Bound by Secrets

By Elaine Pierson

Seventeen year old Kaia Lenoit is living the life of teenage girl with no clue who she really is. All she knows is that she's not normal. As the nightmares that have haunted her all of her life become more vivid and frightening, strange things start to happen. She's changing and her friends are dying. No one is prepared for what is about to happen. The world of safety that has been created around her starts to crumple as Kaia's true nature surfaces. Evil is after her and its closing in fast. Will she be strong enough to defeat it? Or will the secrets that have been kept from her by her loved ones make her embrace it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elaine Pierson
• Release date: Jun 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311665867

Book preview

Books by Elaine Pierson

Summer’s Curse

Lacey Hannigan Series:

Growl

Change

Redemption

Shohala Falls Series:

Shohala Falls (novella)

Bound by Secrets (book 1)

Coming Soon:

Bound by Truth (book 2)

Bound by Destiny (book 3)

This book is a work of fiction. Any reference to real events, people or places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination.

Visit the author’s website: elainepierson.com for info on upcoming books or contact Elaine at [e-mail]

Chapter One

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Blood rained down on me as I sat in the middle of a once green field that was now bathed in red. I stared out at the hundreds of mutilated corpses that surrounded me. My eyes fell on one face in particular and a gut-wrenching scream exploded from my lungs. Nolan’s pale, lifeless eyes were looking at me, blaming me for taking away his soul. My heart clenched painfully at the accusation. I shook my head frantically in denial and screamed out loud, hoping to force the scene in front of me away.

Suddenly, I sat bolt upright in bed, beads of sweat rolled down the side of my face as I turned on the lamp by the bed and did a quick survey of my surroundings to make sure I was in my room and safe. Satisfied that none of the monsters had followed me out of the dream, I let out several deep breaths to calm my shaky nerves. My nightmare lingered in my mind, wiping away any thought I had of going back to sleep. I laid back down and tried not to think about the horrible images in my head.

You’d think I would be used to them by now, after all, I’ve been having them my entire life, but I’ve never gotten used to the terror they cause. Each one scares the hell out of me. When I was younger, they were so bad that I would go days without sleep, which often left me feeling weak and exhausted. Over time, I learned ways to deal with the sleepless nights.

My favorite coping mechanism was daydreaming. I would spend hours laying in bed wondering what it would be like to go to bed at night in my own room and wake up in someone else’s, living their life. My musing’s kept me awake most nights and I was thankful for the distraction.

However, if I had known then that my thoughts would one day become reality, I would have scrubbed the daydreams from my mind with the most abrasive brush I could find, because for the last three months that’s exactly how I’ve felt... like I woke up one morning living someone else’s life.

It sounds crazy and that’s pretty much what my Aunt Meg says every time I mention it, but no matter how hard I try to push the thought away, it’s always there. The feeling that the life I’m living isn’t my own haunts me all the time. I often find myself wondering exactly whose life I’m trapped in if it isn’t my own. That’s a question so far I haven’t found the answer to.

Up until a few months ago I knew who I was and while I have never been truly happy, I was at least somewhat content in my life. But that was before I started having a strange feeling that something was missing. Like there is a part of myself that I can’t get to. Something deep down inside me, out of my reach. Crazy, right?

As a senior who is about to start my final year of high school, I should be having the time of my life. Freedom from my aunt’s ever-growing list of rules is closer than ever. The Fall formal dance is just around the corner and I’m fairly confident someone will ask me to go. Unfortunately, I know without a doubt it won’t be the one guy I wish would ask.

To top off all the excitement of beginning my senior year, there’s all the parties that are popping up everywhere. It’s as if every senior at Stokes High is determined to see who can throw the wildest-get-the-cops-called-to-their-house kind of party, and I’ve been invited to most of them. But no matter how many invites I get or how close to freedom I am, I just can’t seem to be happy about it.

With the strange feelings inside me growing stronger every day, I’m more worried about what’s happening to me than going out looking for party dresses. It’s at times like this that I wish my mom was still alive. I don’t really remember much about her, I was only three when both of my parents were killed in a car crash. But I like to think that if my mother was alive, she would know what was wrong with me and how to fix it.

Thinking of my mom, I instinctively touched the charm bracelet on my wrist that she had made for me when I was born. I looked down at the multitude of charms that dangled from the bracelet and instantly missed the woman I never really got the chance to know.

If it wasn’t for my mom’s sister taking me in after the accident that I somehow managed to survive, I probably would have ended up in an orphanage somewhere. And it’s for that reason alone that I put up with my aunt’s extreme overprotectiveness. I know she loves me and means well, but I think losing my mom made her afraid of the world and everything in it.

When I was little, Aunt Meg never let me out of her sight. She kept me hidden from the world and wouldn’t even allow me go to public school until a few years ago when I demanded to be freed from the isolation of homeschooling and living on a remote country farm, miles and miles away from anything that resembled a city. Even though I wasn’t the only child in the house, I still felt alone most of the time. And out of place.

I grew up with Alyse Lenox and her brother, Nolan. Aunt Meg had taken them in around the same time she adopted me. During our childhoods, they never talked much about their real parents and I never felt the need to ask them anything. To me, they were simply new members of my family and I was glad to have them. And even though they were completely against moving to the city and tried to dissuade me many times, I was able to convince my aunt to relocate our family. It took several months of pleading and begging, but I finally got what I wanted. The chance to be a normal girl and the opportunity to meet new people.

We moved to Stokes, South Carolina four years ago and for a while everything was great. I had my two best friends living with me and I was making new friends. My life was on track to becoming something I hoped I could be happy with. But a year after our move, Nolan suddenly decided that he no longer wanted to live with us. He wanted to be on his own.

To my surprise, he actually convinced Aunt Meg to allow him and Alyse to move into the vacant house next door. They were only fourteen and sixteen at the time. Aunt Meg explained her decision by saying that she had never legally adopted them so she couldn’t stop them from moving out even if she wanted to. At first, it was a hard change for me to adjust to, not having them living in the same house was difficult. But over time I learned to deal with the feeling of abandonment that I felt. Now instead of being my roommates, they are my neighbors.

Alyse is seventeen like me, and Nolan, who I’ve had the biggest crush on for as long as I can remember, is nineteen. Despite the fact that we grew up together, I’ve never considered him my brother, but more of a guardian. He even told me several times when we were kids that he was my protector. I never really understood what he meant by that. But he has always been there for me whenever I’ve needed him and sometimes even when I didn’t.

Over the years since Nolan moved out, our relationship changed. The closeness we once had as children slowly faded away and an odd love-hate kind of friendship formed between us. It’s the complete opposite of what I have with his sister, Alyse, who is still my best friend.

Unfortunately for me though, the puppy-love feelings I had for Nolan when we were younger turned into something more despite the strain on our friendship. I fell in love with him a long time ago. I’m not even sure when exactly it happened. Or why. He’s not an easy person to get along with but there is something about him that appeals to me on a level I can’t even begin to understand.

I think my feelings for him grew stronger when we used to go on hunting trips together when we were kids and he taught me how to use a bow and arrow. And how to attune my senses to my surroundings...to connect with nature on a level I never thought possible.

Our hunting trips or training sessions as he called them were the only times he ever let his tough guy exterior fade a bit. And occasionally, I got to see a genuine smile on his face when I proved that I was paying attention by following his instructions and bagging a deer or rabbit for dinner.

Or perhaps I fell in love with him because of the way he always stood guard over me while I played, with a look in his eyes that said he would not hesitate to destroy anything or anyone who dared try to hurt me. He was nothing more than a child himself at the time, but he always made me feel so protected and safe.

Whatever it was that made me fall in love with him, I wish I could undo it, because my feelings for him have caused me nothing but pain. I had to learn the hard way that just because I loved him didn’t mean he loved me back. It was a painful lesson, but I now know better than to ever cross the friendship line with him again. It didn’t go so well the first time.

It was soon after he moved into the house next door, I had to stay after school to work on a project one day and he stayed to walk me home. It was late in the afternoon and the sun had already begun to set. I wasn’t paying much attention to where I was walking. I was too busy stealing glances over at Nolan as he talked about football practice and I didn’t see the baseball size rock sitting in the middle of the sidewalk. Apparently, neither did Nolan.

I tripped over it and was about to fall face first to the ground when thankfully, Nolan grabbed my arm and jerked me upwards before I had a chance to face-plant into the cement. He snatched me backwards so hard that I crashed into his chest with such a force that the air was knocked from my lungs. I had never noticed how strong he was until that day. As I looked up at him in shock and gratitude, I got caught up in the moment and before I realized what I was doing, I kissed him. The reaction I received was not the one I had been hoping for.

His body had instantly tensed. The playfulness he had when we were talking before I fell, vanished in the blink of an eye. He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me away roughly. I still to this day remember the way he stared at me with his light blue eyes that for some reason looked silver at that moment. It was obvious he was stunned I had kissed him, but beneath that was something else. Something he instantly pushed away. A stoic expression covered his face as he told me I could never kiss him again, that we were friends and could never be anything more.

My heart broke that day. And for a long time afterwards I avoided Nolan like he had a highly contagious disease. I was embarrassed and hurt from his rejection, but considering that he was one of my closest friends and he lived next door, I eventually had to see him again. And when I did, we both acted as if nothing had happened. Our friendship resumed but it wasn’t the same as before. We never talked about the kiss. In a way, I was thankful, but it also hurt to know my kiss was so forgettable.

Over the years afterwards, we both grew up and matured in our own ways. I prefer to think of myself as a somewhat normal teenage girl - that is, when I’m not convinced I’m a pod person living someone else’s life. And Nolan – who I’ve always thought seems older than he is, matured in his own way too... by dating every brainless, clumsy bimbo he could find.

I think that’s when our love-hate relationship really started to form. I guess you could say it was my jealousy that started it. It’s not easy seeing the man you love with someone else. Unrequited love is a real bitch. Sometimes, it brings out the worst parts of you that you didn’t even know existed.

The first time I saw Nolan with another girl, I was so stunned that I think my mouth actually hit the floor. It was just a few days after I had kissed him years ago. He was outside on his porch - that I have a perfect view of from my second floor bedroom window – and he was holding hands with Mitzy Kale, the only ninth grade girl I’d ever met with boobs the size of coconuts. Okay, maybe that’s stretching it a little, but you get the point. No A or B cups for her.

I couldn’t peel my eyes away from them as I peeked out the window. Mitzy was not the kind of girl I thought Nolan would be interested in and I had a hard time trying to understand what she was doing at his house. That is, until I saw him pull her close to his body and kiss her.

My world stood still as I watched him wrap his arms around her waist and hold her to his chest. That was how he was supposed to have reacted when I kissed him. At the time, I didn’t realize I was crying until a salty tear rolled over my top lip and into my mouth. I then closed my eyes and let out a heartbreaking sigh before pulling the curtains closed.

Just as I was about to walk away, a gust of wind blew through the open window, lifting the curtains. Despite my instincts telling me to just walk away and save what was left of my broken heart, I glanced outside once more. To my utter shock, Nolan was staring up at my window. The look on his face was not something I expected. I could have sworn that he looked sad, tortured even, like his heart was hurting just as much as mine. When he saw me looking at him, he quickly dropped his gaze back to Mitzy and whatever I thought I saw on his face, instantly disappeared.

After that day, it was one girl after the next. I honestly don’t think there is a girl in all of Stokes, South Carolina that he hasn’t dated. Except for me. I will forever be in the friend zone. And over time, I’ve learned to accept it. At least that’s what I tell myself to keep from going crazy. But my feelings for him have never changed despite the fact that I am mostly rude and sarcastic to him now. Attitude is my defense mechanism to hide my true feelings. He owns my heart whether he wants it or not.

I’ve tried dating other guys to get my mind off of Nolan but it never seems to work out. Whoever coined the phrase ‘women are complicated’ obviously never spent much time with boys, because they truly are the more complicated of the sexes. I will never understand how a boy can be totally in to me one day, and avoid me like I have the plague the next. But that’s exactly what has happened with more than just one of the guys I’ve dated.

After it happened the first few times, I thought maybe I had done something to scare the guy off. Maybe I talked too much or not enough. Maybe my perfume was too strong, maybe I had food in my teeth. Or maybe I just wasn’t pretty enough. Whatever the reason was, I stopped caring after the ninth or tenth guy suddenly lost my number.

Eventually, I stopped dating altogether. I just got tired of the disappointment. It’s not like I’m ugly or have a bad attitude. Most people think I’m attractive. Unique-looking is the most common thing said about me. I’m taller than most girls. At six feet four inches, I’m taller than most boys too. My thin body and high cheekbones give me sort of an exotic look. However, my unusually pale complexion and white-blond hair counteracts the exotic image and makes me look more like a very tall porcelain doll. But I think it’s my eyes that get the most attention. I’ve never met another person with silver eyes before. I guess that does make me unique.

Sometimes I stand in front of a mirror for hours just staring into my own eyes. I don’t know what it is about them but when I look into my eyes I feel a connection with something that I can’t describe. I get the feeling that the person staring back at me isn’t the real me. I know, I’m starting to deter back into crazy land, but it was during one of my conceited moments when I had my compact out at lunch and was looking at my eyes when Gary Helms spoke to me for the first time.

To most girls, he wasn’t much of a catch but I had had a school girl crush on him for a little while. We shared the same fifth period science class and had a lot in common. Neither of us were into sports or trying to become the most popular kid in school like everyone else. And we didn’t care about or get involved with the rumor mill that was constantly on overload. Instead, we both preferred to spend our time studying and preparing for our future. I think we are the only two students in the entire school who have given any thought whatsoever to our lives beyond highschool.

I came out of my self-imposed dating retirement because of Gary. We went on our first date two weeks after the first time he spoke to me and a relationship soon formed. We enjoyed spending time together and ended up dating for several months. I think I was even starting to have real feelings for him. But just like with my previous love interests, he suddenly, out of the blue, decided that I no longer existed.

To say that I was dumbfounded was an understatement. I was angry, confused, shocked and most of all, hurt. I had thought Gary was different but it turned out he was just as screwed up as the other boys in my life. And now, here I sit on the edge of my bed dreading the first day of school of my senior year, where I’ll be forced to see happy couples hugging and kissing, enjoying the bliss of highschool love, while I suffer through my loneliness in silence. The weekend didn’t last near long enough.

Perhaps it’s the lack of a full nights sleep that has me on edge, but the monsters in my nightmare were extra grouchy and cruel last night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw their faces. Or at least blurred versions of faces. The only thing that really stood out was the pitch black darkness of their eyes and the blood that dripped from their mouths.

Kaia Celeste Lenoit! You are going to be late for school if you’re not out the door in five minutes my aunt’s voice echoed up the stairs.

The use of my full name showed that she was growing impatient. I blew out a deep sigh and grabbed my book bag from the floor. On my way out, I stopped to take one final look in the mirror over the dresser by the bedroom door. Normal. That’s what I saw. A normal, pretty girl. I shook my head, my reflection copied me. I just don’t get it. What is it about me that makes me undateable?

Kaia! Now! The bus is leaving!

Looking to the window that faced the road in front of my house, I saw the bus drive by on its way to the bus stop down the block. Oh crap! I ran down the stairs and out the front door as fast as I could but