The prospect of waiting a full twenty-four hours to find out if she was okay gnawed at my insides.
And three days later, my insides were barely there because everything had rotted away with terror.
I’d trained harder in her absence on less food than I ever had before, but I was at the center religiously, and each time, something inside me died a little more when she failed to show up.
Was she avoiding me?
The jerks who worked here wouldn’t tell me shit.
I’d grabbed a couple of hundred from the bank account my parents had set up so I could buy school stuff, and even though I’d have to account for it later, it was worth it—I had a phone. I just needed to get it to Theodosia so this would never happen again.
Because I refused to believe she was ghosting me.
I just couldn’t handle that.
After five solid days of no contact, the level of despair I was feeling bordered on insane. It also angered me. I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with me, but I felt manic. Depressed. Enraged and outraged.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t healthy, and my anger was aimed at Theodosia for putting me through this, but that didn’t stop me from going to the center for another two days straight.
I promised myself, after a week of no contact, that would be it. I’d stop going, stop waiting on her. I’d had three ‘lates’ marked on my record for pushing it to the last minute before getting to registration, and though Mom had nailed me to a cross over it, I didn’t care.
Nothing mattered.
Nothing except for this ache inside me. A bone deep chill that I couldn’t seem to get over unless I was in the water. That seemed to bring me up to temp, but unless I was wearing a shit ton of sweaters and tees, I was always fucking cold at the moment. And with it being spring, and nice and mild, I looked weird as hell wearing sweaters that would have warmed me up mid-winter.
I’d given up, I had to admit. Knowing she’d ghosted me fucking killed me, so when I saw her eight days after that last time, I stormed over to her, full of anger and hurt and fucking joy that she was there.
But the anger and hurt waned the second I saw her.
She’d been ill.
Christ, she still looked it.
Confused, I hesitated by the doors. Our routine was to meet in the pool, not out by the atrium.
Why wasn’t she in the water?
Had she come here only to tell me to get the hell out of her life?
I hovered, uncertain if I could deal with that, then she saw me, and I almost dropped to my knees as our eyes connected.
The heat that filled me was enough to make the days of cold disintegrate into memory. She shuddered like she felt it too, and the involuntary action kickstarted me into moving.
Stalking over to her, I dropped to my knees at her side.
“Where the hell were you?” I ground out, but she heard the hurt, sensed the concern, and her hands reached over to cup my cheeks.
“I-I was sick.”
My eyes widened, but I took her in, confirming what I’d judged earlier—she looked pale and wan. I had to stop myself from sinking into her hold, because God, it felt good.
“Are you better?” I rasped.
She shrugged weakly. Tiredly. And her hands flopped from my cheeks like she was too exhausted to keep them up. “Not really. But I knew you had to be worrying.” Her mouth worked noiselessly for a second. “I tried to come sooner. I promise,” she whispered.
My heart was in my throat, but I accepted her understatement—worrying? More like outright terror—with merely a nod. No way was I about to tell her how I’d felt like I was going crazy with no contact from her.
She’d think I was nuts, and while I was starting to wonder, I didn’t want to freak her out. And if she thought I was weird, obsessive or something, maybe she’d ghost me for real. I couldn’t deal with no contact from her. Couldn’t handle it.
Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with me?
Clasping her hand in one of mine, I twisted so I could lower my backpack to the floor.
She frowned, staring at the bag as, one-handed, I tried to unfasten the zipper.
“Use both hands,” she muttered, but my fingers tightened around hers.
I wasn’t letting her go.
Not yet.
No fucking way.
It was awkward until she pressed her hand to the bag and helped me. When I pulled out a phone, new and still with the protective plastic film on it, she stared at it, then me, and held out her palm to receive it.
“Thank you,” she murmured, and I released a shaky breath loaded with relief.
“No arguing?” I’d kind of expected to have to force this on her, but on day six, feeling like I was on the brink of being certifiable, I’d had to act. Had to do something proactive, and getting her a phone had felt like the way to go. When this was over, I’d thought, it would never be able to happen again.
“No arguing,” she confirmed. A tremor racked her, and she muttered, “I really should go back to bed. I just... This is the first day I could stand, and I had to come to you.”
The chaos in my head felt like it was drowning me. I was joyous at being with her, terrified at her having walked all the way she had to get to me. But relieved too.
The cacophony was only drowned out by the heavy throb of my heart that deafened me.
“Are you cold?” I asked, and I wasn’t sure what made me ask it, but I just needed to know.
She shivered. “Yes. Have been since a week ago.”
It was crazy. Could the cold I’d been feeling be tied to hers?
No.
That wasn’t possible.
Right?
But none of this felt like it could be possible. Maybe I really was losing my goddamn mind?
It didn’t stop me from thinking of her though. From inquiring, “I know you have to get home, and I’ll take you there myself. I have the money for a cab. But I want you to come into the pool.”
She shook her head. “No, Adam,” she whispered weakly, “I don’t have the energy.”
“You don’t have to swim. I promise. Just, please, get into the water.”
There were bruises under her eyes, and those bronze orbs looked haunted, even as she stared at me with a longing she couldn’t feign.
I hated that we’d have to part for her to go into the women’s changing room, but I was determined to get her into the water.
I didn’t understand what the fuck was happening here, but I knew she’d feel better the second she was in the pool because I had. I’d felt better whenever I was in the shower too.
Reaching out, I rubbed my thumb over her thin cheek. She’d already been on the skinny side, her muscles from her training a little too prominent, but now? She didn’t have an inch to spare.
I wanted to care for her, wanted to fill her belly with food, but my options were limited.
She released a shaky breath and muttered, “I do miss the pool.”
Knowing how much she loved swimming, I could see how she’d miss it after a week away.
“Just take it slow in there. Don’t get changed too quickly.”
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” she mumbled.
“I can buy one from the store here.”
She winced. “You’re spending too much on me.”
“I’d spend more if I could,” I returned, meaning every word.
Our eyes connected, and the depth of how much I’d missed her sank into my bones.
It was like a ghoul, clinging to me, a specter I couldn’t see, could only feel.
The week had worn on me, twisted me, churned me into a ragged mess, but now? Here? I could breathe.
And I needed to care for her.
Needed to make her feel better.
The urgency inside me was powerful, enough to charge me into getting to my feet, and heading over to the attendant who had gone from my thinking he was just fucking weird into outright hating him for his refusal to help me.
He sniffed, blew his goddamn nose once more—how much snot did this fucker have in his head?—then left his bulletproof nest, and retreated to a glass display cabinet that contained the few items the center had on sale.
You could buy the usual, nothing fancy—ear plugs, goggles, swimsuits, and flotation devices.
The second I saw them, I realized she needed one of them, so I pointed to the foam surf board and stated, “I’ll have that too, please.”
He grabbed one, twisted to look at Theodosia, eyed her up in a way that made me grit my teeth, then reached for a swimsuit.
“Medium be okay?”
I had no idea. She looked small to me, but she was kind of tall, strong, even if at the moment she was thinner than I’d have liked.
“Thea?” I called out, trying not to be too loud to disturb her.
She looked at me and her eyes were warm. It was the first time I’d called her that, but it felt right. Her name was Theodosia, but we’d gone beyond that. I wanted a name that belonged only to me to cross my lips.
“Yeah?”
“Medium okay?”
She eyed the suit in the attendant’s hands and nodded.
I got out more money for the board, grateful I still had a hundred dollars remaining in my wallet, enough for a cab to her place and to my school, and paid the man as he passed me my purchases.
Returning to her side, I gave her the swimsuit and murmured, “Let me help you onto your feet.”
“If I can’t stand by myself, I’m not sure I should be getting into the water,” she said drolly, her dry humor coming out to embrace me.
“I’ll be there to help you.” I reached over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll always be there.”
She sighed, and it sank into my bones.
Because I could have sat there all day, close to her but never close enough, I reached for her hands and helped haul her onto her feet. Guiding her to the changing room, I advised, “Take things slowly. Don’t collapse in there.”
She snorted. “I’ll do my best to obey.”
“See that you do.” My lips twitched, and I watched her head down the walkway that led to the changing area.
Quickly, I busted ass and went to the men’s. Once I was inside, I changed and rushed into the pool, dumping the flotation device I’d bought at the end of the lane she liked to use, then moving over to the women’s entrance which was at the opposite end of the arena.
I stood there, waiting, and when she appeared at the corridor, just beyond the wading pool, I peered behind me, saw there was no one except for the lifeguard who was on his phone, and snuck down there.
When I could, I slipped my arm around her waist and helped her through the shallow pool.
The second her feet connected with the water, she sighed, and whispered, “That feels better.”
“It does?” Relief filled me. I helped her out into the main area, and carefully guided her into a seated position.
When her feet were dipped into the pool, she smiled at me, and without my aid, shoved herself into the water.
The second she was immersed, my heart pounded and I leaped in after her. Grabbing the board, I pushed it toward her as soon as she surfaced, and she leaned against it, instantly paddling.
“These past couple of days, this is the only place I’ve been able to get warm,” I admitted. “I felt like maybe you’d feel the same.”
Her brow puckered. “Why? Did you come down with the flu or something?”
I tilted my head to the side. “No. I just felt cold all the time.”
She bit her bottom lip and averted her gaze from mine. It was the latter that made me frown. “Louisa, the daughter of my foster parents, almost died.”
“She’s okay now?”
Thea shook her head. “No. But she’s more comfortable. They transferred her to a hospice. Things have been weird around the house ever since. Emma and Jon have been there most of the time.”
Which meant she’d been ill and dealing with it herself.
My throat tightened at the thought. “I-I can come over tonight.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I do.”
“You can’t. It wouldn’t be fair—Emma and Jon have never let me have people over. I don’t want to cause them any stress—”
“These past few days haven’t been great, Thea,” I butted in. “I missed you.”
Her eyes softened. “I missed you too.” She sighed and began kicking her feet. “You’re right, the water has made me feel better.”
I smiled at her. “I’m glad. Just take it easy though. I don’t want you to swim a hundred lengths, just… I don’t know, get a feel for the water.”
Her lips curved, and the somberness of moments before had disappeared. “Thank you, Adam.”
“For what?”
“Being you.”
My lips twitched. “I can’t do much else but be me.”
“Not true.” She grabbed a tight hold of the foam board and hefted herself onto it more. “If I tell you something, I don’t want you to freak out.”
I knew what freaking out was. After this past week? Hell. Nothing she said could trigger a worse reaction in me than her disappearing the way she had.
I reached over, rubbed my hand down her arm, relishing in her proximity and the feel of her against my fingers. “I promise I won’t.”
Well, I could keep that promise so long as she wasn’t telling me she was moving. I knew her foster family only had kids there for the welfare check that covered the mother’s wage and allowed her to care for her sick daughter.
The possibility suddenly became reality, and fear walloped me even as she muttered, “We have gifts in my family.”
“Gifts?” Relief swirled inside me—she wasn’t talking about moving. “Like, the swimming, you mean?”
Her gaze darted to mine. “No. But, I mean, that’s a gift too, I guess. I think that’s training more than anything. I’ve always swam since I was small. We used to travel around the country, visiting racing stables.” Her lips curved. “We spent a long time at one place in Kentucky. There was a river there. Papa taught me how to swim. After, when he died, Momma did too, and I went back to Nanny’s. She encouraged me to swim, so I did. It became all I cared about for a little while.”
Her sad past made me want to fill her future with happiness, but I could only do that if she let me.
These last eight days had revealed that to me.
“It let you connect with him?”
“That, but it also helped me forget.” She shot me a sad smile. “He was a good Papa, but not the best husband. In our world, violence isn’t that unusual, and Momma often had bruises and stuff. When I saw that, I knew I had to be a good girl, so I could escape in the water. It was a time when I didn’t have to worry about always behaving. After he died, swimming turned into a coping mechanism. But I wasn’t talking about swimming.
“It’s something that was in my momma’s line. I don’t know if it’s all Roma, or just the Kinkades, but we have gifts. Momma was magnificent with horses. She was like a horse whisperer, and my papa used that with his business. He used to get jealous, I think. About her skills. Men are the ones who work in our families, not the women, but he needed her. Especially with the difficult horses. They were the ones that earned the most money.”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what had happened. “You told me he fell off a horse, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “I did. There was this stallion that a stable owner in Kentucky wanted him to ‘fix.’ He wouldn’t let anyone get close enough to touch him, never mind saddle him. Papa had a reputation built on Momma’s skills. So he went in, tried to be the big man, and fell for his efforts. Momma couldn’t live without him. She was weak.”
There was so much wrong with that statement that I wasn’t sure where to begin. Instead, I just gaped at her, and when sh
e looked at me, her lips twitched. “It’s okay, Adam. I grieved her weakness a long time ago.”
“If that was her skill,” I began hesitantly, deciding it was wise to change the subject a little, “what’s yours?”
“I share the gift with my nanny. I can read auras, and through them, I can do other stuff.”
My eyes flared at that. I knew what she was saying was crazy, but it also made sense. “That’s how you knew Cain was—”
She huffed. “Evil? Exactly. I knew he was lying about his name too.” Thea ducked her eyes from mine. “I know what I’m telling you is strange, and you don’t have to believe me—”
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Either way, I know you can see beneath Cain’s bullshit where no one else has. He has everyone under his spell. Our parents, the teachers, our coaches… Everyone. Except you.” I reached for her hand, laced my fingers with hers. “Thea, what’s the other stuff you can do?”
For a second, she just contemplated me, and I got the feeling she was trying to judge whether or not to be candid with me. I wanted so badly to be let into the inner circle, even as I wondered what the hell my aura was telling her—it took her long enough to listen to it.
Then, slowly, she opened the doors to her soul and let me in. “Nanny used to be able to heal. Not like miracle cures, but she could ease pain and things. She had healing hands.”
Mouth agape, I just stared at her.
Wincing, she muttered, “I know, it sounds crazy. Why do you think I’m not comfortable with telling you the truth?”
I just blinked.
Another huff told me she was getting agitated, but she admitted, “When I got back to the house last week, I knew Louisa was dying. It was more than her aura. There was just a sense in the house.” She shivered, and my hands automatically swept around her, board and all, and I dragged her closer to me. She released the board, then slipped her legs around my thighs, hugging me to her. It was the closest I’d been to heaven, and the nearest I’d been to hell in my entire life. “It was horrible,” she whispered, and I felt guilty for being so insensitive when she was evidently upset. “I’ve only smelled that once before—in Nanny’s hospital ward. I’ll never forget it…
“Louisa’s mom was already grieving her. Like Emma knew she was near the end too. Her pain hurt me. Emma’s a good person. She dropped everything to care for her daughter, she stays by her side, researching all the time, looking for cures, for answers, ways to help her. They’ve gone around the country visiting different specialists. She fought for her daughter.”
Above The Surface Page 9