Ominous Love Read online

  Ominous Love

  By

  Patricia Puddle

  Copyright © 2012 Patricia Puddle.

  First Edition

  All rights reserved, including the rights to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever without the prior written consent of the copyright holder.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to my sweetheart, the teenage boy I married, my best friend and husband, whose endless support and encouragement has helped me to learn what I never learned at school. Thank you for doing all the cooking so I could write this book, honey.

  And of course, a big thank you to my wonderful writing pals: Chrissy Peebles, Elizabeth Swigar Imbesi, Irene Kueh, and Carol Ann Higgins Cajigas.

  This book contains sex scenes and violence and is aimed at adults and older teens or (New Adults). It is not recommended for younger teens or children.

  Chapter One

  I cling onto my seatbelt as we screech around a steep bend, the headlights cutting through the fog like a knife. Why on earth is Tom driving so fast when we can hardly see out the windscreen? A movement to the right catches my eye.

  “Watch out,” I yell as a kangaroo hops across the road in front of us.

  Tom hits the brakes, missing the animal by inches. “Jeez, that was close.”

  “Well, slow down,” I say, blowing out a big breath.

  He pulls up at the bottom of the valley and parks his Ford next to a decrepit, two-storey house. “It’s a bit hard to avoid wildlife in this neck of the woods, Elle. Anyway, we’re here now.”

  Though the house is old, the garden has neat flowerbeds and the path to the front door is peppered with tiny coloured solar lights. I step out into the damp air and glance around. The full moon is shining through the mist above a large lagoon at the side of the house. I shudder. What an eerie place.

  “Beautiful here, isn’t it?” says Tom, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “It used to be a dairy farm when my grandfather owned it.”

  I sniff the air, but can’t smell any manure. “Do you still have cattle?”

  “Not anymore.” He points to a bush track. “Wanna go for a stroll?”

  I stare at him. “No way. You’re just trying to creep me out.”

  He laughs. “Don’t worry. I'll protect you from werewolves.”

  Smiling, I jab him in the belly. “You're the only wolf around here, so who’s going to protect me from you?”

  “Aw, don't be like that, babe.” He pulls me close and brushes his lips across mine. “You know you love it when I kiss you,” he murmurs into my mouth.

  Leaning into his black leather jacket, I inhale his pungent cologne as I let him kiss me. An owl hooting from a nearby tree makes me flinch.

  Tom grabs my hand. “Come on. Let’s go indoors where it’s warmer.” He leads me up the driveway to the porch, but after opening the door, he pulls me inside and pins me against the wall. “Now, I've got you.”

  My heart jumps and I push at his chest. “Stop it,” I whisper. “Your mother will see us.”

  He grins teasingly, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “She can’t, she’s not here.”

  “What?” I scowl. “But you invited me here to meet her.”

  Bending over, he kisses my cheek. “You're so adoringly gullible, Eloise.”

  I squint at him. “You mean you tricked me?”

  “Well, not exactly,” he says, unbuttoning my jacket. “She’ll be home in a few hours.”

  “A few hours?” I slap his hand away and glance at my watch. “It’s eight o’clock already and I have to be home by nine.”

  “That’s okay, I’ll drive you. Just tell your folks you had dinner at my place.”

  “I can’t. My parents have gone away and they’re phoning me at nine.”

  “Can’t they call your cell?”

  I shake my head, wondering how he can be so dense. “No. They don’t want me out late while they’re away, stupid. That’s why they’re calling on the house phone—to check up on me. It was hard enough convincing them to let me stay on my own for two weeks.”

  His eyes grow wide. “You’re home alone for two weeks?”

  “Yeah, but they only agreed because I got that job at the pet shop.”

  “Okay, let’s watch a movie, and if my mother’s not here by eight-thirty, I’ll drive you home.”

  Taking my hand, he leads me up a rickety staircase and into a room. When he turns on the light, my stomach flips. Crap. It’s his bedroom. I glance nervously at the closed door. “Why don't we watch it downstairs?”

  He takes my bag and puts it on the floor. “Because there's more privacy in here if my mother turns up.”

  I bite my lip. “What will she think if she finds me in your room?”

  “Don't worry, babe, she won’t be home for hours. Anyway, we’ll hear her car pull up.” He shrugs out of his jacket, then helps me off with mine. After hanging them over a chair, he sits on his double bed and pulls me onto his lap. “It's a pity you start work on Monday. You'll miss out on our two-week break from school.”

  Gazing into his eyes, I brush his hair from his forehead. “I'm not going back to school. My job is permanent.”

  “Shucks, now I’ll never get to see you. I guess we’ll have to make up for it tonight.” He lifts me onto the bed and lies across me, crushing my ribs.

  Oh cripes. I should push him off, but he’s looking at me so lovingly and my heart is pounding. As his lips meet mine, I wrap my arms around his neck and close my eyes, but instead of his usual soft kiss, he’s pressing down hard and kissing me feverishly. His teeth are cutting into my lip and I can hardly breathe, but when I turn to gasp for air, he grabs my chin and kisses me harder. I’ve had enough. Shoving him away, I try to wriggle from under him. “Stop it, Tom.”

  Ignoring me, he pulls me back. Then as he holds my gaze, he shoves his hands under my jumper and fumbles with the fastener on my bra.

  I move his arms away. “Don't,” I murmur.

  “Oh, come on, babe,” he says huskily. “You know you like it.”

  My pulse quickens and I press at the firm muscles on his chest. “Get off me, you idiot.”

  He stares down at me. “You look hot when you're worked up.”

  “Well, you don't, so get off me.”

  His brown eyes gleaming, he thrusts his fingers through my hair and kisses me again. His tongue is in my mouth and I can't breathe. Squirming, I press my lips together and pound on his shoulders with my fists. He breaks away and looks at me. “Come on, Elle, you want this as much as I do.”

  “Want what?” I say. “That wasn't very romantic.”

  “Aww, you know I love you, and all that,” he whispers, kissing my neck.

  I twist away from him, then I sit up and kick him with my foot. “No I don’t. You only say it when you want something. And what’s with ‘all that’? You mean, ‘all that romantic bullshit’, don’t you?”

  He takes hold of my hand. “Come on, Elle, we’ve only got an hour or two. Don’t waste it. I promise to behave.”

  With a big sigh, I lay back on the pillow. “Well, put a movie on, then.”

  He leans across me and kisses my cheek, then he groans and his eyes glaze over. Suddenly he’s on top of me again, squashing me into the mattress and pulling at my clothes. I grapple with his hands, but he overpowers me and yanks my jumper over my head. I elbow him in the ribs, but as I wriggle from beneath him, he drags my skirt down. As I try to hitch it back up, he wrenches it from me, sending me toppling onto the carpet.

  “Your pr
omises suck,” I yell, leaping to my feet. “What is wrong with you? Give me my clothes back.”

  “Come and get them.” He grins wickedly and stuffs them under his quilt.

  My blood boiling, I snatch his iPad from his desk and run to the open window. As I dangle it outside, I smile. “Give me my clothes or I'll drop your precious iPad on the concrete driveway.”

  His eyes grow wide. “Don’t be stupid, babe.” He leaps off the bed and moves towards me. “Hand it over.”

  I jiggle it. “Come any closer and it goes to God.”

  He gulps, his Adam's apple moving in his throat. “Please, Elle. Don't drop it.”

  Holding my other hand out, I wriggle my fingers. “Give me my clothes, then.”

  “Okay,” he yells, but as he shoves his arm under his covers, he looks me up-and-down.

  I lean further out the window. “Do you have to perv on me?”

  “Oh, come on, Elle.” He passes me my clothes, but before I have a chance to give him the iPad, a loud bang comes from the next room.

  We both freeze.

  Holy crap. It must be his mother and she’ll think I’m a tart. After tossing the iPad on the rug, I run around in a circle, looking for somewhere to hide. As Tom peers out the door, I pull my clothes on, then sit on the bed and try to look normal.

  “Shit,” yells Tom, running out into the hallway.

  I grab my coat and bag and follow him.

  The window on the landing is broken and shards of glass are scattered all over the carpet. Bending over, Tom picks something up and laughs. “It's just a cricket ball, but it scared the crap out of me. I thought we'd been busted.”

  I shrug into my jacket. “What do you mean, we?”

  He wraps his arms around my waist and gives me his doe-eyed look. “I’m sorry, babe, I don't know what came over me. Honestly.”

  “You’re full of shit,” I say, pushing him away. “You’re a jerk, so don’t try your ‘sorry babe’ crap on me.” I thunder down the stairs and slam out the door. No way am I letting him drive me home. Who knows what he’ll do. I hurry out the driveway and onto the foggy street. Great, now I have to walk up a steep hill on a cold damp night.

  Tom leans out of his bedroom window and hollers, “Elle, wait. I'll take you home.”

  I give him the finger, then take off running. When I hear the slam of his front door, I run even faster. No way am I getting in his car. As I look for somewhere to hide, a bus rumbles up the street. Hoping I’ll be spotted in the fog, I stand in the middle of the road and wave my arms about. Luckily, the driver spots me and pulls up at the side of the road. I hurry up the steps and pay my fare, then I sit in the back seat and peer out the window.

  Tom is sprinting towards the moving bus, but as it speeds up, he stops and stands with his hands on his hips. I wave at him, then as he disappears into the fog, I see my reflection in the window and cringe. My hair is a tangled mess, thanks to him. As I comb it, I start thinking about the cricket ball and wonder who would be playing cricket on a night like this. It's too foggy too see anything, even in the oval with the spotlights on. I scowl. Maybe someone threw it at the house on purpose, but why? Surely no one could have known what Tom was doing? Unless he told one of his friends what he had planned. I scowl. What a jerk he’s turning out to be.

  Chewing the inside of my cheek, I glance at my watch. It's already 9:00 pm. Crap. My stomach churns. Hopefully, I'll get home before my mother calls. As the driver pulls up at my stop, I grab my bag and hurry down the steps onto the dark street. The fog is so thick I can hardly see in front of me. Shivering, I dash behind the bus and run across the road.

  Holy shit. The headlights of a vehicle are coming straight at me, and as I leap away, a loud whoosh whizzes past me, clipping the heel of my shoe. As I pray not to die, I fall in a heap on the concrete footpath and the contents of my bag spill out. Dazed, I inhale short raspy breaths as I start to hyperventilate. I check myself for broken bones, and though I don't have any, my shins hurt like hell. Groaning, I gather my things and shove them back into my purse.

  I scramble to my feet and look up and down the misty road. The bus has long gone and so has the car that hit me. The street is deathly quiet and the only light seems to come from a nearby house. I feel sick. I nearly lost my life at sixteen. How could I have been so stupid—to run out into dense mist without listening for cars? My heart thumping, I gaze up and though I can't see the sky, I thank my lucky stars that I'm still here on earth.

  With a grateful spring in my step, I march down the tree-lined street to my home. It's hard to imagine that in a split second, I could have been a goner. Jeez. It doesn't bear thinking about. Now, I can handle anything, even being on my own in our creepy old house for a fortnight. Though last night, I heard strange noises on the roof.

  As I reach our gate, something swoops above me and lands in a nearby tree. Blimey. It must be a huge bird to make a flapping sound like that. I look up at the branches, but I can’t see anything. As I get my keys out, I suddenly remember that it’s Friday the thirteenth and I chuckle into my hand. I know I’m superstitious, but there’s no wonder after what’s happened to me tonight. I’ll be glad when it’s midnight, then I’ll feel safe again.

  A twig snaps behind a bush, making me jump. I bolt up the wooden steps to the porch, but when I jam my key into the lock, it won't turn. Crap. Looking over my shoulder, I joggle it about until it finally clicks and the door opens. My hand still shaking, I switch on the light, chuck my bag on the rug and slam the door. What a scaredy cat I’m turning into. It was probably just a bandicoot or a bush rat foraging for food.

  Matilda meows, then saunters up to my leg and rubs against it. I pick her up and snuggle my face to her smoky black fur. “I'm glad you’re here to keep me company and protect me from bogeymen.” She leaps out of my arms and scoots to the kitchen, obviously wanting food.

  The phone rings and as I dash down the hall to answer it, I stumble over my bag. “H … hello,” I say, nearly dropping the handset.

  “Eloise, did you just get home?” asks my mother, suspiciously.

  “I tripped over my handbag,” I say, ignoring her question. “Are you at Nanna and Pop's already?”

  “Yes, we just arrived. How did your job at the pet shop go?”

  “Great. I had my trial today and I start on Monday.”

  “That's wonderful, love, but if it doesn't work out, let me know and I'll organise a plane ticket for you to join us.”

  I sigh. “Stop worrying, Mum. I'll be fine.”

  “Well, Dad and I do worry. We don't like you being on your own. Now, make sure you lock the doors and windows.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, Mum.”

  “Okay, I have to go now, but I'll call tomorrow. Goodbye, honey.”

  “Bye.” I hang up and leap in the air. “Yippee. I'm free for two glorious weeks. Now, I can have Brooke and Ruby over to stay. We can watch movies and play with our iPads all night long.” I skip to the kitchen and fill Matilda's bowl with cat mince. My stomach rumbles and I check the fridge for something to eat. Mm, Mum's cooked my favourite dinner—beef curry and rice. After warming it in the microwave, I sit at the kitchen table and ponder on the strange things that happened to me today. And I realise how lucky I am to be alive.

  No thanks to Tom turning weird on me. Shaking my head, I pick up my empty plate and take it to the sink. No wonder my parents worry so much. After tonight, I understand why, but if I tell them what happened, not only will they ban me from seeing Tom, they’ll have me on the next flight to Perth. Anyway, I'm so over Tom. He’s turned into a total ass.

  I take off to my bedroom to turn on my laptop. Tom's bound to have sent an email. Shoot. The server is down. No internet. Oh, well, maybe that's a good thing because I'm too tired to chat to my friends after my long day, and I'd only send Tom a nasty message. What a rat bag, and to think I liked him. Yawning, I kick my shoes off and take my stretchy animal-print pyjamas out of my drawer, but before I have a chance to go for my s
hower, a flash of lightning illuminates my room. As a loud crack of thunder rattles the house, Matilda scurries under my bed.

  I dash to the window and peer out. The fog has lifted and there's an amazing electrical storm flickering and zigzagging through the clouds. A lightning bolt flashes above the shed, illuminating the garden. Holy crap! Did I just see the shape of a man underneath the gum tree next to the house? Shoot. He seemed to be staring at me. Is someone stalking me? Chewing my knuckle, I stare out, but it's too dark to see anything. Thunder roars above the house, shaking the windowpane. I drop my PJ's on the rug and wait for the next surge of lightning, but when it hits, there's no one there. The shape I saw was too tall to be Tom, so it couldn't be him. Then I remember the twig breaking in the front garden and a little shiver runs down my spine. Too creepy. My heart thumping against my ribs, I press my forehead against the windowpane and look down the side of the house, but it's too dark to see anything. Hopefully, I imagined the whole thing, but what if there’s a serial killer hiding in the bushes? Shuddering, I draw the curtains.

  Chapter Two

  Jeez, I never thought I'd miss my parents on my first night alone. What a big baby I am, and now I'm imagining strange men in our garden like I did when I was little. A fallen branch suddenly crashes against the tin roof and rolls down the side of the house. I jerk with fright. Crap. The storm is getting worse. Lightning flares outside the window and a cool draft whistles through a small crack in the ceiling. Shivering, I pull my clothes off and toss them in a heap on the carpet. I wish Mum and Dad would sell this rickety old house and move to a safer one. I can't wait to get under my doona just to be warm again. When the light goes out for a second, I decide to have a shower straight away. Relying on electric pumps and rainwater is a pain when storms cause power failures, especially when you can’t flush the loo.

  Grabbing my pyjamas, I dash to the bathroom and open the window so the steam doesn’t set off the smoke alarm. As I peek outside, I pray there’s no weirdos out there. But just in case, I'm letting Matilda sleep on my bed tonight. I drop my PJ’s on the floor and hop in the shower.