best hiking buddy. We could all tell.”

  Cassie looked over at her boyfriend, waiting patiently for everyone to get a drink. He was glowing. His skin was lit with a healthy rush of blood, his eyes bright and fervent under his soft, brown hair. Even his stance, confident and sure, the ease with which he carried his backpack, how comfortable he looked in his hiking gear and flannel shirt. Suddenly the vision she had once had of him, sweating and glorious with a full beard and lit eyes, both of them taking a break on their thru-hike to grab a bite to eat in a local town they would have never gone to otherwise, flared to li
fe. The thought was like an illuminated beacon in her mind, a force that quieted all her anxieties and fears. The name Aidan was a whisper at the back of her skull; there, but quiet and contained, where it could do no damage. A rush of longing seared her chest. She decided in that moment, she’d see Ryan like that someday.

  It wasn’t a difficult hike, Cassie and Ryan had certainly done more challenging routes while working on the Appalachian Trail. Rebecca kept up easily, so did Jon. Samantha was out of breath quickly, though she tried to hide it. Her words were short and breathy as they neared the top, mostly responses to Jon teasing her for being out of shape.

  The trees meshed over the sky, breaking patterns into the sparse clouds that had gathered beyond. A cliff face jutted up along the path beside them, steep and jagged, with moss growing in the crevices. In one of the larger fissures, a tiny oak had sprung up. Cassie wondered if it would flourish. Would the sapling grow, split the rock in search of fruitful soil? Or would the rock prove too strong, killing the tree at the root and leaving a lifeless husk forever crammed into the crevice? Hard to tell. The trail bent up and around the small cliff, near enough for Cassie to reach out and brush her fingers against the tiny oak that seemed bent on defying the odds. She fingered a small, budding leaf, before ripping it off the branch. It was dewy in her fingers as she tore the new leaf into tiny pieces, feeling sympathy for the rock who didn’t ask for this invasive life to take root and force its growth upon the unwelcoming surface. An irrational anger built up in her, one she tried to tamp down.

  “Oh, wow!” Samantha called out, gasping a bit at the end.

  The tower reared up through the canopy of trees. At one moment, nothing was there. Then, as the group climbed around and to the top of the small cliff, it appeared above them. It was a circular tower, like something out of a fairytale. Cassie looked to the highest window, finding that she wouldn’t be surprised if Rapunzel appeared, her golden hair spinning down the side of the rock wall.

  Samantha took off ahead of the group, pushing past Jon to get a better look.