by Blake Pierce
And her wrist came free.
Her eyes flew open, gasping for breath and panic, the pain now beginning to set in even more. She couldn't look at her hand. She didn't dare. She kept it behind her back, ducking her head to look at the clock -
No. No, she had miscounted! She had been weak, almost delirious with the pain, unable to hold on -
Seconds remained, only seconds, and she had to get off, she had to reach out and yank the noose from her neck -
Her hands were still on it when the platform fell, and all she could do was to scramble helplessly, one hand bloodied and useless, the other not strong enough even if it had a partner. She scrambled, trying to dig her fingers under the rope to relieve the pressure crushing her windpipe, but she was not strong enough. She felt her legs kicking in the air, a terrible pressure in her head, the edges of her vision turning black as she groped desperately for a breath.
The black filled everything, and Veronica stopped kicking, her hands falling limply at her sides for the final time.
CHAPTER TWO
Laura didn’t stop moving until she reached Nate’s front door. She stood in front of his neat little house – the kind of house she could have been living in, if it wasn’t for the whole messy divorce and the alcohol and all the rest of the last few years of spiraling – and hesitated for the first time.
She literally froze with her hand up in the air, about to knock on the door but not quite getting there. For a brief and ridiculous moment, she felt a bit like a cartoon character, a larger-than-life movie moment that didn't seem real. Imagine, getting all the way here and then losing your nerve.
But that’s what was happening. She had been fueled during the whole drive from her apartment to here by a fierce determination that had pushed her onwards. She had decided she was going to tell him everything. He was her partner, after all, and he deserved to know the truth. If he didn't, things were never going to be the same between them again. He had already figured out that she was lying to him, and there was no way she could brush it off any longer.
Nathaniel Lavoie was a great FBI agent, and he wasn't going to be fooled by any more excuses she could give him.
The only option she had was to come clean, if she wanted to keep him as her partner. And she did. Getting back partial custody of her daughter, coming off another brutal case, knowing that staying on the wagon had the power to bring her back to the life she really wanted - all of that put together was showing her the things that she really cared about. The things that really mattered. Lacey, her daughter. Her job. And her personal relationships with the people she cared about.
Nate was one of them, and even though she had been scared for such a very long time about admitting to anyone that she had psychic abilities, Laura recognized that it was now or never.
Except...
Well, it would be a lot easier for her if it was never.
There were so many arguments for telling him, and so many arguments against it. When she'd been sitting at home, she had realized beyond any shadow of a doubt that she had to tell him right now. But here, standing right in front of his door, those arguments seemed to disappear into the void. She could barely even remember what they were. Instead, all she could picture was the way he would look at her. That way he might reject her.
Laura dropped her hand back down to her side and turned to move away.
Which was exactly when the door opened.
“Laura?” Nate asked, his deep voice a rumble in the quiet street. She could not exactly ignore it. He was right behind her. Laura froze, for a moment wishing she could just simply disappear.
But unfortunately, her powers did not seem to extend that far. She turned, looking up at him guiltily.
He was leaning casually in his own door frame, but even so, Nate still towered above her. In casual clothing, just a tight t-shirt and a pair of loose jeans, Nate somehow seemed even more intimidating than he did when he wore his FBI standard suit. The thick muscles of his arms rippled under his Black skin as he moved, and the heavy frown above his eyes did nothing to help Laura's nerves.
“Hi, Nate,” she said, trying to inject a bit of false brightness into her voice and absolutely failing. “I was just in the neighborhood...”
She trailed off, unable to think of a way to end the sentence. She was just in the neighborhood, and decided to stop by and see the person who demonstrably was not talking to her and had not been for days? She should have been able to come up with a better excuse than that, surely.
“How did it go with your custody hearing?” Nate asked, making Laura hang her head. Of course, he would remember to ask. Of course, despite everything that had happened between them lately, he was never going to be angry enough with her to forget the most important things in her life. He was just that good of a guy.
“It went great,” Laura said, allowing herself to smile just slightly. “I got weekends.”
“That’s amazing,” Nate said. The smile that crossed over his face was just as brief as hers, but it was genuine. The tension behind it wasn’t going anywhere. “Why are you here?”
Cutting right to the chase. Damn. Laura took a breath. She had a feeling that anything less than the truth was not going to convince him, not right now.
“I came here to talk,” she said. “About… well. You know.”
“I hope I do,” Nate said, raising an eyebrow. He looked her up and down, assessing. Trying to gauge whether this was going to be one more let-down, no doubt. “You’re ready to tell me the truth?”
Laura tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and nodded, swallowing nervously at the same time. She didn’t trust herself to answer him. She had a feeling her vocal chords were going to say no, all on their own.
“You’d better come in,” Nate said, moving aside to allow her through the doorway.
Laura moved through the house into a comfortable yet minimalist living room, perfectly suited to Nate's style. Everything was dark wood, the furniture outfitted in brown leather, only a few framed photographs up on a bookcase to the side of the room. Laura passed by them, catching a glimpse of Nate in his dress uniform from the day he had joined the police force. She knew he'd been a serving officer before he joined the FBI. Then there was an image of him with his parents, looking much younger, clearly a family photograph.
There was no photograph of a woman anywhere in the house, not one that he wasn't related to. Laura knew that his last relationship had ended somewhat badly, and he hadn't settled down with anybody else yet. Still, the bachelor life seemed to suit him. His home was clean and tidy, the shelves stacked with well-thumbed books. She actually envied him. He seemed so comfortable here. Her own apartment was full of second-hand, rickety furniture and bad memories. It was ironic, she thought, that she was only coming here for the first time now that their relationship was so rocky. Years of friendship, and she’d never found a reason to visit.
She took a seat on the sofa, more to keep delaying the inevitable moment than because she needed to sit. Nate settled into an armchair, set at a slight angle to the sofa, both of them facing towards a large screen television. Beside him on the coffee table was a steaming mug of coffee, and Laura found herself wishing for one. Maybe if she asked him to fix her one, that could delay the conversation even more as well...
“Well, then?” Nate asked. “Are you going to tell me?”
So much for that.
Laura took a breath. She reminded herself that she had come over here for this purpose. No matter what happened now, this had to be the right thing to do. She had already decided that so many times. She wasn't going to change her mind again, not this time. She wasn't going to get a choice. Nate was looking at her expectantly, and she needed to say something, needed to find some way to deliver the news that would soften the blow. That would make it sound more believable. That would...
“I'm psychic,” she blurted out.
Nate stared at her.
“Laura,” he said, his voice serious and ful
l of rebuke. “I've already told you I'm not going to take any more of these lies. You need to tell me the truth, right now. Or this is it, I'm not going to take any more. I'm going to go right to Rondelle and get a transfer and tell him that I have serious doubt in your abilities. Or at least, where they come from.”
“No,” Laura said, deep panic setting in already. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She should have thought this through ahead of time, come up with some kind of speech. Prepared herself. Just blurting it out was the worst possible thing she could have done. She needed to backtrack, explain, make him see. “Nate, I'm being serious. It's not a lie this time. That's how I know things. I get these... these visions. I see what's going to happen.”
Nate stared at her again for a long period of time, or so it felt to her. It must realistically have only been a few seconds, but every moment was dragging on into eternity. At the same time, it was all moving far too quickly. She felt out of control. Like she was scrambling to keep up.
“I mean,” she said, trying to make this better, any way that she could. Trying to make up for the mistakes her mouth had already made, only by piling on more. “It makes sense, if you think about it. I mean, if you really think about it. All the things that I know. How else could I know them? I just see them before they happen. I see these visions of possible futures. They don't always come true, because we can prevent them. Sometimes they’re completely wrong. But that's okay, because it means that we made a difference. Do you see what I mean?”
“Not really,” Nate said, with a slow blink. He narrowed his eyes now, looking at her closely. She was beginning to feel like a specimen under glass. “Laura… you’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”
It was her turn to blink.
Stress?
“I… yes,” she admitted, nodding. “I have. There’s been a lot going on. The custody hearing for Lacey. All the cases we’ve been working. Having to keep this all a secret, even though I knew you suspected something. And Amy, of course – getting her away from her abusive father, making sure it would stick this time. And…”
She almost said, and knowing that you were going to die soon, but not knowing how – but she stopped herself. That would be too far, right now. Too much for him to know. She would tell him, but… not yet. Not until he was comfortable with the concept as a whole.
If he got comfortable with it.
“Right,” Nate said. “And I know that is a heavy burden to bear. All that stress. I'm sure you haven't been sleeping properly. You've been fighting not to take a drink, too, and I know that's been hard for you. It’s been a lot, hasn't it?”
“Of course,” Laura said, staring at him in a way that she was sure made her look stupid. Where was he going with this? It was like he hadn't reacted at all to the news that she was psychic, not after first declaring it a lie. Was he convinced it was true, now? Did he believe her? Or...
“And in our line of work?” Nate shook his head. “Law enforcement people like us need therapy at the best of times, Laura. The things that we have to deal with on a daily basis, I don't need to tell you. They can be overwhelming. There’s a reason that they encourage us to go for counseling, you know.”
“I know,” Laura said, tilting her head slowly as she looked at him. Was he saying...?
“The thing is,” Nate said, steepling his hands together in front of himself, leaning in and looking at her intently. “There's no shame in it, no shame at all. The most important thing is that you get the help you need. And if you've been seeing things, especially things that disturb you, you should talk to someone about it.”
“I'm telling you right now,” Laura said, holding on desperately to the slim sliver of hope that he actually did believe her for just a second longer, even though she knew she was only being dense.
“No, not me,” Nate said, rubbing the light stubble around his chin with one hand before looking at her intently again. “Laura, I think you need to go and see a professional. Someone who can really help you out with all of this. Like I said, there's no shame in it. I saw the counselor for a few sessions after my first shot fired in the line of duty. It's never easy, dealing with something like that. And you've had your share of it. We probably should have seen this sooner, made sure that you had someone to talk to earlier on.”
“I…” Laura paused, staring at him. She felt like a fish in a tank. Her eyes as wide open as her mouth was. And him, staring back at her like she was a freak.
No, not like that, she realized. If he believed her, that was when he would probably look at her like a freak.
He was looking at her with pity. Like she needed help.
She couldn’t believe it. She’d finally come clean, told him the truth like he wanted. And now…
It would have been one thing for him to yell at her. To tell her to quit lying. To stop trying to pull the wool over his eyes. But he was just sitting there, looking at her like she was someone damaged, someone broken, who needed help getting put back together.
He believed her. At least, he believed that she thought she was telling the truth. He’d just skipped right on to believing she was delusional.
“Nate,” Laura said, taking a breath, trying to measure her words more. Maybe if she sounded less panicked. Maybe if she talked him through it, step by step. “I’m not… seeing things. Not like that. It’s real. I see what’s going to happen, and then it happens. Or, it doesn’t – so long as we step in and change it. It’s an ability I have.”
“You have damn good intuition, Laura,” Nate said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry you’ve been struggling with this. Let’s talk to Rondelle when we’re next at HQ, alright? There are free sessions you can take up as part of the Bureau. He’ll want to make sure you’re being looked after; I know he will. Just hang in there until then. We’ll get you through this.”
Laura opened her mouth to try again, but then closed it. What was the point? He’d already made up his mind. He didn’t believe it was true.
Who would?
No one would ever think it was possible for her to see the future like that. It sounded like something out of a movie. A fairy tale. A complete myth. In all the years she’d been searching, Laura had never even been able to find someone else with the same abilities that she had. And now, she was expecting Nate to believe her?
He was an FBI agent. A man who dealt in facts, proof, evidence. And she had none. She couldn’t prove what was inside her own head. Couldn’t show it to him.
Laura got up from her seat.
“Are we… okay now?” she asked. She didn’t need to put on the way her voice shook or add doubt to her eyes. She had come here to fix their relationship. If she hadn’t even managed to do that…
“We’re okay,” Nate promised her, getting up to walk her to the door. His voice was gentle. It made her want to scream. “Just so long as you get the help you need, this is all going to work out. See? It wasn’t so bad in the end, telling me.”
“No,” Laura said, distantly. “I guess not.”
But as she turned to walk back to the door, back to her car, there was almost a numbness settling over her.
He hadn’t believed a single word she’d said.
Was she ever going to be able to find someone who would help her with this burden she had to carry? Someone who would understand?
Right at that moment, it didn’t feel as though she was ever going to be anything but lost and alone and haunted by demons that no one else in the world had to see. But tomorrow, she reminded herself, she was going to see someone who really needed her – and that was one very strong reason to keep going.
CHAPTER THREE
The next day was a new day. It had to be.
Laura sat in her car at the steering wheel, her hands still resting in the ten and two positions. She had to get last night out of her mind. The way Nate had reacted. She had to forget about it, at least for a short while.
She needed a clear mind for this. No distractions. And definitely no inner monolog
ue telling her that this was going to go just as badly as that had.
This was important, and Laura couldn’t let whatever was going on in her personal life bleed into it. Even if it was becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish between her personal life and work these days.
Laura took her hands off the wheel with a deep breath and used that same momentum to reach for the door of the car and open it. She had to get moving. It was already the time that she’d said she’d be here.
She looked up at the house as she left the car, trying to gain a clear first impression. It was a big house, for sure. Not quite as big as Amy’s old house. Governor Fallow, her father, had purchased an impressive colonial-style manse for his family. This one was a little more modest.
But the yard out front was neatly mowed, the brickwork was clean, and the windows shone in the sun. it was bigger than any house Laura had ever lived in, in her life. It was nice. A good neighborhood. Quiet, except for a couple of young children playing in a yard down the street.
Everything looked good. So, why did Laura have a pit in the bottom of her stomach when she looked at it?
It wasn’t hard to self-psycho-analyze. She was probably overreacting, projecting. When she’d responded to a report of a kidnapping earlier in the year and rescued six-year-old Amy, the child had seemed safe at last. Until a vision in the hospital room showed her Amy being beaten by her own father, the Governor who put on a family-friendly face to the world but was privately dealing with serious anger issues.
And if that hadn’t been enough, then what followed would definitely have made anyone paranoid about the girl’s safety. Wading into the family home herself and forcibly removing Amy from the situation, and even retrieving videotaped proof of the beatings, should have been the end of it. But instead of staying in care, Amy had ended up going back with her father after he pulled strings behind the scenes.