Online Read Free Novel
  • Home
  • Romance & Love
  • Fantasy
  • Science Fiction
  • Mystery & Detective
  • Thrillers & Crime
  • Actions & Adventure
  • History & Fiction
  • Horror
  • Western
  • Humor

    Starcrossed

    Page 8
    Prev Next


      hadn’t. He’d even fought someone else to save her. Helen had no

      doubt he wanted to kill her, but the fact remained that he’d never

      even raised his hand to her. If he’d hurt her at all it was because he

      had been defending himself from her abuse.

      Helen switched off her computer and went downstairs to look for

      her dad. When she couldn’t find him she went out to the car and

      grabbed her cell phone off the passenger seat. Jerry had left her a

      text saying that he was still at Kate’s. Helen looked at the time—it

      was 3:00 p.m. What could he possibly still be doing? A fantastic,

      although slightly nauseating, idea occurred to Helen.

      It would make sense for the two of them to hook up, she

      reasoned. They made each other laugh, they worked well together,

      and they obviously cared about each other. Kate was definitely a

      few years younger and could probably get any guy she wanted, but

      Helen didn’t think she’d ever find a better man than her father.

      67/395

      And Jerry definitely deserved a fresh start. He’d been treated horribly

      by Helen’s mother and he’d never gotten over her, which

      ticked Helen off to no end.

      She rubbed the charm on her necklace. For the hundredth time

      she considered taking the wretched thing off, but she knew she

      wouldn’t. Every time she’d tried to go without wearing it she obsessed

      over it, unable to stop picturing it in her head. Eventually,

      she’d give in and put it back on in order to regain some mental

      peace and quiet. She realized that this probably meant she had

      some serious mommy issues, but compared to all the other things

      that were wrong with her, that was the least of her problems. An

      image of Lucas’s face hovering over hers in the dark, his eyes

      scrunched tight, popped into her head. She had to think up a task

      to distract herself before she started throwing things, so she decided

      to go grocery shopping.

      Helen’s official term as kitchen slave—a system of alternating

      weeks that had started as soon as she was old enough to

      cook—began on Sunday morning, but there was nothing in the

      house for them to eat that night. She made a list, took the housekeeping

      cash out of the cookie-less cookie jar, and drove Kate’s car

      to the market. In the parking lot she saw a gigantic luxury SUV and

      shook her head disapprovingly at it. There were a lot of disgustingly

      rich people on the island who drove vehicles that were too big

      for the old cobblestone streets, but this SUV was especially annoying

      for some reason. It was a hybrid, so she couldn’t really get too

      wound up about the environment, but she felt herself getting irritated,

      anyway.

      Helen pulled a shopping cart out of the stand and wheeled it into

      the store. As she waved at a few kids from school who worked at

      the registers, she started to hear the Furies whispering. She debated

      running out . . . but everyone at school already thought she

      was crazy. If she ran out of the grocery store now like she had seen

      a ghost, there would be even more gossip.

      68/395

      She made herself push the cart on, keeping her head down to

      avoid seeing the Furies—but there was nothing she could do to

      block out their voices. She would just have to move fast and get it

      over with as quickly as possible. She allowed herself a moment of

      self-pity for the injustice of her situation. She didn’t deserve to be

      haunted like this. It wasn’t fair. Helen walked briskly through the

      store, picking only the few things she would need to get through a

      day or two of cooking. Her frantic thoughts were interrupted by

      voices, real voices, coming from the next aisle over.

      “She shouldn’t be here,” said a young, but strangely serious voice.

      Helen guessed it was Cassandra’s.

      “I know,” said a male voice, possibly Jason’s? “We have to find a

      way to get to her soon. I don’t think Luke can take it much longer.”

      Helen froze. What did they mean, “get to her”? She stood there

      thinking in slow motion until she realized they were coming

      around the end of the aisle. Trying to back up, she plowed into

      someone standing right behind her. The wailing of the Furies grew

      so loud it was painful.

      She spun around and had to tilt her head almost all the way back

      to find the face above the enormous male chest that confronted

      her. Under golden curls, bright blue eyes drilled down into Helen’s.

      It crossed her mind that he looked like a blond version of

      Michelangelo’s Adam on the Sistine Chapel ceiling, newly released

      from plaster and walking around in three gigantic dimensions.

      Helen had never been so afraid of anyone in her entire life.

      She took an automatic step back and ran into her shopping cart.

      Her breath hitched painfully in the back of her throat as she

      stumbled to the side, her hands and feet clumsy with fear. There

      was a bright, momentary glimmer, and he twitched away from her,

      his body convulsing spasmodically.

      Helen smelled the nauseating combination of singed hair and

      ozone that always made her think that she had done something

      wrong. A brief thought of the Nantucket ferry flashed through her

      69/395

      mind as she studied the blond monster in front of her, trying to figure

      out what had happened. After a stunned second, he collected

      himself and leaned closer to Helen with an evil grin on his angelic

      face. He was near enough that Helen could feel the heat coming off

      his body.

      “Hector!” commanded a familiar voice. Helen had only a moment

      to register that it was Lucas before she felt him grab her arm and

      pull her away from the Goliath that was his cousin. Instantly furious

      instead of frightened, Helen rounded on Lucas and threw off

      his arm.

      “Don’t touch me,” she hissed. She felt light-headed. “Why can’t

      you just stay away from me?”

      “Why can’t you just stay at home?” he shot back at her. “Didn’t

      you have enough fun last night in the alley?”

      “I have errands to run! It’s not like I can hide in my bedroom for

      the rest of my life just because some woman . . .” Helen realized

      she was starting to yell. She stopped herself and lowered her voice.

      A thought occurred to her. “Are you still following me?”

      “You’re lucky that’s all I’m doing. Now go home,” he growled, and

      grabbed her arm again.

      “Careful, Luke,” Hector warned, but Lucas just smiled.

      “She can’t control it yet,” he replied.

      “Can’t control what?” Helen choked out furiously, her patience

      pushed past the limit.

      “Not here. Not now,” said Jason in a low, clipped voice. Lucas

      nodded in agreement and started pulling Helen toward the door.

      Helen ripped her arm out of Lucas’s grasp again. Undeterred, he

      just grabbed her by the hand and held it hard. Helen had two

      choices. She could put up a fight in front of the entire store, or she

      could go quietly holding the hand of the most despicable boy in the

      free world. She was so frustrated she could feel a repressed scream

      squeezing h
    er lungs shut, but she had no choice.

      70/395

      Lucas frog-marched her past a chestnut-haired beauty that Helen

      guessed was the other cousin, Ariadne. She tried to smile at Helen

      compassionately even though she was clearly just as inflamed by

      the Furies as everyone else was. For a second, Helen considered

      smiling back, but she didn’t possess Ariadne’s self-control. She was

      too angry to manage it. Fleetingly, she thought that Ariadne had to

      be the nicest person in the world if she could attempt to be kind in

      that moment.

      “Don’t even look at my sister,” Lucas growled through gritted

      teeth, jerking brutally on Helen’s hand as they walked past tiny

      Cassandra. Cassandra opened her mouth to say something to her

      brother and quickly shut it, turning away.

      “I have no food in the house. What am I supposed to do for dinner?”

      Helen growled through her closed-off throat.

      “Do I look like I care?” he replied, dragging her out of the store.

      “You can’t treat me like this,” she said. He was leading her across

      the lot. “We hate each other. Fine. Why don’t we just stay away

      from each other then?”

      “And how has that worked out so far?” Lucas asked, sounding

      frustrated rather than sarcastic. “Do you always come to this same

      store at this same time every Saturday, or did you come today on a

      whim?”

      “No, never. It’s the busiest day of the week. But I needed groceries,”

      Helen sputtered. He laughed incredulously and squeezed her

      arm even harder.

      Helen suddenly realized how many random events and raw impulses

      had driven her decisions these last few days. When she

      thought about it, it was as if she had stopped choosing for herself

      days ago.

      “The Furies won’t allow us to avoid each other,” he said in a dead

      voice.

      “Then we can make a schedule or something . . .” Helen began,

      but she knew it was a lame suggestion and trailed off before he had

      71/395

      a chance to shoot it down. An ancient, supernatural force was compelling

      her to kill Lucas. It probably wasn’t going to be deterred by

      something as prosaic as a time-share.

      “My family hasn’t decided what we want to do about this, about

      you—yet. But we’ll be in touch,” Lucas said. They got to her car. He

      shoved her against the driver’s door, as if he couldn’t stop himself

      from trying to hurt her one last time. “Now go home and stay

      there,” he ordered again, and stood over her while she fumbled

      with the keys.

      For a moment as she backed out of her parking space she considered

      gunning the engine and hitting him with the car, but she

      didn’t want to mess up Kate’s paint job. Angry tears started pouring

      down her face as soon as she was out of the parking lot, and

      they didn’t stop until she was at home, splashing cold water on her

      face in the kitchen sink.

      She felt humiliated in a dozen different ways. Some of that humiliation

      she had brought on herself by attacking Lucas at school, but

      he seemed determined to belittle her. She wasn’t even allowed to

      go grocery shopping now. How was she going to explain that to her

      father?

      The thought of Jerry derailed any nascent plan of escape. She

      was hopelessly outnumbered, and unless she was willing to leave

      her father behind to fend for himself she had to wait until the

      Delos boys were done deciding how to handle her. She leaned

      against the kitchen sink and stared at the block of knives on the

      counter. If she had Lucas cornered the way he did her, she would

      have already picked out which knife to use. What she didn’t know

      was why. Why did they hate each other so much? What purpose

      could all that anger possibly serve?

      She suddenly thought about Hector, about the way he had smiled

      at her, and a carpet of goose bumps unrolled down her arms. If she

      was ever alone with him she knew he would kill her. Not just bully

      her like Lucas did, but actually, joyfully, kill her.

      72/395

      She was still leaning up against the sink half an hour later when

      her dad finally made it home. He froze midstep and looked around

      the kitchen, giving the entire room a fast once-over.

      “Did I do something wrong again?” he asked, his eyes wide.

      “Why do you keep asking me that?” Helen huffed.

      “Because the past few days every time I come home you look at

      me like I’ve forgotten your birthday or something equally

      unforgivable.”

      “Well, have you?”

      “No! I haven’t done anything! Nothing wrong,” he said with a

      straight face, but the red flush rising up his neck gave him away.

      “Should I ask about you and Kate or would I be too grossed out?”

      “Hey. There’s nothing going on there. We’re just going to be

      friends,” he said, his expression grim. Helen could tell there was a

      lot of backstory behind that decision, but she didn’t really want to

      hear it at the moment.

      “Your loss,” Helen responded with a disinterested shrug. Jerry’s

      head jerked up quickly, stunned by the bitterness in her voice.

      “You didn’t used to be so mean, Helen.”

      She crossed her arms and looked off to her left at absolutely

      nothing, too ashamed of herself to meet her father’s sad gaze. She

      could handle the fear of being pursued by vengeful spirits from

      Hades, but not if turned her into a bitch. Whatever the Delos family

      decided, she hoped they would do it quickly. She started to

      mumble an apology, but was saved from having to explain herself

      by a knock at the door. Jerry went to answer it and after a few moments

      he called out to Helen to come and join him.

      “What is it?” she asked, coming out of the kitchen. There was a

      delivery boy at the door with bags and bags of groceries.

      “He says these are for you,” Jerry said, holding out a note with

      Helen’s name on it.

      “I didn’t order these,” Helen said to the delivery boy.

      73/395

      “The order was made by a Mrs. Noel Delos to be delivered to a

      Miss Helen Hamilton. It’s all paid for,” he replied, anxious to be on

      his way.

      Jerry tipped the kid and took the groceries into the kitchen while

      Helen read the note.

      Miss Hamilton,

      I am so sorry for my son’s appalling behavior toward

      you at the market today, and I ask that you accept these

      few things I’ve sent, even if you are unable to accept an

      apology. I understand what it is to try to put dinner on the

      table with no groceries, although apparently my Lucas

      does not.

      Noel Delos

      Helen stared at the page for far longer than it took to read it. She

      was touched by the gesture. It was a ridiculously decent thing to

      do. Helen got the impression that there was something different

      about Noel Delos, but she had no idea what it was.

      “What does she mean, ‘appalling behavior,’ Lennie?” Jerry asked,

      reading over her shoulder. Helen could see outrage beginning to

      build in him. “What did that Lucas kid do to you now?”

      “No, Dad,
    it’s okay. She’s exaggerating,” Helen said, trying to

      make as little of it as possible.

      “Then we can’t accept these. This is over a hundred dollars worth

      of groceries,” he argued.

      “Oh, for crying out loud!” Helen moaned at the ceiling. She took a

      deep breath and launched into an explanation. “Okay, you win. Lucas

      and I had another fight today at the market, but it was a small

      one. In comparison, at least. Anyway, the point is that he started it

      and I couldn’t go shopping like I needed to and one of the other

      Delos kids must have told his mom that I didn’t do my shopping

      74/395

      and she took it the wrong way and sent all these groceries because

      she’s obviously a really nice woman but I don’t want you to say

      anything to her and can we please, please, drop it?”

      “What the hell is it with you and this Lucas kid?” Jerry said after

      a moment, completely flabbergasted. Then a thought occurred to

      him. “Are you two dating?” he asked in a terrified voice. Helen

      burst out laughing.

      “No, we’re not dating. What we’re doing is trying to not kill each

      other. And that isn’t working out too well,” she responded, trusting

      that the absolute truth would be so inconceivable he would think it

      was a joke. She was right.

      He got a pained look. “You’ve never had a boyfriend. Is it time for

      us to have that talk about what men and woman do when they love

      each other?”

      “Absolutely not,” Helen replied firmly.

      “Good,” he said, relieved. They stood in awkward silence for a

      moment. “So . . . we can eat the groceries, right?”

      “Heck, yeah,” she said as she turned on her heel and made for the

      kitchen while Jerry practically ran to the living room and the dependable

      comfort of SportsCenter.

      As she put together some bruschetta with the amazing bufala

      mozzarella, fresh tomato, basil, and crazy-good Spanish olive oil

      Mrs. Delos had sent, she thought about her father and how oblivious

      he was to the forces pulling her life apart in hunks. With all

      that was happening to her, she knew she might not have many

      more nights of dinner and baseball to look forward to, but the

      thought didn’t bother her as much as it would have a week ago. If

      the Delos family wanted her, they could try and take her. She was

      sick of being angry all the time. Fight and kill or fight and die, she

      really didn’t care. As long as she could keep her father out of all of

     


    Prev Next
Online Read Free Novel Copyright 2016 - 2025