Charade (Heven and Hell #2)(15)
Author: Cambria Hebert

He found me a few moments later in the family room, making up the couch. “Heven.”

I ignored him and continued to punch the pillow into a white case.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing it from my hands.

“You had no right,” I said, hating the tremor in my voice.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m such an ass.” He scrubbed a hand down his face.

“I’m in love with Sam.”

“I know. I know,” he whispered. “You already said that.” He tossed the pillow onto the couch.

“I’m going upstairs. I’ll see you in the morning?” I wanted to run to my room and hide.

“Yeah, okay.” When I turned away, he grabbed my hand. “Heven, I’m really sorry. I don’t want to mess up our friendship.”

I sighed. “It’s all right, Cole.” He hugged me and I let him. When I pulled back, he threw himself down on the couch. On my way out of the room, I noticed that the blinds were still open and went to close them. I looked out into the dark and an eerie feeling of being watched ran up my spine. I pulled them down and took off upstairs, heart pounding.

Once there, I shut the door and sagged against it. Some movement across the room caught my eye and had me straightening in defense.

“It’s just me,” Sam said, standing up from the bed.

“Sam.” I pressed a hand to my chest. “You scared me.”

“It was probably hard to hear me come in when you were downstairs with Cole.”

Had he seen Cole kiss me? My hands were shaking and I felt sick. How did everything get so messed up? I made a sound in the back of my throat.

“What’s going on, Heven? I thought you weren’t going to tell him anything. What’s he doing here?”

What on earth was I going to say?

Sam

I parked my truck and climbed out, locking the door and stuffing the keys into my pocket. I didn’t really think anyone would bother it out here at the edge of Gran’s property, practically hidden among the trees and bushes, but I locked it anyway—out of habit I guess. Protecting what was mine seemed to be ingrained in me. It wasn’t something that I could turn off; it was automatic, just like breathing. I wondered how I had gotten this way. Well, I knew how, but when had it become a part of me? It must have been a gradual change, happening slowly over time until it became all I knew.

I walked through the dark, wondering if Heven was asleep by now. I was late, a lot later than I wanted to be, but Logan needed me. Maybe I should have stayed with him like I did the other night but… I really wanted, no needed, a break. He had another one of his “fits,” as I had come to think of them, again tonight. It was really hard to watch—to not be able to do anything about. For someone who was decidedly protective, not being able to protect my own brother was driving me crazy.

But how do you protect someone from themself?

The night had started out fine. We grabbed some burgers and fries for dinner, rented the new Transformer’s movie and went to our place. I didn’t turn the movie on right away; for some reason, sitting in front of the TV while we ate bothered me. I worked so much and spent a lot of time with Heven. The time that I did have for Logan, I didn’t want to spend it with us watching TV and not talking. A memory of my brother and I sitting around the dinner table with Mom and Dad flashed into my head. She never let us watch TV during dinner. She made us turn everything off because it was family time. I guess I learned that from her. Man, it used to make me so mad. I smiled at the memory. “Why?” I would whine, mad that I couldn’t watch whatever the latest cartoon was.

“Because I want to hear all about your day. Because I like to see my son’s faces.”

I brushed away the memory when my chest began to feel tight. Those times were over. But Logan was really struggling to adapt to his new life and I wanted to attempt to give him some kind of normal.

“So I was thinking we could go out to the woods that border the farm this weekend,” I told him, tentatively. We wouldn’t ever go back to the woods that bordered Sebago Lake again, but even though it had been horrible last time, I still really felt like trying again was something that he needed to do. “Work on how to control—”

And just like that, it was like a switch inside him flipped.

“Would you give it a rest?” he said, cutting me off angrily and tossing down his half-eaten burger to glare at me.

I was momentarily stunned at his tone. Instead of getting angry, I said, “Look, I know that shifting hurts and I hate to see you that way, but it doesn’t mean that practice won’t help— make it easier.”

“I don’t care!” He shoved his coke over. The plastic lid popped off and coke and ice went rushing across the table.

I cursed and stood up. Everything was soaked. “What did you do that for?” I snagged a roll of paper towels off the counter and held them out. “Clean this up.”

He glared at me, breathing hard, ignoring my outstretched hand. “Don’t you get it?” he snapped. “I don’t want to be like you. Being a hellhound isn’t what I want.”

“I get that. I really do, Logan, but you can’t change what you are.” I tried to keep my voice level.

“You don’t get it!” he yelled, jumping up, sending the chair he was sitting in clattering to the floor. “It’s all so easy for you. You just walked away from us, from your old life without a second thought. You started a new life.”

“I did not walk away from you. They kicked me out. They told me to go. They couldn’t stand the sight of me.” My heart was pounding and anger swirled inside of me. He was blaming me. Blaming me for doing what I had to do to survive.

Logan made a sound in the back of this throat and he leaped forward and upset the table, sending it over on its side. There was a huge bang and my food and soda went everywhere, ice slid across the floor, leaving a wet trail behind it.

I lunged at him. He was strong, but I was stronger. My age and honed-hellhound abilities put me at an advantage. I shoved him up against the wall and pinned him there, taking in his wild eyes—I kept a close watch for that flame color to appear.

“Stop it,” I said low, not looking away. To my relief his eyes didn’t have any of that orange color, but they were still a little off—familiar but not. The hound in him was warring with his human side… hopefully, this time, he would win as there was no wildlife in here for him to take his aggression out on.