Kassandra Kush

Guardian Chapters 1 & 2

Posted on: May 1, 2013

Guardian

Guardian Angel,

 pure and bright,

guard me

 as I sleep tonight.

Amen.

 

Yet I hold this against you: you have lost the love you had at first. Realize how far you have fallen. Repent, and do the works you did at first.

Revelation 2:4,5

INTRODUCTION

I was always the strong one. I had to be. I did what I thought was right, and I always protected those I loved. I never really wondered about the world outside my own. Never did I think I would find someone to help me fight my battles, or that I would have my faith challenged in the strangest possible way. I didn’t know I would meet somebody extraordinary, and that my life would change, forever.

But it did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

On every side the wicked strut; the shameless are extolled by all.

Psalm 12:9

“And don’t bother coming back! I’ve never seen such worthless children in all my life!”

I held tight to Colton’s and Grace’s hands as the front door slammed closed behind us. Grace was, as always, holding back her tears with noisy sniffles. Only a seven-year-old could manage this while still looking angelic. With her halo of golden curls and glassy blue eyes, Grace always put me to mind of a china doll, every feature flawless, as though carved from ivory. A single, perfectly round tear rolled down her cheek as she wiped at her eyes. I scooped her into my arms as Colton, already an old soul at ten years of age, followed me down the sidewalk.

“Don’t worry,” I told them, much more confidently than I felt. “You know Mom and Dad always cool off after a few hours to themselves.” Yes, after a few hours of drinking together, they could never quite remember attempting to kick us out of the house. “We’ll just have to pray very hard for them tonight, won’t we?”

“It’s a good thing we’re on our way to youth group then, isn’t it, Lyla?” Colton commented, catching on and aiding my cause.

I nodded, pleased. “Exactly. We’ll just have to keep them in mind all night, isn’t that right?”

Grace and Colton, almost twins with their honeyed hair and cornflower-blue eyes, nodded in solemn agreement. Comparing me to the two of them was just like comparing night and day. I was night, my hair a dark, glossy brown with identically brown colored eyes. My skin was olive colored year round, as opposed to their porcelain complexions, and my nose and cheeks were dusted faintly with darker freckles. Perhaps it was the fact that I looked so different that had cast me in the role of guardian from our wayward parents. That, and because I was so much older. At seventeen, Grace and Colton saw me as an adult, though at times like these, I felt far from one.

“There’s going to be all kinds of food tonight, and cake and cookies,” I said, to take their minds away from the trouble at home. “It’s the kick-off for the youth group, after all. Are you excited to see all your friends?”

This set talkative Grace on a rampage about which classmates she hoped would be there, and which ones she didn’t care to see. I reminded her gently that it wasn’t nice to play favorites, and she should be nice to everyone. Colton began to put his two cents in about whom he wished would make an appearance, and the subject lasted us the whole mile and a half walk to our church, St. Rose of Lima. It was situated in downtown Columbus, our private Catholic school just across the parking lot.

I deposited Colton and Grace at the rectory, where the younger grades were having their party, and circled the church for the door to the church basement, nearly running into someone as I turned a corner. It wasn’t dark quite yet, but I still didn’t recognize the person as I stopped short and smiled at him. It was a man, tall and big, staring at the church before us.

“Hello!” I said cheerfully, sticking my hands into the pockets of the black cardigan I wore over my simple jeans and white t-shirt. “Are you here for the youth group kick-off?”

For a long moment, he didn’t move, and I wondered if he hadn’t heard me. Then his head slowly turned and he looked me in the eye. Though we stood about two pavement squares apart, I was captivated by this man’s eyes. They were a deep, clear green, ringed with unnaturally long lashes. I couldn’t say why, exactly, but his gaze struck me dumb and motionless. There was just so… much in his eyes. Though he appeared only a few years older than I, his eyes were very, very old. We stared at each other for a very long, pregnant moment, and then the man gave a small smile, and the spell was broken. I blinked several times, blinded by his straight white teeth.

“I don’t think you want my sort in there,” he said quietly. His voice rose up, deep and silky, surrounding me like the impending darkness of the night. He was dressed in well-worn dark blue jeans, with a black t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket. His short, wavy hair appeared to match in the dim light. Taking in all the black, I was put into mind of a thief. All of the sudden, his smile was menacing in my eyes, and my instincts warned me to run. Goose bumps covered my arms. I kept myself still, however, unwilling to appear rude.

“We’re open to having anyone,” I said, though my voice shook a little. “It’s just a kick-off party, and we have plenty of food to go around.”

The man gave a long, slow grin, and a chill went down my spine. Looking past his scarred leather jacket, the unkempt hair, and the too-long stubble on his jaw, he was extremely handsome, but appeared older than at first glance. Yes, he was definitely dangerous. I began to regret my decision to invite him to the party. What if he accepted?

He shook his head, still smiling, though I got the distinct impression he was inwardly laughing at me. “Thank you for your invitation, but I’ll have to decline. I think you’ll have more fun without me there.”

“If you’re sure,” I said, and walked quickly away. Behind me, I heard him laughing out loud. I didn’t care. Deep down, I was absolutely terrified. I only stopped jogging when I reached the safety of the church basement door, which was being held open by my best friend, Natalie.

“Who was that and where can I get one?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows at me.

I swatted her arm. “Oh please!”

“I’m serious!” she insisted, abandoning her post at the door to our friend, Austin. “Don’t you know that’s the guy I was telling you about at school yesterday? He’s been here all week, standing outside!”

I looked at her in surprise. “Really? That’s him? What does he do out there?”

Natalie gave a sigh of impatience. “I told you this! He was here Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday night, and now again tonight! He just stands there, staring up at the church. I don’t have the slightest clue what he’s looking at.”

I frowned, trying to think what could be so interesting about the exterior of the church. As far I knew, there were only the stained glass windows, which were various Biblical scenes of things like the Visitation, the Annunciation, and of course, depictions of the life of St. Rose of Lima.

“What did you say to him?” Natalie wanted to know. “I can’t believe you actually talked to him! I thought he was homeless, but homeless or not, he’s a hottie.”

I rolled my eyes as I checked over the tables of food and drinks. People were beginning to arrive for the party, and I wanted to be sure everything was perfect, since Natalie’s mind seemed to be elsewhere. “I just invited him to come join us for the kick-off, that’s all.”

“Get out!” Natalie cried. “What did he say?”

“He… said ‘no, thank you’,” I said, skimming over the details.

Natalie wasn’t having it, however. She planted her hands on her hips, and I knew she meant business. “Lyla Marie Evans, give me the full story, stat!”

“Full story of what?” It was Austin, who had left the door-holding post in someone else’s hands so he could join us.

“The full story of how Lyla invited that bum that’s been hanging around outside to our kick-off party!”

I rolled my eyes again – Natalie was never one to keep things to herself – and Austin’s head whipped around to look at me in alarm.

“All by yourself?” he asked, shocked. “Lyla, you shouldn’t go around talking to strangers all alone! Who knows what he could have done to you?!”

“Really, guys?” I asked. “I was standing in full view of a church, and there were people all around! He was just standing there, so I thought I would invite him in. Who knows what he’s going through?”

“Obviously nothing terrorizing enough to make him want to join us,” Natalie observed seriously.

We all laughed and turned to other matters as the subject of the strange man was forgotten. Except by me. All evening, I tried to peer out of the small upper windows of the basement, wondering if he was still there. I was mystified; why would anyone stand outside of a church for a whole week, just staring? True, many churches were beautiful, but St. Rose of Lima certainly wasn’t beautiful enough to stare at for a week straight. I sighed and tried to keep myself in the present.

 

“Pretty fun night, all in all, don’t you think?”

I looked up at Austin, giving him a pleased smile. “It did go well. And since you stayed to help me clean up, I’ll be able to get home at a decent hour. I’m glad Mrs. Mescher volunteered to drop Colton and Gracie off at home, they were dead on their feet before ten o’clock even came.” Late enough, I hoped, that my parents had either left to find other amusement or passed out.

Austin made a show of checking his watch. “A whole half-hour to spare before curfew! Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can walk,” I said quickly. I thought of what undoubtedly awaited me at home: my parents at best, gone, at worst, passed out on the couch or floor; a disaster in the kitchen for me to clean up. Hopefully, Colton and Grace safe and sound behind our locked bedroom door. I felt a trickle of unease, and wished after all that Mrs. Mescher hadn’t dropped them off for me, that I had kept them at my side where I could be assured of their safety.

“Lyla,” Austin said firmly. He put his hands on my shoulders and spoke slowly, as though I were dull. “It’s almost midnight. You live in downtown Columbus. I’m driving you. End of discussion.”

Though his authoritative manner chafed a little – I was the one used to calling all the shots – a small part of me was still relieved. It was late and dark.

“Okay, fine.” I gave Austin a smile of defeat and grabbed my cardigan. We headed up the stairs and out of the church basement, Austin waiting patiently as I locked the door before getting into his car and setting off toward home. We discussed the party, laughing over the memories of the games everyone had played and silly things people had done.

“I can’t wait to develop all the pictures,” I said. “I’ll have to make a display. I’m hoping to get an even bigger turn out at the spring dance. And maybe we can sell tickets this time to raise money for charity.”

Austin chuckled. “Do you do anything besides school, sleep, and church?” He caught my hand over the console and gave it a friendly squeeze.

I grinned at him. “Not right now. Its senior year, I need to get scholarships. And church is important to me. You know that.”

“All work and no play makes Lyla a dull girl,” Austin commented.

I glanced over at him. “What do you mean? You think I’m boring?” I teased.

The car cruised to a stop as Austin looked over at me. “What I think is that you’re hot,” he said.

I began to get a very uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach, but tried to shrug it off. I had known Austin nearly all my life, there was no reason to feel uncomfortable around him. Still, I tried to pull my hand gently out of Austin’s and pushed out a laugh that sounded forced and too high pitched. “Hot? Excuse me? Austin, you know I think that term is degrading.” The harder I tried to pull my hand away, the tighter Austin held it.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true. I’ve always thought so.” Somehow, his dim smile seemed to have transformed into a leer.

“I think it’s time for me to go,” I said firmly. The creepy crawlies were back, riding a roller coaster up and down my spine at full speed. “I’ll see you Monday at school, okay?”
I pushed the car door open and started to get out, but realized with a jolt that Austin hadn’t stopped in front of my house. No, he had parked on a narrow side street that I didn’t recognize in the gloom. An empty, deserted alley lined with brick buildings.

I wasn’t sure what the most unwise course of action was: braving the foreboding street, or staying in the car with Austin and ordering that he take me home.

“Why didn’t you take me to my house?” I demanded, half in, half out of the car, still unsure and wavering between decisions.

“I wanted a second to talk, Lyla,” Austin said. “Get back in the car, come on.”

I wasn’t sure why this felt so much more uncomfortable than the awkward scene of longtime friend attempting to declare his feelings. Maybe it was the sneering smile, or the ominous glint that kept flashing in his eyes. Perhaps it was because all Austin’s words and actions seemed incredibly foreign from the friend that I knew. Or maybe it was simply because he was trying to do it all in a dark alley in the middle of the night.

Whatever the reason, my sixth sense was screaming danger! at top volume, and I decided I was done and it was best to brave the street. “I’m going home,” I said, as forcefully as I could. I hoped he didn’t detect the traitorous tremble in my words. “I’ll see you Monday, okay? Goodnight.”

I swung out of the car and began to walk down the sidewalk at a quick clip, headed for the distant street sign that I knew would orient me. I swallowed back both annoyance and a cold thrill of fear when Austin’s door slammed and he called my name. Footsteps sounded behind me, quick ones as he jogged to catch up.

“Lyla, don’t act like this,” he pleaded, reaching for my hand to slow me down.

I jerked my hand away with such force that my body lurched to the side. I didn’t want him to touch me, not now, possibly not ever again. “Leave me alone, Austin,” I said, more sharply than I’d ever spoken to anyone. “I need some space.”

“Lyla, come on,” he said again, and this time he managed to catch my hand, and no matter how I tugged, I couldn’t slip away from him.

“Austin, let go of me!” I cried, unable to keep panic from lacing my words.

I backed away again, pulling my hand as hard as I could, but Austin advanced a step for every one that I retreated. Real panic began to pump through my veins.

“Austin, we’ve been friends since second grade, why are you acting like this?” With mounting horror, I realized I had done the worst possible thing; I’d backed up against a building, and there was nowhere left to go.

“Because I want you, Lyla,” Austin whispered, and I quivered with fear all the way down to my toes.”

“Austin, stop!” I cried, and tried to run. Instantly Austin’s arms were around me, and he pushed me up against the wall. My head connected with the bricks with a solid crack and I saw stars.

Suddenly Austin’s hands were everywhere on my body, groping my sides, my bottom, my neck, and finally my breasts. I screamed as loud as I could before Austin’s mouth cut me off, meeting my own in a sloppy kiss. I slowly began to gather my wits once more, though my head was still ringing from its collision with the wall. I started to struggle wildly, tried to scream past Austin’s lips, but had trouble gasping in enough air. My arms, which had been pushing against his chest, were grabbed and pressed tightly to my sides.

Austin finally lifted his mouth off of mine, panting. “You like it rough, huh? Won’t go down without a fight. I see. I always knew you were feisty underneath that uniform of yours.”

Before I could catch my breath and scream again, Austin moved in once more, trying to pry my lips open again, but I kept them tightly pressed together, still struggling to get away. Somehow, he captured both my arms in one hand and kept me pinned against the wall with his larger body. The other hand came up and gripped my jaw with crushing force. I whimpered in pain, knowing I would have bruises.

But there would be more if I didn’t get away soon. There would be worse than bruises. I began to wriggle, testing this new hold he had on me. But I was small and slender, while Austin topped six feet and played rough sports all year long. I felt my strength begin to ebb away, felt dangerous thoughts of giving in seep into my panicked brain. Austin’s hand finally left my aching jaw and began to roam around my body once more. I twisted away, panting with effort, knowing I should resist, knowing I couldn’t stop fighting. I fought to keep my body from going limp. I was getting tired, so tired.

Suddenly, I was jerked forward as Austin’s body was pulled violently away from my own. With the pressure of him pressing me against the wall gone so quickly, I fell to the ground in shock. It took me a moment to realize that he was gone, that I was free, and I looked up to see who had saved me.

A loud “Oomph” pulled my attention to the left of the alleyway. I gasped when I saw the shadow of Austin doubled over in pain, a stranger pummeling him in the belly. Austin whimpered and whined, and I could hear him pleading with the man to stop. As much as the proper, God-fearing part of me knew violence was wrong, I couldn’t bring myself to halt the beating. I trembled from head to toe, and I wanted some of the pain I had suffered to be experienced by Austin’s hands. Austin fell to his hands and knees, and the stranger kicked him savagely, and then with a swift uppercut to the jaw, Austin collapsed.

Or did he?

From my huddled position against the wall, I was sure I had just seen Austin fall flat, but the dark stranger was still fighting someone. Glancing at the ground, I confirmed that, indeed, Austin’s blonde hair shone in the slight moonlight that entered the alley. Had there been a second person with Austin? Had someone else been following us, or heard the commotion? Or was my rescuer not really saving me at all, but fighting for the right to have his turn with me? A dozen thoughts raced through my head, all in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly the building I was backed up against shuddered violently, and I looked up to see my supposed rescuer jumping out from a large crevice in the brick. The huge crack was a good five feet up from the ground, as though someone had thrown him into the side of the building. I gaped, watching him run back to the third person who had taken over Austin’s place in the fight. Now that I was watching, I saw that this fight was nothing like when Austin had stood passively and allowed himself to be beaten and defeated. These two moved with supernatural speed, shadows in the dim light, darting in for a kick or punch, the other moving so fast they nearly always missed. They performed a flawless dance, just missing each other each time. I could easily pick which shadow was the one who had beaten Austin; he was much taller and bulkier than his opponent, who seemed to have grown shorter and more hunched since his arrival.

But how could I trust my own eyes? Not when it seemed that these two were bouncing off the sides of buildings, jumping easily up onto dumpsters with one leap, and leaving cracks in solid brick structures without seeming to get harmed themselves. I felt hazy, as though I was drifting in and out of sleep. When another loud BOOM echoed through the night, it was like a wakeup call. Bits of brick and mortar dust sprinkled down onto my head, and then something fell before my feet with a sickening thud.

I screamed and attempted to back up closer to the wall, but the figure made no movement. In fact, it began to grow smaller and smaller, until it no longer bore any resemblance to a human being at all. I watched in horrified fascination as the little horned creature in front of me hissed and steamed, turning into a puddle and melting right down through the pavement. After just half a minute, there was no trace of anyone or anything on the ground before my feet. I gaped in wonder and fear. Then footsteps distracted me, and I saw my rescuer coming toward me. I gave a squeal of fright and scooted backward on my bottom again, only to hit the brick wall as I had before. Trapped.

“Shh, shh, Lyla, it’s all right. You’re safe.” The man continued forward, slowly but steadily.

I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he knew my name, or the fact that I recognized his smoky, silky voice, but I relaxed fractionally. It was the man who had been standing outside the church before the youth party. He didn’t seem half so threatening to me now, despite the fact he had just beaten Austin, and a mysterious something, into submission.

I squinted, trying to make sense of my muddled, hazy thoughts. Was it just my imagination, or was this stranger glowing around the edges? I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to clear the fuzziness from the edges of my vision. When I opened them once more, the man was crouched right in front of me, and I couldn’t deny that he emanated a slight white light. A terrible fear that I was going blind, that somehow, Austin had affected my sight when he had slammed my head against the wall, ran through me, made my breath catch.

“Lyla? Did he hurt you? Does anything hurt very badly?”

His soft voice made me feel even sleepier, and a little less panicked. I struggled to make sense of what he was asking. When had my brain decided to shut off?

“Lyla!” This time his voice was a little sharper, more impatient. “Did he hurt you?”

“N-no,” I finally said. “Just some buh-bruises, I think.”

“Come on, let’s get you home,” he muttered, and before I could guess what he meant to do, I found myself swung upward by the strongest arms I ever could have imagined. Holding me seemed to be completely effortless, as though I were a feather pillow. Around me, the world seemed to blur as he started walking, going faster than I ever could have. The exhaustion I had been fighting off now seemed to overwhelm me, and I felt my eyes closing of their own accord. I wasn’t strong enough to keep myself awake, and so, I let myself fall into the blissful darkness.

 

“Does this mean we don’t have to go to church today?”

“No, silly, you know Lyla would never miss church. She has to get up in time!”

“But he said she needed to rest!”

I groaned and rolled over, only to be stopped mid-roll by the two small bodies whose talking was disturbing my sleep.

“See?” Colton said triumphantly. “She’s alive and about to wake up!”

I cracked one eye open, meeting four smaller blue ones. “What are you two arguing about?” I asked in a sleep-hoarse voice.

Grace regarded me seriously. “It’s ten forty-five and we were deciding if you wanted to go to church today or sleep.”

“Ten forty-five?!” I yelped, tossing back the covers and jumping from my bed. I never slept past eight, never. Mass started at eleven thirty, and we had a twenty minute walk to boot! A sudden aching sensation in my arms and back stopped my mad dash, and I looked down, confused. Only when I saw the bruises around both my arms in the shape of a perfect handprint did the memories come flooding back; Austin driving me home, attacking me, and my rescuer saving me. I turned slowly to Grace and Colton. “Colton, who brought me home last night?” I asked carefully.

Colton’s face screwed up. “Some man I’d never seen before. I opened the door ‘cause I was getting a midnight snack and heard him knocking. Grace came too. I know we’re not supposed to open the door to strangers, but he was carrying you, so I did it anyway. He was big, bigger than Dad. Grace almost started crying because she thought you were dead.”

“Did not!” Grace hollered.

“Did too!” Colton shouted back.

“Hey, hey now!” I said, standing between them. “No fighting, please! Colton, just finish the story.”

“The man told us you weren’t dead, you were just really, really tired from helping at the party. We showed him where your bed was and he laid you down. We let him out the front door, and by the time we looked out the window to see him leave, he was already gone!”

“His name?” I asked urgently. “Did you ask him what his name was?”

Grace looked at me curiously. “Isn’t he your friend? Don’t you know his name already?”

I shook my head. “He . . . was a new friend. So new I don’t even know his name.”

“Gracie asked what his name was,” Colton said, pleased with his all-knowingness. “You know how nosy she is. What was it, Gracie? I forgot.”

“Rafael,” Grace supplied helpfully. “He said his name was Rafael.”

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

When you stand to pray, forgive anyone against who you have a grievance, so that your heavenly Father may in turn forgive you your transgressions.

Mark 11:25

 

The next day, Monday, I slowly pulled my blue and green plaid jumper over my freshly ironed white shirt. Luckily, I had both long and short sleeved shirts, and though I would look a little ridiculous wearing a long sleeved shirt on a warm September day, it was more important that I hide the handprint bruises that were on both my arms.

The good news was, they were no longer causing me any pain. I bruised easily, but healed quickly. Long sleeves in warm weather were a usual occurrence for Lyla Evans. To me, it was more important that I block Colton and Grace from any physical harm from our parents; bruises were more likely to be found on their fragile little bodies, and the questions asked would get us nowhere. I had already tried to get out. There was no escape.

I gently rolled Colton and Grace out of bed, sitting them up and gently pulling a comb through their tousled locks as they rubbed sleep from their eyes. When I was finished, they groggily tumbled into the clothes I had laid out for them on my bed. Soon I had a twin in Grace, with our matching uniforms, and Colton looked older than his ten years in his pressed navy pants and white polo.

Grace pulled on my knee socks for me, and I assisted her with her own (the only compromise she would make in order to put the darned things on), and then we all picked up our shoes and tip-toed past our father, who was snoring loudly on the living room couch, which adjoined the kitchen and dining room. I had already filled three bowls with corn flakes in the kitchen; I snatched the stack of them on the way out, and the three of us sat on the front stoop of our sagging house and ate our breakfast.

“Sorry there isn’t any milk, guys,” I said apologetically over the sounds of small mouths crunching dry cereal. “I’ll stop by the store sometime this week.”

Colton and Grace both made noncommittal noises as they finished eating, and after chiding Colton for slurping his orange juice too noisily, we left for school. It was a familiar routine, one I had been doing for as long back as I could remember; since I was old enough to realize that our parents were parents in name, not deed, and that I needed to be strong and mature quickly to keep my siblings – and myself – safe and whole. Colton and Grace both grabbed for my hands without reminders when we crossed streets, and Grace still got a little teary on bad days and clung to my legs, begging me not to leave her in the classroom. Grace and Colton both saw and treated me as their mother, and my instincts toward them were much more maternal then sisterly.

That day I walked them to their classes as always before showing up in my homeroom, sitting down in the half empty classroom to check over my homework from the weekend. I could only see one way out of my situation, and that was scholarships and our community college, Columbus State. It was close, no farther in walking distance than my high school or church, and tuition was notoriously inexpensive. I could finally land some kind of steady job, live at home with Colton and Grace, and study as hard as I could to fly through an associate’s degree so I would be qualified for something that paid more highly than just minimum wage.

The plan wasn’t ideal, it wasn’t rock solid, and I didn’t want to go to school for something that I wouldn’t truly enjoy. But the important thing was being able to provide steadily for Colton and Grace. When they were a little older and had jobs of their own, maybe I could pursue my dreams of becoming a doctor; I liked the idea of helping others.

I had just struggled through checking all my calculus problems when there was a clatter and the tornado I liked to call my best friend settled into the desk next to mine.

“I swear,” Natalie groaned, sticking her head into her backpack and trying to rearrange the books inside, “my mom needs to realize that laundry should be done before eight o’clock on Monday morning. ‘Oh I’m sorry honey’,” she mocked in a high pitched voice. “’I just totally forgot about it all weekend. Just wear a t-shirt!’ Look at me! It’ll be a miracle if Sister Elizabeth doesn’t write me up!”

I looked at the white T-shirt Natalie had on, instead of the appropriate button down/collared shirts stated in the uniform guidelines. I wished my biggest problem was wearing the wrong shirt to school. “Your cardigan totally covers it. Sister Elizabeth will never notice,” I assured her.

Natalie scowled ferociously. “She better not. Detention is so boring! And I can’t get one so early in the school year, Dad will have my head.”

I shook my head. Natalie didn’t need her mother’s aid in getting detentions for failure to dress – she had a couple a year for refusing to follow the dress code perfectly. “Start doing your own laundry,” I suggested to her, as I always did.

Natalie laughed as though this was the most ridiculous thought in the world. “So, can you still come over tonight to study for that American history quiz tomorrow? I don’t think I can pass without your help. You can stay for dinner, and Colton and Grace too, of course. Matt promised to keep them entertained, and Mom promised to make a huge batch of spaghetti and her secret sauce.”

“I don’t know…” I said, trailing off. I still felt a little bit unsettled by the attack from Austin and my mysterious rescuer.

“Oh, please!” Natalie cried. The room around us was starting to get noisier as more people entered. The bell would ring in just two minutes. “I’ll even let you take home the leftovers. Every drop of sauce, cross my heart.” She did so, giving me a pleading look.

The sauce was always delicious, and I felt myself wavering. It wasn’t often Colton, Grace, and I got to sit down to a real family dinner, even if that family wasn’t our own. And I never turned down leftovers. We didn’t starve, but we didn’t always get to exactly eat our fill of home cooked meals.

Seeing me on the brink of making a decision, Natalie grinned again. “I’ll throw in the leftover meatballs too. Final offer.”

I smiled back. “All right, it’s a deal. What time?”

“Six o’clock will be perfect. We can eat first,” Natalie decided, as the bell rang and everyone scrambled for their appropriate seats. I resigned myself to another boring, if normal, day. But I had forgotten just one element.

Austin.

I didn’t run into him until after lunch, by which time I was pretty much back to my normal self. Surrounded by the boring familiarity of school, friends, and teachers, I could hardly hold on to my weird mood and confusion for very long. Curiosity over this Rafael person was crowded away with information about calculus, American history, Latin, and essays. It was tradition for Austin to meet me outside the lunch room, so we could walk to our AP Biology class together. Today, it appeared, was no exception. I had no sooner disposed of my trash and exited the cafeteria when I almost ran straight into him.

“Hey!” he said brightly, looking the same as always, unfailingly cheerful and weighed down with the same stack of AP textbooks as I was. “What’s up? How was your weekend?”

For a moment I could only stare up at him in utter shock. Then I ducked my head and began walking quickly to our classroom.

“Hey, Lyla, wait up!” I heard him call. I only walked faster. How could he even speak to me after what had happened?

But Austin’s height and longer legs won the day, and he caught up to me easily. “Lyla, what’s wrong? Did I do something?” he asked.

The worry in his voice made me stop to face him. He sounded genuinely… confused. “Do you honestly not know?” I asked sharply, unable to keep some sarcasm from my voice.

Austin’s blue eyes were bright with concern and desperation. “I have no idea,” he said, his voice low with frustration. “Come on, Lyla, we’ve been friends forever, what’s wrong?”

“You-” I began, unsure of exactly what to say, but he cut me off.

“Wait, wait. Is this because of Saturday night? Is that it?”

“Um, yeah?!” I could barely keep my voice down. All around us, people rushed to class, pushing past us, concerned with their own problems.

“Look, Lyla, I would have driven you home, I really would have, but I don’t even know what happened! One minute I was leaving the church with you and telling you goodbye, and the next I was home in bed, waking up on Sunday. I’m sorry, I know it was rude, and I should have made sure you got home safe.”

I shook my head, confused. “What are you talking about? You took me home.”

Austin seemed just as confused as I was. “I know I stayed to help you clean up, Lyla, but, then I just remember telling you goodbye and being at home. I woke up with a monster headache and, and I’m just really sorry, okay? Please, just tell me what to do to make this better.”

I stared at him in amazement. He didn’t remember. He really seemed to have no recollection of what had happened – the fight, the strange Rafael person, trying to attack me – he had no idea. And how could I really be mad at him if he didn’t remember what he had done? I peered into his eyes, but they were innocent, guileless. I didn’t believe Austin had it in him to lie about something like this.

“You know what?” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, not as though I was unnerved or still massively confused. “Don’t worry about it, Austin. I’ve just, I’ve had a kind of crummy day is all. Did you understand this bio homework? I couldn’t figure it out to save my life.”

“Lyla? Confused?” Austin laughed as he held the door of the classroom open for me. “Looks like we’re all in trouble then.”

And just like that, it seemed everything was back to normal with Austin.

 

To say I was confused about what had happened would be a vast, enormous, gargantuan understatement. I was baffled. I was clueless. I was frustrated. All I wanted to do was find this Rafael man and shake some answers out of him. But even more than that, I wanted to thank him for what he had done. It had taken a lot of bravery to save me the way he had; and then to take me home afterward. And to reassure Colton and Grace, well, that told me that this stranger, no matter who or what he was, had a heart. It was against my nature to let something like this go without expressing my thanks. Though I gave up on the idea ever being able to track this man down, I got my chance eventually.

Two days later, I was just thinking that it was utterly useless to tell Colton not to slide down the railing of the outdoor church stairs – he did it every time we left the building, regardless of what I said – when I stopped so suddenly that I nearly pulled little Gracie off the large stone steps. He stood across the street from the church, not looking at me, as I would have expected. Or maybe hoped, I wasn’t sure. No, Rafael (if that was his name), stood with his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket staring up at all the magnificent stained glass windows of St. Rose of Lima parish. I frowned, taking all the steps in a split second and looking up at all the windows as well. I couldn’t detect anything abnormal about the scenes depicted; the Annunciation, the Visitation, Michael the Archangel, several scenes from the life of St. Rose of Lima.

“Stay here a moment,” I told Colton and Grace. “I have to talk to someone.” Used to this kind of request, Colton and Grace waved me away as they found a few friends.

After looking back to make sure Colton and Grace were being watched by a group of doting mothers, I jogged across the street through the light Sunday traffic, but my steps slowed as I neared Rafael. It was suddenly occurring to me that just because he had saved me that night didn’t necessarily mean he was a good and safe person. I threw my shoulders back and jutted out my chin. Thanking him was the right thing to do, and it was broad daylight. I was perfectly safe.

“Ex-excuse me?” My voice wavered, and I inwardly cringed. I didn’t want him to think I was a wimp.

At the sound of my voice, he turned around sharply, as though he was expecting to see a threat. His stance relaxed considerably when he saw it was just me. Something was different about him though, and it took me a moment to realize what it was; he was cleaner.  His face was smooth from stubble, his hair had even been trimmed. His clothes, though still considerably worn from age and use, looked as though they had been washed. But I was captivated once again by his eyes alone. They were the most unique color I’d ever seen, a deep green interwoven with flecks of violet, just barely noticeable. They were so… complex. Though he only appeared to be in his late twenties, his eyes told a different story; they made me think decades had come and gone before his gaze.

“May I help you in some way?”

I started, coming out of my little daze. His pleasant smile was still in place. It gave nothing away, pleasure or even dread at seeing me.

“Oh, yes, sorry,” I stumbled out. “Are you Rafael?”

He studied me for a long moment and then nodded slowly. “That’s me.”

“Good. Well, my name is Lyla Evans. You, um, saved me last weekend.” I extended my hand to shake, but Rafael just looked at it. I slowly lowered it, clasping both my arms behind my back. “Anyway, after what you did that night, after saving me, well, I just wanted to thank you. Not a lot of people would have stepped in the way you did and-”

“Look, lady,” he began.

“Lyla,” I corrected him quickly. “My name is Lyla.”

“All right, Lyla. Don’t turn me into some kind of hero or knight-in-shining-armor or superman. I was out hunting and your boyfriend happened to have my quarry. Don’t be too harsh on him, either. I doubt he’ll remember a whole lot of what happened. After effects.”

I stared at him. “Beg your pardon?” I finally settled for saying.

Rafael shifted from foot to foot. “I was doing my own job, and helping you just happened to coincide with that, all right?”

I held up my hands, startled by his hostility. “Hey, I’m not trying to freak you out or, or start stalking you or whatever it is you think I’m doing. You saved me, and I just wanted to thank you. That’s all.”

Rafael appeared to mull this over. “You’re welcome,” he finally conceded. The tone in his voice was that of giving someone a gift with their words alone.

I hesitated, then, “Are you sure you won’t join us for youth group this weekend? It’s movie night. We’ll have food.”

He gave me a whimsical grin, the one where it seemed he found a private joke within my words, one only he understood. “I’m sure. You don’t want my sort mixed in with yours, Lyla Evans.”

“We aren’t-” I began, but to my absolute astonishment, he walked away from me without a second glance. I stood there, in shock, wondering exactly who this Rafael person thought he was.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow me on Twitter

Playin with bae 😍🤗🐶
-
-
-
#dogsofinsta #dogs #dogsofinstagram #dogsofinstaworld #playball Did somebody say..."walk"? 🐶
-
-
-
#dogsofinsta #dogs #dogsofinstagram #dogsofinstaworld #blacklab #phineas

Guardian Blurb

Lyla Evans just wants to be left alone; to fly under the radar and not attract attention. After seventeen years, she knows how the game is played. Her parents are hardly ever home, and when they do show up, they’re quick to anger and even quicker with their fists. With foster care comes the threat of being separated from her two younger siblings, and Lyla would die before allowing that to happen. She’s learned to keep her head down and depend on no one but herself and God to get by.

When a strange man starts paying too much attention to her and her siblings, showing up to rescue them and then disappearing without a trace, Lyla begins to panic that everything she’s been hiding is about to come out. But as she slowly becomes friends with Rafael and even trusts him with her deepest fears, Lyla learns he has secrets far bigger than her own that will turn everything in her world upside down.

In this story of abuse and rescue, love and faith, angels and demons, an unlikely friendship grows into a fantastical love story appealing and appropriate for readers young and old alike.

Categories

Found Between the Covers

All things bookish!

COSBY'S CORNER

Home of Dr. Braxton Cosby A.K.A. "The Fat Doc"

Contemplating Love

My Roaring Twenties

Yamaha RX 100, Yamaha RX 100 History, Reviews

Yamaha RX 100 the legend in Indian roads.Yamaha RX 100 was one of the successors from Yamaha.Yamaha rx100 History, Yamaha rx 100 Reviews, Kerala, India.

UtopYA Con

The Con for Women Writers of YA and the Fans Who Love Them

10mh.net

Ten Million Hardbacks

mancakes..the blog

...SYRUP ON THE SIDE.

kylethegirl

FLUFF TO BUFF

alyshamichelle

Rantings and Ravings

Reading with Analysis

Reading without reflecting is like eating without digesting - Edmund Burke

The Girls in Plaid Skirts

Bibliophiles and Spies

Pray, Madam, are you a Millennial?

the question, to be sure, was strange

utopYA con

for female writers of paranormal fantasy & the readers who love them

Daily (w)rite

A DAILY RITUAL OF WRITING

Diplomatic Dog

Ramblications of a hairy pudding

Backstage Pass

My name is Matt Syverson, and I write rock-n-roll themed novels. I was in a grunge band in Seattle in the 90's. Now I live in Texas. Links to my books are at the bottom of the page. Thanks for visiting!

The Millennium Conjectures™

A Blog of the Ridiculous and Sublime, by Mark Sackler

%d bloggers like this: