Sacrifices Read online

  Sacrifices

  J.P. Grider

  Published by J.P. Grider, 2018.

  Sacrifices

  (A reimagined, rewritten version of The Honor Trilogy)

  Published by

  Fated Hearts Publishing

  Jefferson Township, New Jersey 07438

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to any person, place, or thing is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  First copyright as The Honor Trilogy January, 2014

  Second copyright as Sacrifices September, 2016

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  PROLOGUE

  PART ONE | HONOR | Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  PART TWO

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  PART THREE

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  PART FOUR

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  PART FIVE | SIX YEARS LATER

  THE WEDDING

  PROLOGUE

  The woods are unfamiliar.

  Yet I know I need to be here.

  They’re calling to me.

  Something is.

  I feel it everywhere—my gut, my head. Like I’m being punched.

  Naked.

  Bare.

  Violated.

  Frightened. Very frightened.

  When I stop running, it’s worse, so I keep my feet moving, pounding the ground as I follow the silent call deep into these woods.

  To where?

  I’ve no idea.

  But I run. And I run. And I run.

  And I pant, breathless. Because I am so out of shape.

  But when the call is no longer silent, I stop.

  “Tamlin?” I yell when I see her scrambling on the ground, fighting off two guys while she screams into the air.

  When they hear me shout, three sets of eyes look my way. All three shocked, but only one set relieved.

  The one holding her down grunts in frustration before he flees, while the other stands there clueless. Fortunately, this gives Tamlin time to get up and straighten up what’s left of her tattered clothes before she runs to me and grabs my hands. “Let’s get outta here,” she says, pulling me along the path back to civilization.

  PART ONE

  HONOR

  Chapter One

  Do you know those things they crush cars with? A hydraulic press, or something like that? Well my head may as well be sitting beneath one, because it couldn’t feel any worse than it does right now.

  But even though my eyes are closed, and I’m willing the crushing pain to leave me alone, I can still feel his stare burning behind me. The teachers call him Ethan. So do the girls who ogle him. I’ve never had any conversations with him to call him anything, but I haven’t been oblivious to his presence either. I mean, maybe I wouldn’t be all that aware of his flawless beauty if he didn’t stare all the time. At first, I thought maybe he was into me or something, and I was kind of flattered, because yeah, he's adorable. But when I smiled at him, he'd narrowed his eyes like I was the one out of line. Yet, he continued to stare after that and still does. I don’t know if he does it to anyone else, or just to me, but right now, he’s staring at me, and I want to punch him. And I’m not a violent girl, so you know he’s pissing me off right now. Especially because my head hurts so much that I can see Christmas lights flickering through my head.

  The end of Algebra class can’t come soon enough. I hate it. And not only because I have trouble with it. As soon as I walk through this particular classroom, I am paralyzed with intense agony. I can be having an okay day, but then I walk into this class and bam, instant migraine. Christmas tree lights, stars, whatever you want to call it, that’s what I see when I feel the pain. Mom says it's anxiety about using numbers that causes it, but I don't think so. I don't ever get a headache when I'm doing my algebra homework.

  I wish Ethan would just stop staring at me. His violet eyes are so intense when they meet mine. Wait. Violet eyes?

  I can’t take it any longer, though—the migraine, his staring, the new found realization that his eyes are the same exact shade of violet as mine. This unnerves me most. So, instead of catching glimpses of him by straining my neck, I slam my hands on the desk, jerk my head around and shout, "What? What is it? Why do you keep looking at me like that?" I'm not one to lose my cool, God knows, but he just pushed the wrong buttons at the wrong time.

  "Honor Stevens," the teacher exclaims. "What was that outburst all about?"

  I turn around, back towards the front of the classroom, before even getting any type of reaction from Ethan. "I'm sorry, Miss James," I apologize, my face burning beneath my skin. "May I be excused?"

  Miss James lets out a huge sigh, but turns to retrieve a laminated hall pass from a hook next to the smart board. She stands there holding the pass; I stand from my seat to get it.

  "You have five minutes, Miss Stevens."

  Before I even have a chance to take the pass from her hand, Ethan races up and grabs it. "I'll make sure she gets there, Miss James," he says.

  "No, Ethan, that's okay," Miss James says as Ethan’s face goes white.

  I take the pass from him and walk out. From behind me, I hear Miss James say, "Ethan, honey, are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost."

  But I am too wrapped up in my own migraine problems to worry about him. As I'm walking to the girls' room to splash water on my face to calm down, I realize my headache is gone. Before I can contemplate why that may be, I feel a hand on my shoulder as I'm opening up the girls' room door. It's Ethan. When I turn to face him, his violet eyes grip mine, and I jump back a foot.

  "Honor," he rasps, as if he hasn't spoken a word in days.

  "Ethan, is it?"

  He nods.

  "What is it you want from me?" I am beginning to feel fear rise up in my throat.

  "I want to be sure you're okay," he says to me softly.

  "Really? You've been watching me and following me in the hallways...and...and to the library after school these past two days just to be sure I’m okay?" I, who usually rem
ains collected, just had my second outburst today.

  His head drops in shame. "You saw me...at the library?"

  "Yes, I did," I clip.

  "And...you didn't report me for following you?" he asks, looking back up with a smile pasted on his face.

  "Well," I say and think to myself, why not? I know he’s being sarcastic, but I really should have. "No, I didn't think of it." With my hand still holding open the bathroom door, I'm thinking, I need to hurry him along. "Could we, like, discuss this, um, later? Miss James only gave me five minutes."

  He nods. His eyes are peering through mine again. I avert mine to avoid his stare.

  "Meet me by the back parking lot after school," he tentatively demands.

  Hoping this is not going to be a big mistake, I agree to meet him. I really am curious to find out why he keeps staring at me the way he does. I get the feeling that it’s not because he’s interested in dating me or anything like that.

  I go about my business in the girls' room, but when I return to math class and hang up the hall pass, I see lights. Like, a million bright LED Christmas lights. Stars. The planets. Whatever. The migraine is back in full force, and I nearly pass out. Miss James pulls out her chair, and Ethan comes flying over to place me in it. What is with this guy?

  "Ethan," Miss James says. "Why don't you go get the nurse?"

  "Miss James, with all due respect, ma'am, I'd rather you send someone else."

  I peer at Ethan through my hand, which is covering my face, wondering why he would disobey.

  "Fine,." She resigns. "Tamlin, will you go get the nurse?"

  Tamlin, my new best friend who is right near the desk making sure I am all right, straightens her back and opens her mouth. "Certainly, Miss James." She darts out the door, willing and ready to save the day.

  With my elbow resting on the arm of the chair and my hand still covering my face, I see Miss James through my spread-out fingers reaching for my shoulder. But before she actually rests her hand on me, Ethan comes between us, practically pushing the teacher away.

  "Ethan," Miss James snaps.

  I hear him take a deep breath. "Miss James," he says weakly. "I'm sorry. I uh, kinda lost my balance."

  "You're all white again," she says.

  "I'm fine, Miss James," Ethan replies. "Let's just focus on Honor here." He pats my shoulders.

  "Miss James?" I hear the nurse walk in with Tamlin.

  "Honor's not feeling well. I didn't want her to walk to your office until you checked on her." Miss James whispers. "She was about to pass out."

  The school nurse crouches down before me. "Honor," she says, and I take my hand from my face. "Tell me what's happening, dear."

  "I have a really bad headache. Really bad." I am getting embarrassed, sitting here with the whole class watching. "Can I go to your office and lie down?"

  "Sure." She and Ethan help me up.

  "Ethan," Miss James calls, "you don't need to go."

  He looks at me.

  "Fine, but Miss James," I hear Ethan once again as I'm walking out of the classroom. "Why don't you get an MRI on your head? I'm sensing you need one," he trails off as I walk further down the hallway.

  "Ethan Sutherland, sit down," Miss James' raised-voice response echoes through the hallway.

  In the nurse's office, while I rest on one of the cots, Nurse Wentick phones my mother at the library. My poor mother. She has taken so much time away from her job to either pick me up from school, or chauffeur me from doctor to doctor, and all in vain. Test after test, scan after scan, nothing is ever found. Doctors are at a loss, unable to figure out what is wrong with me. The pain travels, which is peculiar in itself, so a couple doctors have diagnosed me with fibromyalgia, but others say that diagnosis doesn't fit. And, oddly, nothing ever hurts when I'm alone. When I'm by myself, away from people, I feel no pain.

  "Your mother will be here soon," Nurse Wentick tells me. "She's alone at the library; she's just waiting for coverage."

  I nod. "I feel all right now. I really can go back to class."

  Nurse Wentick tilts her head to the side. "I'm sorry, Honor. You don't look well, and I suggested your mom take you to the doctor."

  "Mrs. Wentick, really, that won't do anything. It's just a migraine." I plead to go back to class.

  "Honor, you've been looking really pale lately. Very fatigued and run-down." She touches the back of her hand to my forehead. "You don't feel warm or anything," she tsks. "I'd feel better if you got checked out."

  "Mmm." I lay my head back on the pillow, dropping my forearm over my forehead. I do feel run-down, and it does feel good to lay here and close my eyes. I guess I won't be meeting Ethan in the back parking lot after school. I'll have to find out what all his staring is about another day.

  Chapter Two

  Today when I walk into Algebra, I'm amazed. Flabbergasted. For the first time since the beginning of the school year, I have no sudden attack of a migraine. No Christmas lights illuminating my brain. No stars or planets. Just peace inside my head.

  "Hey, Honor," one of my classmates calls out to me. "How you feeling today?"

  "I'm good, thanks."

  "What's with that new guy? He's so into you...in that creepy, stalker way," she mocks.

  I let her comment hang there, not knowing if she is trying to be friendly or making fun of me. But it doesn't matter, because I am concentrating on avoiding Ethan's gaze. As usual, he is watching me. This time he stares surreptitiously, averting his eyes every now and then instead of overtly gaping right at me.

  As soon as I sit at my desk, the class bell rings. A second later, Mrs. Johnson, a substitute teacher, enters the classroom and welcomes us. "Hello students." Mrs. Johnson is a regular sub and very familiar with all of us. "Obviously, Miss James is not here today, but she did leave assignments. Please open your books to page 104."

  Though algebra is still Greek to me, it's refreshing to have a clear head through the entire period.

  "Honor," Ethan calls, approaching me after class. "You look good today. Your color's back."

  I gather my books from my desk and fit them into my backpack. "Thanks." Glancing at him quickly, I continue packing up.

  "Can you meet me today after school?" His head is down, his eyes staring at the polished concrete floor.

  Shaking my head, I offer a negative answer. "Sorry, I can't. My mom's picking me up on her way to work. Maybe tomorrow?" I ask, blurting it out without even thinking first.

  "Sure." He nods and walks away, but the straightening of his posture tells me he is trying really hard to restrain himself from looking back.

  Today is going by almost pain-free. Sure, I have sudden twinges here and there walking through the halls, but for the most part, I feel good.

  "Hey there, Honor." Tamlin catches up with me. "You're looking happy today."

  I smile, practically skipping alongside her.

  "What're you all smiles for?"

  Still smiling, and yes, still hovering between a walk and a skip, I shrug. "I dunno. Just feel good, I guess."

  "Nothing hurts?" she inquires.

  "Barely," I smirk, yet retain my smile.

  "What else?"

  "Whaddya mean, what else? That's enough. For nearly— " Quickly, I try to do the math in my head, with a little help from my fingers, "—seven months—" I think, yes, it's almost April now, "—yeah, for nearly seven months, I've had a splitting headache every freakin' school day. Today, nothing. That should be enough to make me happy, don'tcha think?" I nudge her with my arm. "Shouldn't it?"

  She gives me this huge grin. "Sure it should. I'm happy for you."

  "Hey, Tamlin." My tone turns serious. "How've you been?" I raise my eyebrows, concerned that I haven't even brought up her attack in weeks. Maybe she's been hurting, and I've been too involved in my own misery to even notice.

  She nudges me back, "Oh, Honor, you know I'm fine." Her arm slips around my shoulders, which is no easy feat for her, since, at 5'2", she's a whole seven inches shorter than I am. "You know I'm just grateful you were there." Suddenly it's silent, and I know we're both thinking the same thing. How in the world did I know she was in the woods, behind the school, being attacked by two delinquents?

  Tamlin interrupts the silence. "I just don't understand how you knew."

  My heart races a bit. "I told you Tamlin, I don't know. I felt afraid ...I told you that...but not for me. I...I can't explain it."

  She opens the door that leads to the parent pick-up lot and stops, holding up a slew of rowdy teens behind us. "But you said you felt like you were being punched and...and," she lowers her voice, "you felt like you were about to be raped." Her voice raises, "it's like you were there with me...and then...you were."