Equinox (Beyond Moondust Trilogy Book 2)

by J. E. Nicassio

  “Don’t you get it?”

  “Samantha, what makes this breakup different?”

  I paused and looked out the window once again, then shifted back to her black eyes.

  “Okay, you want to know what makes Lucien different?”

  What am I trying to pull?

  If I play along, she’ll tell Dad I’m not going to try and kill myself, and I’ll be able to leave this pisshole. But If I tell her the truth, I may never leave this place.

  “Yes. Only if you’re comfortable sharing it with me, that is.”

  I chuckled aloud at her request.

  “Do you think what Lucien did was funny?”

  “Oh, my God, yes, absolutely,” I said, erasing any smile left on my lips.

  “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “You really don’t want to know.”

  Without a doubt, I will grow old here now.

  “Yes, I do. That’s why you’re here, so we can move past this and you can go back home with your father.”

  “Okay, you asked for it. Lucien didn’t break up with me—or rape me, or beat me. He isn’t even from New Mexico.”

  “Then where’s he from?”

  “Where’s he from? Hmm. Not anywhere remotely nearby.”

  “He didn’t break up with you as your father thinks?”

  “He didn’t break up with me, you stupid bitch. Lucien isn’t from New Mexico, or Pittsburgh, or even from this planet.”

  I couldn’t believe I had said it aloud.

  I expected Dr. O’Neil to call the orderlies and come and take me away in a straight-jacket, but she just sat there, tapping her pen on her pad.

  “Did you hear what I just said?”

  “Yes, Samantha, I heard.”

  How could she just sit there when those words turned my world upside down and inside out? As graceful as the morning mist, Dr. O’Neil stood and walked up to the window and looked outside.

  “What makes you think he went back to his planet?”

  I wasn’t sure if she was humoring me or what.

  “Because I saw him disappear.”

  “How did he disappear? Did he walk away? Did someone take him away? Did a flying saucer pick him up?”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  As calmly as I could, I continued. “He went into the light before my eyes.”

  “Maybe you just thought he did. It could’ve been an illusion. Like a ghost or an angel. Did you ever think of that?”

  “No, he’s not an angel. I saw him disappear right before my eyes.”

  Her emotionless reaction puzzled me. I wished I could read her mind. She acted as if I were saying something as casual as what was on last night’s dinner menu. It didn’t seem right. Why was she acting so cool and nonchalant? Dr. O’Neil turned around, sat back down, and looked at her notes.

  “You know what? I lied,” I bolted toward the door.

  “Samantha, wait—” Dr. O’Neil moved with lightning speed, met me there, and took my hand as I was about to turn the knob.

  My eyes glanced at her hand. How dare she try to show me kindness?

  I opened the door and slammed it shut. Outside in the hallway, I paused and rubbed my temples. “What have I done?”

  21 Alex Marks

  I went through the rest of the day in a daze while I tried to figure out my next move. I decided to go to the gym before dinner. After changing into a pair of gray sweats, I headed down to the exercise room with my sparring gloves in my hand. I was about to turn the corner into the gym when I saw O’Neil coming right for me.

  “Samantha, where are you heading off to in such a hurry?”

  “Uh…to work out before dinner,” I answered quickly, continuing to walk.

  “Whoa, just a minute, young lady,” she said, holding out her hand with my cell phone in it. “Keep your calls to a minimum. I told you would get it back; I keep my promises.”

  I reached out to take my phone from her when she closed her hand tightly around it.

  “Not so fast.”

  I pulled my hand back, confused.

  “Don’t give me a reason to take it back. Do we understand each other?”

  “Yes, I understand,” I said, mimicking her glare. She opened her hand; I snatched my phone.

  “Okay then, have a good workout; try not to overdo it.”

  She turned and walked away, her black pumps clicking. What a bitch.

  I paused a moment, watching her black ponytail fade down the hall. I tucked my phone in my sock and headed for the gym. It was quiet with the lights dimmed. I felt lucky because I had the whole place to myself. I walked in, letting out a huge sigh, and strode up to the red punching bag and punched it with all my might until sweat was pouring down my face. I hadn’t realized until I was finished beating the hell out of the bag that someone was staring at me from the office. He was wearing sweats and had a white terry-cloth towel around his neck. He was bald, but it looked like he had shaved it by choice. He held himself with confidence, like he was either in the military or a cop. I pretended not to notice him and continued to hit the bag. When I looked sideways, I could see the man was standing almost right on top of me with his hand on his hips and a bit of a smirk on his face. Holding the punching bag to keep it from swinging, I stopped and gazed at the man who seemed to think he was watching an episode of America’s Funniest Home Videos.

  “Excuse me, do you mind?” I said in my coldest voice.

  “Hmm, you don’t have a clue what you’re doing, do you?”

  “Not really.”

  I wanted to smile but didn’t. Letting go of the bag, I headed to the water fountain and took a sip of cold water. I wiped my mouth, grabbed my duffel bag, pulled out my towel, and wiped my face.

  “How long have you been here? I don’t recall seeing you around,” the man said, looking me up and down.

  “A week.”

  “You’ve got the strength of your strike, but you’re doing it all wrong. You’re only using the upper half of your body; you’ve got to put your whole body into if you’re gonna hurt someone.”

  “I thought I was doing just fine, thank you.” I narrowed my eyes on the stranger, wishing he would go back to his office and leave me alone.

  “I’m sure you did,” he walked with me. “You have some meat on you, too.”

  “Ooh, thank you,” I said sarcastically.

  “I don’t mean you’re fat.” He chuckled. “You’re not little is all I’m saying, which is good.”

  “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

  He held out his hand for me to shake. “Alex Marks.”

  I looked down at his taped hand and ignored it.

  “You have two first names.” A nervous laugh escaped my lips.

  Embarrassed by my immaturity, I hurried and shook his hand. I don’t know why I found it funny, but I did. I excused myself and started to make my way out of the gym when Alex stopped me.

  “I get it. You’re a smart ass, but you know what? I’m a bigger ass, and you suck at kick-boxing.”

  “You came out here to tell me I suck?” I started to laugh again. But this time, Alex was laughing too.

  “Why don’t you come back in here and I’ll give you a few pointers? I think you would be good at martial arts instead.”

  I paused, thinking for a moment before giving this new acquaintance an answer.

  “What do you do here?” I questioned, a little suspicious of his good nature.

  “I’m the resident exercise guru,” Alex said with a warm smile.

  “Is that what you do on the outside?”

  “Ha! You got me. I’m a family therapist.”

  “Uh-huh. I knew it. O’Neil put you up to this.”

  “No, she didn’t. I got
the impression you were either preparing to kick someone’s butt, or you had some pent-up anger issues. I thought you needed some guidance, that’s all.”

  “Okay, whatever.” I said, lifting my duffel back over my shoulder and heading out once more.

  “If you change your mind, I’ll be here tomorrow,” he said to my back.

  22 The Workout

  I woke, sat up, and threw my legs over the bed, then reached into my sock for my cell; I was going to call my father and tell him I was sorry, but I called the Fosters instead. After about twenty rings, I hung up and dialed again. No such luck. I put my phone down and began to weep. Pretty sure it was the dream I’d had that night. I was standing with Cassiel at the ranch. He was taunting me. Lucien came to ride Pepper, his horse, and started to stomp on me. That’s all I could remember, but it put me in a rotten mood. That’s when I decided to take Alex Marks up on his offer. I changed into my sweats and headed to the gym. He was there as he said he would be. His eyes met mine with a gentle smile and he held his hand up, gesturing for me to hold on.

  I paced while I waited. Nervously, I decided to put my sparring gear on and take a few hits on the bag. After about ten good swings, Alex made his way toward me. He was wearing the same gray sweats he had on the day before, his hands taped.

  “I’m glad you came,” he said.

  Not sure if I made the right decision in coming, I smiled sheepishly. I was here, so I was going to make the most of it.

  “Okay, the first thing you need is to warm up. Hop on the treadmill and start running. I want to see you sweating bullets,” Alex said.

  I stepped onto the treadmill, hit the power button, and started to jog.

  Alex increased the level.

  “Five? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope.” He hit the machine until the number seven was glowing green.

  I nearly fell backward, caught myself, and turned my jog into a sprint. I was sweating five minutes into it and wanted to stop.

  Alex shook his head and gave me a frown. “I want you on there for at least twenty minutes.”

  By the time Alex came over to turn off the treadmill, my clothes were drenched in sweat, and I was panting like a dog. I jumped off the treadmill and paced in circles so that my heart rate would not slow down too much.

  “Catch,” Alex threw me a jump rope. “Get going; show me what you can do.”

  I gave him a deadly glare as I stepped over the rope in a skip. “What are you trying to do? Kill me?”

  He chuckled at my expense. “Oh, come on. You’re a young kid. You should be able to do more than this.”

  I felt like I was on an episode of The Biggest Loser. He reached over and took the rope from my hand, and away he went.

  Show-off.

  “It’s all about pacing yourself and pushing yourself beyond what you think you can do. It’s all in the mind, Sam. If you think you can, you will; and if you believe you can do it, you al-ready did it.” He stopped and set the rope down, then settled next to me, looking me up and down. “I can tell you’re already a strong kid, but you can be stronger, quicker.”

  I hung onto every word.

  “The next thing you’re going to do is work out with weights. Get over here.” Alex walked over to where the free weights were and picked up a ten-pound dumbbell; then he lifted it and did some curls. “This is going to build your biceps; then I’ll show you some triceps extensions.”

  I nodded and watched; then it was my turn. I always thought I was strong, but my arm felt as if it would snap. We worked out together for about an hour. I wanted more than any-thing to get right into the martial arts, but Alex said I had to start here first. When we were done, he threw me a towel. I wiped my face and wrapped it around my neck.

  We sat down on the mat, stretching while we chatted.

  “So how did you end up here?” he asked between hamstring stretches.

  “I don’t know. I ask myself that same question every day.”

  He stopped stretching and stared at me with a gentle kindness in his eyes. “It must’ve been pretty bad for you to end up here.”

  “It was me.” I stopped, stood, and gathered my gear.

  “Sam, you don’t have to be ashamed. All the kids here have issues; some aren’t that nice, either.”

  “It wasn’t that bad at home. Maybe things seemed worse than they were.” My eyes started to burn. I don’t know why, but I felt like I could trust Alex. He was the first person here who seemed normal. I wanted to talk to him, to open up all the pent-up shit I had in-side.

  “Growing up is tough. I remember when my mother died; I was sixteen. I thought I would never recover. It seemed then like my whole family fell apart. She was what held my broth-ers and sister and me together.”

  “How did she die?”

  “Leukemia. It happened fast; I didn’t have time to take it and adjust. I was fighting with her the night before she went to the hospital. I didn’t realize how sick she was until it was too late. I was out with friends and we were drinking. My buddy wrapped his folks’ car around a telephone pole. I was out partying, drinking, getting stoned, and my mom was in the hospital dying. Then I got arrested.”

  There was a deep, unresolved pain in his eyes as he spoke. I knew exactly how he felt.

  “I was in the county jail while my mom died; I never got to say I was sorry or that I loved her.”

  “That’s awful,” I said, choking back tears. “My mom killed herself after my brother was killed in a car accident. It was my fault. I was texting and driving. My brother and my moth-er’s deaths were my fault. I hit a deer and lost control of my car and ended up over the embankment. I live with the guilt every day.” I wiped a tear from my eye.

  “So we’re pretty much fucked up,” Alex said after a long while.

  “What the? Oh, my god, yes we are.” I bent over laughing.

  He took hold of my hand and lifted me to my feet. It was good to laugh and to find someone just as messed up as I was. He, too, carried the burden of losing a parent—a loss so deep it lingered on.

  23 Muay Thai

  I continued to work out before dinner every day for the next several weeks. It wasn’t until the beginning of March that Alex finally showed me how to fight. I was motivated and excited. I got a little nervous when I saw him carrying the white duct tape and got a flash-back to the time Cassiel tied me up in Area 51.

  “What’s with the duct tape?”

  “It’s not duct tape, it’s zinc oxide tape. I’m going to wrap your hands; it’s going to strengthen your wrists and steady your fingers.”

  He started wrapping the tape across my knuckles, tightly across the back of my hand toward my little finger, under my wrist, and out at the side of my thumb. Under and over until my hands were covered. This was the day I’d been waiting for, and I was ready.

  After my warm-up, Alex told me I was going to be taught how to defend myself and kill, if need be.

  “I’m going to teach you Muay Thai. I learned this when I was serving in the Navy overseas in a small village outside Cambodia.”

  I took a ponytail fastener and pulled my hair back.

  “Muay Thai is a hard martial art. It’s deadly; the only time I want you to use it is if your life’s in danger. It’s the art of eight limbs: you use your hands, shins, elbows, and knees. Say it with me.”

  Together we pronounced, “Nak Muay.”

  Alex pranced about the room. “I’m going to teach you how to execute strikes using the eight points of contact. This is different than regular boxing. Instead of two points of contact using just your fists, we’re going to use four points with fists and feet, like in typical karate.” He raised his fist in a punching motion. My eyes followed his every movement.

  “How long has it been around?”

  “Over two thousand years; it’s the oldest form of m
artial art.”

  I smiled, watching him jab, punch, and kick the air.

  “Not only will you train with me, you will become the art. It will become you,” he said, taking my hands as he moved with me.

  “I’ll become the Muay Thai,” I echoed.

  “If you truly want to fight to defend yourself, you have to.”

  He held my hands in his, his eyes staring into mine with excitement and enthusiasm. “Muay Thai fighters are strong and powerful because the movements are energy-draining; you need strength and stamina. That’s why I made you work out so hard for so long.”

  Alex and I worked out for hours. He taught me two basic moves. The first was the Clinch. He took hold of the back of my head and pressed his forearm on my collar bone. In turn, I did the same to him. I learned the typical punching techniques applied in Muay Thai. The tapping of the head downward before releasing a throw.

  “Shrink your neck to protect your chin,” Alex showed me.

  “Jab right hand, hook, uppercut, left jab, push off back leg.”

  “I feel stupid.”

  “You sure do look stupid,” Finn said. Finn. Oh no.

  “Not now,” I said.

  “Listen, you have to have confidence.”

  I let him move my hands in a punch. I tried to concentrate, but Finn was laughing at me.

  “I am confident,” I shouted.

  “Then act like it.”

  I tried brushing off his remark.

  “The right hand protects the face. Left shoulder protects the face. Push, step, and lean into the punch.”

  I tried and almost fell. I stopped and looked at him squarely. “This is never gonna happen.”

  “Yes, it will. Throw your body into it.” He showed me again. “Your turn.”

  I stood in position. Finn laughed a moment, gestured goodbye, and was gone. Thank God.

  I let my body listen to Alex. “Ready…. Throw your body into it, Sam. Boom, boom, roll in-to it, pow, pow, hands up!” Alex started to spar with me. “Shrink your neck, protect that pretty face. No chicken wings, pop, straight out. You did it!”