The Guardian

The

Guardian

By Freia Hagen

Copyright © 2013 Freia Hagen

Published by Freia Hagen

Smashwords Edition

Cover by Claudia @ selfpubbookcovers.com

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase n additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Intro to Fire and Ice

Chapter 1

I chose one of the seats at the very back of the bus. Thankfully it was one of those coach style buses so the seats were pretty comfortable. I remembered when we were in elementary school having to ride the school bus when we went on field trips. Yuck.

I put my backpack on the floor at my feet before I settled into my seat. Ahead of me, coming down the aisle, I saw Michelle headed my way. I couldn’t help noticing that she looked tiny compared to most of the other students (not that this is the first time I'd noticed it). Her petite, five foot two inch frame squeezed past a tall skinny guy in the aisle a few seats ahead of where I sat. He checked out her ass as she pushed past him. Not that she cared. Michelle usually took little notice of the average guy checking her out. Let's just say, her expectations were pretty high in that department. She threw her backpack into the seat next to mine, unzipped it, and rummaged through it quickly. She took out a small box wrapped in black shiny paper with a purple bow on top.

Happy birthday, Lyss! She turned to me and shoved the box in my direction. As much as I hated the fact that she even acknowledged that it was my birthday, much less gave me a present, I couldn’t say anything because the look on her face was so lit up and happy. So, instead, I reached for the box.

You really shouldn't have, I said. I mean, really.

Open it, she gestured to the box.

I pulled the paper off the box and lifted the top off it. I took the present out and looked at it, actually feeling a little choked up for a minute. I stared at the tiny crystals intertwined in delicate silver forming a bracelet. The sun coming through the windows caused the crystals to shoot sparkles all around the seats. It really was beautiful. I opened the clasp and put the chain around my wrist.

So, do you like it? Michelle asked, her brilliant green eyes genuinely curious.

It's so pretty! I love it! And I wasn’t lying. Normally I didn't go for the feminine, dainty jewelry. But something about those sparkly crystals I just loved.

Michelle and I had been friends for so long that we might as well be sisters. We had grown up together since we were in diapers.

As the bus engine roared to life and we pulled out of the parking lot of the school I put my earbuds in my ears and cranked up the tunes on my iPod. After a few minutes on the highway I closed my eyes and let my mind wander.

*****

I was lying on the couch and I could hear the phone ringing, but it was too hard to bring myself fully out of my nap. In another room my mom picked up the phone. I couldn't hear what she was saying but I could tell from the sound of her voice something was wrong. The pitch of her voice rose, almost to the point of panic. I struggled to try and open my eyes but my eyelids felt like they were glued shut. After several minutes I was able to get them open enough to see through my lashes. It was like pulling myself out of a thick fog. My mom's voice got quieter and I heard her crying. Not just crying, but sobbing, like she couldn't control it. My eyes snapped open and I jumped up from the couch following the sound of her sobs. I found her in the sunroom kneeling on the floor; her upper body leaned over with her face in her hands. The phone sat in front of her beeping.

Mom! I said, still trying to clear the fog out of my head and figure out what the hell was going on. I heard the panic in my voice.

At first she didn't look at me, as if she didn't realize I was standing there calling to her. Then, after a few moments she looked up at me. My breath caught in my throat. Her face was a mask of grief I had never seen before. I felt my heart take a nose dive into my gut. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. I felt fear hit me like a freight train. I was scared to know. I was scared to hear the words I could see forming on her lips.

He's gone, she simply said. I couldn't wrap my mind around what she was talking about. He's gone. Repeating the words didn't serve to clear things up, and I'm sure I had the most confused look on my face. Mom got up and walked over to me. Sweetheart... I could tell she was trying to lead me over to one of the loveseats in the sunroom. She was preparing to tell me something painful and she was trying to set it up so I could take it. Honey, daddy was in an accident. He didn't survive.

I was numb. Paralyzed. My mind reeled and screamed for me to get up and run from this place. Run from the words she'd spoken. Run from the train headed directly at me. He's gone...Daddy...Accident...Didn't survive. And that was it. I jumped up and ran, slamming the back door open, thrusting open the gate and sprinted out of the back yard down the street, my legs pumped harder and harder with every step. I had no idea where I was going. I only knew I had to get as far away from those words as fast as I could.

*****

I felt a tap on my left shoulder. I jumped a little and looked up to see Michelle giving me a worried look. I gave her a questioning expression as if to say What? She gave me another look and I realized she was wondering if I was ok. Great. Now she would be all worried about me all day. I realized I had dozed off and must've been making some weird facial expressions or something. Michelle knew exactly what had been playing through my mind.

I pulled one of the earbuds out of my ear. I'm fine, I said with an even voice. She gave me a quick look like she wasn’t sure she was convinced, then nodded and turned back to the magazine she was reading. I put my earbud back into my ear and looked out the window. The surrounding landscape faded out of my immediate consciousness as my thoughts traveled back...

*****

I practically fell onto the merry go round; my lungs felt like they were going to rupture and my leg muscles burned. I looked around at the swing sets, slides, and monkey bars. The memories came rushing back like a dam that had burst open. It was as though I was seeing everything right in front of me. I could see myself. Well, myself when I was five. I was sitting on the swing and my dad was pushing me higher and higher. I giggled each time I came swooping back down and he tickled me before giving another push. I flew upward feeling the wind swooshing around me. Then another scene where I was on my bicycle, my dad had just removed the training wheels. I was wearing a bright pink and purple bike helmet, knee and elbow pads, and I was fidgeting with the sparkly tassels on my handle bars nervously. My dad was explaining to me that I could do it and that he wouldn't let go of the bike. He’d be right there. He had a huge smile and was clapping when I finally was able to ride the bike by myself along the sidewalk. Next, I saw him looking at me calmly when my thirteen year old self was throwing a fit because he wouldn't let me go with my friends to a heavy metal concert. I was yelling how it wasn't fair, that Ashley's parents were letting her go, that I was old enough. But he didn't get mad. He just waited until I was done with my teenage temper tantrum and gently told me that he knew I didn't like it, but that one day I'd understand. I stomped off to my room to fume. At sixteen, I was devastated by getting my heart broken by Jason Ruder, my first real boyfriend and love of my life. My father sat next to me on my bed with his arm around my shoulder as I cried for what seemed like eternity. He defended me saying that Jason was an idiot to let go of such a beautiful and special girl. He tried to convince me that it was Jason's loss, not mine. And then I saw yesterday. I had received my college acceptance letter and I ran to tell him. He grabbed me into a bear hug and told me how proud of me he was.

My mind came back to the merry go round and I realized I was looking down at my hands in my lap, my palms moist with tears. The tears were still coming. My chest felt tight and I was certain I wouldn't be able to stand it, that my heart was going to implode. I didn't know how long I'd been sitting there, but the sky had gotten almost dark and the air was cooling down fast. It must've been a couple of hours. With an enormous amount of effort I stood up and walked back home. As I approached the front porch the dread settled in.

Over the next few days I walked around in a daze. I knew there was a whirlwind of activity going on around me. My aunt, my mother's sister, was there along with half our family from both sides. Everyone was gathering around us trying to help make arrangements, cooking, cleaning, whatever needed to be done so that my mother wouldn't be burdened with anything. I spent most of my time in my room. Michelle came over to keep me company but I didn't say much. She just sat with me. What else could she do? On the day of the funeral I moved around like a robot. I was vaguely aware of people offering me condolences. My mom was inconsolable. When I looked into her eyes as we stood in front of my dad's casket I could see she was lost. My dad was the center of her universe and he was gone. And I could see that she was, too.

At the graveside I watched as they lowered my dad's casket into the ground. That's when I felt the iron box snap shut around my heart. That's when everything within me shifted.

Two weeks later my mom overdosed on some kind of anxiety medicine and I found her cold and motionless in her bed. That was six months ago.

*****

My mind snapped back to the present. No way could I keep this train of thought going. I reached down into my backpack and pulled out a bag of Doritos. I offered some to Michelle and she grabbed a handful out of the bag.

I know where you were, she said somberly.

I just looked at her. It didn't ever surprise me that she practically always knew what I was thinking. Although, considering the somewhat recent tragedy that had become my life, I guess it wasn't too hard to figure out what was usually on my mind. When I returned to school after my parents died I’d felt like a complete freak show (more so than usual, that is). Walking down the halls I could feel the looks of pity from other students. In class, my teachers would watch me with the saddest eyes when they thought I wasn't looking. Thankfully, the teenage mind only gives attention to some sort of major event long enough to make it to the next. So, after a few weeks, the normal social drama finally took over center stage, much to my relief. The pitiful looks were only serving to be a constant reminder of the loss I was facing. The only person who treated me normal was Michelle, my best friend.

After a day of entertainment at Medieval Times in Myrtle Beach, we got back on the bus to head back to Charleston. It was September and the temperatures were still warm, so the cool AC of the bus was relief from the hot parking lot where we were forced to stand while the teachers made sure we were all accounted for. Michelle and I made our way back to our seats at the back of the bus and settled in for the long ride home.

Ugh. I dread having to sit on this bus for another two hours, she said, as she searched her bag for one of the gazillion magazines she’d brought with her.

I shrugged. Beats having to sit in school all day. The truth was, I really didn't care what we did. It all felt the same to me. Get up, Go about my day. Come home. Go about my evening. Go to bed. Each day was pretty much the same.

*****

After my parents died the question of what to do with myself overrode everything else. I mean, it wasn’t like I was a little kid. Yet I wasn't an adult either. I still had six months until I turned eighteen. The attorney explained to me that my dad's will left everything to my mom. And, in the event they both died their entire estate was to go to me. It may seem callous to talk about such things so soon after losing one's parents, and believe me, when the subject first came up I was completely uninterested. I’d always known that my parents were wealthy. It just never seemed all that important to me. I mean, what did I know (or care) about all that financial stuff? That was their stuff to deal with. My priorities were hanging out with my best friend, school, checking out hot guys, getting a driver's license, and all the other stuff that goes with being a teenager. On April 17th all that changed, of course. My aunt wanted me to come stay with her. But, there was no way I could leave my home, my life, everything to move to Atlanta. So after much bickering round and round and round I finally insisted upon emancipation. Ok, not insisted exactly. I kind of went into bitch mode (understatement) when my aunt tried to gain control. I'm pretty sure I scared the crap out of her, actually. Oops.

The thing about me was this: although I made good grades (not that it was all that difficult) and I generally stayed out of trouble, I seemed to have a bit of an attitude problem or something. It wasn’t like I tried to, it just happened. I liked to think of myself as honest to a fault. Most other people found me to be a little intimidating. So, when my aunt tried to take me away from my home I basically turned up the intimidating volume on her. I never would have actually hurt her. We were fighting about the aforementioned subject in the hallway upstairs when out of nowhere I just grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her against the wall. Ok, I could see how that sounded really bad. But, I swear I didn't mean to. It just sort of happened. The screaming and cussing at her prior to that I own, but I don't know where the physical stuff came from. I just remembered seeing her eyes go wide in fear before I backed away from her. By that night she was packed and heading out of the driveway to go home. At first I thought she was going to call some sort of juvenile agency to pick me up and haul me off to a group home. But, she didn't. She just left. I sent her a bunch of emails telling her how sorry I was, but she never replied.

So, between my parents' attorney, the housekeeper/nanny, Liza, and myself we decided that I would stay where I was. And, even though my parents left behind a very sizable estate, enough for me to live comfortably for the rest of my life probably, I still planned to go to college in the Fall and try to make something of my pathetic life.

When word got around that I was basically free to do whatever I wanted I was approached by more than a handful of classmates asking me how cool it was, and did I have parties at my house, go out until whenever, etc. I'm pretty sure I told at least a half dozen people to fuck off over all that. I mean, how shallow could they be? All I wanted was my parents back. The rest of it, well, it was just nothing at all. And the iron box just kept getting thicker and thicker. The only person even remotely able to reach me was Michelle.

*****

Riding down highway 17 on our way back to Charleston the setting sun was turning the sky a myriad of colors from pinks, yellows, and oranges to blues and purples. I couldn't help being mesmerized by it as I stared out the window. Out of nowhere I heard the loud screeching of tires on the asphalt road; the bus began to sway dangerously to the side, and in an instant the sound of crunching metal combined with screaming. The impact caused the bus to roll over. How many times, I had no idea, but those few seconds dragged into an eternity. Screaming, scraping metal, the horn of another (large) vehicle, people being thrown out of their seats. Michelle and I grabbed onto each others' seats and held on for dear life. A girl with auburn hair was thrown around the bus like a rag doll, her body hit the roof, then the windows, then back down to the floor. As the bus landed hard on its tires I was thrown out of my seat and into the aisle, my head violently connecting with a metal bar with a sound that made my stomach turn. As my vision faded I was certain that this was the end for me, and realized, strangely, I wasn’t afraid of that prospect. Then the world went black.

Chapter 2

Everything was sideways. My head was screaming in pain and I couldn't bear to lift it off the floor. A layer of fog had settled over my vision so that nothing was in focus. I was staring down the length of the bus aisle. I could vaguely make out an object a few feet ahead of me, a bright green backpack with Sharpie drawings on the outside of it. The silence was deafening and darkness was beginning to descend as the sun set. I tried to get my bearings but the shooting pain in my head made it difficult to think. Unable to move, unable to scream I laid there helplessly and wished someone, anyone would come and help. I closed my eyes and waited for whatever was going to happen.

I sensed the light before I actually saw it. I had no idea how long I'd been lying on the floor. The glow coming through my eyelids woke me up. I opened my eyes slowly and felt the sharp stabbing in my skull as the light got brighter. This must be it, I thought. I must be dying. The rescuers must not have reached us in time. That's when I saw it; a slow, steady movement in the aisle toward the front of the bus. I squinted my eyes trying to bring my surroundings into focus. Someone stepped out of the glowing light and fog. His strides were purposeful and should have been moving him much faster. But he seemed to be moving in slow motion. From my vantage point on the floor he looked like he was ten feet tall. He was dressed in all black; black shirt, black pants, black motorcycle-type boots and a long black trench coat that waved around him as if a fan was blowing on him. His hair was long, definitely past his shoulders. I couldn't make out his facial features, the light behind him left his face in shadow. And, then he was there, standing right in front of me, his boots inches from my face. He leaned down over me. I was vaguely aware that I was moving my lips, Help me! Please help me! But no sound was coming out of my mouth. My eyes were wide, begging. He leaned his head down to look in my eyes and that's when I was convinced I was dying. I mean, duh...glowing light, slow motion guy, no sound. Do I really need to go on?

You are not dying. I heard the words in my mind, the voice deep, warm, and soft. The pain inside my head was extinguished immediately. He reached toward me and gently rubbed his thumb across my forehead and my vision cleared. When I looked at his face for a moment I couldn't breathe. His eyes were like golden honey, warm and slightly glowing with a rich amber illumination. His face was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life. He appeared to be not much older than me, but in his eyes he was older. I was completely transfixed. Surely he must have been an angel, which brought me back to my prior conclusion that I was dying. You are not dying, Alyssa. The words in my mind repeated. Only this time they were directed at me specifically and I knew with utmost certainty that the voice was his even though his lips never moved. He smiled and nodded slightly as if to indicate that I was right. Which, of course, made my heart start to go crazy because, first off, his smile was so amazing and I was pretty sure I'd never seen any guy that gorgeous; and secondly, um, hello?...how crazy was the idea of someone being able to read my mind?! He chuckled a little and I was instantly embarrassed. Oh shit! I was so busted. And I was pretty sure I was losing it. I mean, there I was lying on the floor of a bus with a busted head after being in a nasty crash lusting over some smoking hot mystery guy (who can read my thoughts, no less) staring down at me. Yep. Definitely crazy. You are not crazy. You are not dying. But, you need to rest. Help is on the way. You are safe now. He leaned down and very gently kissed my forehead. You are safe.

And, in the distance I heard the sirens. Then everything was dark and I drifted away.

*****

I opened my eyes and unfortunately was staring up at a cold fluorescent light above me. I looked around and saw that I was in a hospital room. To my right were some machines with tubes and blinking lights. Beyond that was a door that I assumed led to a bathroom. The window along the wall exposed the view of other parts of the hospital. The sun was shining but I couldn't tell what time of day it was, or what day, for that matter. Beyond the end of my hospital bed was a sink. Next to it was a red plastic container attached to the wall along with boxes of plastic gloves suspended in a metal frame. On my left I saw a chair. One of those ones that looked like it would be comfortable until you sat down in it and realized the vinyl seat wasn't nearly as cushiony as it appeared. The door to the hallway was by the chair and was cracked open a couple of inches, not really providing much of a view into the hall. The room was actually a good size, although I wasn’t too excited about the mauve wallpaper, but I guess it's supposed to be soothing or something. In my right arm was an IV with clear liquid flowing slowly into it. My left arm was heavily bandaged as was my head and I felt panic until I reached back and felt my hair on my neck. Whew! I’d seen enough medical shows to know that sometimes when someone got a head injury they had to shave the patient's head. And, though I'm not vain, I did love my long hair.

The door opened and I looked up to see Liza carrying a cup of coffee. She looked at me, her face lit up with a big smile stretched across her mouth. You're awake! Oh thank goodness, she gushed. She set her cup down on the rolling table and came over to my bed and picked up my left hand as she sat on the side of the bed. Liza had been working for my parents forever. She was a middle aged woman with dark tan skin, brown eyes and long brown hair that she usually wore up in a bun or braid. I guess most people would consider her to be a housekeeper/nanny. To me, she was just really cool. My mom was never really the mothering type, always preferring her social life over domestic life. Don't get me wrong, she wasn't mean or snobby or anything like that. She just wasn't good at nurturing. She adored my dad, that much was always obvious. So, Liza spent a lot of time taking care of me while I was growing up.

Liza was kind hearted and fair. But, she was no doormat. In fact, she could be tough as nails when she needed to be. I think it was her Latino blood that made her so strong. I couldn’t help laughing when she would get angry and switched between English and Spanish as she ranted about something. But, right then her eyes were soft and filled with concern mixed with relief.

How long have I been out? I asked her.

Since they found you and brought you here yesterday, she replied. I sighed a little in relief. At least I hadn't been unconscious for days or weeks or anything like that. Then I jerked straight upright, panic hit me hard.

Michelle! Where is Michelle?! I could hear the fear in my voice.

Liza squeezed my hand gently. Don't worry, Lyssa, she is just fine. Better than you, in fact. I leaned back against the pillows as relief washed over me. She only has some bruises and cuts. She's already gone home. But, she wanted me to let you know that she plans to come see you later today.

I'm so glad. I was so freaked out that she might be in a coma or dead even. Liza looked away and started picking at the edge of the starched white blanket. What? I asked.

Now is not the time. We can talk later. She shook her head a little. You need to rest.

A nurse came into the room, interrupting my opportunity to ask any more questions. Ah, she's awake! the nurse exclaimed pleasantly. How are you feeling? She started fidgeting with one of the machines by my bed, checked the tubing connected to my IV, and jotted down something on the clipboard in her hands.

I'm ok, I replied.

Any pain? she asked, motioning to my head.

No. Which, when I thought about it was actually a little surprising considering how hard I’d hit my head.

Well, everything here is looking good. She waved her hand toward the machines. She came over and checked my pupils with a flashlight, made sure my dressings looked ok, and then said, You’re a very lucky girl. All your head scans came back normal. You didn't break any bones (although I was sure I heard my skull crack when I hit that bar). You had to have quite few stitches in your arm and on the side of your head. And when you came in you had lost a lot of blood, so we had to give you a couple of units. But your labs are looking good, your vitals are stable, and it looks like you're going to be fine. The doctor will be in later today. In the meantime, if you need anything just use the call button. She tidied up around the sink before heading back out into the hall.

I looked back at Liza who was now sitting in the chair to my left sipping her coffee. I want to go home, I said. And at that moment I was overwhelmed by just how much I meant it.

I know, Lyssa. Hopefully you won't have to stay here very long. She smiled and patted my hand.

By late afternoon I was bored out of my skull watching TV and I was pretty much getting stir crazy when Michelle came into my room holding an obnoxious bouquet of multicolored balloons. Lyss!!! she squealed, hurried over to me setting the balloons off to the side and jumped onto my bed and hugged me.

I hugged her back hard. Ok, ok, I said, trying to sound smothered. I'm glad you're here but could you let me breathe? I loved Michelle to pieces, but I could only take so much affection, even from her.

Oh yeah, sorry. She sat on the end of my bed with her legs crossed facing me. I'm just so glad you're ok. Oh my god, you should've seen your head! Blood everywhere! The worry coming off her was palpable.

Awesome. Glad I missed that. I reached up and touched the bandage on my head. It was pretty scary huh?

She nodded. Did you hear about Angela Mitchell? I shook my head. I knew Angela. Not really well, but I knew who she was. She was the auburn haired girl. The one I saw being thrown around the bus before I blacked out. A feeling of dread started curling around in my gut.

Is she dead? It's like I knew that she was, but I couldn't make myself believe it unless I heard it.

Yeah. She is. Michelle looked down at her hands in her lap. Lyss, it was so awful. Her parents looked so devastated. My eyes stung at the sadness in her voice.

For two more hours we talked and hung out. By the time Michelle had to leave the sun was starting to go down and I felt pretty tired. So she hugged me and promised to come back the next day before she left. While watching yet another Law and Order rerun, I dozed off.

*****

I walked into the house and set my backpack on the floor in the foyer. An overwhelming sense of 'not right' washed over me. It was too quiet.

Liza! I called out. No response.

I walked slowly up the grand staircase. It was like my legs were being guided