Keep You From Harm (29 page)

“Ready?” Lucas asks.

I look over at him and notice that the muscle in his jaw is a tight little ball. I realize the tremendous effort it took to remain silent when I couldn’t even climb up into his truck.

“Ready,” I reply, with more enthusiasm than necessary, trying to show him that I really am okay now. But as Lucas steps out of the truck and comes around to get me, I don’t move. I don’t want to go in there and face Alec again. The thought of being near him makes my skin crawl.

Lucas pulls open the passenger door and immediately appears worried as I continue to stare at the house without moving. I can tell he’s misunderstanding. He thinks I’m unable to move myself. His hand touches my arm. “Why don’t you wait here?” he suggests.

I shake my head and force myself to get out. Lucas is on edge as he watches me slowly descend. Once I’m beside him, he takes my hand and gently presses it, like he’s trying to give me some of his strength. Then he leads the way up the walk.

When Linda opens the door to us, her mouth forms a silent O of surprise.

“Hi, Linda. We’d like to talk to Alec,” I say, determined to appear calm and strong while we’re here.

“He’s in the study. Is he expecting you?”

“No,” Lucas answers and begins to move forward when Linda doesn’t immediately invite us in.

“Oh,” she laughs, putting a hand to her chest. “I’m sorry. Come in.” She stands aside so we can step into the large entryway.

“Alec!” she calls down the hallway.

From down the hall, his face pops out of a doorway before his entire body follows. “Raielle, this is a surprise,” he smiles widely. “Hello, Lucas.”

“They say they want to talk to you,” Linda explains with obvious curiosity.

Alec looks carefully at both of us. “Come into the study, kids. Linda, I don’t think we’ll be needing anything,” he tells her, subtly dismissing her. She seems like she wants to protest, but then thinks better of it, offering us a hesitant smile before retreating into the other room.

Alec watches as we file past him into his study. But I don’t look at him. Instead, when I enter the room, I notice the large picture window that fills the opposite wall. Because of the darkness beyond it, I see only my transparent reflection hovering before me. It mesmerizes me, looking like an apparition, growing larger as I approach it, taunting me with my own wide and anxious eyes. I squeeze those eyes shut, making myself turn away from it. When I open them again, I focus on a glossy wood desk against another wall—on it are a monitor and keyboard. The monitor is set to a screen saver of Penelope laughing as she sits on a swing at a playground.

“I still feel perfectly fine,” Alec comments as he motions us toward the couch beside his desk. He pulls over a chair and sits down across from us. “Maybe the disease is gone. Maybe you’re even better than you think.” Then he winks at me.

“It’s not gone,” Lucas says.

I swivel my head in his direction.

“Raielle has it,” he states, and I can tell he’s seething. I’m stunned. I can’t believe he just told him this after we agreed not to.

Alec stares at me. “What?”

“Something went wrong. How lucky for you.” Lucas’s eyes are shooting darts at Alec.

Alec’s gaze is still on my face. “You mean I’m not going to get sick? I’m going to be all right?”

My loathing for him twists inside me. Its takes all my self-control to swallow my rage and nod reluctantly, confirming the hope that brightens his face. When he begins to smile, Lucas is up like a shot.

I push myself up, too, and grab Lucas’s arm as Alec stands in reaction to us. Lucas looks like he’s ready to pummel him. “That’s not why we’re here,” I say, trying to calm him.

With his eyes still on Alec, he clenches his jaw.

“We’re here for information,” I say to Alec. He turns quizzical eyes on me. “I want to find my father. I need you to tell us everything you know about him.”

His eyebrows arch up. “Your father?” Then his expression fills with understanding. “I see. You’re hoping he can help you.” He absently runs his hands over his face, and I can see the relief that washes over him as our news slowly sinks in.

When he gives us his attention again, his eyes are red with suppressed emotion. “I’m happy to tell you what I know, but it isn’t much,” he begins. “His name is Rainard Blackwood and back then he was a businessman from Los Angeles. He owned a small trade publishing company, I think. I don’t remember what they published.” Alec notes my surprise at his name. “Yes, you were probably named after him.”

But that isn’t all that surprises me. “She took his last name,” I say, completely astonished. “I really do have my father’s last name.”

“You didn’t know?” Alec asks.

I shake my head.

“Is that it?” Lucas demands. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“It’s an unusual name. That should be enough to locate him if he wants to be found,” Alec says.

“Fine. Let’s go.” Lucas takes my hand.

I don’t move. “Alec, please don’t tell Kyle and Chloe what really happened. Let them believe what you did at first, that I got rid of it completely, that no one has it now.”

He studies me for a moment. “You really are an extraordinary young lady. Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.”

“Thank you,” I take a breath, feeling tired again. “You should also know that I called the police.”

He nods, seeming unconcerned. “I thought you might.”

“Come on,” Lucas urges. This time I allow him to lead me to the door.

“Raielle,” Alec says, halting us with Lucas’s hand on the knob.

I turn back to him.

“I do wish you luck.”

Lucas snorts his disbelief as he pulls open the door and nudges me out into the hall.

“I can’t believe you did that,” I hiss at him once we’re back in his truck. “You were the one who said we should keep him in the dark. Instead, you went and made his day.”

He bangs his hand against the steering wheel. “I lost it, okay? The prick winked at you. He fucking winked!”

I lean my head back against the seat feeling too tired to continue this. “Please just take me home,” I say. Even though my eyes are closed, I know Lucas is staring at me. Finally, I hear him put the keys in the ignition, and I’m asleep before he even turns onto the next street.

T
hree
days later, I wake up to terrible pain. It’s shooting through my body, but the spots at the base of my neck and in my right wrist burn the strongest. I try to relax my muscles. My right hand is fisted in the sheets, but I force my fingers to uncurl. I begin to take steady, even breaths. Finally, the coil of energy begins to form. I unravel it, sending it out, letting it flow through me. It takes longer than usual this time, but gradually, the pain eases. I maintain the energy until the burning sensation fades completely. Then I sigh in relief. My relief is so strong that I just lie there, listening to my own ragged breathing, as my heartbeat returns to its normal rhythm.

Beside me, my phone vibrates. I reach for it, and my hand bangs against the nightstand. I quickly become alert as I sit up and stare at my right hand. Then I grab it with my other hand and gasp. I can’t feel my own touch. My right hand is completely numb.

Using my left hand now, I press on my fingers, massaging them along with the rest of my hand, trying to bring some sensation back. But there’s nothing. From my wrist down, I feel absolutely nothing. Staring at my hand now, I try to move it, and I release the breath I’ve been holding when it obeys me. It’s awkward, but if I concentrate, I can use my hand. I can make a fist, and wiggle my fingers.

I pick up my phone again with my left hand, and I place it in my right. My fingers close around it, but I can’t maintain my hold on it. The phone drops onto the bed. The tumors are gone again, but this time they left some damage behind. I cradle my hand and hope this isn’t permanent. I really may not have the little over two weeks that are left.

Since I’m a righty, getting through my morning routine is difficult. I end up wearing my hair down because I can’t manage anything else, and I throw on a little print sundress with no buttons or zippers that I haven’t worn since living in San Diego. I’m only holding myself together right now because I’m in deep denial. I don’t want to accept the fact that I’m running out of time.

When I hear Kyle and Chloe chatting about Alec’s continued good health, I skip breakfast and make the walk to school with Myles. Obviously, Alec has not told them what really happened and for some reason, I’m not surprised that he’s kept his word about that.

I know from checking in with Detective Brady that Alec has been called into the local police station here in Fort Upton for questioning twice. Apparently, he’s denying everything. I was told that eventually I’d have to go down there, too, to give a statement in person. So far, Kyle and Chloe are blissfully unaware that this investigation is taking place. They know nothing about Alec’s guilt, and no one has told them. If he’s ever arrested, it will come out. I’m not surprised that Alec is denying all involvement. I’d be more shocked if he admitted to it. Detective Brady assures me that Rob Jarvis will make a deal that includes testifying against Alec. At least, that’s their plan. I appreciate that he’s willing to keep me informed.

Lucas meets me on the front steps of the school and gives me a morning embrace along with a kiss that lasts a little too long and begins drawing cheers. I break away embarrassed, but he just smiles, unbothered by the attention.

“Friday night,” he says, reminding me. But I need no reminder.

I smile, looking forward to it. The other day, Lucas told me that Liam asked why he was never home anymore. After some insisting from me, we agreed that he would spend the next few nights with his family. I know he needs the distraction. Watching me each day is an excruciating waiting game for him. He tries to pretend otherwise, but he can’t hide the dark circles beneath his eyes or the quiet concern that keeps him uncharacteristically subdued. Somehow, I’m able to deal with my condition better than he is. I guess that’s because it’s happening to me. If anything ever happened to him, I would undoubtedly be a complete mess. But we’re both happily anticipating Friday night. Friday night, he told me, he has something special planned. I’m pretty sure I’m collecting on my rain check.

There’s a pop quiz today in history, and I’m soon regretting that Lucas and I sit next to each other in class. I can almost feel his scrutiny as I awkwardly try to write out my answers. Since my left hand writing is about as legible as one of Penelope’s scribbles, I switch to my right hand. I’m actually doing a better job with my right when the pen isn’t slipping out of my fingers and clattering onto the floor. When this happens for the third time, Lucas bends down, beating me to its retrieval. As he’s handing it back to me, he asks, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing
,
”
I mouth, returning to my test.

The rest of the morning goes smoother since there’s no writing required beyond taking notes. But Lucas hasn’t forgotten history class. Before lunch, he appears at my locker. “Let’s go outside and talk.”

Since I know I can’t avoid this conversation, I agree. When he takes my right hand in his, and I feel nothing, I find myself on the verge of tears. I never thought about this consequence.

He leads me to a patch of shade beneath a tree. We both sit down on the grass, and he takes my hands in his. He turns them over, examining my wrists and forearms. I know he’s looking for lumps. “I don’t see anything,” he says, running his fingers along my skin. “Why couldn’t you hold your pen?”

I bite down on my bottom lip. His eyes are searching mine for answers. It feels like he’s bracing himself for bad news. “My right hand is numb,” I say.

His brow wrinkles as he takes my hand in both of his. “You can’t feel this?”

I shake my head.

“Since when?” he asks.

“Since this morning.”

He rubs his hands along both sides of mine. “Nothing?”

“No. When I dissolved the tumors this morning, I lost all feeling in it. I’m not sure what’s going on.”

“It’s getting worse,” he states. “That’s what’s going on.”

I nod, and look over at the other students sitting on the grass nearby. They’re talking and laughing like they don’t have a care in the world. I feel a pang of regret as I watch them, missing something I never had in the first place.

“I still can’t find anything on your father. You get nothing when you type his name into search engines. I called around to all the business organizations I could find in California, and he’s not known anywhere. I can’t link him to any publishing company that’s located out there.” He pauses, shifting on the grass. It looks like he’s building up to something. “We could try talking to your grandmother,” he suggests too nonchalantly. “She might be able to tell us more.”

I immediately begin shaking my head. I can feel my stomach churn at the thought of it.

“We should go see her,” he states firmly, no longer being delicate about it.

“No, Lucas.”

“Even if she doesn’t know anything else about your father, maybe she can help you.”

My eyes widen in horror. “No!”

“Ray, please…”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. She can’t help me. Her power isn’t nearly strong enough. Even if she could, all she would do is pass this on to someone else. There’s no way I’ll agree to that. I don’t know how you can even suggest going to her.”

He leans toward me. His eyes pierce me with their intensity. “Because I’m desperate. I’d do anything to help you,” he bites out. Then he stills. “Wait a minute. You could give it to her. That’s perfect. She’s a blood relative. Maybe that’s why it didn’t work with Alec. He’s Penelope’s blood, not yours. Maybe that’s why once it was inside you, you couldn’t give it to him. I bet you could give it to your grandmother though.”

I lean away from him shaking my head again. I see the logic in what he’s saying, although there’s no way to be sure it would work. But it doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t knowingly harm someone, not even her. I’ve gradually come to understand how relieved I am not to have passed this disease onto Alec no matter how much I loathe him. I would never tell this to Lucas, but I’m grateful the healing backfired. I think about the selfishness of my grandmother, and the horror she inflicted on Lucas’s family. I remember the way my mother buried her pain and lost herself in addiction. Now I think I can understand the self-loathing she felt after what happened with the boy who had leukemia, and then again with Kelvin’s son. I don’t need any more examples of how misusing my healing power could change me, and twist me into someone I would never want to be.

Lucas reaches out and grips my arms. I can tell he’s gearing up for a monumental argument about this. I need to make him understand.

I pull his hands off me and grasp them tightly. “I won’t use my power to cause harm to others, not even to my grandmother, not even to save myself, especially not for that reason.”

When he opens his mouth to protest, I reach for the back of his neck with both my hands, and I get right in his face. He needs to know exactly how serious I am.

His frantic eyes settle and then focus on mine.

“Listen to me,” I begin. “If I cross that line, I might as well let this disease destroy me now, because I would cease to exist. In my place would be a monster who is no better than my grandmother.”

I stare into his blue depths, trying to silently communicate my unwavering stance, watching closely as his desperation reluctantly changes to understanding and then gradually to pain.

He takes my hands from around his neck and lowers them, holding them in front of him. “What if we find your father and that’s all he can do?” he asks. “Move your disease into someone else? What then? Will you refuse his help?”

I’ll have to refuse it. Lucas must be realizing that now. If he knows me at all, then deep down, he knows my answer. “Let’s just find him first. Okay?” I ask. I can hear the plea in my voice. I need him to leave this alone. I won’t talk about worst case scenarios with him. It won’t do us any good.

I watch as he struggles against his need to change my mind and purposely calms himself down. His jaw clenches and then relaxes as he reclaims his hand and runs it over his rough cheek. “Okay,” he finally says softly, glancing away from me after a long silence.

When he turns back, his neutral mask is firmly in place. For once, I’m relieved to see it there, but I’m afraid he’s only decided to table the argument for now.

“There are local records kept when businesses apply for any kind of a license or permit,” he says. “If your father owns a business in Los Angeles, his name and the business exist on a register. If we’re there to do the legwork, it’s going to be easier to track him down .We need to leave now. We need to be there.”

I find that I’m resigned to leaving now. I nod my agreement.

“We’ll go tomorrow. I’ll get us some plane tickets.” He waits for my argument. When he receives a tremulous, but grateful smile instead, the tightness around his eyes eases. He exhales softly and places his hands on either side of my face. My cheeks warm when he gently rubs his thumbs over them. Then he leans in and kisses me tenderly.

I can still hardly believe he’s in my life. I’ve never had anyone care about me this way. I never imagined anyone would. I only wish I wasn’t the cause of so much worry for him. He deserves happiness and normalcy. I don’t think he’ll ever have those things with me.

His lips leave mine, and they move up to my ear. “I love you,” he whispers.

I pull in a sharp breath as his words trigger silent tears that begin to roll down my cheeks. When he sees them, he softly kisses them away.

Since I first saw that picture of us on my phone, dancing together at the prom, I’ve understood that I’m in love with Lucas. The way he looked at me in that photo, like I was the most precious thing in the world to him, had me wondering if he felt the same way. But I was afraid I was reading too much into it. I was afraid to really believe it. Never did I imagine that I would hear those words from him or want to say them back. After all Lucas has been through with his family, after all the baggage I’ve unloaded on him, I’m amazed by his willingness to lay his heart on the line for me. I’m stunned by his bravery.

I lean back and wait until our gazes meet. “I love you, too,” I say softly. “So much.”

His eyes lock on mine, and it feels like he’s trying to see inside me to confirm my feelings. I hope he sees the truth. He deserves to know it as surely as I do. Then he kisses me again, and I can taste my salty tears on him.

“I didn’t know how I was going to tell you goodbye when you left,” he says, stroking my face, watching me closely. “Now that we’re going to California together, once you’re well, I’m going to stay for a while if that’s okay.”

He’s apprehensive, waiting for my response. I wonder how he can doubt what my answer will be. My only doubts are not about him. “Of course it’s okay,” I say with a grin spreading across my face. “Stay until classes at Columbia start,” I add optimistically, wanting to reassure him.

He doesn’t return my smile. “You’re going to be fine. You have to believe that.” His tone is one of determination. But I know him too well now. I see it in his eyes. He fears for me, but he’s working hard to appear confident. We both know that a happy summer together in California is much more of a wish than a certainty. That fact hangs heavy between us. As the bell rings, I’m afraid Myles got it right. I probably will hurt Lucas in the end. When I do, I wonder if he’ll think it was worth it.