2 Empath (3 page)

“You told me about that yesterday,” he interrupted. “I remember. Your friends helped you figure out where I was.”

I looked up at him. He was studying me intently, his green eyes blazing. “You came all the way from Hawaii to Nebraska just to find me?”

So much for acting casual.

I nodded.

He had been holding himself off the bed a little, his arms shaking with the tension. In one motion, his eyes dropped from mine and he fell back onto the pillows.

Another pain slashed through my chest. He didn’t believe me.

I sat motionless, waiting, for what seemed like half an hour. It was probably only five seconds, but it was all I needed to feel utter despair. If he didn’t believe me, I would never see him again. He would recover and go on with his life alone, remembering me forever as the whack job who’d showed up at his bedside blubbering like a baby and making a complete ass out of herself. Later on, he and his girlfriend would laugh about it…

No.
He had to believe me. He just had to!

I stood up again. “I’m not lying to you, Zane!” I pleaded. “I swear, I’m not.” My mind began to race, searching for the kind of ‘proof’ that men like my dad needed to hear. “I knew that the accident was with an old woman driving the wrong way down the interstate, because you told me that. You told me she had the dome lights on and her headlights off, and that she looked scared. You were really hoping you didn’t hit her — did they tell you that you missed her, that she’s okay? How could I have known those things before you even woke up?”

He said nothing. I didn’t know what he was thinking because I couldn’t bear to look at him. I just kept pacing. And thinking. How could he be convinced?

Inspiration struck. “You told me a lot about your childhood, back when that’s all you could remember. You told me about having your first surf lesson when you were nine, and how your dad’s girlfriend bought you ice cream and took your picture. You said your mother was an actress, that she was a star on one of the soaps. She did commercials, too, and your favorite was one she did with a dressed-up dog.”

“Kali,” I heard him say hoarsely, but I went on. I was afraid to stop.

“You showed me a scar on your forehead, and you told me that a ramp broke and you went over the handlebars of your—”

“Kali!” he repeated, louder.

Reluctantly, I stopped my feet and turned. I cast a glance in his direction and his eyes caught and held mine.

“Will you stop?” he said good-naturedly, a smile playing on his lips. “Sheesh, you’re making me dizzy! I can do without the rundown of every embarrassing thing that ever happened to me when I was a kid. I believe you, okay?”

My heart skipped a beat. “You do?” I squeaked.

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

The blood in my veins began to warm again. “Why
wouldn’t
you?” I repeated. “Because it’s the most ridiculous, messed up, unbelievable story ever! It makes no sense. Why
would
you believe it?”

To my amazement, he laughed out loud. “Don’t ever go into sales, Kali. You’d totally suck at it.”

“Thanks,” I returned in an appropriate deadpan, pretending annoyance.

In reality, I was fighting another urge to go jump on him.

“Please,” he begged. “Come sit down again. You really are making me dizzy.”

“Sorry,” I said, sitting. “You mean it? You really believe I’m telling the truth? About everything?”

“It is some pretty weird stuff,” he said thoughtfully. Then his eyes began to twinkle. “But if it brought you here, hey — I’ll take it.”

I melted in my chair. If he kept looking at me like that, I’d be a puddle on the floor.

“Besides,” he continued. “I am cheating, kind of. I may not remember anything about being in Oahu, but whatever happened did seem to… well, leave an impression on me.”

My head snapped up. “How?”

He let out a long, slow breath. “The first thing I remember after the accident is hearing people talking. Nurses and doctors, I guess. They kept asking me to open my eyes, but I didn’t want to. I was so tired — but it was more than that. I knew they were trying to help me, but I just didn’t want to be here, with them. Plus they kept calling me Zachary — like the first day of school. It was annoying.”

I grinned. “They told me they didn’t know your nickname.”

He stared at me. “But you did. You said my name and you sounded like you knew me, like we were… close.”

My pulse pounded. “You could tell that?”

He nodded. “Now you’re going to think
this
sounds weird, but I swear, it’s true. When I heard your voice, before I ever opened my eyes, I had a picture of you in my head. I wanted to open my eyes and look at you, to prove to myself that I wasn’t making that up. But for the longest time, I couldn’t get my eyelids open. It was like trying to lift a pickup truck with one finger under the bumper… it just wasn’t happening. But I kept on working at it, and gradually it got easier, until finally I did it. At first I couldn’t see anything — the room was a blur. It took a while to clear up, and I was afraid you had left because you’d stopped talking. Then I realized you’d fallen asleep. I hated to wake you, but I wanted to see your face — I had to know if it matched the picture in my head. Once I got my hands moving, I couldn’t resist checking out that incredible hair.” He grinned mischievously. “So I woke you up. And you lifted your head and looked at me. And sure enough — it
was
you. I knew your face as well as I know my own. The only thing was — I had no clue why. I had no idea who you were; I didn’t even know your name.”

My cheeks flushed with warmth. I could only hope I looked rosy, rather than manic. “So you do remember,” I said in a half-whisper. “At least, some part of you remembers some of what happened.”

“I must,” he agreed. “Although it’s maddening to get such a tiny glimpse of the whole picture. To think that I’ve lost all memory of seeing you stroll along Sunset Beach in a bikini… that’s just criminal.”

His face was deadly serious, but his eyes were dancing, and the sight made me chuckle. “You can rest easy on that one,” I assured him. “I promise, neither you nor anyone else has ever seen me in a bikini. I don’t
do
swimsuits.”

“Well, that’s even more criminal,” he protested with a frown. “You said yesterday that I promised to teach you to swim. I did mention that the Zane Svenson School of Aquatic Instruction has a dress code, didn’t I?”

“You did,” I teased, suddenly fighting tears again. “I’ve got my official head-to-toe wetsuit all ready to go.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Fishnet?”

“Shut up!” I smacked him playfully on the shoulder. My hand tingled pleasantly from the touch of his now wonderfully solid body, but his visible flinch just as quickly filled me with horror.

“I’m sorry,” I gushed. “I didn’t think. You must be sore all over from the accident.”

He attempted a smile. “A little, yeah.”

Don’t rush it,
I ordered myself.
One step at a time.

“Have you thought about where you’ll go now?” I blurted. “I mean, to finish your recovery. You don’t want to stay in Nebraska, do you?”

His eyes looked away from me. He seemed suddenly tired. “No, I don’t,” he answered. “I’ve been working that out just this morning. The lawyer who’s handling my dad’s estate is helping me get a medical transport to California. He’s setting me up at a rehab hospital near his place in Malibu.”

My stomach dropped into my shoes. “California?” I repeated.

“Right,” he answered, making a lame attempt to sound cheerful. “It’s where I was headed before the accident anyway, a little stopover on the way to Hawaii. I need to work out some things with him, like seeing exactly how much I have to live on until I’m twenty-one, and figuring out what to do about college. I haven’t met him yet, but he seems like a nice enough guy. He was my dad’s friend, too, not just his lawyer.”

I sat perfectly still, staring at him stupidly. I felt like a fool. Zane might have no family, but that didn’t mean he was helpless. He could go wherever he wanted to. He had other options. He didn’t need me.

“That sounds good,” I forced out. Then I just went for it. “I was going to say, if you didn’t have any other offers, you could transfer to someplace in Cheyenne, where I live. My parents and I could make sure you have whatever you need.”

Zane’s eyebrows lifted. I could often read his thoughts, but this time I was confused. He seemed surprised… and maybe touched… but at the same time, pretty obviously horrified.

“That’s really nice of you, Kali,” he said awkwardly, looking down at his hands. “But I think I should stay near Craig and his family. At least for now.”

“Sure. Whatever,” I said quickly. “I understand. No problem.”

Can I crawl under the bed and die now?

“I thought you lived in Oahu,” he said, his voice strangely flat.

I tried to paint a smile back on my face, but failed. I couldn’t look at him. He wasn’t coming home with me. He didn’t want to. “No,” I responded, fighting another eruption of accursed tears. I had never been so crazy emotional in my life — I had to get a grip on myself. “I was only there for spring break. We live in Cheyenne, Wyoming. My dad’s—”

“But,” Zane broke in, “Weren’t you talking about plans for Oahu? About seeing me again there?”

My gaze lifted. His expression was troubled. He was trying to prop himself more upright, but his arms were trembling from the strain.

“Were you just trying to humor me?” he continued. “About doing it all again?”

“Of course not!” Hope flickered within me, even as my stomach churned to realize how physically weak the accident had left him. “I meant every word of it. We’re moving to Oahu in June — I was just about to say that.”

Zane fell back against his pillows. He looked weak and exhausted. How could I expect anything else? The guy had only just come out of a coma. Before that, he had nearly bled to death.

I waited a long moment, hoping that he would explain what had gotten him so upset, but he said nothing. He just lay still and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I’ve been here too long.”
And I’ve expected too much.
“I guess I’d better go, and… let you rest for a while.”

I started to move toward the door.

“Kali, wait,” Zane said firmly, even as his voice seemed weaker. “Come back for a second.”

My heart thudded against my ribcage. Was this the end? The last time I would see him?

I went to stand beside the bed. His complexion was frighteningly pale, but the flicker of humor I knew and loved so well still shone from behind his drooping lids. He seemed to want to stay awake and talk, but he was having to fight to make it happen.

“I want to see you again,” he said finally, his eyes holding mine. “If I promised to teach you how to swim, then dammit, I’m going to do it. I don’t know when, but it’s going to happen. If you’re in Oahu, I’ll find you. Just as soon as I’m…. more myself. Okay?”

His eyes twinkled into mine, and I felt as if the clouds had parted and the sun had begun to shine. “I’m absolutely holding you to that,” I said with a gulp. “But I’m telling you, the bikini thing isn’t happening.”

He smirked. “We’ll see.” His eyelids fluttered. It was obvious that he could barely keep them open.

“I should go,” I said softly.

“Leave your number,” he ordered, even as his eyes closed. “Write everything down for me. And don’t let—” his words began to slur.

He gave his head a shake, his eyes fluttered open for another second. “No letting anyone else teach you how to swim before I get there. Promise?”

I grinned. “That’s not too likely. Many have tried; all have failed. But yes, I promise. I’ll write everything down for you.”

His eyes closed again, and this time they stayed shut. After a few seconds, his head listed to the side. He was asleep.

I reached out a hand and ran it gently down the cheekbone of his beautiful face, entwining my fingers in a ringlet of his newly washed, golden brown hair. There was hope, still. He might not want to come to Cheyenne, but he
did
want to see me again.

Just a few months from now. In Oahu.

We were going swimming.

Chapter 3

I took a sip of diet root beer. The glass had been sitting on Kylee’s nightstand for about four hours, and it was lukewarm and flat. But I needed to soothe my throat. I’d been talking all night; I was so hoarse I could hardly understand myself.

“What happened the next time you saw him?” Kylee asked, her dark eyes sparkling. My perky, always energetic friend had already lost one night’s sleep when she had met my plane from Honolulu in the middle of the night two days ago — now she was losing another one. But she showed no fatigue. Just her usual, all-consuming curiosity.

I hadn’t been back in Cheyenne for an hour before she and Tara had arrived together on my doorstep sporting a shopping bag filled with microwave popcorn, a bag of chips, a giant tub of French onion dip, and a half gallon of black-cherry ice cream… my favorite.

“Mandatory sleepover,” Tara had announced without humor. “Pack a bag and get in the car.”

The hours since ran together in my mind. It was late now. So late, it was probably morning. But when I had called my best friends in a total panic, asking them to help me find a guy I couldn’t possibly have ever met, they had not done the sensible thing and dismissed me as delusional — they had jumped into action. Tara the bloodhound had gone online and tracked down Zane’s location with almost nothing to go on, and Kylee had made sure I got there in time. The least I owed them now was an explanation. And that’s what I’d been giving them. All night long.

“That was the last time I saw him,” I said in answer to Kylee’s question, the latest of about a hundred. “I was going to go back a couple hours later, after he had some time to rest. But before I could get there I got a call from Craig Woods, the lawyer from California. He’d flown out to Nebraska and was with Zane there in his room. He said that Zane asked him to call me and explain that his medical transport had been all arranged and that they would be leaving soon. Craig said that Zane would have called himself, but his throat was in bad shape and the doctor wouldn’t let him talk for a while. Zane wanted to tell me that he would see me in Oahu.”