Bound by Earth

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Two months after the accident.

“I don’t intend to take the place of your parents, Tara.” Thirteen-year-old, newly orphaned Tara Thompson heard the woman speak though she barely registered the words. And she scarcely felt the woman’s hand upon her shoulder. “I just want to take care of you. This is a safe place for you. Consider my home your refuge. Do you know what a refuge is?”

Tara didn’t respond. She had little energy to do much more than breathe and simply survive. The world as she knew it had ceased to exist when she’d awaken from the coma. She knew she had been in a car crash, though she couldn’t remember any details about it. Not long after she awoke, some woman from social services had told Tara her parents had been killed. Nothing made sense anymore. The person she thought she was becoming was suddenly gone. Tara was a thirteen-year-old girl who had everything one minute and nothing the next.

“A refuge is a place where you can retreat. It’s a safe place where you can decide how to move forward. Let yourself fall apart and, when you’re ready, you can begin to rebuild,” Carol said gently. “This is your refuge, Tara. There is no time limit. There are no rules on how you grieve the life you once had, other than you aren’t allowed to hurt yourself or anyone else. A refuge is a place where violence cannot exist.” She paused, and Tara could practically feel the concern and care coming from the woman.

Finally, after several quiet moments, Carol said, “Three months ago, you were a girl with a family, a future, and a general idea of what your future looked like. In one night, one horrific night, that changed. It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to be devastated. It’s okay to feel lost. What isn’t okay is to stay in those places forever. A refuge is a starting point. A place where you can gather yourself before you start your journey forward. When you’re ready, I will do everything I can to help you begin that journey.”

Tara’s heart beat painfully hard in her chest as the reality she constantly tried to push away crashed over her like a turbulent wave. Tears tracked down her face, but she didn’t wipe them away. Her mom once told her that tears were cleansing. They were God’s way of allowing us to wash away the hurt, anger, and pain. If her mom were still alive, Tara would have told her mother she didn’t know what she was talking about. Tara had cried countless tears, and nothing had been washed away. If anything, the tears just brought more tears. The pain was so much more intense when she cried. She hated it.

“What if I’m never ready?” Tara asked after sitting next to the older woman for a few minutes.

“Your life was spared for a reason,” Carol said. “There is something you are meant to do, and I doubt it is to sit in a room for the next seventy years grieving. Don’t waste your purpose. Your parents wouldn’t—”

Tara jumped to her feet as she turned to face the woman. Her fists were clenched tight, and tears blurred her vision “You don’t know what my parents would want so don’t you dare pretend to know!” Her words came out through gritted teeth as she fought the urge to scream. Tara didn’t want to scream because she honestly didn’t know if she’d be able to stop once she started. She felt if she opened her mouth and let out that first soul-bearing sound, then there would be no end. It would be like breaking a dam on a river that was fed from the ocean. The destruction would be devastating. So, she kept her jaw locked tight, only allowing enough movement to form the words she needed.

“I know they loved you,” Carol said in that same calm voice, ignoring the rage Tara was aiming at her. “I know if I had a child, and they’d been spared, then I’d want them to go on without me and lead a full, happy life.”

“I shouldn’t have to go on without them. I’m a kid. They’re the parents. They’re supposed to take care of me. They’re supposed to be here. But they’re not.” Tara’s lips trembled as she spoke, and her voice cracked. She opened her mouth to say something else, but there was really nothing else to say, so she turned and ran down the porch steps and away from the house. Tara ran toward the park she’d seen earlier when the social worker had brought her to Carol’s house that morning. Tara didn’t want to hear anything else because nothing Carol said would make things better. Tara had no idea why she hadn’t been killed in the crash, but she didn’t believe it was because there was some grand plan for her life. She wasn’t anyone special. She was just Tara Thompson, once upon a time the only child to Rebecca and Jason Thompson and now orphan. She was just a lost girl with nothing and no one.

When her feet hit the dirt of the park, she finally slowed. She walked over to the swings and plopped down onto one. She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees, and placed her face in her hands. Everything hurt. Not because of the accident—her injuries caused her virtually no pain whatsoever—but because there was a huge, empty hole inside of her, and it felt like her body was being pulled apart and flung into that hole piece by piece. There was no support to hold everything together.

“You weren’t supposed to die,” she whispered through the tears. “You’re supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to be alone.” They were words she’d repeated over and over since she’d awoken in the hospital. But no matter how many times she said them, they wouldn’t bring her parents back.

“Who are you talking to?”

Tara’s head snapped up, startled by the voice of another girl. Suddenly, sitting in the swing next to her, was a girl about Tara’s own age. She had blonde hair, big green eyes, and an inquisitive expression that was full of honest curiosity. The girl was kind of gangly with her extra-long limbs, and she looked a bit awkward sitting in the swing.

“Are you okay?” The girl’s expression changed from one of curiosity to concern. “Are you hurt? Do I need to get your parents?”

Tara’s heart clenched as she shook her head. “I don’t have parents,” she said, her voice coming out a little hoarse.

“Are they dead to you? Because mine are totally dead to me right now. They have no clue how hard it is to be both a thirteen-year-old girl and in the eighth grade. I’ve tried to explain to them that girls my age are ruthless, abhorrent, demonic, soul-sucking bitches who only want to cut your throat and laugh as they watch you bleed out on the greasy cafeteria floor, but they simply won’t believe me. ‘I was thirteen once,’ my mom keeps saying. But I’m not sure if she really was. She acts like I’m exaggerating or something.

“I mean, how is it fair that I get grounded for saying ‘ruthless bitches?’ They didn’t seem to care that I’d also said they were abhorrent, demonic, and soul sucking. I am telling the truth about those bitches, yet my dad can scream obscenities at the vehicle in front of him because the driver is supposedly making him late to work when we all know that’s a big fat lie. He was running late to work all on his own because he kept hitting the snooze button on the alarm this morning. It’s not the fault of the person who was driving the speed limit. C’mon!” She rolled her large green eyes.

Tara stared at the girl, wondering if she ever actually breathed. She was sure this girl hadn’t taken a breath throughout her entire monologue. Tara was also trying not to punch the girl in the face because she would give anything to have her parents back so they could ground her for cussing or having a bad attitude or anything they wanted to.

“Damn, you’re a tough crowd. Don’t like to talk, huh?”

“Who are you, and why are you talking to me?” Tara finally asked.

“Oh, frack, sorry. I’m totally lacking in social skills, or so my mom tells me like every frapping day. I’m Shelly Ann Smith. Yes, my initials spell SAS. My parents didn’t think that through very well when they chose my name.” Shelly waved her hand as if her parents were positively ridiculous. “Who are you? And why are you sitting in the park crying?”

Tara realized Shelly was truly clueless, or just one of those people you had to be almost cruelly honest with because they just didn’t get normal social cues. Tara didn’t have the energy to protect the girl’s feelings by letting the news out gently. This girl asked so she was gonna get the truth. Would Shelly feel like a complete ass afterward? Probably. Did Tara care? Nope.

“I’m Tara Thompson, and I’m crying because my parents were killed in a car accident two months ago. I don’t give a crap if your parents are pissed at you for cussing about the stupid mean girls at your school. My parents really are dead … to me and everyone else on earth.”

Shelly’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. “My mom was right. My social skills suck balls. Dude, I am so sorry. And I said my parents were dead to me. Damn! You probably want to throat punch me or something.”

Tara nodded. “I do want to throat punch you. But hitting someone takes energy. I’m out. I got nothing left.” Her shoulders slumped forward as she wrapped her arms around the chains of the swing.

Shelly sighed and started moving her swing side to side, just enough to nudge Tara’s swing and make her gently rock. Tara added “no personal space boundaries” to the mental list of things that was wrong with the strange girl who’d sat down next to her uninvited.

“Where are you from? I mean, I’ve never seen you around, and Buffalo, Kentucky is a small town. I’m sure I would have already befriended you by now,” Shelly said matter-of-factly.

“You make a lot of friends or something?” Tara asked. She’d much rather focus on Shelly’s issues than her own.

“Actually, you’re pretty much my first.”

Tara’s brow drew down. “I’m your first friend? Are you new here, too?”

“Naw,” Shelly said, shaking her head. “Born and bred in good ol’ Buffalo. I just get on people’s nerves as a general rule. I might have had some friends a year or so ago. But a wave of hormones seems to have taken over the town’s entire female population last summer before the start of seventh grade. Those friendships blew up in an explosion fueled by PMS and estrogen.”

“What makes you think I want to be your friend?”

“One…” Shelly held up a hand and ticked off a finger. “You’re new in town, which means you don’t have any friends. Two, you’re brooding and angry, which is the perfect complement to my gregarious, fun-loving self.”

Tara waited for more, but Shelly didn’t go on. She simply rocked back and forth with a small smile on her face as if she were quite pleased with herself.

“That’s all you got?” Tara asked. “The fact that you think I’m desperate for a friend because I’m new and because you’re so annoying you need someone un-annoying to temper your own personality?”

“Pretty much, but I’m winging it. You caught me quite unprepared to make a new friend. Give me another hour to think about it, and I could have an entire debate prepared on the subject of why we are destined to be BFFs, complete with a bullet-point presentation.”

Tara thought her words would anger Shelly, or at least hurt her feelings. But they appeared to roll right off the girl’s back, as if she were impervious to insults.

“Maybe you’re just so desperate for a friend you don’t mind befriending an angry, orphaned girl who actually doesn’t need a friend.” Tara pursed her lips and waited. She looked Shelly straight in the eyes. The other girl seemed to be seriously weighing Tara’s cruel words, but she still didn’t seem put off.

“I see where you’re going with this”—Shelly nodded—“but I don’t do desperate. It’s not my style. Bitchy, overzealous, too-curious-for-my-own-good, those are definitely me. But desperate, no. I also know you’re just trying to push me away with mean words. It won’t work. Once I decide I want someone to be my friend, then it’s going to happen. You should just accept the situation. It will make your life easier.”

“If that’s so, then why haven’t you made any replacement friends for the ones you lost?” Tara challenged.

Shelly gave her a “duh” look. “Because I don’t want to be friends with any of the ruthless, abhorrent, demonic, soul-sucking bitches. I’d rather be friendless than have girls who’d just as soon backstab me as they would look at me. They aren’t even loyal to each other. I don’t need that.”

Tara didn’t know what to say. The truth was, she didn’t want a friend. She didn’t want anyone. She just wanted to crawl into a corner and die.

“Did you move here after your parents passed because you have family here?” Shelly asked.

Tara shook her head.

“So who do you live with?”

“Some lady. It’s a foster home.”

“Oh, wait”—Shelly held out a hand—“don’t tell me. I bet I can guess. You’re living with Carol Peters, aren’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

Shelly grinned. “Mrs. Carol is the kindest person in this bison turd bowl. She’d give a person in need the shirt off her back and her last dollar if it meant getting them back on their feet. She’s had other foster kids. Some deserved her kindness, some, well, they deserved a good kick in the nuts or v****a, depending on their own personal chromosome. But it doesn’t matter to Mrs. Carol if they’re deserving or not. She loves them all and gives everything she has.” Shelly narrowed her eyes on Tara. “What kind are you going to be? Deserving of her kindness? Or are your girl parts going to need an ice pack?”

“Anyone ever told you that you’re pushy and intrusive?”

“Only every day of my life since I came out squawking like a banshee at the doctor who had his head in my mother’s business,” Shelly said without an ounce of shame. “Life’s too short to cater to other people’s sensitivities. If I worried about offending people, then I’d never get to say a word. My head would probably pop right off my shoulders from all the pressure building up with the need to speak.”

“Look,” Tara started as she stood up from the swing, “I’m sure you mean well—”

“I don’t,” Shelly interrupted. “I’m serving my own selfish purposes, but please, do go on.”

“I don’t need a friend, and I don’t want a friend. I just want to survive the hell my life has become, and I want to do it alone.” Tara started to walk away but only made it a few feet before Shelly spoke.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow, BFF. Mrs. Carol makes a mean Sunday casserole, and I’ve only missed it once when I had the flu. And that was only because my mom said it wouldn’t be nice to give Mrs. Carol the flu when what I was getting in return was a nice, warm casserole.”

“Fantastic,” Tara muttered under her breath as she headed back the way she’d come. As she walked back to Carol’s house, she realized one good thing had come from meeting Shelly in the park. She’d been distracted, at least for a little while. Shelly talked so much and so fast it was difficult for Tara to even think about her own pain. Maybe she didn’t want a friend, but it might be that she needed one—especially one as annoying as Shelly—in order to survive her grief.

But she wouldn’t admit that just yet. Tara would wait and see how the day went tomorrow. If Shelly was able to distract her again then perhaps she’d allow the girl to stick around. If not, well, she’d just have to become one of those ruthless bitches Shelly hated so much. Then she wouldn’t be so determined to be Tara’s friend.

Jax sat in a rental car, staring across the road at the park, watching Tara as she sat on a swing, her head downcast. He tensed and narrowed his eyes as a skinny girl approached and took the swing next to her. He focused his inner eye for a few moments—listening, sensing the elemental world around him. Nothing. The skinny girl was completely human.

A new friend. It was exactly what Tara needed. Jax said a silent prayer to Mother Gaia, asking her to ensure this new girl would stay a true friend to his charge. It had been tough on Jax these past two months, watching the girl under his protection have to struggle through the first few weeks without her parents. Without anyone. It had been much tougher on Tara. So many times Jax had wanted to reach out, to talk with her, to offer her whatever comfort he could. But a giant man appearing out of nowhere usually didn’t offer much in the way of comfort. And what would he say anyway? “Hello, Tara. Sorry your parents are dead. But it’ll get better. Guess what? I know who killed your parents. A dark elemental. That’s right. There’s an entire hidden world out there controlled by light and dark elementals. And you are going to be a part of it one day.” Probably wouldn’t go over too well. Jax scanned the area one more time, just to be sure the two girls weren’t being watched by anyone else. When he was satisfied Tara was safe, or at least as safe as she possibly could be under the circumstances, he started the car and drove back to the woods.