CHAPTER 6
Payton ducked under the stream of hot water in the shower. He shut his eyes and let the water pound against his eyelids. What a day he’d had. In the morning, he’d felt like some remote-controlled robot, drawn mindlessly toward the girl. He hadn’t fully considered what might happen. He’d been following her for days, though, so he realized that in some way, he was deliberately asking for pain.
The entire time, he’d thought she could sense she was being followed. She’d look around, puzzled, then go back to what she was doing. But he hadn’t let her see him. Hadn’t given her a chance. Then the feeling started growing more intense. The pain, the fire, that devoured him every time he got close to her, was rising higher and higher. It had been so long since he had felt something, anything, that the pain he was experiencing—so strong it could take his breath away—felt like a powerful drug. He didn’t know where the pain was coming from, but he was determined to find out.
He had watched her get on the tour bus. Then he got in his car—he’d decided not to take his motorcycle—and followed her. He thought about how it might all play out. Clearly, something big had happened to him. He wasn’t hollow anymore. But while he was glad to feel sensations, the pain when he was near her was barely tolerable. It was taking a toll, draining him of his strength. When he thought back to the day she had touched him while on his motorcycle, the torment still hit him like lightning.
The pain. That probably explained why he lost control of his motorcycle the first time he saw her. And that had been the only reason he had stopped and looked back.
Despite the hot shower, Payton had goose bumps. When had he last had goose bumps, he asked himself. 1740?
He soaped up vigorously, trying to scrub off the confusion flowing through him. Earlier, when he saw her climb up the monument, he had wondered whether he could stand being so near to her. He had climbed up after her, shaking and afraid.
She was standing in the sun. Her hair was shining golden and her face was in the shadows. Although he’d been following her for days, he had never really seen her properly. And now her back was to him again. He was grateful for that because the hot pain that seared through his body seemed to be increasing, like he might suddenly explode. He took several deep breaths before he regained control. His hands curled into fists. After a few minutes, he could breathe a little more easily, and he knew he could bear the pain—if only for a short time. But she mustn’t, for God’s sake, come any closer. Then something unexpected—but he supposed, inevitable—happened. She looked at him, and she laughed.
That face, he thought. Could it really be true?
No, he said to himself. He had to be mistaken. That was impossible—absolutely impossible! And yet, it would explain everything.
So from then on, there had only been one option for him: stand up to fate and find out everything he could about her.
Payton turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his hips.
She had also felt something, he was sure. Something more than pure curiosity. That had become clear when she agreed to take a walk with him, and later when she decided he could drive her home.
He went through all the times they had touched that day. The first time, on the monument, it was like brushing against a hot iron, and he had instinctively pulled his hand back. Even long after she let go, his skin still burned where her fingers had been. But if he moved back a little, the burning died down and became more of a steady pressure on his body instead. As long as he kept a safe distance, he thought he could be close to her. Sitting near her on the rock was warm, but not burning. Actual contact, though—like when she’d taken his hand at the stream—that was too much. Even the icy water didn’t ease the painful scorch of her touch.
He was almost crazy with fear when he’d imagined sitting in his car with her. He wasn’t sure why he’d offered her a ride.
But during the drive, he conjured up almost superhuman strength, so much so that he’d actually enjoyed it. Other than his family, she was the first person he had talked to in a long time. And he’d been ridiculously happy when she asked whether they would see each other again.
He would gladly see her—for a number of reasons. But most importantly, he needed to answer one question: What the hell was wrong with him?
Payton saw her stumble. Just like in his memory. She wobbled backward. He wanted to act, but he was paralyzed. He needed to move, to help her, but his body would simply not obey. Reaching out too late, he grabbed desperately for her falling body. Her scream penetrated his whole body. At the last second, he caught her arm. He saw her panic, the fear of death in her eyes. Green eyes, like emeralds, opened so wide with fear. He could feel her fingers slip through his hands. He tried to pull her back over the balustrade. Inch by inch, she slid out of his grasp, and with a sudden release, she lost her hold and fell into the depths.
His own tormented yell woke him, shaking from the nightmare. He sat in his bed, trembling. He had known it. The similarity was unbelievable—obviously more than a coincidence. He really was damned.
My neck crawled with a shivery feeling. I couldn’t believe I was betraying Alison and Roy. They hadn’t reacted that well the night before, when they found out I’d gotten a ride from Payton instead of taking the bus. Alison, in particular, seemed to know something was up. She kept prodding, despite my explanations. Who was this friend, she wanted to know, and how had I met him? She wondered if she should allow me to go on the tour the next day. It was an overnight trip, she pointed out, and she wasn’t sure she fully trusted me.
“Don’t you realize that we are responsible for your safety?” she asked. “We’d never forgive ourselves if something should happen to you.”
In the end, I managed to convince them that it wouldn’t happen again. I swore that I’d be fine on the two-day excursion, that they had nothing to fear.
So the next morning I got on the bus, waved out the window like a good girl, and waited until we were several miles down the road.
It was time to improvise.
“Oh no…” I moaned. I held my stomach with one hand and put the other hand in front of my mouth. “I feel like I’m going to be sick.”
I put a lot of effort into the show, making some realistic gagging sounds. A woman two seats in front of me looked around, alarmed, and called out to the driver to stop the bus.
Trying to look exhausted and weak, I put my head back against my seat. Another woman offered me something to drink and stroked my head. I ramped up the gagging sounds, and when the bus finally stopped, I hurried outside.
The driver, our tour guide, and the lady with the soda all followed right behind me.
“What shall we do?” Soda Lady wanted to know.
“Turn back,” the driver said drily.
“But we’ll miss the ferry!” the tour guide said.
“Yes, but I’d rather that than have her vomit all over my bus.”
Crying, I bent farther over the bush, which I was apparently going to throw up into any second now.
“Oh, please. I don’t want all of you to miss the ferry to the Isle of Harris because of me.” I tried to make my voice sound as sincere as possible. I looked sadly at the woman, and I could tell she didn’t want to wait for the next ferry.
“You certainly cannot come along on an overnight trip if you are feeling unwell,” said my tour guide. “What if you get worse?”
“No, of course. You should go without me. I’ll call home to get someone to come and pick me up.”
I rummaged around in my backpack.
My three guardians looked at each other slightly confused until Soda Lady nodded decisively.
“Do you want me to make the call to your parents, love?” she asked. “You’ll be better off at home resting, and we could still make it for the ferry in time.”
I opened up my phone and typed in a number. After a few seconds, my bank’s automatic account information system started talking to me.
“Welcome to…”
“Hello, Alison?” I put on my best I’m-not-feeling-well voice. “I’m so sorry to bother you. I started to feel sick on the bus, and I need to come home. Can you pick me up? I’m only at the next village.”
“To check your account balance, please press…”
“Thanks, Alison. I’m really sorry about this… I’m standing right by the main road… Yes, see you soon.”
I put the phone back in my bag.
“My host family is coming to get me. You can go on. I’ll be fine.”
“Is it really OK to leave you here?” the bus driver asked. He seemed worried that it might be against company policy.
“Sure, Alison will be here in about twenty minutes.” I held my hand in front of my mouth again and pulled out one last gagging fit, for good measure.
“Please, go,” I pleaded. “I really don’t want you all to see what I had for breakfast.”
“Get well soon, love.” The woman patted me on the back before she hurried toward the bus. “Come on,” she said to the others. “Let’s go or we’ll miss the ferry.”
A minute later the bus disappeared around the corner.
I got out my phone again and tapped in different numbers. My fingers were shaking. That had been more difficult than I had anticipated.
“Hi! I’ve escaped. Are you ready to pick me up?”
Even through the telephone, the sound of Payton’s voice had me spellbound.
My heart was beating wildly and I was delighted when he promised to be with me in a moment. I giggled. Yes, Scotland was definitely piquing my interest—even if it wasn’t in the way my parents and Mr. Schneider had hoped.