Certain Read online

  ***

  The marine layer socked in the coast, a thick layer of clouds blotting out the mid-afternoon sun. The beach was mostly empty and I smiled to myself. The hotels were already full of summer tourists and I was sure they were sitting in their hotel rooms, miffed because they were losing a precious beach day. But that was the thing about June in San Diego. Sunny days were hit or miss and you never knew when Mother Nature was gonna lift her middle finger and say, “Screw you.”

  But for me and Grif? We didn't care if it was sunny. All we cared about was whether or not the waves were firing. Griffin pulled his car to the end of Law Street and left the engine idling. We both hopped out and scanned the ocean. There were small sets, a little choppy, the wind blowing in from the north. Nothing good but, in the mood I was in, I probably would have hauled my board out even if the waves were mush.

  Griffin shielded his eyes. “What do you think? Wanna check out Bird Rock? Head over to OB?”

  “Nah,” I told him. “This is good.”

  “Good?” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Either your eyesight has gone to shit or you're angry and apathetic.”

  “Apathetic?” I turned to stare at him. “You trying to memorize the dictionary again?”

  He jabbed my shoulder. “Fuck off.”

  I punched him back, my fist bouncing off his shoulder.

  He laughed.

  I tried to.

  “Well, well,” a voice said from behind us.

  I didn't need to turn around to see who it was, but I did, anyway. I'd recognize that voice for the rest of my life and there was no escaping it.

  Kayla, my ex-girlfriend, stood behind us, smiling. She'd squeezed herself into a pair of skimpy denim shorts that hugged her ass and a white tank top that showed off just how chilly the breeze coming off the ocean was. I let my gaze linger there for a second, but not because it was something I'd particularly liked or missed. No, I stared at her tits because I couldn't believe I'd ever buried my face between them.

  “Am I interrupting a fight or something?” she asked, tilting her head. “You need to kiss and make up?”

  She had perfect teeth. Perfect hair. Perfect everything. I hadn't been the one to pursue her—she'd come after me like a dog in heat—but I was more than happy to take what she'd been willing to offer. And I'd gotten used to her, like a habit.

  A bad habit.

  “No fight,” Griffin told her. His voice was cool. He knew our history.

  “Well, I saw you hit him,” she said, her mouth forming into a pout. “I just wasn't sure...”

  “Why the fuck would you care?” I asked.

  Her eyes widened a little and she took a step back. “What do you mean? I care because it involves you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Spare me the bullshit, Kayla. You know we aren't fighting.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and her tits lifted up to her neck. I bit back a sigh of frustration. I hated that she was hot. I hated that I still noticed. I needed to remember the not so hot stuff, too.

  “Can you excuse us for a second?” she said to Griffin.

  Grif glanced at me, his eyebrows raised in question. I shrugged and waved him off.

  “I'm gonna head down,” he said. “Don't keep me waiting.”

  “Trust me,” I said. “I won't.”

  He jogged back to his truck and hopped in. The tires squealed and the truck lurched backward as he careened down the road in reverse. Thirty seconds later, he was backing into an empty space on the road. He got out, grabbed his board and headed back toward us and down the stairs to the sand.

  I turned back to Kayla. “What do you want?”

  “I just wanted to say hi.”

  “Really?” My voice was laced with disbelief. “You just happen to show up in PB to say hi?”

  “Maybe I was going to the beach,” she said defensively.

  I glanced at the gray sky. “Yeah, perfect day for it.”

  “UV rays can travel through clouds,” she said, smiling.

  I didn't smile back. “You could have stayed in Del Mar.”

  Del Mar was where I'd grown up. Where I'd gone to high school and where I'd played ball. And where I'd found out that my plan to go to school and play college baseball were nothing but pipe dreams.

  “Fine,” she said, sighing. “I drove to your apartment, okay? And before I could get out of my car, you got in Griffin's truck and drove here. So I just sort of followed you.”

  “Stalk much?”

  A frown marred her pretty face. “I'm not stalking you. I just...I wanted to talk to you.”

  “I have nothing to say to you.”

  Her frown morphed into something else and tears welled up in her eyes. “West, please.”

  “Please what?” I said. I took a step closer and she stiffened. “Say I'll forgive you for fucking around with someone else? Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't happening.”

  “I was drunk,” she said, the tears spilling on to her cheeks.

  “So?” I spat. “You drink and somehow forget you have a boyfriend?”

  “No, I—”

  I held up my hand. “Spare me the lies.”

  “They're not lies!”

  “Yeah,” I said. “They are.” I stared at her. I felt nothing. No lust, certainly no love. Once I was able to get past the looks, there was nothing else there. I'd just figured it out too late. And I didn't give a shit that she was crying. For all I knew, those tears were a lie, too.

  “It was one time,” she said. “One time.”

  “Not sure if you know this but one time was enough for me.”

  “So you're just going to throw all this away?” she asked. She blinked and more tears fell. “Everything we had...just...gone?”

  “What exactly did we have, Kayla?” I waited for her to respond but she said nothing. “We partied and had sex. That was it.”

  “That's not true and you know it.”

  I ignored her. “And, if we're being honest—oh wait. I forgot. You don't do honest. Well, let me be the first in this relationship to try that out. Sorry. Former relationship. If I'm being honest, the partying was average and the sex was mediocre, at best.”

  She flinched like I'd just slapped her. “Fuck you, West Montgomery.”

  “Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “Not happening. Ever again.”

  She unfolded her arms and fisted her hands and I thought she might hit me. “I thought you were different,” she said, drawing a shaky breath.

  “What? You thought I'd be cool if my girlfriend messed around with someone else?” I flashed back to the night I'd seen her with Brendan. I'd been fucked up, too and I'd had no problem driving my fist into his face. I was still paying for that, I thought, thinking of the court date that was looming over my head. Griffin had assured me I'd just get probation but I wasn't sure I cared.

  “I thought you'd understand,” she said. “Be forgiving.”

  My laugh was mean. “I don't forgive. Not ever.”

  My shoulder connected with hers as I brushed past. I made my way to Griffin's truck so I could grab my board. I didn't look back at Kayla and, once I'd gotten my board and turned back around to head toward the beach, I didn't make eye contact with her.

  A year ago, I might have been the forgiving type. I might have listened to her story about getting shit-faced and 'accidentally' hooking up with Brendan Payne. I might have looked at her and decided she was being sincere and swallowed my pride and given her another chance. Because I was a good guy and because I tried to believe the best in people. Sure, I would have been pissed and maybe I wouldn't have been able to get over it, but I would have tried.

  But that was before my dad. Before I'd discovered that he'd thrown my future away.

  It was because of him that I was angry and it was because of him that I'd decided I wasn't going to forgive anyone who did me wrong.

  Not him and not my ex-girlfriend.

  I crossed the cool sand and stripped off my shirt and pulled on my rash
guard. I ran my hand over the board and swore under my breath. I'd forgotten the wax in the truck. I glanced up at the cliffs. Kayla was standing there, watching me. No way in hell I was going back for it.

  I jogged toward the shoreline, sucking in my breath as the cold water hit my feet. I ran a few more yards, then hopped on my board and paddled through the break.

  Griffin was waiting for me, lined up with a group of other guys.

  He grinned. “You guys get everything figured out?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And...?”

  “We figured out that we're still done.”

  He chuckled. “Just like that, huh? Writing her off?”

  “I don't do liars,” I said. “Not my dad and not her.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, nodding. “You'll be hooking up with someone else soon enough. Girls can't keep their hands off of you.” He batted his eyelashes and made kissy noises.

  I flicked his arm with my fingers. “Shut up.”

  I watched as the first guy in line started paddling across the swell. He pushed himself up just as the face of the wave crested and sent him downward, his board carving through the water. The wave broke behind him and he disappeared as the white water chased after him.

  I wasn't just done with liars. I was done with relationships. Griffin was the exception I would allow. We'd been friends for years and nothing was going to change that. People always said blood was thicker than water but I wasn't buying it. Blood had betrayed me.

  And I wasn't going to let anyone get close to me ever again.

  LATE AUGUST

  “Why didn't we register online?”

  Mark grinned. “Uh, because we sorta forgot?”

  I stared at the line snaking toward the registration building at Mesa Community college. Griffin had badgered me all summer and finally convinced me to get my shit together and enroll in a couple of classes. The last place I wanted to be was standing in line at Harvard on the Hill with a bunch of stoner-losers, but I didn't have much choice. My dad had guaranteed that.

  Griffin wouldn't do classes—he was making good money bar-tending—but I knew Mark was signing up for a few. So I'd called him up and we'd come over to Mesa together.

  “This is for registration, right?” a girl's voice said from behind me.

  I'd seen her coming before she'd gotten to the line. I'd looked longer than I'd planned. She was pretty. She didn't look like a stoner and she wasn't walking with that begrudging reluctance that seemed to weigh down everyone else in line. She seemed confident, curious, engaged in what she was doing as she looked at the buildings. I turned back around before she'd reached the line, before I could get carried away by just how hot she was.

  “No, they're giving out free hot dogs,” I said, smirking.

  I turned to get a better look at her. Six inches shorter than me, her wavy brown hair brushed off her shoulders. She was definitely hot. But I was done with hot girls, I reminded myself. I was done with girls, period.

  “Seriously?” she asked, her eyes widening. They were a startling, vivid blue, almost the same color as mine, and the look seemed so genuine that I almost felt bad for shooting off my mouth.

  Mark snorted and I remembered: done with girls.

  “Uh, no.” I gave her a quick once over, something I knew she wouldn't care for. “And you're gonna need to be a little sharper than that if you're gonna get through college, sweetheart.”

  She looked away from me but for some reason, I continued watching her. She really did look out of place, like she didn't belong with me and the other losers lining up for remedial classes at this joke of a school. But she didn't look lost. She was happy, smiling, like a kid eager to start her first day of kindergarten.

  A girl joined her in line and sighed. “Much better.”

  I wondered what had been wrong.

  The brunette nodded and her friend looked at her for a second, then asked, “What's wrong?”

  She didn't answer.

  I should've kept my mouth shut. I didn't need to be a jerk. But there was something about the girl that suddenly made me want to get her attention, even if I did it in the wrong way.

  “She's disappointed about the hot dogs,” I told her friend.

  The brunette's cheeks reddened. “You don't need to be an ass.”

  Her friend looked at me, then at her, completely confused.

  I grinned. “It's the way God made me, honey.”

  She rolled her eyes and glanced at her friend. “I knew this place would be filled with Neanderthals.”

  Mark gave her a dirty look and I stared at her for a long moment. Maybe I'd read her wrong. She might be different than the people lining up for classes but she was just a typical chick, making assumptions and staring down her nose at everyone else.

  “I knew you were one of those,” I said.

  “One of what?” she asked.

  I turned around and took a step toward her, a mocking smile spreading across my face. “One of those chicks who thinks she's too good to go to school here. Knew it as soon as you walked up, looking down your nose at everybody in line.”

  “I did not,” she said, frowning.

  “Sure you did,” I said. My eyes locked on hers and I saw her shiver. “You were pissed there was even a line. Like you should get to bypass the line because you're better than this place.” I knew I was the one making assumptions now, but I didn't care. I turned my back to her and said, “You may be hot, sweetheart, but that isn't gonna get you to the front of this line. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

  She grabbed me by the arm and spun me around. Her eyes were on fire, her expression one of complete outrage.

  “Hey,” she said, digging her fingers into my bicep. I flexed but she didn't pull away, just tightened her grip and I felt something stir inside of me. “Jackass. I came here to register for classes because I wanted to. I didn't come here to look down my nose at anybody. I chose to come here. So you can shut the hell up.”

  I looked down at her hand still on my arm. Her fingers were soft. Warm. It had been a while since a girl had touched me. All by design, of course. I'd sworn them off after my run-in with Kayla and it had been a long, long summer of no sex. No hook-ups. Nothing but me and surfing and insane amounts of beer.

  I stared at the girl still holding on to me. She wasn't afraid of me. She wasn't intimidated by me. She wasn't flirting with me. She wasn't impressed by my big mouth. She was flat-out pissed.

  A tiny thrill ran through me. I grinned at her. “You just wanted to touch me.”

  She yanked her hand off my arm like it had suddenly caught fire and her friend bit back a smile.

  “You've got nice hands, sweetness.”

  I let my eyes rove up and down her body, my eyes lingering on her chest. She wasn't on full display like my ex always was but all the right curves were clearly visible.

  I should have stopped. I should have turned back around and ignored her. But there was something about the way she was looking at me, her eyes still on fire, her chest rising and falling with deep, angry breaths, that lit something inside of me.

  “You wanna touch me somewhere else, just ask. As long as I get to do the same.”

  If steam could come out of her ears, it would have. “You wish, jackass.”

  “Oh, I do,” I said, nodding. “And my name's West. Not Jack. But I do have a nice...”

  “West?” She snorted. “What the hell kind of name is that?”

  I chuckled. “Best name you'll ever know. Guaranteed.”

  “Whatever,” she said. She grabbed her friend's arm and tugged. “Let's go.”

  She was right to walk away. I was being a first class prick. And I was sending signals that would have scrambled the most sophisticated network. But my shields were up. I'd seen a pretty girl, one that actually interested me, one that wasn't afraid of me, and I'd almost caved. Being a prick would guarantee I wouldn't get entangled with her. Ever. She didn't seem to suffer fools and
I was definitely acting like a fool.

  “I didn't get your name, honey,” I called as she stormed away. “Maybe next time.”

  She didn't look back.

  And I couldn't look away.

  Read the rest of Abby’s story in It Was You by Anna Cruise.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Anna Cruise has been writing and drooling over boys since middle school. Lots of years have passed but some things never change...

  Anna loves to hear from readers and authors. Visit her at https://annacruise.com. You can also like her Facebook page, find her on Twitter @AnnaCruiseBooks.

  Fearless

  A dystopian paranormal romance by Carlyle Labuschagne

  Be Bold

  Rion

  “What are you doing?” Willard groans from the shadow of his bed.

  I fumble around in the darkness for my sheath. “Nothing. Go back to sleep,” I whisper back.

  “I’d love to, but you are making it impossible for me to do that.” His bed creeks as he turns to face the other way.

  I crouch lower, stretching my arm further into the darkness below my bunk, but still I cannot find it. Inwardly, I’m cursing my pet stoat, Pebbles, for the missing holder. I know she’s taken off with it again. Every Saturday morning, I venture to the skirts of our village without her. And every Saturday morning, she runs off with my sheath and hides out with it somewhere in the trees until my return. The silly animal is jealous. I usually take her with me everywhere I go, but I never take her so close to the border.

  There are vicious predators out there, and I don’t mean the animal kind. I’m talking about hunters. They will kill us both for our precious parts. The Magam don’t leave any evidence of their kill. They slaughter for the use of evil potions and dark spells. It is said they will use each and every part of their kill; skull, eyes, insides and skin. They are ruthless killers who murder Minoans and animals alike. I have also heard they will kill to capture the essence of a being by slicing them open alive to call upon the ancestors.

  The Magam came here with the first arrival of humans. At first, we were happy to share Poseidon with another race, one that was threatened by extinction, too, but soon after the human colony was established bad things started to happen. Murder. The Magam are cruel butchers, exiled by their own kind for their evil intentions. They are feared and hated by all, and I think this fuels their undertakings even more.

  As for me, I personally look forward to the day I bump into one of those monsters. I’m a trained warrior, born from the ashes of fearlessness itself. But when it comes to her, I become a weakling. I wish I could show her who I am in my head, maybe then she would decide against her engagement to the chief’s son. Just thinking about it makes me nervous.

  I bump my head on the underside of the bedpost while I scurry around.

  “Rion, you are going to wake the others. If Enoch catches you, you know he’ll see it as betrayal.”

  Willard is right, so I decide to stop searching and leave immediately. I have to get to her before sunrise. Grabbing my coat from the chair, I slip my arms through the tight sleeves. The jacket thing is a human invention we had to barter for when the eternal autumn began. I pull my hands through my braid and draw in courage.

  Today is the day I will finally tell her. The undeclared confession pumps with speeding adrenalin through my veins, beating viciously with desire beneath my ribs to such an extent I feel its pulse in my throat. I can’t wait to see her. I turn to escape through the window.

  “Don’t forget your dagger.”

  I pull the dagger from beneath my pillow and push it into the cuff of my boot before I make my escape, but stop cold when we hear a door closing. Through the sliver of light beaming in from the open window, Willard and I exchange a look. His expression meets mine in agreement. Enoch has been out all night again. It’s no wonder there were no appointed guards last night. And strange, too, as it’s the day before the day.

  “We’re going to have to follow him next time.”

  Willard agrees with a single nod. “Go, before he comes in here to check on us.”

  I swallow hard at the thought of being caught. “If he―”

  “He won’t. Now go.”

  I leap out the window, but turn before I leave. “Thank you.”

  “Shhh,” is his only response, before I rush off to embrace the mocking, cold careless morning.

  Leaves crush under my feet as I make it to the compound garden’s border. Pulling my hair from its braid, I let it cover my ears to shield them from the nippy morning air. I scale the small fence that leads to the path winding down the mountain. The air smells crisp and clean from the dewy plants and moisture as I make my way onto the wooden bridge; it separates the upper and lower village. The garrison is the highest part of the village, and her house is right on the other side. I have to make it quick and be clever about it, too.

  Once I clear the bridge, two sets of wooden stairs lead me down the side of the mountain, but I don’t take that route; there are guards at those points. Sometimes I wonder if it’s more to keep the villagers in, than the daemons out. Our Council is planning something, I know it. There has been a lot of change within it and amongst our young warriors. New recruits are rushing in, with many not having lasted our training. Out of seven new recruits, only Willard and I remain. We will graduate within the next cycle, which is only a few weeks away from today.

  But if Enoch catches me, I’ll be thrown out, and with it any chance of seeing Maya ever again.