My mind ticks away with old unanswered questions. But a new need arises quickly. I need to know who did this to me, but most importantly, I need to know, why.
As I sit in the back of the car, I’m lost in my own thoughts. Whatever horror is happening inside Enzo’s mansion is now forgotten as I’m drawn into a world of intrigue, and anger. The longer I sit here, the angrier I get.
Rage overtakes everything else. I no longer feel remorseful because Enzo’s going to die. I don’t care about him. Instead, the anger inside me keeps building to the point that I want to scream and yell.
My hands vibrate from the sheer fury captured inside my body. Tightening them into fists, I try and relax them. But I can’t.
The more time I have, the madder I am.
Someone did this to me.
And I need to find who that ‘someone’ is, and get some damned answers.
The back door opens, and Jude slides into the car. He looks me over and crinkles his forehead. “Are you okay?” he asks.
Shaking my head, I grind my teeth together. “I need to know who did this to me, Jude. I want . . . no, I deserve to know why.”
He nods his head then rakes his hand through his hair. The car turns around and takes off down the long driveway. “If you want to know, then I’ll find them.”
I look at him, and can see he understands my overwhelming thirst to know. “I do. I need to know who’s done this, because I want them to take it out of me. Too many people have died. I can’t be responsible for more death. I’ll go insane. And I want to know why they did it, and why me.”
He lets out a deep breath, and nods his head again.
As we drive down some road, in some city, in some state, the reality of everything that’s happened cloaks me with sadness.
I’ve gone through so many emotions since I woke from having my appendix removed. But the most overwhelming of all is sadness.
I’ve caused so much pain and hurt to the ones I love, and this breaks my heart.
Closing my eyes, I hold in the tears. But suddenly, my body reacts to the internal chaos screaming at me. I break down and sob. It’s not just tears I’m releasing, it’s so much more.
Jude pulls me into his arms, and I lean my head on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” he says as his arms tighten around me.
We spend a good chunk of the drive silent. My crying eventually subsides, and my eyes become heavy. The whir of the tires on the road, the gentle movement of the car, and the warmth of the air eventually makes me sleepy.
I bend my legs up toward my chest, cradling them, and lie down on the bench seat. With my head on Jude’s lap, and him running his fingers through my hair, I close my eyes and fall asleep.
There’s a weightless feeling. I can sense myself moving, but I know I’m not walking. I open my eyes and look around; it’s like I’m floating through the foyer of Jude’s house.
“Is she okay?” I hear someone ask. Frank.
“She’ll be okay. You’ll have to get her something to eat as soon as she wakes.”
“She looks like shit. It doesn’t look like she’s eaten since she was taken from us.” This makes me smile, because I can recognize Frank’s caring voice anywhere.
“She’s lost too many pounds. Make sure you’ve stocked everything she likes to eat.”
“I will. Do you need help getting her to bed?”
“No, I’ve got it. Go back to the kitchen.”
“Yes, sir,” Frank responds.
When I hear him walk away, I open my eyes and look at Jude. “I can walk,” I say to him as he carries me through the house.
“I know you can walk.” He smiles at me and tightens his grip.
“You can put me down.”
“Not a chance.”
I hold onto him, and allow him to take me into my room. He places me on the chair near the bed, then drags the covers back. Without saying a word to me, he walks into the closet, and comes out with pajamas. “I’ll have a shower first,” I say as he lays them on the bed.
“Would you like a bath? I can get it ready for you.” He starts walking away, but I stand and grab hold of his elbow.
“I just want to have a quick shower.”
“But a bath will help you relax. Let me draw you one,” he insists.
“Jude,” I say as I shake my head. “I’m having a shower.”
He steps back and rubs his hand over his forehead. “I’ll leave you to it then. Frank’s preparing you something to eat, so when you’re finished . . .”
“Thank you,” I say before he adds anything else. “For everything.”
“I’ll be in my office. I’ll return when you’re done.” He walks toward the door, but stops. I hold onto hope that he’ll come back and hug me again. God knows, I need some human contact after all the crap I’ve been through.
He doesn’t turn back and give me a hug, instead he continues out the door.
Relaxing my shoulders, I head into the bathroom, and turn on the shower. Stripping out of this revolting bra and panties, I throw them straight in the trash and get into the hot, pelting water.
Leaning my forehead against the cool tile, I let the hot water work its magic on me.
When I exit the bathroom, I find Jude with a stranger in the suite’s living room.
“Alexa, this is Dr. Morrison. I called him here to look you over,” Jude says.
The doctor approaches me, offering his hand, but I bury both of mine in the pockets of my robe. I don’t think I can handle any more visions right now. Using the techniques Dallas and I worked on, I’m able to take myself out of the vision I experience when the doctor touches my face. When he finishes examining me, he confirms that aside from some deep bruises and a few lacerations, all that’s wrong with me is a broken nose. He manipulates my nose for a few moments, and suddenly, I’m able to breathe normally.
Jude shows the doctor out, while I sit on the couch and wait for him to return. After all the pain and fear of the last weeks, I feel empty, numb. I’m tempted to relax in the apparent safety Jude offers, but I know that’s a bad idea. Jude is no saint, and he originally kidnapped me so he could use me for his own gain, just like Enzo.
I wonder, not for the first time, if my life will ever be my own again.
“I’m glad to see you’re back, Miss Lexi!” Frank makes his way over to me when I enter the kitchen, and moves to hug me. He stops and looks at me. I throw myself into his arms, but I’m careful not to touch his skin. “I’m so happy you’ve returned. Mr. Jude has been in a bad mood since you were . . .” He pulls back and looks at me. “Well, since you’ve been gone.”
“How are you? Did they hurt you after I left?”
He rubs a spot on his head. “Nothing this old man can’t deal with. But you, did they feed you at all? You look like you’ve lost twenty pounds.”
I shake my head and lower my gaze. “I wasn’t getting much.” Sadness overtakes me. “When he took Dallas . . .” I stop talking and look around. Happiness quickly replaces the misery. “Wait, is Dallas here?” I look around the kitchen, hoping for a happy reunion.
“Miss Dallas was here, but she’s home now.”
My broad, hopeful smile instantly disappears. As much as I want to see her again, I know it’s not safe for her. “She’s home?” I ask, full of a perverse hope that Frank is going to say ‘no’ and bring her out to join me. But this isn’t a life for her.
“Mr. Jude took her home himself. He made sure she was inside her house safely before he left.”
“Oh,” I say. My mood flat-lines, but I’m happy she’s home.
I wish I could see my parents again.
“Sit down, I’ll make you something to eat. Are you hungry? Thirsty? I can make you anything you like. Pancakes? French toast? Eggs?” He looks at me, hopeful for an answer. But I give him nothing. “How about I make everything and you can have some or all of it?” He ushers me to a chair at the table, and gets to work in the kitchen.
“Frank, it’s too late for a
ny of those, they’re breakfast foods. How about something simple?”
He lifts a frypan from a lower cupboard and places it on the counter. “And who says they’re breakfast foods? I’ll make you some pancakes.”
He doesn’t even bother waiting for my answer; he just starts whipping up the batter. “Okay.” What more can I say? Nothing.
Frank is talking as he’s preparing the batter, but I’ve switched off. Instead I sit and watch the rolling green lawn, now lit by the full, bright moon outside, beyond the glass wall and pool. I’m lost in my own mind, when someone touches my shoulder.
Looking up, I’m expecting to see Frank, but it’s not. It’s Jude. I offer him a small smile then my eyes glance back outside. “How are you feeling?” He sits on the chair opposite me.
“Better. The shower helped, and now Frank’s making me pancakes.”
“Best damn pancakes this side of America,” Frank chimes in happily from the kitchen.
Jude smirks at Frank’s words. “I’ll have some too, Frank.”
“Yes, Mr. Jude.”
Silence falls over us. As I watch the beautiful view, Jude watches me. “Tell me what happened while he had you.”
A lump rapidly forms in my throat, and tears develop in my eyes. “He wasn’t as accommodating as you.”
“I can imagine. Tell me everything.” He extends his fingers toward my hand, but I move it and slide it under my butt. I don’t want a vision tonight, and I don’t have the energy left to fight one. I don’t want to see into anyone’s future.
Jude creases his brows together and lets out a sigh. “Judging by your face, I take it he hit you.” I don’t reply, I simply nod. “Did he do anything else to you?” The question is leading, he’s waiting for me to answer honestly. I know what he means, but neither he nor I are willing to say it aloud. So, I shake my head.
He takes in a sharp, relieved breath.
“He killed my parents, Jude.”
“I know.”
“He assassinated them in cold blood. They didn’t even stand a chance. Because of me, my parents are dead. Because of me, Dallas was kidnapped.”
“It’s not because of you. It’s because of what was done to you.”
A tear falls as sorrow fills every drop of blood, every nerve, every single part of me. “Jude . . .” I mumble through my tears. “I can’t go on like this. If I stay alive, this will only keep happening. You have to kill me.”
Jude abruptly stands from the chair, and paces in front of the table. “What are you talking about? Absolutely not. No fucking way, Alexa.” His shoulders are high, and his jaw is tightly clenched. He’s angry I’ve even asked. “I can’t do that. Don’t ask me.”
“Then someone will come after you, and Frank, and Dallas again,” I state matter-of-factly. “It’s the only way any of you can escape the danger.”
“Danger? Do you know who I am?” Jude asks with a cheeky smile.
“How about Dallas? As long as I’m alive, she’ll always be a target. They can get to me through her.”
Jude sits back down and sighs once more. He sees the logic in what I’m saying, to sacrifice me for the sake of everyone else. “No,” he says. “But . . .”
“There’s no ‘but.’ There’s no other way.”
“There is.”
“The only way around this, Jude, is if we find who put it in me, and get them to reverse it and get it out of me.”
He stares at me, emotionless. Shit, he’s actually considering it. “That’s exactly what I was going to propose. We find who, we get answers, and then we evaluate what the next step is. If someone gave you this, then they’ll have a way to take it away.”
“What if . . . ?”
“Don’t question the unknown, Lexi.”
Frank places a plate of huge, fluffy pancakes down in front of me. He smiles, sets a bottle of maple syrup beside it, and waits. “Thank you, Frank,” I say looking down at the pancakes I no longer feel like eating.
“Miss Lexi, let Mr. Jude help you. He’ll always have your back, and I’ll always be here for you.” He leans down and wraps his arm around my shoulders, giving me a reassuring squeeze.
“But . . .” I try to say.
Frank shakes his head at me. “Take one day at a time, and let him help.” He looks at me, then to Jude. “I’ll get your pancakes, Mr. Jude.” He backs away and smiles.
As I’m lost in thought, staring at my pancakes, Frank places an identical plate with pancakes in front of Jude. He starts eating, and when he’s consumed nearly half he says, “You’ll hurt Frank’s feelings if you don’t eat.”
Absentmindedly I turn to look over my shoulder toward the kitchen, but Frank has now disappeared. “I don’t want to make him feel bad.” Picking up my fork I nibble on one of the pancakes.
“Lexi?”
“Yeah?”
“Turn your head, look at me.” Facing Jude, I turn my head to the side. “Tell me what you can do with your gift.”
I scoff at the word ‘gift.’ “You mean the bane of my existence?”
“Yes, that. Tell me what more you can do with it.”
“Dallas and I were practicing me being able to avoid or leave a vision, like I did with Dr, Morrison while he was examining me. But I didn’t get to practice very much because she got away.”
“Is that all?”
“I can walk around in my visions, and I can talk to the person, although Dallas said it was faint and weird. Um . . . I think that’s it. What do you need me to do?”
“I’m not going to use what you have. But your eye,” he says, pointing to my left eye, “is nearly entirely blue. There’s less than a third that’s green. The rest is bright blue.”
In the daze of the last few days, I haven’t really examined my eye to see how blue it’s turned. “Huh,” I mumble to myself. “I know the more I practice, the stronger I get in my visions. But until whatever this thing is can get taken out of me, I want to learn to control them totally. For me. I want to learn how to touch and not get thrown into a vision. If I have to live with it for whatever duration, then I want to learn how to use it for my benefit. I need to control it.”
“I’ll start digging around and see what my people can find. But you have to tell me everything you know.”
Nodding my head, I agree to give this a try. “Can you tell me how Dallas is?”
The corner of his mouth picks up in a smirk. “She found the sunglass store, and Stevie, and insisted she call me. Of course, I knew who she was, and we had already found who had you.”
“People will always want me if they know what I’m capable of.”
“Which is why I had already given the go-ahead to find whoever did this to you.”
I should be surprised, but I’m not. It should surprise me that he’s started the process to find whoever did this to me, but it doesn’t. Maybe, this way I’ll get some answers and be able to live normally again. “Thank you,” I say quietly.
“You’re welcome.” He inhales the rest of his pancakes.
“How was Dallas?” I pause for a second thinking about the time we were together at Enzo’s. Then I add, “I miss her.”
“She’s very spirited.” He chuckles. “Frank!” He calls loudly. Frank reenters the kitchen and waits for Jude. “Coffee.”
“Yes, Mr. Jude,” Frank replies and starts making Jude a coffee.
“You could always say ‘please,’” I bite toward Jude.
“Why? He gets paid to work for me.” Jude dismisses me, but this pisses me off.
“Kindness costs nothing, Jude. You don’t have to be a jackass to the guy who cooks your meals. You never know, he may spit in your pancakes the next time he makes them.”
Frank chuckles from behind me, and Jude shoots him a silent frown. It makes me laugh, because Frank clears his throat and pretends not to notice Jude’s expression.
“He won’t spit in my pancakes,” Jude says surely.
“Well, I know he won’t spit in mine. Yours, on the other h
and . . . let’s just say I’m never eating from your plate.”
Jude runs his hand over his face, then around the back of his neck. “I swear you give me a headache.” He looks up just in time to see Frank placing a coffee in front of him. “Thank you,” he mumbles in such a small voice it’s barely audible.
“What was that?” I push.
Frank smiles, and Jude nearly bares his teeth to me. “I said, ‘thank you.’” He lifts the corner of his mouth, scowling at me.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Jude,” Frank replies with humor in his voice.
I stand and walk over to the fridge, grabbing a juice, and join Jude back at the table. Frank’s left and we’re alone again. “Was Dallas angry at me for getting her kidnapped?” My stomach tightens in anticipation of his answer.
Why wouldn’t she be mad?
“Not at all. She was worried. She tried to make me get you right away. But, I know Enzo, and I know what he’s capable of. I had to wait for an opportunity.”
“What do you mean?” I sit back in the chair and cross my arms defensively in front of my chest.
“Don’t get angry.”
“I’m not angry, but I want to know what you mean. I want to understand.”
“Ronan was working on finding out what happened.”
My face must reflect what I’m thinking. Who the hell is Ronan? “Who?”
“Ronan. He’s the head of my security.”
“Do I know who he is?”
“I’ll introduce you. Anyway, he was working on finding who took you. The people who raided the house were pretending to be government.”
“So, who are they?” What is going on?
“We’re not sure yet. But, I think it has something to do with what you can do.”
“Huh?” What?
“And Enzo took you from them.”
“Then it only makes sense that Enzo has more power than they did.”
“It doesn’t. I think they were ambushed. They weren’t expecting another player to enter the game.”
Pushing the plate with the pancakes to the side, I lean my elbows on the table and drop my head into them. “What?” I say into the palms of my hands.
“Ronan and I think whoever raided us orchestrated it to make it look like it was a raid by the police against me. But in fact, it had nothing to do with me. They just wanted to separate us.”
The Curse: The Butterfly Effect, Book 2. Page 8