Touching Eternity (Touch Series 1.5)

by Airicka Phoenix

  Amalie arched a brow. “Hundreds, eh?”

  She managed to heft him up onto the bed once more, panting at the effort.

  “Hundreds,” he confirmed, rolling onto his side.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, I think,” she muttered.

  But he wasn’t listening. He was busy molesting her bedspread. She was all but forgotten as he crawled up her bed and flopped face down on the mattress, nuzzling her comforter.

  Amalie watched him with concern from a distance. He didn’t seem sick anymore. If anything, he seemed fine, except for the behavior.

  “What did he take?”

  She almost jumped, startled by Derek’s forgotten presence. She turned to him, her fingers anxiously knotting together. “I don’t know. It was meant for me, but he…”

  “Do you remember the name?” Derek asked, still watching Isaiah.

  Amalie shook her head. “It was mentioned, but it was so long. I’d never heard it before.”

  Carefully, Derek rose out of his chair and crossed to the bed where Isaiah was making face down snow angels on top of her sheets. He bent down and grabbed Isaiah’s face, holding him still as he peered into his eye.

  “You have soft, girly hands for a dude,” Isaiah said, smirking.

  Derek jerked back, a frown darkening his face. “I think he’ll be fine.”

  Amalie wished she was as confident. “I think it started with an L,” she said, worried eyes never leaving Isaiah. “Isaiah knew what it was when my father mentioned it. He didn’t seem pleased.”

  A frown turned Derek’s eyebrows downward. “Mr. Garrison gave it to Isaiah?”

  Amalie shook her head. “No, he…” she trailed off, wondering if she was saying too much. Derek still worked for her father and if word got back that Isaiah took the shot meant for her…her father would be so furious. “I don’t know what happened.”

  Derek sighed. He opened his mouth, prepared to say something, but seemed to think better of it and snapped his mouth shut and turned away.

  Relieved that he hadn’t pushed, Amalie went and perched on the edge of the bed. She didn’t touch Isaiah, but watched him as he explored all the different textures surrounding him. He seemed so enthralled. She wondered if it would have been the same for her. Would she have been so completely out of her mind? Guilt wrenched inside her at the knowledge that Isaiah was suffering because of her. A small part of her pointed out that he didn’t look like he was in pain, but she wasn’t sure she believed that. How could he not be when he’d lost control of his own body? Isaiah wasn’t like this. Whatever was in that syringe had taken away his will to act like himself and that was probably worse than being sick in her opinion.

  “Isaiah?” she whispered, lightly touching the back of the leg closest to her.

  He jerked, rolling onto his back. He lay sprawled, arms and legs strewn wide apart, staring at the ceiling.

  “Are you okay?” she asked tentatively.

  “Everything is so…shiny!” he murmured, awed. “I think the walls are breathing.”

  Amalie swallowed hard. “They’re not. You’re just not feeling well.”

  He shook his head. “I feel incredible!” He must have meant it because the next second, he’d grabbed her and dragged her onto the bed with him. He positioned her stiff body so she was on top and had all the power of escaping if she wanted. “I feel so alive!”

  Her fingers sought his face, lightly tracing the smooth contour. She let her gaze follow the movement down to his chin. Her breath caught when he turned his face and nuzzled her palm, pressing kisses to her skin.

  “You shouldn’t have done it,” she whispered just for his ears. “You should have let it be me.”

  His lips trailed a path down the inside of her wrist, moved down to the crock of her arm. He paused and raised his head to look into her face. “I let enough happen to you.” He touched her lips with his fingertips. “It kills me, the things I didn’t stop.”

  “Couldn’t,” she whispered. “You couldn’t stop. You didn’t know.”

  He sighed. “But I should have seen it. I’m not blind. All those times you came out of that room, bleeding, broken…hurt…” He shook his head. “How could I not put the pieces together? I should have protected you. I should never have let you stay.” His gaze was intense despite the glassy shine in them. “I’m not going to let that happen again. I’m getting you out of here one way or another.”

  Chapter 25

  Isaiah

  Isaiah peeled his eyes open to splinters of sunlight baking his retina. He winced and automatically tried to twist his body away, only to be stopped by the weight pressing into his side, flattening him onto his back. His right arm had fallen asleep because of it and his spine ached from being in the same position all night, but one inhale of the familiar scent and the discomfort was forgotten.

  Coils of copper draped across his chest where Amalie had curled into his side, using his shoulder as a pillow. Her arm slashed pale across his dark t-shirt, reaching around his ribs in a fierce embrace. Her legs were tangled through his. He wasn’t getting out even if he’d wanted to.

  He groaned, rubbing his free hand over his face. He scooped it back through his hair and tried to remember what happened. There was a strange metallic taste in his mouth, mingled with the pasty flavor of vomit and sleep. His head was buzzing like someone had rung a gong next to his ear and his vision refused to focus.

  His shifting caused Amalie to sigh and nuzzle closer in her sleep. The arm she lay on screamed in protest, but he ignored it. Instead, he brushed back the hairs off her face so she could breathe without suffocating on the heavy strands.

  “She only just fell asleep,” a voice said from across the room. “She stayed up most of the night watching over you.”

  Isaiah started, snapping his head up. Derek sat in his seat, still as polished and put together as ever. Isaiah frowned. “It’s a bit early still to be here, isn’t it?”

  Derek shrugged. “It would be if I’d actually left.”

  Isaiah’s nose wrinkled. “You were watching us sleep? That’s way more than just little creepy.”

  “I was watching her.” He motioned with his chin towards Amalie. “I didn’t want to leave her alone with you when you were out of your mind.”

  Annoyance and defenses prickling, Isaiah frowned. “I would never hurt her, no matter what state I’m in!”

  Derek merely shrugged a shoulder. “I wasn’t about to take that chance.”

  “Well I’m telling you, she’s safe with me!” Anger danced over the edge of each word.

  Derek smoothed his hands over his thighs. “She told me what happened.”

  Surprised by the abrupt change in subject, Isaiah wasn’t quick enough to respond. Derek didn’t seem to need him to.

  “Perhaps not in so many words, but I sorted out enough to figure it out.” He raised his gray eyes and pinned Isaiah. “What did you take for her?”

  Isaiah pursed his lips. “What’s it to you?”

  Derek seemed to consider this a moment, then, instead of answering, replied, “Why?”

  The implication behind the questioning had Isaiah’s eyes narrowing suspiciously. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  There was a hint of a smile on Derek’s face this time. “Are you always this impossible or is it just me?”

  “It’s you,” Isaiah answered without missing a beat. “I don’t trust you.”

  Derek cocked his head to the side. “Because you think I’ll hurt her?”

  “That, and because you knew she was being hurt and you did nothing to help her.”

  All traces of amusement vanished from Derek’s face. He didn’t respond, but the guilt in his eyes spoke volumes.

  Isaiah jumped on it. “You did, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

  Derek sighed. “Yes, I did.”

  “Why didn’t you do something?” Isaiah growled, feeling his anger surging, his hatred for the man rising. “Why didn’t y
ou protect her? That was your job!”

  Derek’s eyes were cold steel when they met Isaiah’s. “Because I met her the same night I met you. Before that, I used to only work nights and I never saw anyone go in or out of her room. But the moment I met her, I knew…” he trailed off, red-hot fury flashing behind his eyes. “I was hoping to find the bastard before he touched her again. She beat me to it.”

  An understanding of sorts flared between them.

  “She never told me,” Isaiah murmured. “Not that it matters. I never should have left.”

  “Why did you?”

  Isaiah started at the question, momentarily derailed by it.

  “You clearly love her and she you. Why didn’t you take her and leave like you said?”

  A sigh left him. He closed his eyes as he focused on the soft, warm body at his side. Derek was waiting for a response when he opened his eyes again.

  “It wasn’t that easy,” Isaiah muttered. “I owed Garrison and I wasn’t going to pay him back by kidnapping his daughter. Plus, I was so sure I was doing the right thing. That Amalie would be better off without me meddling in her wellbeing,” Isaiah looked down. “I was going to marry her. I’d already made all the plans. I was going to get her father’s permission then wait until I was out of school…” he trailed off, the heat of those memories burning him.

  “What happened?” Derek prompted.

  Isaiah shrugged. “I went to ask Garrison for her hand, but he told me all this stuff about how she was getting worse and he thought it was because of me. He said the only way to make her better, to help her, was if I let her go. He told me it wouldn’t be forever, only until…”

  “She was better,” he supplied quietly.

  Isaiah nodded, his chest hurting. “I never had any reason to doubt him. Garrison saved my life when I was eight. He gave me a home, food, clothes, shelter…a family. Before him, I was nothing, a worthless kid with no family, no manners, no education and no hope. I owed him everything.” He shook his head at the memories. “I thought about telling Amalie the truth, thought maybe it would make things easier for her, but I knew she would tell me not to listen to her father and that he was wrong, so I lied and said things I knew would hurt her.”

  “She still loves you.”

  Isaiah turned his head so he was peering into Amalie’s slumbering face. Her lips were pink and slightly parted and there were shadows where her lashes splayed across her cheeks. The sight of her in his arms again sent a jolt of euphoria coursing through him.

  “I probably don’t deserve her,” he murmured, tucking a coil of hair behind her ear.

  “You don’t deserve her.” Derek ignored the sharp scowl Isaiah threw him. “But that isn’t up to me or you to decide, only her, and if you have two brain cells in that head of yours, you’ll fight to keep her safe no matter what, because once she’s gone…” He shook his head sadly.

  His annoyance washed away at the grief on the other man’s face. “What was her name?”

  He hesitated. “Tabatha. She, uh…” He cleared his throat, shifted in his chair. “She was my sister.”

  Isaiah’s eyes widened. “What happened to her?”

  Derek’s gaze dropped to his lap. “She died.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Isaiah murmured, meaning it.

  Derek nodded slowly. “Thanks.” He paused, stealing a glance towards Amalie. “She was Amalie’s age. I think that’s why I…” He ruffled a hand through his hair. “Tabby was hurt the same way.”

  The anger that flared hot through Isaiah surprised him, especially since it was for a complete stranger. “By whom?”

  “A group of boys from her school.” His fingers tightened around the armrests of the chair. “She was walking home from a friend’s house. It was late. They…they attacked her, then walked her home like that would make a difference after what they did.” He forced a bitter laugh. “Tabby was never the same after that. She locked herself up, refused to talk to anyone. I was at school at the time.”

  “What happened to the boys?”

  Derek flicked his fingers dismissively. “Not a damn thing. One of them had an attorney for a father or uncle or something. Got them off. After the trial, everyone blamed Tabby for what happened. She led them on. She asked for it. What was a young girl doing out so late if she wasn’t looking for trouble. It was too much for her. She took her life a week later.”

  Rage writhed and boiled up inside him. “Where are the boys now?”

  Eyes so cold it was like looking into the heart of the arctic rose up and met his. “Missing.”

  Isaiah didn’t ask. He didn’t have to.

  “That’s unfortunate,” he murmured, not bothering to conceal the bitter satisfaction racing through him.

  Derek said nothing. He rose out of his chair and started for the door. It was Isaiah’s words after him that stopped him.

  “I would have done the same.”

  At the door, hand on the knob, Derek glanced back briefly. “I know.”

  Then he was gone and Isaiah was alone with Amalie.

  He lay back down, turning his body so he could drag her the rest of the way into his chest. He kissed her temple. He didn’t notice her eyes open or the tear that slipped down her cheek as he closed his own eyes and drifted back to sleep.

  ***

  Isaiah was awakened when the warmth against his side shifted and pulled away. His hands automatically reached to stop the retreat and closed around a slender arm.

  “Don’t go,” he mumbled, dragging the body back into his arms.

  “It’s nearly afternoon,” came a soft whisper that tickled his throat.

  He groaned, nuzzling the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

  He felt her head tip back, but he kept his eyes closed. “For what?”

  “For anything I may have said or done last night.”

  “You don’t remember?”

  He shook his head. “But since I woke up with you in my arms, I’m assuming I acted like a gentleman?”

  Her soft chuckle brought a smile to his lips. “You really liked the feel of things,” she answered cryptically.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “The feel of things?”

  She nodded, tickling the underside of his chin with her hair. “You were very hands on.”

  His eyebrows crinkled. “Really? Do tell.”

  Her hesitation perked his interest. Her voice was tiny when she spoke, “You liked touching me.”

  He parted his lids just a crack to peer down into her endearingly pink face. “I’ve always liked touching you.” To emphasize, he brushed his hand down her side to splay against her hip, watching her face for the first sign of distress.

  But she shivered. Her eyes darkened and her lips parted. His body reacted to her response.

  “What are you doing, Amalie?” His voice came out gruff.

  Her pretty blue eyes dropped to his chest. “Nothing. I’m sorry—”

  In one quick motion, he rolled her flat on her back and restrained her body with his, careful not to hurt her or worse, scare her. He almost groaned at how incredible she felt beneath him, every inch of her fitting into his like a puzzle piece.

  “Your eyes are saying something else,” his voice rasped, heavy with want.

  Her lashes slipped up, just high enough so she was peering up at him through the thick fans. “What are they saying, Isaiah?”

  Every fiber of his being stiffened at the implication in her tone, in her eyes as she watched him, waiting for a response he didn’t know how to give.

  Instead, he asked, “Am I still dreaming?”

  The look on her face melted into one of regret. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Gently, he rose off her, dragging her up with him until they were both kneeling on the mattress together. He didn’t reach for her again, no matter how much he wanted to, but instead sat studying her carefully.

  “What is it, Amalie?”

  She was staring down a
t the fingers she was twisting together in her lap, her shoulders up by her ears. “Please don’t get angry with me.”

  Isaiah blinked. “When have I ever been angry with you?”

  She continued to watch the fidget of her restless fingers. “I heard you and Derek this morning. I know what happened, what my father did.”