You will be mine, p.22

You Will Be Mine, page 22

 part  #2 of  The Cellar Series


You Will Be Mine

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  He smirked and rolled his eyes--his here she goes again look. It used to annoy him at first, but now I think it just amused him. "You know I can see you in the mirror, right?" I said, glaring at his reflection.

  "You look beautiful. As always," he replied. "Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off tonight?"

  I sighed. This again. The club where the gig was being held was barely a two-minute walk from my house. It was a walk that I had done so many times I could make it there blindfolded. "No thanks. I'm fine walking. What time are you leaving?"

  He shrugged and pursed his lips. I loved it when he did that. "Whenever your lazy brother's ready. Are you sure? We can give you a lift on the way."

  "It's fine, seriously! I'm leaving right now, and if you're waiting for Henry to get ready, you'll be a while."

  "You shouldn't walk alone at night, Sum."

  I sighed again, deeper, and slammed my brush down on the wooden dresser. "Lewis, I've been walking around on my own for years. I used to walk to and from school every day, and I'll do it again next year. These"--I slapped my legs for emphasis--"work perfectly fine."

  His eyes trailed down to my legs and lit up. "Hmm, I can see that."

  Grinning, I pushed him back on the bed and sat on his lap. "Can you take your overprotective boyfriend hat off and kiss me?" Lewis chuckled, and his blue eyes lit up as his lips met mine.

  Even after eighteen months, his kisses still made my heart skip a beat. I started liking him when I was eleven. He would come home with Henry after football practice every week while his mum was at work. I thought it was just a silly crush--like the one I also had on Usher at the time--and didn't think anything of it. But when he still gave me butterflies four years later, I knew it had to be something more.

  "You two are disgusting." I jumped back at the sound of my brother's deep, annoying voice.

  I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, Henry."

  "Shut up, Summer," he shot back.

  "It's impossible to believe you're eighteen."

  "Shut up, Summer," he repeated.

  "Whatever. I'm going," I said and pushed myself off Lewis. I gave him one last kiss and slipped out of the room.

  "Idiot," Henry muttered. Immature idiot, I thought. We did get along--sometimes--and he was the best big brother I could ask for, but he drove me crazy. I had no doubt we would bicker until we died.

  "Summer, are you now leaving?" Mum called from the kitchen. No, I'm walking out the door for fun!


  "Sweetheart, be careful," Dad said.

  "I will. Bye," I replied quickly and walked out the door before they could stop me. They still treated me like I was in elementary school and couldn't go out alone. Our town was probably--actually definitely--the most boring place on earth; nothing even remotely interesting ever happened.

  The most excitement we'd ever had was two years ago when old Mrs. Hellmann--yeah, like the mayonnaise--went missing and was found hours later wondering the sheep field looking for her late husband. The whole town was looking for her. I still remember the buzz of something finally happening.

  I started walking along the familiar pavement toward the pathway next to the graveyard. That was the only part of walking alone that I didn't like. Graveyards. They were scary--fact--and especially when you were alone. I subtly glanced around while I walked along the footpath. I felt uneasy, even after passing the graveyard. We had moved to this neighborhood when I was five, and I had always felt safe here. My childhood had been spent playing out in the street with my friends, and as I got older, I hung out at the park or club. I knew this town and the people in it like the back of my hand, but the graveyard always creeped me out.

  I pulled my jacket tightly around myself and picked up the pace. The club was almost in view, just around the next corner. I glanced over my shoulder again and gasped as a dark figure stepped out from behind a hedge.

  "Sorry, dear, did I frighten you?"

  I sighed in relief as old Harold Dane came into view. I shook my head. "I'm fine."

  He lifted up a heavy-looking black bag and threw it into his garbage can with a deep grunt as if he had been lifting weights. His skinny frame was covered in wrinkled, saggy skin. He looked like he'd snap in half if he bent over. "Are you going to the disco?"

  I grinned at choice of word. Disco. Ha! That's probably what they called it back when he was a teenager. "Yep. I'm meeting my friends there."

  "Well, you have a good night, but watch your drinks. You don't know what the boys today slip in pretty young girls' drinks," he warned, shaking his head as if it were the scandal of the year and every teenage boy was out to date-rape everyone.

  Laughing, I raised my hand and waved. "I'll be careful. Night."

  "Good night, dear."

  The club was visible from Harold's house, and I relaxed as I approached the entrance. My family and Lewis had made me jumpy; it was ridiculous. As I got to the door, my friend Kerri grabbed my arm from beside me, making me jump. She laughed, her eyes alight with humor. Hilarious. "Sorry. Have you seen Rachel?"

  My heart slowed to its normal pace as my brain processed my friend's face and not the face of the Scream dude or Freddy Kruger. "Not seen anyone. Just got here."

  "Damn it. She ran off after another argument with the idiot, and her phone's turned off!" Ah, the idiot. Rachel had a very on/off relationship with her boyfriend, Jack. I never understood that--if you pissed each other off 90 percent of the time, then just call it a day. "We should find her."

  Why? I had hoped for a fun evening with friends, not chasing after a girl who should have just dumped her loser boyfriend's arse already. Sighing, I resigned myself to the inevitable. "Okay, which direction did she go?"

  Kerri gave me a flat look. "If I knew that, Summer..."

  Rolling my eyes, I pulled her hand, and we started walking back toward the road. "Fine. I'll go left, you go right." Kerri saluted and marched off to the right. I laughed at her and then went my way. Rachel had better be close.

  I walked across the middle of the playing field near the club, heading toward the gate at the back to see if she had taken the shortcut through to her house. The air turned colder, and I rubbed my arms. Kerri said Rachel's phone was off, but I tried calling it anyway and, of course, it went straight to voice mail. If she didn't want to speak to anyone, then why were we trying to find her?

  I left an awkward message on her phone--I hated leaving messages--and walked through the gate toward the skate ramp at the back of the park. The clouds shifted, creating a gray swirling effect across the sky. It looked moody, creepy but pretty at the same times. A light, cool breeze whipped across my face, making my light honey-blond hair--according to hairdresser wannabe Rachel--blow in my face and a shudder ripple through my body.

  "Lily?" a deep voice called from behind me. I didn't recognize it. I spun around and backed up as a tall, dark-haired man stepped into view. My stomach dropped. Had he been hiding between the trees? What the heck? He was close enough that I could see the satisfied grin on his face and neat hair not affected by the wind. How much hairspray must he have used? If I weren't freaked out, I would have asked what product he used because my hair never played fair. "Lily," he repeated.

  "No. Sorry." Gulping, I took another step back and scanned the area in the vain hope that one of my friends would be nearby. "I'm not Lily," I mumbled, straightening my back and looking up at him in an attempt to appear confident. He towered over me, glaring down at me with creepily dark eyes.

  He shook his head. "No. You are Lily."

  "I'm Summer. You have the wrong person." You utter freak!

  I could hear my pulse crashing in my ears. How stupid to give him my real name. He continued to stare at me, smiling. It made me feel sick. Why did he think I was Lily? I hoped that I just looked like his daughter or something and he wasn't some crazy weirdo.

  I took another step back and searched around to find a place that I could escape if needed. The park was big, and I was still near the back
, just in front of the trees. There was no way anyone would be able to see me from here. That thought alone made my eyes sting. Why did I come here alone? I wanted to scream at myself for being so stupid.

  "You are Lily," he repeated.

  Before I could blink, he threw his arms forward and grabbed me. I tried to shout, but he clasped his hand over my mouth, muffling my screams. What the heck was he doing? I thrashed my arms, frantically trying to get out of his grip. Oh God, he's going to kill me. Tears poured from my eyes. My heart raced. My fingertips tingled and my stomach knotted with fear. I'm going to die. He's going to kill me.

  The Lily man pulled me toward him with such force the air left my lungs in a rush as I slammed against him. He spun me around so my back pressed tightly against his chest. And with his hand sealed over my mouth and nose, I struggled to breathe. I couldn't move, and I didn't know if it was because he had such a strong iron grip or if I was too stunned. He had me, and he could do whatever he wanted because I couldn't bloody move a muscle.

  He pushed me through the gate at the back of the park and then through the field. I tried again to scream for help, but against his palm, I hardly made a sound. He whispered "Lily" over and over while he dragged me toward a white van. I watched trees pass me by and birds fly over us, landing on branches. Everything carried on as normal. Oh God, I needed to get away now. I dug my feet into the ground and screamed so hard that my throat instantly started to hurt. It was useless, though; no one was around to hear me but the birds.

  He tugged his arm back, pressing it into my stomach. I cried out in pain. As soon as he let go to open the van's back door, I screamed for help. "Shut up!" he shouted as he pushed me inside the vehicle. My head smashed into the side of the van while I struggled.

  "Please let me go. Please. I'm not Lily. Please."

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  Natasha Preston, You Will Be Mine

  (Series: The Cellar # 2)




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