Read Online Cursed by Jennifer L. Armentrout - Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer L. Armentrout
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of warped my artistic flavor.
Unwillingly, my gaze fell back to my phone. I wanted to call Adam, but what would I tell him? I had no idea. So I took a shower, a really long, scalding hot shower. I washed my hair twice. Even after I’d scrubbed myself raw and ruddy-colored, I still had no idea what to tell Adam—or what to do.
Wrapped in a fluffy red robe that clashed horribly with my hair, I stood in front of the closet. Cautiously, I opened the doors… and then stared in open wonder while the girl in me squealed.
Mingled in with my old clothes were various shirts, dresses, jeans, and sweaters that I could never have afforded in a million and two years. Shoes and boots filled the closet floor, next to what appeared to be a new backpack—one that wasn’t as dirty and ragged as the one Dad had gotten me before the accident. I searched for it, but the one thing tying me to Dad was gone.
Feeling numb, I grabbed a pair of sweats and a bulky sweater. After changing, I picked up my phone, the sketchpad, and a new pencil. As I opened the balcony door, the breezy perfume of pine and earthy rich soil filled me. I took a deep breath and shivered. It was cooler, much cooler, than the last time I’d been outside.
Paying no attention to how the air attached itself to my wet curls, I took in my surroundings. The balcony appeared to wrap around the side of the house, but I wasn’t brave enough to explore where it led. I approached the railing and looked over. A strong sense of vertigo pushed me back from the railing. I hated heights, absolutely despised anything taller than me.
I planted myself against the wall before I looked around again. Trees and, well, more trees surrounded the house. Some were ancient-looking pines, and others looked like oak and maple, but I could never tell the difference between them. It wasn’t the trees that caused my grip to loosen around the phone, however. Rising up into the sky like a jagged set of uneven fingers was a mountain the color of sand and granite. The sheer size of the thing cast deep and unforgiving shadows over most of the thick forest, turning the woods into something desolate and intimidating. I could easily imagine people going in there and never being seen again—getting lost and then eaten by a bear or something.
I swallowed down panic and flipped open the cell. Several missed calls and voicemails greeted me. I dialed Adam’s number.
He answered on the second ring. “Ember! Where in the hell are you? What happened to you? I’ve called you a million times. Hey! Are you there?”
“Yeah,” I croaked out. “I’m here.”
A sigh of relief was audible. “Damn, Em, where are you? You disappeared from school on Wednesday—Wednesday, Em. Without so much as a heads-up. And I haven’t seen you since.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” He paused, and I could picture him staring at the phone dumbfounded. “Em, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
The words just tumbled out. “No. I’m not okay.”
“What do you mean? Em, what is going on?”
“I’m in this place, Adam. With these people I don’t know, and I don’t know what to do.”
There was a stretch of silence. “Em, have you’ve been kidnapped or something?”
I started to laugh, because it sounded ridiculous, but what came out sounded more like a sob. Then I was crying, the kind of deep sobs that stole my breath and hurt. I never cried, not like this and not in front of Adam.
“Em, tell me where you are. I’m going to the call the police,” he said in rush. “Just tell me where you are.”
“You can’t call the police. You don’t understand, Adam,” I said, running my hand over my face. “You never knew. I never told you.”
“Knew what? You’re not making sense. Are you in danger?”
“I don’t know. Yes. No. Probably. But you can’t call the police, Adam. You have to promise me.”
There was another long gap of silence. “Okay. I won’t call the police. Where are you?”
“Um, in
Unwillingly, my gaze fell back to my phone. I wanted to call Adam, but what would I tell him? I had no idea. So I took a shower, a really long, scalding hot shower. I washed my hair twice. Even after I’d scrubbed myself raw and ruddy-colored, I still had no idea what to tell Adam—or what to do.
Wrapped in a fluffy red robe that clashed horribly with my hair, I stood in front of the closet. Cautiously, I opened the doors… and then stared in open wonder while the girl in me squealed.
Mingled in with my old clothes were various shirts, dresses, jeans, and sweaters that I could never have afforded in a million and two years. Shoes and boots filled the closet floor, next to what appeared to be a new backpack—one that wasn’t as dirty and ragged as the one Dad had gotten me before the accident. I searched for it, but the one thing tying me to Dad was gone.
Feeling numb, I grabbed a pair of sweats and a bulky sweater. After changing, I picked up my phone, the sketchpad, and a new pencil. As I opened the balcony door, the breezy perfume of pine and earthy rich soil filled me. I took a deep breath and shivered. It was cooler, much cooler, than the last time I’d been outside.
Paying no attention to how the air attached itself to my wet curls, I took in my surroundings. The balcony appeared to wrap around the side of the house, but I wasn’t brave enough to explore where it led. I approached the railing and looked over. A strong sense of vertigo pushed me back from the railing. I hated heights, absolutely despised anything taller than me.
I planted myself against the wall before I looked around again. Trees and, well, more trees surrounded the house. Some were ancient-looking pines, and others looked like oak and maple, but I could never tell the difference between them. It wasn’t the trees that caused my grip to loosen around the phone, however. Rising up into the sky like a jagged set of uneven fingers was a mountain the color of sand and granite. The sheer size of the thing cast deep and unforgiving shadows over most of the thick forest, turning the woods into something desolate and intimidating. I could easily imagine people going in there and never being seen again—getting lost and then eaten by a bear or something.
I swallowed down panic and flipped open the cell. Several missed calls and voicemails greeted me. I dialed Adam’s number.
He answered on the second ring. “Ember! Where in the hell are you? What happened to you? I’ve called you a million times. Hey! Are you there?”
“Yeah,” I croaked out. “I’m here.”
A sigh of relief was audible. “Damn, Em, where are you? You disappeared from school on Wednesday—Wednesday, Em. Without so much as a heads-up. And I haven’t seen you since.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” He paused, and I could picture him staring at the phone dumbfounded. “Em, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
The words just tumbled out. “No. I’m not okay.”
“What do you mean? Em, what is going on?”
“I’m in this place, Adam. With these people I don’t know, and I don’t know what to do.”
There was a stretch of silence. “Em, have you’ve been kidnapped or something?”
I started to laugh, because it sounded ridiculous, but what came out sounded more like a sob. Then I was crying, the kind of deep sobs that stole my breath and hurt. I never cried, not like this and not in front of Adam.
“Em, tell me where you are. I’m going to the call the police,” he said in rush. “Just tell me where you are.”
“You can’t call the police. You don’t understand, Adam,” I said, running my hand over my face. “You never knew. I never told you.”
“Knew what? You’re not making sense. Are you in danger?”
“I don’t know. Yes. No. Probably. But you can’t call the police, Adam. You have to promise me.”
There was another long gap of silence. “Okay. I won’t call the police. Where are you?”
“Um, in
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