Intertwined

FIVE



THE DAY BEGAN like any other for Mary Ann. She crawled out of bed, showered, tugged on the clothes she’d laid out the night before, and blew dry her hair while outlining what she needed to turn in or which upcoming tests to study for. This week’s most important exam was chemistry, one of her hardest subjects. Only problem was, thoughts of Aden Stone kept interfering.



Penny had admitted to giving him Mary Ann’s number. So why hadn’t he called? An entire week had passed. Part of her had expected it and had jumped every time her phone had rung. He’d seemed so eager to talk to her. The other part of her, however, had hoped that he wouldn’t contact her. He was gorgeous, but after that first initial attraction, she’d felt only confused and friendly toward him—when she wasn’t experiencing that strange urge to run.



Did she even want to be his friend? Being near him was like being punched in the chest; her body only wanted to escape him. Her mind, though…it mourned his loss. Mourned, as if he were somehow dear to her.



Steam began to rise from her scalp, and she hurriedly switched the dryer off. She had to stop thinking of that boy. Already he was screwing with her mind, making it mush—proving that she’d been right to date Tucker and stay with him these last few months. Tucker always made her feel pretty, boosting her self-esteem, but he didn’t consume her. He gave her the space she needed.



With a sigh, she trudged downstairs. Her dad had breakfast ready: pecan waffles with blueberry syrup. She ate two while he read the paper and drank his coffee. Their usual routine.



“Want a ride to school?” he asked. He folded his paper and set it aside, peering over at her expectantly.



He always knew when she’d finished eating without being told.



“Nah. Walking will increase the amount of oxygen in my brain, which will help as I mentally pore through my notes about synthesizing iodide.” Which was also the reason she didn’t ride with Tucker, though he, too, always offered. He liked to chat and that would have distracted her. Penny was perpetually late, so she was a no-go, as well.



Her dad’s lips twitched into a smile, and he shook his head. “Always studying.”



When he smiled like that his entire face lit up and she could see why her friends crushed on him. In looks, he was her opposite. He had blond hair and blue eyes, was brawny where she was slim. The only thing they had in common was their youth (or so he was fond of saying). He was only thirty-five, which was young for a parent. (Again, words straight from his mouth.) He’d married her mom soon after high school and they’d had her right away.



Maybe that’s why they’d married. Because of her. That wasn’t why they’d stayed together, though. Oh, they’d fought a lot but they’d clearly loved each other. The way they’d stared over at each other, expressions soft, had been proof of that. But sometimes, because of the things they’d verbally hurled at each other, Mary Ann used to suspect her dad had cheated on her mom and her mother had never gotten over it.



“You wish I was her, don’t you?” her mother had liked to shout at him.



He’d always denied it.



For many years, Mary Ann had resented him for the possibility. Her sweet mother hadn’t worked, had stayed home and taken care of Mary Ann, the house and all the chores. But when she had died, his utter despondency convinced Mary Ann of his innocence. Plus, he’d been alone now for several years. He hadn’t gone on a single date. Hadn’t even glanced at another woman.



“You remind me more of your mom every day,” he said, his mind obviously taking the same path hers had. His eyes were glazed with memories, his mouth soft with a smile. “Not just in appearance, either. She loved chemistry, too.”



“Are you kidding? She hated math, and chemistry is filled with little equations that would have driven her insane.” The only homework her mom had been able to help her with was English and art. “Besides, who said I loved chemistry? I do it because it’s necessary.”



Mary Ann knew what he was doing, though. Lying to make her feel closer to her mom, as if death didn’t separate them. She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll never forget her.”



“I know,” he said softly. “I’m glad. She was an amazing woman who turned this house into a home.”



Soon after her dad opened his own practice, they’d had the money to buy this two-story estate. Her mom had been ecstatic. She and her sister, Anne, Mary Ann’s namesake who’d died before Mary Ann was born, had grown up poor and this had been her first taste of wealth. Her mom had turned the walls from stark white to inviting colors, and had hung up photos of the three of them. She’d saturated the once stifling air with the scent of her sweet perfume and had warmed the cold tile with plush, multihued rugs.



Her father cleared his throat, bringing them both back from their memories. “I have to work late tonight. You’ll be okay?”



“Absolutely. I plan to finish reading that article on ADD and OCD. It’s pretty interesting. I mean, did you know that thirty-four percent of kids with—”



“Dear God, I’ve created a monster.” He reached over and mussed her hair. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, honey, but you need to get out more. Live a little. Several of my patients see me for this very reason, not realizing the stress they’ve placed upon themselves has begun to wear them down, that time off heals just as much as laughter. Honestly, even I go on vacation. You’re sixteen. You should be reading books about wizard boys and gossipy girls.”



She frowned. She’d read the article to impress him, and now he didn’t want to hear about it? Now he wanted her head buried in fiction? “I’m expanding my mind, Dad.”



“And I’m proud of you for that, but I still think you need some time off. Time devoted to fun. What about Tucker? You guys could go to dinner. And before you say anything, I know I threatened to castrate him the first time you guys went out, but I’ve gotten used to the idea of you having a boyfriend. Not that you spend much time with him anymore.”



“Most nights, we talk on the phone,” she protested. “But he has football practice or a game every night of the week, and I have homework. And on weekends, as you know, I practically live at the Watering Pot.”



“Okay, well, that doesn’t help for tonight. What about…Penny? She could come over and you guys could watch a movie.”



He really was worried about her social life if he was suggesting she hang out with Penny. That begged the question of why. Did he feel guilty that she spent so much time on her own? He shouldn’t. She enjoyed her own company. There was no pressure to be something she wasn’t anymore: bubbly, carefree. “All I can promise is to find her at school and ask her what she has planned,” she told him, because she knew it was what he wanted to hear. Most likely, she’d spend the evening with her head buried in her chem book.



“Which means you’re not actually going to invite her over.”



She shrugged, remaining silent.



Sighing, he checked his watch. “You’d better get going. A tardy will ruin your perfect record.”



Classic Dr. Gray. When he wasn’t getting the results he wanted, he sent her away so that he could strategize and resume the argument later with a new plan of attack.



Mary Ann stood. “Love you, Dad. I look forward to winning round two when you get home.” She gathered her backpack and, with a wave, strolled to the front door.



He chuckled. “I don’t deserve you, you know?”



“I know,” she called over her shoulder, and could hear his renewed laughter as the door shut behind her.



When she exited her house, she immediately noticed a large, really large—ginormously large—black dog…wolf?…lying on its belly in the shade, only a few feet away from her. No way to miss it; it was like a car parked in her yard. Her blood instantly chilled.



The moment it spotted her, it jackknifed to its feet, lips pulling back from its teeth, revealing long, white fangs. A growl rumbled from its throat, low and menacing.



“D-Dad,” she tried to yell, but the sudden lump in her throat muted the sound of her voice. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.



One step, two, she backed away, her entire body trembling. Blood rushed through her ears, terror screaming through her mind. Those green eyes were cold, hard…hungry? She spun, meaning to sprint back inside the house. The beast leapt in front of her and blocked the door.



Oh, God. What should she do? What the hell should she do? Once more, she found herself backing away. This time, it followed, keeping the same, too-short distance between them.



She inched backward another step, and the heel of her tennie caught on something. Down, down she tumbled, landing on her butt with a painful thwack. What had—Her backpack, she realized. It now provided a comfy rest for her knees. When had she dropped it? Does it matter? she thought with a wild laugh. I’m as good as dead.



No way could she outrun the wolf now. Not that she’d ever had a chance, really. And it was a wolf, probably a wild one. It was simply too big to be a dog. She swallowed a whimper. Would have been nice to lead it on a chase, though, rather than splaying herself out like an all-you-can-eat dinner buffet.



Her only hope was that someone was outside, watching the confrontation—someone who’d either run to help or call 911. A quick peek to her left showed that Penny’s Mustang GT was sitting in the Parkses’ driveway, but there was no sign of life outside or even inside the house. A quick peek to her right showed her other neighbor had already left for work. Oh. God.



The wolf was on her a second later, its front legs pushing her shoulders into the ground. Still she couldn’t scream, her voice gone, stolen.



Don’t just lie there. Do something! She reached up, clamping its mouth shut with one hand and trying to heave it off her with the other. It merely jerked its muzzle from her grip and then batted her other arm away. Never had she felt so helpless. At least it wasn’t drooling.



Slowly it leaned down. She flinched, pressing herself as deep into the ground as she could, a sound finally escaping her: a whimper. Rather than eat her face off as she’d assumed, it sniffed her neck. Its nose was cold, dry, its breath warm as it exhaled. It smelled of soap and pine.