Redefined by Jamie Magee Read Free Book Online Page B

saw nothing, but I heard a slight gasp and looked to the source. Olivia had walked out of the house with Chrispin, her soul mate, in tow. I assumed her gasp was for the mock stage we had set up and turned my attention back to Draven. He’d placed it around him and was checking the power source, every part of it, finding no reason to believe that it would hurt me or was unsafe to play.
    “What was that about?”
    “I don’t know,” he almost whispered as he carefully took the strap off himself. “I want you to play it to spite him, but if you want me to take it home, I will.”
    I felt this pull, this odd energy. At first I thought it was Draven, the way he always made me feel with a glance, but then I was almost sure it was coming from the guitar. It was the music in me wanting an escape.
    “It’s mine. I’m playing it.”
    Draven’s grin nearly took my breath away as he placed the guitar around me. I glanced at the growing audience on the porch, noticing that even though Aden was teasing them with his drums, their very own Brady was playing a commanding tune. They were staring at us, at me, and I couldn't figure out why. I noticed that Rose, Willow’s grandmother, was leaning close to August, whispering something to him with which he seemed to concur.
    I glanced over my shoulder before taking a seat next to Draven and the microphone he had in front of him. This was as acoustic as we got, and I almost feared it would be too much for this crowd.
    I noticed Drake and Madison lingering in the front yard in the moonlight, talking calmly. At least it appeared that way. Willow and Landen had joined everyone else on the porch. They were sitting with the children off to the side. Willow was staring at me in what looked like misguided admiration. I nodded in Madison’s direction, giving her some hope that her endless quest for a girl that looked just like her did have some positive effect. She grinned widely and gave them her stare instead.
    The music was starting to shift into one of our original mild songs. I adjusted my fingers around the strings, and as I did I saw my father’s image cross my mind. I assumed it was only because of the simple desire to know that he was okay, but as Draven began to sing and I played more, I saw more images.
    I squinted my eyes closed, seeing that home that I never lived in become more and more real in my mind. It was entirely more eccentric than the apartment in New York or our home in Salem, but I felt family there. My family. I felt an ache to find it once more, even though I knew it would be lifetimes before I was ever afforded such a pleasure.
    I breathed in, just trying to tell my mind to store the memories, not unravel them - and when I did I heard one of my father’s songs. It was one of the most aggressive ones he’d ever written. I’d yet to master the rhythm of the guitar in it, but right now the song was blaring in my mind, so much so that I opened my eyes and glanced down at my hands, fearing I was playing the wrong song. Oddly, what I was playing, what Draven was singing, was not what I was hearing.
    My heart began to race as my mind tried to grasp what I was seeing, hearing. The lyrics of this song held at the most 10-15 words, but I couldn’t remember them. An anxiety built within me, simply because I knew I was supposed to see something, hear something. I felt the warning, the direction, and I was blind to it. I decided that as soon as I was done playing I was going to talk to Monroe, make her explain to me what she was seeing, demand for her to tell me if it had anything to do with my parents.
    I glanced in her direction, noticing Monroe standing in front of Willow and Landen, holding Landen’s hand. Fear spiked through me, knowing that with a touch Monroe could speak volumes. Before I could utter a “No” or even ponder an explanation as to what he might be seeing, Landen stood and jumped to the side of the porch, then ran at full force through the field to the