Temptation: A Novel Read online

  TEMPTATION

  Published by David C Cook

  4050 Lee Vance View

  Colorado Springs, CO 80918 U.S.A.

  David C Cook Distribution Canada

  55 Woodslee Avenue, Paris, Ontario, Canada N3L 3E5

  David C Cook U.K., Kingsway Communications

  Eastbourne, East Sussex BN23 6NT, England

  The graphic circle C logo is a registered trademark of David C Cook.

  All rights reserved. Except for brief excerpts for review purposes,

  no part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form

  without written permission from the publisher.

  The website addresses recommended throughout this book are offered as a resource to you. These websites are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement on the part of David C Cook, nor do we vouch for their content.

  This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.

  LCCN 2012930869

  ISBN 978-1-4347-6417-1

  eISBN 978-1-4347-0503-7

  © 2012 Travis Thrasher

  The Team: Don Pape, LoraBeth Norton, Nick Lee, Caitlyn York, Karen Athen

  Cover Design: Amy Konyndyk

  Cover Photo: iStockPhoto

  First Edition 2012

  For Madison

  Contents

  Preface

  1. Elegia

  2. Made for You

  3. The Breakfast Club

  4. Memories

  5. Keys

  6. Trying to Outrun Reason

  7. Back Roads Party

  8. A Night Like This

  9. Like Mother, Like Son

  10. You Owe Me

  11. Just a Shadow

  12. Pity Party

  13. Warning Sign

  14. Similarities

  15. Bad Romance

  16. End of the Discussion

  17. A Slap and a Punch

  18. The World Will Be Yours

  19. The Fantasy

  20. Poe

  21. Answers?

  22. A Little Care

  23. What I’m Doing

  24. The Card Game

  25. Following the Rules

  26. Banana Split

  27. Rolling in the Deep

  28. Rolling in Something Else

  29. A Slice of Normal

  30. Sun in Your Eyes

  31. Anticipation

  32. A Great Day

  33. A Voice from the Past

  34. Mess with the Bull You’ll Get the Horns

  35. The Cold Hard Facts of Life

  36. Don’t You Forget about Me

  37. How Old I Am

  38. Dreams

  39. Bloodline

  40. Handling Things

  41. Prisoners

  42. Some Weird Voodoo Stuff

  43. Partial Answers

  44. Now We’re Even

  45. Another Story

  46. One Big, Gigantic Pool

  47. Drama

  48. Alone

  49. Broken

  50. Summertime Rolls

  51. Who Knows

  52. The Spoon

  53. Petrified

  54. Cold and Soft and Dead

  55. Breathturn

  56. A Different Story Again

  57. Stuck and Hidden Somewhere

  58. The Boy Who Cried Wells

  59. Madly Crazy

  60. Losing My Mind

  61. The Sex Chapter

  62. The Dream Is Never the Same

  63. Coming Back Again

  64. A Little More Trouble

  65. Lies

  66. When the Creepies Come Calling

  67. Living in the Moment

  68. Harder to Breathe

  69. Texts

  70. Lovesong

  71. Dr. Everything’ll Be All Right

  72. Shadowplay

  73. Finally

  74. Slave to Love

  75. Long Gone

  76. The Routine

  77. Trying to Kill Me

  78. The Conversation

  79. Destiny

  80. Angry

  81. Deliverance

  82. Midnight City

  83. The Boxcar

  84. A Song and a Dance

  85. Temptation

  86. Temptation Remix

  87. Clean Slate

  88. Exchanging Information

  89. Dirt

  90. Nothing to Dislike

  91. Definitely Not Brotherly

  92. The Pit

  93. Fear

  94. So …

  95. No Reply at All

  96. The Darkness Is Easier

  97. Dream or Reality

  98. A Lost Battle

  99. Elegia II

  100. Whatever You Need

  101. Real

  102. What’s in a Name?

  103. Where This Will Lead

  104. The Gift

  105. Chicago

  106. Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

  107. The Stranger

  108. Remorse

  AfterWords

  Three Recommended Playlists

  Behind the Book: Sixteen Candles

  A Snapshot

  TONIGHT I THINK I’LL WALK ALONE

  I’LL FIND MY SOUL AS I GO HOME.

  —“TEMPTATION” BY NEW ORDER

  Preface

  The night changes everything.

  So she told me.

  Final words to her little boy.

  In the passenger seat of the SUV, I look out and see the city. It glows and breathes and welcomes me. I hear the words and believe them.

  I never knew Chicago could look so beautiful.

  It’s late, and I feel like we’ve been driving forever. My ears are sore from the earbuds attached to my iPod. My butt is sore from sitting in place for so long. The last time we stopped was around Lexington. I’m ready to get out and stretch my legs and step back onto flat Illinois land.

  Solitary is over a dozen hours away.

  Not far enough, if you ask me, but it’ll have to do.

  It’s quiet in the car. I look out the front window at the skyline in the distance. That’s where we’re headed, toward the city and not the suburbs.

  The city means more people. More people means more help in case—well, in case of anything.

  “You awake?”

  I glance over at my father. “Never fell asleep.”

  “You closed your eyes.”

  Sometimes it’s better that way.

  I yawn and wipe my eyes.

  “You’re going to enjoy it here,” Dad tells me.

  “Yeah.”

  I don’t really believe this. I want to. I really want to. But I just need to be away from that cursed town for a while. Maybe I can slowly begin to forget. Maybe I can slowly start to live again.

  But that’s what you tried doing in the summertime, and look where it got you.

  I don’t want to think about the last few months. The only thing that will bring is hurt, and I’ve got enough of that as it is.

  “I think you’ll like the apartment,” Dad says.

  “I think I’ll like anything that doesn’t have winding dirt roads around it.”

  Or secret hidden tunnels below it.

  Dad doesn’t know quite what to say. I don’t blame him. He probably still aches for Mom. Maybe he’s angry with himself for not being able to do anything more.

  That’s how I feel. Angry with myself, with nothing left to say.

  When someone dies, all you can do sometimes is stay quiet and keep moving.

  I thought that losing Jocelyn hurt. But this … this is different. This is
worse.

  The first time you did too little. But this time you did too much.

  “Hungry?” Dad asks.

  I was until I turned off the music and started hearing the voices. “No.”

  The city with its lights and life invites us in. I’m glad to see civilization again. I no longer feel so remote and so alone.

  Yet there’s a part of me that says I should have stayed.

  There was no reason to stay.

  There’s so much to think about that my head hurts. I can’t sort out the details. I think of the motorcycle, of the cards, of Marsh and Staunch, of Oli, of him. I can feel the Zippo lighter in my pocket.

  Then I picture her face and feel the hurt again.

  “I know Mom is proud of you.”

  I let out a chuckle and then keep my voice down. “Proud of me for what?”

  “Proud of you for being strong for her.”

  It’s been quite some time since I’ve felt proud or strong. The irony is that it’s my father telling me this.

  Seven months ago, there’d have been no chance ever that I’d be riding here with him.

  But life sure has a way of crashing and burning around you.

  The interstate eventually merges into Lake Shore Drive. Even though I can’t see it, I know Lake Michigan is out there in the darkness. I can feel it watching and waiting in silence. Eventually we take an exit and drive for a few minutes down block after block.

  “This place will be busy tomorrow night around this time,” Dad says.

  Everybody will be celebrating and toasting and laughing and living.

  Wanna know what I was doing last year on New Year’s Eve, Dad? I was discovering that this girl I’d fallen crazy in love with had her throat slashed by a bunch of freaks in robes.

  Even though Dad knows a few things, he doesn’t know that much. He can’t know much. I still don’t know everything, but I know enough now. I know a lot of answers to questions that circled inside my head a year ago.

  Answers might fit the puzzle pieces together, but they still don’t block out the gaping hole in the picture. The hole that’s my heart.

  1. Elegia

  It’s June, and there’s a guy—a kid—a boy stuck in a ditch that’s called his life.

  Sixteen.

  Sad.

  Stuck in summer school.

  Stuck without a license. Without a job. Without friends.

  Stuck in a town he hates and fears. Stuck in a family that’s leftover parts, with a mother who only has leftover love to give.

  Surrounded on all sides by those who claim they know him, who claim there’s something about him, who claim this and that. Threatened and watched by unseen strangers.

  A boy still haunted by memories of a girl he once knew.

  A boy still haunted by memories of all the things he could have done.

  There’s a teen who’s supposed to be playing the next track on the next album but instead is stuck repeating the same sad, endless song that keeps going around and around the turntable.

  Yeah, there’s that guy. That poor, miserable guy.

  But that guy’s not me.

  2. Made for You

  The front door used to frighten me. Now it frees me.

  I swing it open, daring them to seize me. I walk downstairs, daring them to trip me. I know someone watches me, but only God knows why. But we know where things stand between me and God, don’t we, so let’s not go there.

  I’m done going there.

  I should be tired of not having a license and not having a car, but I’m not. Instead, I’m breaking the law on a Triumph motorcycle as I start it up and get on out.

  I’m not afraid.

  Yes you are.

  I’m not plagued by the last eight months.

  Says who?

  The faster I rev this machine and turn the corners, the more unbound I feel. I can almost, almost, really almost escape.

  Nope.

  But I can and do, and soon even those nagging stupid swirling thoughts inside my head go away.

  Just like that.

  I don’t hear them anymore.

  But I do see the road ahead, and for once I’m happy. I’m a happy boy. I’m not running for my life and I’m not covered in blood and I’m not seeing ghosts and I’m not crying.

  Nope. I’m happy.

  I’m happy because the sun is shining. School is over, and I don’t have to feel like a sore thumb sticking out. I can’t sleep in like Mom does because I’ve got summer school, but that’s fine. It just means I can avoid finding a job since my last one burned down. I can avoid thinking about all that, and you know what? The wind and the whipping streets all make it go far away.

  It’s been a few weeks since graduation, and it’s gone away.

  This is the fifth day back at the dump I’d gotten away from, but I’m a different person.

  I’m changed.

  I am different from the guy who climbed the steps of the school last October and proceeded to slowly waste away with worry.

  I pull my bike up in the parking lot and get off.

  I’m riding a bike. I mean—come on.

  It’s a new day.

  The first day of the rest of your life.

  So I’ve been telling myself over and over and over.

  It’s a Friday, and the weekend is almost here. A weekend that no longer frightens me.

  I’d take off my helmet, but I didn’t wear a helmet because that’s how I roll.

  You don’t roll anyplace.

  “Shut up,” I say.

  Then I look around to make sure nobody saw me talking to …

  Yeah, myself.

  Guess some things never change.

  3. The Breakfast Club

  The beautiful thing about being here at Harrington High is that nobody else is there to taunt or watch or mock or spy. This is the first of my two three-week summer school sessions. Nothing like spending most of the summer at the school I desperately wanted to get away from. But after a week of this, everything has changed. The dark, creepy cobwebs have been cleaned up. Now everything is actually …

  Normal.

  The weeks since graduation—since everything happened with Pastor Marsh—have been awesome because I’ve gotten used to not doing anything. Not hearing anything going BOO in the middle of the night. Not having to deal with any craziness. Just living day after day as a normal teen. Learning how to start and ride the motorcycle that an elderly woman named Iris left me, the one that belonged to Uncle Robert when he used to work for her at the Crag’s Inn. No Iris or missing uncle has been spotted, which is okay.

  It’s all okay.

  I’ve come to realize that whatever the reason my teachers decided to fail me (well, not my French teacher, because I deserved that F, but my English and algebra teachers), it doesn’t really matter anymore because this is a glorified recess. Summer school is like a study hall minus the studying and the students.

  So far, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be doing and how I’m supposed to be graded, but then again, it’s a new day, and it’s a new Chris.

  There are reasons for that.

  One in particular.

  I’m among the first to get to the class today. I take my regular seat, a second chair from the back row. Since the first day, we’ve all sat in the same seats, all seven of us. Thankfully there’s no Gus. That was my big fear. But I remembered who his father was and bet that he probably wouldn’t have to spend his summer mornings at school regardless of his grades.

  There weren’t any formal introductions to the kids in the class. There were only two I actually recognized. One who terrified me a bit until he started amusing me.

  And then …

  Well, I’ll get to that in a minute.

  Gin is in the back row, her monstrous black glasses and straight falling black hair hiding her face. I honestly don’t know yet if Gin can speak English. Or if her name is Gin or Jen or Ginny. Her last name is Chang or Wang or something like tha
t. The teacher said it quickly the first day, and that’s been that. I’m not sure if she’s Chinese or Japanese and whether this is all one big blur to her. Someone said they thought she was a freshman.

  So yeah, all I know is that she wears big glasses.

  The pudgy short kid with the red curly ’fro is Shawn. He’s a junior, and he’s just—Shawn. He’s that kid. The one everybody knows, nobody really loves, but everybody loves to not love. He makes you laugh, but he says the most outrageous stuff. You wonder what he’ll be doing when he grows up. Here in school, he can be dumb and say crazy things, but there’s no telling what the guy will do when he gets out of here.

  “Christopher,” he says to me in a Russian-sounding accent.

  No connection to anything. Probably some random thing going off in his head.

  Shawn sits in front of me, which is fine because that way I can avoid Mr. Taggart. Mr. Taggart is the last one to show up every day. Usually he stumbles in looking like he went to the same party my mother went to the night before. He’s mostly bald, with a nice thick mustache that looks two decades out of place and a nice thick belly that looks two belt sizes out of shape. They say he used to be the coach of the football team.

  These are things I hear mentioned casually. Like Gin being a freshman.

  The next to come in is the movie-star wannabe. Roger struts into the classroom as if it’s a red carpet and the paparazzi are out in full force. He smiles a crystal smile that shows through the airbrushed beard he’s got going on. I still haven’t quite figured out how he can cut it that short, so short it looks like shoe polish. His hair slants forward and upward in a faux-hawk style.

  Guy has to use a lot of gel to get his hair to do that.

  He fist-bumps Shawn, who idolizes the guy for some reason.

  Roger is a senior who needs this summer class to graduate. He says he’s going to the University of Southern California. I don’t know whether to believe him or not.

  But at least he’s not telling you he’s your cousin. That didn’t turn out so well, did it?

  “How’re we gonna kill three hours today?” Roger says to me.

  Roger’s one of those kids who doesn’t really talk with you. He talks at you. I shrug, because he’s not really looking for an answer.

  He looks at the quiet figure in the back. “Hey, Gin.”

  Roger’s not a bad guy. He’s just a politician. A politician or a

  Don’t say it