Tangled Minds (Society of Exalted Minds Book 1)

by A. M. Mahler

  That wasn’t entirely true. Jagger was my future now, and that was a comfort to know. But I didn’t know what we would do—how we would support ourselves. Could we safely go to college and get regular jobs?

  “We can’t start until his concussion is healed, of course.” My grandfather continued. “And I want you to leave that alone and let him heal the rest of the way himself. He was right to make you back off today. He was sensing the problem. He almost completely severed your pathway in the process. He needs to know how to avoid that.”

  Nodding, I rose from the couch and made my way to my room. I was emotionally, physically, and mentally depleted. I had nothing left to give. It even hurt to check in on Jagger to make sure he was still resting comfortably before I finally face planted into my pillow and dropped off into a dreamless sleep.

  I FELT BETTER when I woke the following morning, but I was still a little groggy and dragging. Not enough to miss school though, so I got myself together and drove myself. I hadn’t heard from Jagger yet, and it felt like he was still sleeping. He and I were only together for a few days before this, and still, I did not look forward to going there without him. Jagger had always had perfect attendance. His father insisted on it. He also had me giving him enough energy to get through a day when he was sick.

  Walking through the front doors, the usual buzzing of activity in my head started. I was too tired to block it out. Of course, the talk was of Jagger and Chloe hitting him with her car. Everybody around me was feasting on the “love triangle.” Team Olivia and Team Chloe were already solidly formed. To be honest, no one thought Chloe stood any kind of chance after trying to kill Jagger with her car, but everyone wanted to take part in the biggest scandal to hit Alpine Valley High.

  There was not a single thought I noticed that did not firmly believe Chloe’s actions were intentional. It was probably why Chloe wasn’t in school today.

  People generally stayed away from me throughout the morning. They were all curious, of course. How had this girl no one really knew caught the attention of Alpine Valley’s most popular athlete? Jagger was the golden boy, the all-American kid, and he was falling for a girl that most people forgot even went there?

  Perhaps I did my job of blending in too well.

  I was in art class working on a clay pot when Jagger woke up, alarmed at not finding me by his side. My fingers jerked at the sudden surge of anxiety. My tablemates didn’t seem to notice though. That was the good thing about this class. Occasionally, there was conversation, but for the most part, everyone kept to themselves and enjoyed their quiet time with their art.

  “Livvy, baby, are you okay?”

  Not going to lie, I really liked when he called me “baby” and that he’d made up a nickname for me.

  I’m fine. I’m here. I’m in art right now.

  “Why aren’t you here with me?” He demanded. “Did my asshole dad kick you out?”

  No. I couldn’t miss school to stay there. My grandfather wouldn’t allow it, and there was no believable explanation for me to either. You should be discharged today, right?

  I was surprised by how fatigued I was just holding the link for this small conversation. Yesterday had worn me out more than I had thought.

  “Olivia, what’s wrong with you? Be honest. I know healing me hurt you this. How are you really? What was different? You can’t ever do that again. I won’t risk you.”

  I dipped my brush in the glaze and set it to the pot, working in long, lazy strokes. It was a soothing, mindless task and that was what I needed right now. I felt Jagger take control of our link and let him do the heavy lifting for a little while. Though I wasn’t sure how long he could last with a concussion.

  I don’t know why it was so different. My grandfather is working on it. Maybe because of how hurt you were? I feel zapped of all my energy. Getting through the day is hard, let alone paying attention. Jagger, listen to me. Do not try to sever our link again, at least not until you’re taught how to break off correctly. You nearly closed our pathway permanently.

  There was a pause, and I tried to figure out if maybe he had gone back to sleep.

  “You can do that?”

  Technically, it was possible, but I had never tried it before. I couldn’t sever the link to my grandfather, not if I wanted to stay protected, and I never wanted to be disconnected from Jagger. He became the only thing tethering me to sanity. There was someone else in the world like me, my age, and went to the same school. At first it was such a relief to have someone else, but then I fell in love with him. I just could not be without him. I depended on him too much.

  Oh.

  The horrifying thought crossed through my mind. This time it was my anxiety building. I’d never considered ...

  “Stop that thought. The answer is no. Empathically no. I have never not wanted to be connected to you. Not once. I would go crazy if I lost you. I would be like Renfield in Frankenstein. But yes, I do need to know how to do it. Livvy, you cannot take that kind of chance again. If I am ever beyond your help, you have to let me go, or I’ll make you. You are more valuable than me. You can’t sacrifice yourself.”

  Was that what I was doing? Had I been willing to let myself go in order to save him?

  I had.

  I set down my paintbrush, aimlessly staring at the classroom wall. Knowing everything that was on there, but not seeing any of it. He was right. I was willing to die to save him. I was only eighteen, but the thought of him not existing was not only unfathomable to me, but unacceptable. Jagger was important. I didn’t know how, but I knew he was, and I would do anything in my power to keep him alive.

  “Livvy, I need you to sign yourself out of school and come to me. You’re scaring the hell out of me. It is my job to protect you. It always has been. If it was supposed to be the other way around, Jeremiah would have told us.”

  Except Jeremiah wasn’t entirely forthcoming with information. I knew that. I was hoping now that Jagger was brought into the fold my grandfather would start explaining more. Jagger was essential to me. Although only having the ability to hear one person—me—would not make him interesting to anyone else. He didn’t have any other so-called talents, psychically speaking. What did my grandfather know that he was keeping from us? The safest thing for Jagger would be for my grandfather and me to leave—not that I could mentally survive that. Jagger was right about one thing. We were inextricably fused together. He was such a major part of my brain that if he were suddenly gone, I would well and truly go completely insane.

  “Livvy, no. Livvy, please.” Jagger was getting frantic, and that wasn’t good for a guy with a concussion.

  The bell rang, and I realized that I was lost in thought for so long, I didn’t clean anything up. I stood up and moved my pot to the drying rack then walked to the sink and cleaned my brushes. Once my workspace was taken care of, I threw my backpack over my shoulder and left the classroom. I didn’t walk to my next class. Instead, I went straight to the main office and signed myself out. I told them I wasn’t feeling well, which wasn’t a lie. I was tired, in a strange headspace, and yes, I needed Jagger.

  As I left the school, I texted my grandfather to tell him where I was going. He would understand and cover for me if the school called. Things would be better when I got to Jagger.

  I was basically thoughtless as I drove through town. The conviction that I would die for someone was messing with my head in a way that was strange. I was at peace with that realization. The trick was not thinking about it and freaking out Jagger more than he already was.

  I arrived at the hospital, registered at the visitor’s desk, and made my way to Jagger’s floor. Hospitals were depressing enough without, one, being able to hear everyone’s depressed thoughts; and two, possessing the ability to heal. People were here dying, and though I could save them, I could do nothing for them. It was hard to deny the urge to help, especially with children.

  When I walked into Jagger’s room, his mother was there. Jagger was dressed in regular cl
othes, and he held out his hand to me. I greeted his mother with a tired smile and walked to the bed.

  “Mom’s just signing me out and then I can go with you.” Jagger said.

  I looked warily from Jagger to his mother. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You have a concussion and broken ribs. Those hurt. You really should be taking it easy.”

  “See, Jagger?” His mother said. “Even Olivia knows you’re being ridiculous.”

  “You and I both know, mom, I’m in no condition to go home with him.” Jagger eyed his mother.

  “Jagger!” Janet looked scandalized. Quite frankly, I couldn’t believe Jagger had brought up his father’s abuse in front of me with his mother there either. I knew, of course. I knew everything he had endured having healed him from most of it, but she didn’t know that.

  “Why don’t I wait outside?” I suggested. I started to tug away, but Jagger gripped my hand harder.

  “No, it’s fine.” He said. “We’re fine. It’s already been decided. My mother said it was all right if I stayed with you for the weekend. If it’s okay with you and your grandfather, that is. I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

  Stunned, I looked over at Janet. She was looking down. I knew that she was ashamed. Preston would take his anger at the decision out on her, but she was willing to endure his anger if it meant Jagger would be spared. She might have been the bravest woman I knew.

  My grandfather’s voice popped in my head. “Do it. He needs to heal. I’ll make sure Preston leaves his mother and sister alone for a few days. A blinding migraine should do the trick.”

  Looking back up at Jagger, I nodded. He visibly relaxed a bit, but was still anxious. He wanted to talk to me, but he couldn’t speak freely in front of his mother. I shook my head, hoping he understood that I didn’t want him to communicate in our minds either. With the concussion, I was afraid of him overexerting himself. I pulled over the visitor’s chair and sat on the other side of the bed from his mother. She was talking to him about various extended family members that had sent well-wishes. The police had also contacted the DeWinters to see if they wanted to press charges against Chloe. Since Jagger was eighteen and technically emancipated, he could make the decision for himself, however, since he was still in school, the district attorney was deferring to his parents.

  Preston wanted Chloe’s blood. He wanted her to go to jail and ruin her life the way she could have ruined or ended Jagger’s. I wanted Chloe to be held responsible, but I wasn’t sure that she had to have an extended jail sentence.

  Court ordered mental health treatment would definitely be in order. What normal teenage girl tried to run down the boy she had a crush on for choosing another girl? There were likely some underlying issues there that needed to be dealt with.

  Finally, the doctor came with Jagger’s discharge papers, which his mother signed. Then we were given detailed instructions on caring for his concussion and broken ribs, and instructions to take Tylenol for the rib pain. I planned on healing the ribs as soon as I was feeling better.

  A nurse came to bring Jagger out in a wheelchair. His mother stayed by his side as I went to get my car and pulled it up to the doors. Once Jagger was situated in the passenger seat, I closed the door and awkwardly faced his mother.

  “We’ll take care of him.” I tried to assure her.

  “You have no idea how happy I am that he has you.” She said, quietly, before she leaned in through the window and kissed Jagger on the cheek.

  Oh, but I did know. I knew it all.

  Jagger

  I settled back against the seat and closed my eyes. I was so happy to be out of the hospital and away from my father. As soon as Olivia had left last night, he put me through the wringer on questions. I swear, I don’t think my father ever took such an interest in my life before. He wanted to know how I knew Olivia and when had we gotten close, what her plans were for college, were we dating? The fact that she gained his approval so quickly was stunning. She wasn’t from a rich family. The Millers kept to themselves and didn’t socialize to my knowledge. His interest in her was puzzling.

  I would, of course, not be following my father’s edict. I wasn’t surprised at all when he informed me that I was enrolled at the University of Colorado. If he wanted to waste his money, he was welcome to do that. I was more than happy to “leave home for college,” but I was not going to be arriving at the University of Colorado. What I needed to figure out was how to completely liquidate and close my trust. I didn’t want to put it into any account that had my name on it due to the risk of my father getting a court order to freeze all my assets. Not to mention he could find me via the paper trail that withdrawals would create. I didn’t know what was coming, but Jeremiah was definitely spooked, so something was. I wanted Olivia and I to be prepared and have resources available.

  I could feel how tired Olivia was, and her mood was ... strange. I couldn’t remember ever sensing such resignation in her before today. Her thoughts were all over the place and she was scaring the ever-loving shit out of me. I didn’t know what to do, but I was positive I needed to have her close to me.

  She reached over and grabbed my hand as she drove through town. I was happy for the connection, and we spent the entire ride in silence—no verbal speaking, no mind speaking. I never realized we could comfortably share silence. The quiet was hard to come by for her. There were so many outside voices she needed to block. I knew school could be draining for her. Some people projected louder than others, and when that happened, sometimes it was impossible to keep them out of her head.

  As we pulled into the driveway of her house, I raised our joined hands and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. How did you pay back the person who had saved your life? How could you ever properly show your gratitude? Never mind all other breaks, scrapes, and bruises I had over the years. I knew without her intervention I would have died from Chloe’s vehicular love tap. It made me sick to think about what that would have done to Olivia if I were suddenly gone from her mind permanently. I wasn’t being conceited. We’d had each other since we were five years old. I knew her inside out the same way she knew me. If I lost her, I would be in a vegetative state. I was sure of it.

  Olivia grabbed the bag my mother had packed for me from the back seat. I wasn’t much use with two broken ribs. They hurt like hell. The simplest of movements sent explosions of pain through my chest. With the head injury, I couldn’t take anything stronger than over the counter meds for the pain. Besides Olivia was just too wiped out to do anything more to help. I didn’t want to risk her anyway.

  Good times.

  I shuffled behind her with my elbow pressed to my side. “Guarding,” the hospital nurse called it. It was my body’s natural reaction to provide a buffer between anything outside my body and my ribs. Jeremiah stepped out and held the door open for us.

  “Sir,” I nodded as I walked past him and into the house.

  “I’m sorry I don’t share my granddaughter’s talent, Jagger.” He said, gruffly, as we moved into the living room. “Broken ribs can be extremely painful.”

  I turned my entire body to look at him. No spinning at the waist for me today. “Compared to where I started out, this feels like a papercut.”

  My head snapped to Olivia when I heard her breath hitch. Her eyes glistened with tears, and when one spilled over, it made a crack right down the center of my heart. I stepped forward and raised my hand up to her cheek. Of course that small gesture hurt. Cracked ribs were definitely a bitch.

  “I think,” Jeremiah said. “That perhaps some rest is in order. You both had a very emotional and physically draining day yesterday.” That was the understatement of the century. I was nearly a victim of vehicular manslaughter. “Honey, why don’t you take Jagger back to your room and maybe you two can have a nap.”

  I did my best not to show my utter surprise. He would really send two teenagers into a bedroom unsupervised?

  Then again, I remembered his skill for causing pain and realized Oliv
ia was pretty much safe from any kind of untoward advances—not that she had to worry about that from me. When I finally touched her in any kind of intimate way, it would be fully consensual. She was everything to me, and I would never do anything that made her feel uncomfortable or scared.

  I couldn’t help looking over at Jeremiah. His raised eyebrow indicated that I was right on point in my assessment. Any unauthorized touching would result in the worst possible pain of my life. Since I was pretty sure I had just experienced that lying on the pavement of the school parking lot, I didn’t want to know what his version was.

  Olivia’s room was artfully cluttered. Her work was everywhere my eye fell, but I was too exhausted to look around. She had a queen-sized bed with lots of blankets and pillows. She crawled in first, and I followed, slowly easing down and doing my best not to jostle my ribs. It was impossible though, and I hissed through clenched teeth when I was finally horizontal. As soon as I stopped moving, the comfortable warmth began to spread over the injured half of my rib cage.

  “Olivia, no!” I grabbed her hand as if I could stop her. “Don’t. You’re too weak. I told you not to do this!” I desperately searched for the pathway. How could I block her without completely cutting her off? What would that look like? Should I envision maybe filling it in with sand? Something permeable and easily able to dig out again later?

  “Just a little,” she whispered. “A band-aid so you can sleep.”

  The warmth rolled away nearly as soon as it started and with it left the dull throbbing. In its place though came guilt. It had cost her, and I could feel it. I almost felt unmanned for never having to endure pain. Having my own personal Percocet, I had a very low tolerance for any kind of pain. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

  Olivia was laying on my good side, so I slowly rolled and took her in my arms. There was a twinge of irritation, but no more so-called pain. She snuggled in and I kissed her forehead.