by S. M. Savoy
As fast as he spent it, the rage regenerated. His magic could heal these small wounds indefinitely. With no real foe to fight, he’d never be able to spend the rage he was generating.
He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against a tree to catch his breath, wishing Nelson were in front of him. He wanted to beat him bloody, his betrayal hurt. Charlie had thought he was a friend and trusted him with Sara’s life. What a fool I’d been to trust anyone else with her life, never mind someone who’d already tried to kill her once.
Anger surged and he realized he was angry at himself the most. He’d known Nelson was a danger to her. He’d known and let him lead the search, had let him stop him from forcibly questioning Tomas. He’d known her father meant to use her. The man had never shown a spec of interest or caring, and he’d let him try to manipulate her.
This was his fault. When she’d needed him so desperately, he’d failed her. When they’d finally found clues, he’d almost failed her again. They’d arrived the day they were moving her by blind luck. One more day and she would’ve been gone again, who knows where. Nelson had almost lost her for him again, and it would have been his fault for trusting him.
So close, it had been so close.
He turned and slid limply down the tree. The lies he’d told were piling up. Liz hadn’t preformed a pregnancy test. Sara could very well be pregnant. On the yacht, she’d said she wasn’t, so he could probably fool her into believing the baby was his. She couldn’t be too far gone. He hoped she wasn’t. He didn’t want to explain the lie. But he didn’t want her to worry about it, let her think Liz had tested. The thought of her making love to Oz, of Oz touching her warm skin, skin no one had ever felt except him, hurt so badly he moaned with the pain of it.
“Fuck,” he screamed and swung in such a rage he lost track of time and place only regaining himself when he stumbled to his knees in the shredded foliage too exhausted to stand.
He sat in the pile of hacked limbs and thought about the lies he’d told and decided he could live with them all. The truth was much worse. He could lie to himself too. If she could pretend it hadn’t happened, he would too.
The smell of fresh cut wood drifting over him was somehow soothing. He tipped his head back against a tree and took deep breaths, closing his eyes and consciously slowing his breathing. For her, he could be calm. Already she was much less worried. Never again would he entrust her safety to another. Every security procedure he would vet himself. No one he didn’t interview personally would guard her. By some miracle he’d gotten a second chance to keep her safe. He vowed to himself he wouldn’t blow it this time. He headed back to her before she could start to worry again.
Todd would make dinner. It was his night to cook. Charlie could sit with Sara and Oz. They could spend one last night on the boat before heading home. One last night to sit together trying to heal before they had to face the circus that would be her father’s funeral and the reporters who were sure to hound them over the abduction.
Liz waited by the small boat that had brought him to shore. She rose and dusted off her pants, smiling ruefully.
“I didn’t know you were waiting,” Charlie said.
She offered him a brown pill bottle. “A mild sedative. Aura suppression 2.0. Before you ask, we didn’t have it available until last week or I’d have given it to you so you could leave the base. The first version wouldn’t have worked but this one is much stronger. It shouldn’t make you sleep although it will likely make you tired. I’m hoping it helps you control the rage too. You look calmer though.”
He shrugged and sheathed his sword.
“Sara’s taken one and she says it helps calm her magic.” She closed his hand around the bottle and kissed his cheek. “There’ll be lots of people at the airports and while I could summon you back to the campus, Sara will need you. Take the pills, Charlie. They should help dampen your aura enough that you don’t cause riots.”
Charlie opened the bottle and shook out a small pill. It was larger than the other pills she’d given him and a creamy yellow.
“They work fast,” Liz said. “You can take up to three an hour.”
“I thought she was just feeling better.”
“She is,” Liz said. “She can still sense you. The pills just help her relax. These aren’t traditional antidepressants but something we’ve formulated specifically to mute the magic’s push. I was afraid you’d get caught in a loop. You’re both very stressed. Give yourselves some time to recover.”
Charlie took the pills. Maybe now he’d be able to sleep.
- 28 -
Burying the Past
They traveled home together on a private plane flown by Todd. Reporters lurked at the airport when they landed. A line of armed Marines held them out of range of Charlie’s aura, although Charlie thought it probably wasn’t necessary. The pills did help, and he was more worried than angry anyway.
They were big news. The police had to clear the way so they could leave. An armed Marine escort followed.
Sara and Oz were white from the strain. A rented limousine driven by Joy took them straight home. News vans crowded the street outside of their house. Someone had hung tarps to block the view of the yard and partially rebuilt house. Reporters yelled questions as they hurried inside the garage. Stasia and Hawk were there already with Rick.
“This is a nightmare” Sara said. “We need more security for the funeral.”
“We’ll have it,” Brenda assured her.
Sara paced the small space. “Hawk, would you mind going to get Lucky and Rhea? It doesn’t feel like home without them.” When he nodded, she added hurriedly. “Don’t go alone.”
Hawk kissed her cheek and left.
She called Abby.
“Sara, I’m so glad you’re back. How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Sara said.
Charlie frowned and turned away. He had to leave the room while Sara told Abby the public version of events. Her angst didn’t show in her voice or outward demeanor, but she felt so bad it made him feel sick.
“I’m glad to be home. I’ve asked Hawk to get Lucky and Rhea. I’ve missed them so much. I can’t thank you enough for taking care of them while we were...” She trailed off. “Thank you,” she repeated as Charlie slammed the door.
He returned ten minutes later. To his surprise the girls still spoke. She’d calmed enough he’d thought she’d hung up.
Sara’s glance flicked to him and she immediately felt guilty and ashamed. It made him sad which made her sorry.
“I have to go, Abby. Thanks again.”
“I’m so glad you’re both back safe and sound. We were happy to have them. My family will miss them, and I’ll miss Hawk coming to visit them.”
Sara laughed. “I admit it was a good excuse, but I’m sure he’ll think of another.”
Abby giggled. “I hope so. I only have a few more weeks of plebe summer to get through. Then one week at home. I’ll be at school with all of you and able to see him more.”
“I forgot you were in school now,” Sara admitted. “How do you have your phone?”
“Hawk called the school and said you’d be calling me and they let me have it. Everyone here was very worried.”
Charlie took another pill and began making sandwiches, concentrating on the small task and Sara eased, speaking normally to Abby without the inner turmoil.
“Being at school with Hawk will be hard, take my word for it. It’s incredibly frustrating not to be able to touch or hold hands or anything in public. You can visit the lab whenever you like though. It’s private there, and he has his own office. I’ll cover for you.”
Abby giggled again.
“It’s the least I can do for you for taking care of my pets. Thank your parents for me, will you?”
“I will, Sara. If there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask. I know Paul considers you both his good friends. I hope we become good friends as well.”
/> “You already are.” Sara said goodbye to Abby then ordered her Valory to have fruit and flowers delivered to Abby’s parents with a thank you note.
She returned to the kitchen and sat heavily on the bench seat. “What do I need to do for the funeral. I’ve never done that before. I don’t remember my mother’s.”
Rick kissed the top of her head. “Nothing, it’s all been done. Go to the church at ten. Sit there for forty minutes or so. That’s it. A memorial is being held in Florida for his business associates to attend. Notices have been sent and flowers arranged. His body will be sent to Florida for burial. It’s all arranged, Sara.”
“Thank you.”
Charlie frowned, not liking how dull her aura was.
Rick handed Charlie a small brown bottle. “Take one every hour. It’s a mild sedative that will hopefully keep you calm enough your aura won’t cause a riot. I’ve taken them and it does help. I feel sort of disconnected, but I can still cast although it takes longer.”
Charlie waved his pill bottle at his brother and flopped to his sofa to watch Sara pace the small room while waiting for Hawk to return.
Oz headed next door to his trailer. Stasia and Rick followed him, and Sara sighed in relief, then glanced at Charlie and felt guilty. She put her head down on her folded arms on the counter.
“Go to bed, sweetheart. I’ll bring them in,” Charlie said.
She shook her head and waited. Happy relief buffeted him, waking him from a light doze when Hawk returned. Rhea danced around Sara happily and then played with Tank. Tank was overjoyed to have his playmate back. Sara laughed at their antics and felt truly happy, which made Charlie laugh too. Lucky purred and butted her head against her hand, demanding attention. Much more relaxed, Sara said goodnight to everyone and went to the tiny bedroom with Lucky held to her chest.
“Let Rhea stay with Tank, she’ll come in when she’s ready,” Sara said to Charlie as he called the dog. She rubbed Rhea’s ears again and told her to go play. The smile on her face matched her inner happiness as she stared after Rhea running back to Tank. And for the first time since they’d retrieved them, Charlie fell asleep normally and slept all night.
* * *
Charlie’s parents arrived the next day. Sara flushed red when his mother hugged her and told her how glad she was to have her back. Charlie knew she was mortified with embarrassment and sick with guilty nerves. She sat beside him on the small couch with her head down.
He tried to keep the talk light, asking his father about work, and Sara eagerly joined the change in conversation. He had a hard time focusing on the small talk. The pills made him sleepy, but he took another. She’d never face Tomas alone again. For a moment his anger surged and then he remembered Tomas was dead. He rubbed his forehead, yawning deeply,
“Will Tara be attending,” Mary asked, and Sara’s surge of anxiety pushed through the fog surrounding him.
It made Charlie sad how strained and awkward she felt with his parents. He needed to do something about Tara.
Sara and his mother went to Oz’s trailer to help Camila prepare dinner for everyone.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Charlie turned to his father.
“I have no idea what to do about Tara. Just the thought of seeing her scares her. Should I tell Tara not to go?”
“Joy’s handling it,” Rick whispered as he glanced to the door.
“Handling it how?” John whispered back, his eyes narrowing.
“Tara must have a million dirty secrets.” Rick turned his glowing blue eyes on his father. “She went to find some. If she can’t find anything, Stasia will lie her head off about Tara. We can make bad stuff up too. We won’t let her hurt Sara.”
His father frowned unhappily. “All these secrets and lies, this isn’t good.”
“It wouldn’t be my first choice,” Charlie murmured quietly. “If she leaves Sara alone, I’ll leave her alone. If she wants war, we’ll give it to her.”
The women returned from next door.
“Camila shooed us out. The kitchen is too small…” Mary trailed off as the men straightened and leaned away from each other.
When John looked away flushing, Sara murmured an excuse and fled to her room, crying, deeply humiliated.
“Smooth, Dad,” Charlie said sarcastically and followed his wife.
“I need another pill,” Rick muttered.
John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Mary gently patted his shoulder. “We’ll get through this in time. She feels bad. We all do. She’s embarrassed even though she doesn’t remember it. In time, she’ll realize we don’t hold it against her.”
“We’re all embarrassed,” John murmured.
* * *
The closing door cut of his mother’s reply. He held his wife while she tried to hide her embarrassment. She was thinking hard, and he let her be, letting the familiar feel lull him to sleep.
The next morning Sara emerged from the bedroom wearing a plain, high-neck, long-sleeved dress with black gloves. Her hair was back, braided tightly into a bun, not a wisp escaping, and her blue eyes were swollen and red from crying. Charlie followed in his dress uniform. He’d given up telling her she didn’t need to feel bad. He wished he could make her forget her damned father completely. That she might be feeling bad about that asshole’s death angered him so much it scared her. He said nothing and took two pills.
She clutched him, laying her face on his chest and cried again but her fear eased, his touch easing her, which lessened his anger. They were stuck in a damned loop. He couldn’t wait for this day to end.
His parents borrowed the bedroom to change, and they headed to the funeral. Reporters and photographers lined the street outside the church. Sara ducked her head and leaned into Charlie’s side, clutching his hand. Charlie glowered, happy for once his aura moved people involuntarily out of his way. The pills seemed to be working. No one screamed and ran. Rick and Stasia walked behind them, also in uniform. Oz walked with Charlie’s parents. Camila and Liz came together. Guthrie, Drew, Marcus, Harrison, Hawk, Toric, Amy, and Paul followed, all in uniform. Joy remained stealthed beside Sara. The rest of the raid wore plain clothes and spread out in the crowd.
They settled into the front pews on the left. Tara and her entourage followed and sat in the pews on the right. Flowers filled the church, sent from Tomas’s business acquaintances and employees. Charlie found the smell cloying.
Every word the minister spoke raised Sara’s distress and his anger. Caught in a loop again she began to shake against his side. Charlie nudged his father who handed him his sunglasses and the pill bottle. He turned to Sara and put his lips on her neck.
“I love you. Ignore my anger, none is for you. This is for you,” he whispered as he kissed her neck and concentrated on the warmth that flowed through his entire body from the small touch. Suddenly, she was crying in his arms, burrowed against his chest. The pastor paused as people stared, then cleared his throat and continued.
In a moment Sara sat back in her seat and used the tissues Mary handed her. The rest of the service passed in a haze for Charlie.
He kept both her hands in his. Behind his sunglasses his eyes were closed as he envisioned making love to his wife. Not the physical act, the mental one, the connectedness and contentment she brought to him. The hands in his relaxed as love echoed between them.
When the service ended, Tara came over to her. “I’m sorry about your father,” she said civilly.
“Thank you,” Sara murmured. Her body tensed against Charlie. This time Charlie’s anger made her relax against him.
Tara paused, seemingly at a loss for words. She wiped her sweating brow and turned as if to go then straightened and turned back. She finally patted Sara’s gloved hand and scurried away.
Sara sighed in relief. Her relief grew when the Scouts surrounded her. Reporters had again gathered outside of the half-rebuilt house. They swarmed the street and hollered for interviews.
She was already in bed wearing one of his sweatshirts, clutching Lucky. Neither of them spoke. He sat beside her until she dozed off. The cat peered at him from half-closed eyes, yawned, and went back to sleep.
Charlie tucked her in and went back outside where the raid had gathered. They spoke of work and tried to make small talk, but Charlie knew his anger was upsetting everyone.
“Ironic, isn’t it.”
“What is?” Brenda asked and took his arm.
“I’m angrier now.”
“You were too sad to be angry earlier,” she said and patted his clenched hands with her free one. “It’s okay to be angry. Don’t fight it so hard and just feel what you feel. You’re as guilty as Sara of trying to make yourself feel things you don’t.”
Charlie glanced to the door as it opened, and Sara stepped into the yard.
He hated how embarrassed she was and the guilt that immediately followed it.
“You’re going to strain something trying to hold it in,” Brenda said, and Oz snorted with laughter. His laughter faded when Sara joined them. It didn’t take magic to tell she was nervous. Oz was flushed now and frowning at his feet.
“You all need to loosen up a little,” Brenda said. “We’re all friends here and no one is judging. If you want to rage— rage. Go beat the target dummies.” She released Charlie’s arm to turn to Sara. “If you want to mope around being all embarrassed over something you don’t even remember, go ahead, but if you’re trying to hold back anger at your father because he was your father, don’t bother. Biology only gives you so much. My dad was an ass. I didn’t hate him, but I didn’t mourn him either. Does that make me a bad person?”
She shook her head and waved her hands at the academy grounds. “How can you be so smart and so stupid? You don’t owe that man a thing.” A thoughtful expression crossed Brenda’s face. “Charlie didn’t kill him. It isn’t your fault he’s dead. Did you know Liniar’s own bodyguard shot him?”