Broken Ties (Prequel to The Mentalist Series), Page 2

against his back, pushing him off in the process. I might not have had the benefit of daily athletic training, but hours of lifting heavy boxes over the last few months had done wonders for my usually non-existent biceps. Also, standing over six feet tall, I had a good height advantage.

  Brandon wasn’t prepared for my reaction and he stumbled as I shoved him up against a wall, holding his head in place to make sure I had eye contact.

  Don’t ever dare think of laying a finger on Nora again. This is the last time you will bother her. Ever! You will forget I’m the one who said these words to you once I let go.

  I hadn’t spoken the words out loud but I knew Brandon heard me when a blue light flashed in his grey eyes. I knew it would be safe to let go then but, for show, I added out loud, “Quit being a dick, Brandon,” before pushing him away.

  For a second I wasn’t sure if my mind jig had worked as he stared blankly at us for a little too long. But he stepped back, nearly tripping over himself, and then blinked rapidly before turning and walking away.

  “Wow, thanks. I really didn’t want him following me home. I thought he got the message a few blocks back, but some guys suck at reading body language,” Nora sighed as we watched Brandon disappear behind the hedge. “That was pretty impressive by the way. Who knew Brandon was afraid of Paul Colt, eh? People would have paid good money to see that.”

  I bet they’d have paid even more money to know what I really did to him.

  “He’s gone now,” I added a little inanely. What did boys like me say to girls like Nora in situations like this? Probably nothing; this kind of scenario almost certainly never arose. 

  Her brows lifted as she glanced at me then down the path that led home. It still wasn’t dark but I guessed what she was going to say before the words came out. “You aren’t going to let a girl walk home alone, are you?” For good measure, she tilted her head to one side and batted her lashes at me.

  What was she playing at?

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “Sure I do. Age old lover of Marlboro Lights and The Red Hot Chilli Peppers,” she answered, pointing at my T-shirt. “And I know you know who I am.”

  That last bit was said without a hint of cockiness. Everyone at school knew who she was. Nora Brice. She ran track and won practically every single race she’d been in. Plus, she was breathtakingly beautiful, yet refused to date any of the scores of guys who asked her out. Having Brandon hound her was probably just an average day’s bother for her.

  I know describing someone as breathtakingly beautiful sounds a bit much, but that’s simply what she was. Long lashes framed dark wide eyes, her full lips sat perfectly below her slightly rounded nose and her skin always had a soft bronzed sheen to it. I found out later on that she got this from her mother’s Creole heritage. Even the faint scar that ran along her right jaw was endearing; almost like it wanted to prove her beauty could shine through what others might have called an imperfection.

  And her hair.

  Oh, that hair.

  It could break a heart or two all by itself. Shoulder length, auburn, thick, glossy, not quite straight, not quite wavy. I’d always wondered if she spent a long time in front of the mirror to get it looking that way. I’d also always wondered if it would feel as soft to the touch as it looked. She was standing so close to me that I could have crossed that one off my list, but I kept my hands to my sides and tried to focus on what she’d just said.

  It’s fair to say I had a thing for Nora Brice.

  “So?”

  “So what?” I snapped out of my Nora-bubble.

  “Walk me home? It’s only about a minute away but Brandon might come back and I don’t want to have to deal with him. Come on, help a girl out.”

  Well I wasn’t going to say no, was I? Whatever her plan was, I would kick myself for days if I passed on this opportunity to spend another few minutes with her. I racked my brain for reasons why she’d want to extend my presence in her company. A thank you for services rendered? Or was she really afraid of walking down the not too scary path alone? My gut remained calm so I knew she meant what she said. So, why come this way in the first place?

  Nodding, I gestured for her to lead the way. Her smile melted whatever reservations I’d had and we fell into step beside each other. Funnily enough, that was the highlight of the next five minutes. We walked in silence, breaking out on to Oswald Close, until she stopped outside an old block of flats. It looked pretty swanky to me, with chandeliers in the lobby, a porter’s desk and tiled flooring.

  “I can take it from here,” Nora announced with mock bravado and then laughed when I frowned at her. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

  “Sure, whatever,” I replied, knowing she didn’t really mean she’d talk to me at school. She would just see me at Physics class and smile like she always did to everyone. Maybe I’d even graduate to receiving a wave.

  I watched as she got buzzed in by the porter and headed to the bay of lifts. I hoped she’d turn around for one last glance, but she didn’t. My disappointment followed me all the way home.

  It was only when I stepped into my empty flat, a few blocks away, that I realised I’d walked Nora home and hadn’t puked or passed out. Most importantly, I’d ignored one of the rules my father had told me never to break. I’d altered someone’s mind for personal gain. Well, not my personal gain per se, but I hadn’t used my abilities in the way I was supposed to.

  Why the hell didn’t I care?

  Oh yeah, because I’d done it for Nora Brice.

  TWO

  Nora

  “Wow, Mr Colt in a collared shirt. I almost didn’t recognise you without a band name sprawled across your chest.”

  The expression on Paul’s face, when he looked up to find me leaning against the baked goods shelf he’d been stacking, was priceless. Definitely one to capture if I’d had a camera on me. Shame I’d only have my mind’s eye to look back on; he was incredibly cute when he was confused. Way cuter than normal, and I’d thought that was impossible to beat.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded, abandoning the box of sliced bread he’d been unloading and approaching me. His olive green eyes darted around like he thought he’d get in trouble for talking to me.

  “Relax, I’m not stalking you. It’s a supermarket; people come in here to buy things they need.” I brandished the packet of dental floss I’d grabbed a minute ago, just in case that exact question was fired at me.

  “Oh, sorry I didn’t mean…”

  “Don’t worry, if I wanted to stalk you, you’d never know,” I flashed what I hoped was a flirty smile at him.

  Please don’t think I’m a nut job, I prayed silently.

  Seriously, no one would have blamed him if he did. After somewhat randomly hijacking him last night, I’d gone ahead and ignored him all day at school. And not the usual oh-I-didn’t-see-you-there ignoring, more like total blanking. When I saw him sitting with his rock band T-shirt friend at lunchtime, laughing at a joke the other boy must have cracked, I’d stopped myself from waving when he looked up and caught my eye. Actually, I’d panicked and glanced away, sharpish.

  I know it sounds a little daft but it was all meant to be part of my grand plan. If you really want a guy to take notice of you, you reel him in and then push him away, blow hot and cold, that sort of thing. I’d read it in a magazine a few years ago; they even had success stats listed at the bottom of the article.

  Truth is, I’d resorted to magazine advice because I had no idea how to deal with the Paul situation I was stuck in. It’d taken me a while but I’d finally come to accept that I didn’t just like the guy; I liked him liked him. You know what I mean?

  At first the whole thing was just a mild irritation I thought would eventually pass, but it was kind of difficult to fight my own body when it went a bit mental and did really odd things whenever he was in the vicinity. Like, I always felt pukey when his tall frame appeared at a doorway, or when I caught sight of the back of his dark ha
ir in the hallway. No idea why because his buzz cut wasn’t particularly attractive, and he was probably too tall for me to kiss without tiptoeing. Not that I’d thought of kissing him.

  Not much anyway.

  And when he smiled…hmmm; let’s just say I’m glad he didn’t do it a lot because I’d never have been able to make it through any Physics class. Or lunch break. I always thought dimples were only cute on babies, yet he broke that theory every single time his lips turned upwards. He was the first guy who made me want to jump on a desk and declare my smothering feelings to the world, like some crazy chick in one of those soppy teen 80s movies.

  Lame arse feelings!

  “Can I help you with anything?” Paul adopted a customer care tone, folding his arms across his slender chest. How the heck had he handled Brandon’s bulk last night with such regular looking biceps? Sure, they were a little defined but Brandon was a big boy.

  “Nah, I just came to get this but I saw you and thought I’d say hello.”

  The lie flowed from my lips but I didn’t blink.

  Paul’s left brow arched like he was about to refute my words, but something stopped him.

  “Hello to you too,” he nodded and began to turn away.

  Wait, why was he smiling like he knew exactly why I was standing there? And why was he turning away? The magazine tips weren’t working. He was supposed to engage me in conversation which would lead to coffee or something. For a brief second I