“This chick look familiar?” Nicodemus asked.
Ethan glanced at the television, but searing whiteness overtook his vision. He cursed, closing his eyes long enough to let the brightness subside. When he opened them, he focused on Nicodemus’s silhouette in the desk chair.
“Oh yeah, I forgot.” Nicodemus snorted but quickly turned back to the set.
The reporter asked some questions, and another woman’s voice answered. The voice carried him away—far away to a time in his past. He could still hear her muffled screams. It made his head swim with desire.
“I think it’s your girl.”
The doubt was gone, and Ethan knew the truth. It was her. His palms were hot. He wiped them on his pants and clenched his hands into fists. A thrilling anticipation raced through him, igniting the blood in his veins, pumping a burning excitement he had no desire to curb.
“Did they say Kelsey Matthews?” He restrained his voice, unwilling to give Nicodemus the satisfaction of seeing his excitement.
“Yeah. I think so. Dark, sorta wavy hair. Pretty—like really pretty. Nice teeth.”
Nice teeth? What an idiot. As if Ethan wanted Kelsey for her teeth. She was far more valuable to him than that. A thrill raced through him when he thought of the last time he’d seen her. Even with the sticky streaks of reapplied tape across her cheeks and hair tousled, she was breathtaking. Her dark hair actually looked better when it wasn’t washed. And those eyes, ignited with passion. With rage and fear.
“It’s her. It’s definitely her,” Ethan said. Flames of desire licked his body, but he took a long, cooling breath. “Where did they say she was?”
“Pueblo.”
His lip curled ever so slightly. “Pack up. We’re going back to Colorado.”
Thursday night, two days before the gala, Kelsey held Hugh’s hand as they walked down the deserted hall. The smooth skin of his palm against hers made her think of his condition, but she reminded herself he would be completely safe at nighttime. She kept her voice calm as they eased their way toward the door, though inside she was bursting with excitement—and a little trepidation—for what was about to happen.
“I talked to the doctors, Hugh. They said you’d never been outdoors since you’ve been here.”
Hugh’s feet matched her pace, but he didn’t respond or look at her.
“The courtyard here is so pretty. I think you might like it.” She glanced at him again. “It took a lot of convincing, believe me. You should’ve heard the argument I had with Dr. Stroud. But he’s got a new respect for me, ever since your first painting—” when you spoke for the first time, she thought. “I just wish Mr. Bercovitch had that kind of faith in me.”
She smiled up at him, though he still wasn’t looking at her. “You’re making quite a few waves.”
Hugh hadn’t spoken again since that day in the studio. Not to the psychiatrists or the doctors or any of the staff that came to analyze him. They’d peppered him with questions, but nothing had warranted a response. After a couple weeks, the attention had died down and they finally left Hugh to his normal routine. Kelsey didn’t see the relief in his face or watch it soften his shoulders, but she could imagine it.
She felt her lips tighten with the satisfaction of what her under-valued profession had done for him, despite its nay-sayers. Hugh might not have spoken again, even to her, but he’d consistently spent time in the studio, working away at his paintings.
Progress might be internal, but it was happening. It came with the smear of paint, the stroke of a brush, the pouring of one boy’s heart onto canvas. Hugh didn’t need to speak. The paintings were his language, and they told of painful, beautiful, authentic recovery.
Stopping at the doorway, Kelsey turned to him. “You don’t have to go outside if you don’t want. Do you understand?”
Hugh locked gazes with her.
Kelsey put a hand against the glass door. Its cool surface sent prickles up her arm. “It’s dark outside. It’s safe. Nothing there can hurt you. But we can go back to your room right now if you like.”
He stared unblinking into her eyes, but his gaze wasn’t blank. The intensity was there, like when he’d been in the studio.
“What do you think?”
He tipped his head forward in a subtle nod—a nod, none the less.
Kelsey pressed open the door. A whoosh of cold air rushed in around them, and Hugh’s hand clenched tighter around her fingers. He didn’t cower or pull back, though.
She was glad she’d managed to scrounge the zippered hoodie. It was about five sizes too big for Hugh, but it would keep him warm.
“You can put on your hood if you like,” she said. “You still want to go out?”
He blinked, hesitating a moment. He reached back and fumbled at the back of his jacket, and she helped him pull it over his head.
They stepped out onto short grass, and the door fell shut behind them with a dampened thud. Cold wind whistled past Kelsey’s ears, and she shivered, tugging her sweater tighter around her.
Near the center of the courtyard, curved benches formed a circle around several small evergreens. Other plants and bushes hugged the perimeter and filled flowerbeds. Several larger conifers rose high into the dark sky, casting soft shadows. It was a clear night, and the full moon illuminated the well-kept grounds.
Kelsey guided Hugh just short of the center. She released his hand and squatted, running her fingers over the soft layer of tight, manicured grass beneath their feet.
“Have you ever felt grass, Hugh?”
He watched her for a moment then bent down and put his hand next to hers. His eyes widened.
Kelsey watched him pat the ground then dig his fingertips in. He tugged at the grass, ripping a fistful of blades. A flash of panic filled his eyes, but Kelsey smiled reassuringly.
“It’s okay. You can’t hurt it.” She grabbed a handful and held it up, opening her palm so that the grass fluttered softly to the ground.
Hugh’s expression relaxed, and he was back into exploration mode. He crawled on hands and knees through the grass and stopped at the pebbled circular path. When his hand touched a rock, he picked it up and turned it in his palm, inspecting it with fascination.
Kelsey watched him discover the rough bark of the trees, the papery leaves of the bushes, the prickly pinecones littering the ground. Her stomach fluttered with giddy excitement for him.
After maybe ten minutes, Hugh stood, apparently having exhausted his curiosity. She came to his side, and he grabbed her hand so quickly it startled her.
He led her around the circle to the opposite side where a small, man-made waterfall surged over several strategically placed rocks and ended in a gurgling pond. Hugh tugged at her the way an excited child might pull her over to look at a new toy. He bent to the water and put his hand in, pulling it back sharply when the biting cold nipped at his fingers.
Kelsey realized what his hand, gripping hers tightly, meant. It meant they were friends.
Warmth spread through her chest. She smiled.
Hugh looked back at her, and to her surprise, he smiled back. The right corner of his mouth curved upward in an awkward, asymmetrical grin. She’d bet her entire stash of Prismacolors that was something none of the staff had ever seen.
“You like it outside, Hugh?”
A cool breeze ruffled her hair and rustled the trees.
“Outside.”
The heat rose from her chest to her cheeks, and she felt herself beaming even broader. “I’m so glad you came out here with me.”
“Outside.”
“That’s right, Hugh. We’re outside. What do you like best about outside?”
Hugh’s attention turned back to the pool. A light was set in the side, bathing the water in a rippling, gentle glow. Hugh pointed to the light. “Bright.”
Kelsey nodded. “The light’s bright.”
“Hugh bright.”
Kelsey turned back to study Hugh. He was staring at her, boring something into her wi
th his eyes, some meaning beyond her understanding.
“I like talking to you, Hugh.” She put her hand to her heart. “When you talk, it makes me feel bright inside.”
“Bright like me?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes. I’m glad you’re my friend.”
Hugh’s gaze left hers and trailed around the courtyard. His head made the widest rotation it could, taking several long seconds to take it all in.
“Thank you.”
Her heart lurched then went sprinting away, bounding in amazement and joy at his progress. Her eyes felt suddenly moist, and her voice was husky when she answered. “Thanks for what, Hugh?”
“Outside.”
~
Logan sank into his recliner and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He picked up a book he was reading but put it down again when he couldn’t focus.
Class today had been rougher than usual. He’d been distracted and anxious after going in for bloodwork and tests. The clinic had gotten him in quickly, but waiting for his tests results had distracted him all day. He’d finally received a call on his way home saying everything was normal. Blood work fine. Hormone levels perfect. No deficiencies.
Maybe he should’ve been relieved, but getting the news only made him more concerned. If it wasn’t a health issue causing his slipping emotional control, what was it? Was he losing his grip on life?
He considered his father’s offer to come play chess again. Grant was his only known family, and Grant had an ability. Maybe there were other connections between them Logan hadn’t seen. He wouldn’t know unless he got up the courage to face the man again. Logan remembered his father’s words urging him to confront and take action.
There was a knock at his front door, and Logan realized he’d forgotten to unlock it for Jade. He pushed up out of the chair, groaning as he did, feeling like an old man.
Logan greeted Jade with a tight hug. The scent of her hair wafted around him, and he let it soothe his anxiety. She was here. He would choose to find peace in that.
She chuckled softly into his shoulder. “Hi, there. What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing.”
“I can feel you.” She pressed her hand to his chest, over his heart.
He held her for a bit longer, and when he pulled back she searched his face. “Thanks for that. I love when you let me in.”
He shut the door and kissed her.
“How was your day?” she asked, kicking off her shoes and crawling onto the sofa with her computer in her lap.
Logan crossed to the recliner and sank into the leather cushion. “Rough.”
“How so?”
“Forgot my lecture notes this morning and had to stumble through class today.”
“Oh, that stinks. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.”
Jade watched him for a minute, and he had the feeling she was trying to analyze his feelings. She hadn’t called him out on his lack of control yet, and he wondered if she was thinking about it now.
“Anything else wrong?” she asked.
He mumbled a noncommittal grunt, not wanting to verbally explore what might be wrong with him. Briefly he considered mentioning that he’d met his father, but part of him wasn’t ready to share that yet. Instead, he changed the subject. “Did you hear from Kelsey Matthews?”
“No one ever got back to me.” The space between Jade’s brows pinched together. “I don’t know what else to do. I just keep thinking: I know where she works. I know where she’s going to be during that event tomorrow. It’d be so easy to go tell her.”
“I don’t like where this is headed.”
“What?”
“You don’t need to be anywhere near Pueblo.”
Jade sighed. “Logan.”
“Keep calling. Leave a couple more messages at different extensions. At some point you’re bound to get someone to call you back. Even if it’s because you’re just being a nuisance.”
“But what if it’s too late by then?”
“You’re doing what you can. It’s not in your hands.”
“But that’s just it. What if it is in our hands? What if we do nothing and he finds her?” Jade shut the laptop and grabbed one of the throw pillows. She twisted it in her hands, her fingers digging into the upholstery fabric. “It’s like forty-five minutes away. You and I could go warn her. If there’s any trouble—”
Logan bristled. “No. I’m not going down there, Jade. This isn’t our business.”
“But if someone had warned me, maybe Carlsbad wouldn’t have happened.”
“I wish it hadn’t. But that’s even more of a reason you can’t go. You’re safe here, now. I can’t stand the thought of you being in danger again.”
“But I wouldn’t be in danger. You’d be there with me. If anything happened, you have your strength.”
“My strength can’t fight bullets. I’m not impervious.”
“I know that.”
“If I got shot, you’d be vulnerable.”
“We don’t even know Ethan’s there, let alone that he has a gun.”
“The kidnapper in Denver had one—and he did a lot of damage. I think it’s safe to assume—”
“But I don’t care!”
Logan blinked, stunned by her sudden outburst.
“I don’t care if I get hurt. That’s not what’s important. What if this is what I’m supposed to do?”
He couldn’t stomach the thought of Jade getting hurt again, especially when this time she had the chance to stay away.
The vehemence of his own exasperation threatened to overtake him. He clamped his jaw and let a slow breath seep in through his nostrils. “Jade, I know you feel strongly about purpose and destiny, and that’s fine. Your ability played a large role in your own escape. But if you think you’re supposed to use your ability to help others, why not be a counselor or something? Anything that’s far away from guns and knives and kidnappers.”
Looking as though she was choked for a moment, Jade swallowed. “You helped that girl who was about to get mugged—back last fall when Josh and Chloe were visiting. You weren’t afraid then.”
“I’m not afraid for me. I’m worried about you. Why do you have to be so damned selfless?”
A breath puffed through Jade’s lips, and her eyes were moist with frustration or maybe anger. Logan knew he’d gone too far, but he couldn’t apologize. He wasn’t sorry for trying to protect her. She was too important to him. The cops would have to handle Ethan on their own.
A moment of terse silence sat between them, a wall rising high. It felt cold and unscalable. Unhappiness ate away at Logan, but he felt powerless. He hated that keeping the woman he loved safe meant making her angry.
Finally Jade interrupted the silence. She jumped off the sofa and grabbed her laptop, stuffing it into her book bag.
Logan arched his brows at her but felt torn. “You’re leaving?”
“I’m sorry, I just can’t be here right now. I’ve got a ton of crap to do, and I can’t focus.”
He swallowed. “Okay.”
As the door closed behind her, Logan hoped he hadn’t ruined everything. But he’d rather her be mad at him than dead.
~
Ethan shut the wire door on the scorpion cage and inhaled sharply at the whiff of lingering cigar smoke. He was irritated the way he always was when he had to go outside during the day. It was bad enough packing up his belongings, after only a few months deciding again what was vital to take and what he could leave behind in their hellhole of an apartment. He bit back a complaint at the smell radiating from Nicodemus and spun to face him. “You should go get the rental car.”
“Rental car? I ain’t paying for that. Let’s just grab a taxi to the airport.”
“What makes you think we’re going to the airport?” Ethan asked.
“Figured you wanted your girl as soon as possible. Anyway, I ain’t sitting in a cramped car for that long.”
Ethan kept his voice calm, but his teeth bit in
to each word. “Yes. You are.”
“Why the hell would I?”
“Because about the worst place for two wanted men is anywhere near TSA. We’d be caught in an instant.” Ethan thought the fact that merely passing through the brightly lit terminal would incapacitate him spoke for itself.
“For you, maybe,” Nicodemus scoffed. “But TSA don’t got nothin’ on these oglers.”
“Your eyes can only control one person at a time.”
“That’s better than your record,” Nicodemus said. “Light’s your kryptonite. And you don’t got any real superpowers like me.”
“My point,” Ethan said, “is that you wouldn’t be able to foil more than one individual at a time. Airports are crawling with security. It would be nearly impossible to escape if we were caught. We can’t risk it.”
“Risk, pshaw. I’d fold a three-of-a-kind to get outta a drive like that. Couple hours in a plane, or a week-long backache? Easy choice.”
“I’m running this op, and I won’t go to the airport.”
“But I already bought the tickets.”
“What? Without talking to me?”
“They were $636.”
Ethan blinked, derailed for a moment by his partner’s obsession with multiples of the number three. “Is that supposed to be a good deal? Why the hell do I care?” The last came out in a sharp yell that surprised himself.
He couldn’t see Nicodemus’s face due to the bright morning sun streaming in the window, but he heard the squirm in the man’s voice. “It was an omen. Ya don’t just ignore omens.”
Ethan regained control of his voice. “You forget who’s running this show.”
“For now,” Nicodemus muttered. From the trajectory of his voice, Ethan could sense the man turning away.
Now was what mattered—all that mattered, but Nicodemus didn’t need to know that. “Just ask me before you make any other decisions.”
“Fine.”
Nicodemus could sulk all he wanted. Ethan didn’t care.
“I’ll load up the car.”
“We can’t take your car,” Ethan said.
“You think I’m driving some germ-ridden rental to Colorado?”
Protector: The Flawed Series Book Three Page 8