Manipulated

by Kimberly Montague

  My heart simultaneously leapt for joy and shook with fear. "So if I told you—" Oh God, could I say this? I swallowed hard. "If I told you—" I wanted to tell him, but I was so scared of his reaction. I closed my eyes

  "You can tell me anything, sunshine, you know that."

  I nodded, but it didn't help my fear. I dragged my lower lip through my teeth, and he nudged my chin up until our eyes met again. His eyes were so warm and caring. The memories of him taking care of me, holding me, staying with me made my heart swell. I opened my mouth a little and just had to say it. "Would you believe me if I told you—I—I love you?"

  He was completely still, but he didn't break eye contact with me. Then the corner of his mouth pulled up, and his eyebrow arched high on his forehead. "Is that what you're telling me, sweetheart?"

  I dropped my eyes. The laughter in his voice and mocking way he looked at me made my heart drop into my stomach and the nausea sweep back through me. He didn't believe me, or he didn't feel the same, or he didn't care, and it twisted in my chest like a knife. Chin up, chin up, I told myself. He thought I was teasing. Okay, I could be teasing. I arched my eyebrow to match his, put on my best flirtatious smile and stared him down. "No, you're just hearing things. That's what I said isn't it? Or are you too sick to listen?"

  He smiled arrogantly and nodded like he had it all figured out. "Sarcasm, huh? Haven't seen that in a while." But then his smile fell slowly away, and he tilted his head, moving closer to me. His eyes were full of surprise and fear. "Sarcasm, Risa?"

  And I knew he knew I'd meant it. I couldn't shrug it off and save face. I pulled away from him and stood up quickly, too quickly. My frantically beating heart joined up with my exhaustion, and I stumbled dizzily. But he was right there in front of me, pulling me into his arms.

  I tried to push him away, but I was too tired and feeling incredibly close to weepy, overemotional tears. I couldn't fight him and the tears at the same time, so I let him hold me.

  "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't think—I thought you were—Shit, Risa, I don't know what to say."

  Say you love me. Say you won't ever let me go. Say you feel as out of control and scared as I do, I thought. But I didn't say any of it and neither did he.

  He kissed my forehead. "It is easier to believe the bad stuff."

  The almost pitiful way he'd said it reminded me of what Grams had said. She told me I had to be patient. She said this would be hard for him. But still, he said he trusted me. I could accept that it was too soon for him to fall for me, but if he trusted me, he should at least be able to trust that I loved him.

  I lifted my head and tried to sound strong, but my voice was so small. "But you trust me." Unshed tears gathered in his eyes and pain and maybe a little hope as he stared at me. I put my hand to his cheek and took a deep breath. It took a hefty pile of guts to say it again, but he wanted to believe me. I could see it. "I—love you." He closed his eyes and shook his head rapidly, making me put both palms to his cheeks. "I love you, Brodie." I pressed a kiss to his lips, but he didn't respond. The fact that he couldn't accept that I loved him gave me a heart-wrenching glimpse into the pain he must have gone through, and my lower lip trembled with my own tears. "Look at me," I asked shakily. "Brodie, look at me."

  He opened his eyes, and a tear slid down his cheek and onto my thumb. He was shaking his head, and his eyes begged me for something I couldn't define—to stop, to go on, I didn't know.

  "I don't lie. You know that. I don't say things just to have something to say, and I hate people who try to manipulate others. You care about me, you take care of me, you help me be normal, you won't let me hide, and I can't get your eyes out of my mind, your rolling laughter, that lopsided grin, and your constant arrogance. I'm not some dumb chick you slept with a few times. This isn't like anything either of us has ever had. You know all this, and you really can't see how I can love you?" I swallowed hard again, feeling the adrenaline of my little speech wearing off. I stared at his chest for a moment, pulling my courage back around me. I stared as deeply into his eyes as I possibly could. "I'm in love with you, Brodie. I don't know—"

  He pulled my lips to his and drowned out every thought in my head. Before I knew it, he was on top of me, and I felt feverish again, but for an entirely different reason. My heartbeat was thundering in my ears, and our arms tangled, trying to pull each other's shirts off. When his cool skin met mine, we both gasped, and he pulled back.

  I reached for him, but he got up off the bed and stood hunched over with his hands on his knees, panting like he'd just run several miles. I pulled my shirt back over my head and stared at my hands.

  "Risa, you're still so sick, baby. I can feel how warm you are compared to me."

  I grabbed the pillow next to me and threw it at him as hard as I could.

  He laughed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn't have—"

  "You're damn right you shouldn't have." I got up, livid now. "You keep doing this! You start this, you make out with me, and then there's some reason to stop. Always a reason—" I shoved him, and he fell back onto the floor in shock. "Well I'm sick of it. You keep treating me like a damn baby." He got up and put his hands on my arms, but I was so mad. I shoved at his chest with all my strength, and he flew fifteen feet from me, backward into the wall.

  I froze. My eyes were as wide as his. My jaw fell open. I couldn't—how could I—I'd been hoping to merely push him away from me. This wasn't possible.

  He stayed on the floor and shook his head, rolling his arm back. Had I hurt him? How could I have hurt him? I shook my head and moved to kneel on the floor in front of him. I was so mad at him, but I didn't mean to hurt him. And yet… I couldn't remember why I was mad.

  His voice was gravely serious. "How did you do that, Risa?"

  "I—I—you—you weren't expecting me to push—I surprised you—"

  "No, I knew what you were gonna do. I was ready for you, but you—you're not that strong, sweetheart. How did you do that?"

  "I don't know. I just got so mad." The fear of not knowing what was happening made me start shaking. "What's wrong with me?"

  "Nothing, baby." He pulled me into his arms. "It's okay."

  It wasn't okay. He could have been seriously injured—by me. It just wasn't right. "But I hurt you."

  "No, the wall hurt me. I'm fine, Risa. We're both fine."

  Dad came storming into the room. "What the hell is going on up here?" He looked down at us. "Where's your damn shirt?"

  "It's fine. Everything's fine, Scott. Risa just got a little mad at me and pushed me. We're fine."

  "Why did she push you, what did you do to her?" The accusation in his narrowed eyes and clenched fists made reality step back into my brain.

  What was I gonna say? I got pissed because he wouldn't sleep with me when my father was downstairs and his grandma, and I'd been so sick I nearly died, and still had a fever, and—I buried my face in his chest, feeling like an idiot. Of course he had pulled away from me with all that was going on. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

  He chuckled and rubbed my back, whispering in my ear. "That's my fault, sunshine. I'm more experienced with this—I should have thought that through before I attacked you."

  "If someone doesn't answer me right now—"

  I picked up my head. "I got angry, Dad. It was stupid, and he didn't deserve it. I shouldn't have pushed him—but—" I turned back to Brodie. "But how did I push you that hard? How—"

  He put his hands on my cheeks. "It's okay. It's fine, Risa."

  "How far did she push you?" Dad asked, his voice pitching higher.

  Brodie kept his eyes on me. "Fifteen feet."

  Dad stepped forward. "Honey, move so I can help him up."

  I looked up to make sure Dad was calm and not angry anymore then crawled away. The adrenaline of my anger had completely worn off, leaving me tired again. Dad watched me and shook his head. He leaned down and put his arm around me. "Let me get you to bed first."

  "I'm oka
y," I protested, but he pulled me up anyway and helped me back to bed.

  He went back to Brodie, who hadn't moved and was much more careful with him.

  "How hard did she throw you?" I heard Dad ask super low. Brodie responded, but I couldn't hear his words. "You wanna go downstairs?" Again, I didn't hear Brodie's response, but he followed Dad out of the room, moving slowly.

  The Only One You'll Give in to

  A few minutes later, they both came back, looking too serious and far too worried. Brodie nudged me over and sat carefully next to me. Dad sat on the end of the bed.

  "Am I dying?" I asked seriously, knowing something awful was wrong and knowing I still felt awful.

  Dad patted my calf. "No, but—" He looked toward the window. "Let me get Gena."

  He left the room, and I felt so alone despite being next to Brodie. He didn't reach for my hand or touch me in any way, and it scared me and hurt. But I'd hurt him. I didn't mean to, but I had. Maybe he was mad or afraid of me. I reached my hand toward him, but pulled back.

  He turned to me with this stunned look on his face. His eyes were aimed in my direction, but he seemed to be somewhere else. I scooted farther down on the bed and ducked my head. Were they sending me to the quarantine facility? I wrung my hands together for several minutes before Brodie covered them with his hand. I couldn't bring myself to look up at him.

  "I just can't believe—" He squeezed my hand tight. "I'm scared too, sunshine."

  Grams and Dad came back in. Dad took up his previous spot, but Grams stayed standing.

  She stared at Brodie, looking incredibly concerned. "We don't know for sure, but you three are showing all the signs of actually being infected with the Setenid Blight virus, not just side effects of a vaccine. Information is really limited, but Scott and I agree that what we've been told about this virus has been, well, hand-picked to avoid widespread panic. The best information we've gotten has been from message boards and forums, so we don't know how reliable it is. The fever, stomach flu, cold-like symptoms, and irritability match with what the media has said about the virus. The, uh, aggression and abnormal strength are symptoms we only found on message boards. They mentioned extreme symptoms like Risa's, but—" She looked at Dad.

  "I'll never lie to her, Gena."

  She nodded. "Patients like Risa—with as severe a case as Risa's—they, well they either didn't survive or went on to—to suffer from psychosis inevitably resulting in the murder and mutilation of those around them."

  Rapidly, I shook my head. Those were my options? Die or mutilate those around me? I looked to Brodie without really seeing him. I'd already hurt him. I looked to Dad, would he be next? My heart was beating so fast I couldn't catch my breath. I had to leave. I couldn't take the chance that—I couldn't—Brodie was blocking me on one side, Dad was in front of me. I crawled back to the corner of the bed.

  "Risa, hold on," Grams reasoned. "We don't know everything. This could be—"

  I couldn't listen. I couldn't take the chance. I climbed over the low cabinet on the other side of the bed, shaking and feeling sick again. I stepped forward, but Grams was in front of me. I wanted to shove her out of the way, and the image of her flying across the room like Brodie made me run for the toilet again. I shook and shook as my stomach forced up the liquids in it.

  Vaguely, I heard Brodie yelling, "Get out!" as I shoved myself in the small section between the toilet and the shower. I started coughing and coughing and couldn't calm down, couldn't catch my breath.

  "Risa, breathe through your nose, baby."

  I tried, but I couldn't stop coughing. He put a cold washcloth on the back of my neck and patted my back hard. I shook my head and put my arms out, trying to keep him away from me.

  "Knock it off," he said angrily as he left the bathroom.

  I closed my eyes and tried to stop coughing. I pulled the cold washcloth to my face and tried to breathe through my nose, but I was so congested.

  "Here."

  I opened my eyes, and he held out a hard mint and a cup of water. I took the mint and tried to hold the water, but I was shaking too badly. He sat on the floor behind, wrapping his around me so he could help me hold the cup to my lips.

  "You have to calm down and stop pushing me away." He put his hand to my forehead. "They thought they were doing what was right—telling you everything. But you're still so weak and so sick. I tried to tell them to wait, but your dad saw how scared you were when you threw me across the room, and he refused to keep it from you any longer.

  My voice was barely understandable, but I shoved the words out there. "I have to—go. I can't—hurt anyone else."

  He moved beside me, watching me closely. "Okay, baby. You and me will go away until we know what's happening." I shook my head, but he cupped my chin, holding me still. "I have the same infection you have. I have more strength just like you. I can hold you back and fight you if I have to. You won't hurt me."

  I thought about that. They said he was infected along with Sammy. But they didn't have the severe symptoms I had. Still, maybe he could stop me from doing something horrible. "You swear?"

  "You don't lie to me, and I'll never lie to you." He let go of my chin and scooted back against the wall, putting his arm out to me. "Come here."

  I crawled into his arms, straddling his hips like I had after the bikini incident. How many times had he rescued me? How many times had he helped me through a freak-out? He had to be sick of it.

  "Why are you still with me? Aren't you tired of taking care of me?"

  He sighed, but tightened his arms around me. "You scare the hell out of me, sunshine. You make me wanna run screaming from this house and into the arms of the first nameless, faceless piece of ass I can find."

  What? I tried to pull away from him, but he really was as strong as I was, and he held tight.

  "Every time you push me away, I think this is it, she's realized she deserves better. But I can't let you go. I can't be without you. I've freaked out a hundred times since we first started 'spending time together,' I just hide it a lot better than you do. But every time I get scared and wanna run, you pull me back. You don't even know you're doing it. Like Serena at the mall earlier—you didn't just walk away from me, you fought back. You're just there for me, and I love that about you. I'm not leaving you. Are you hearing me?" I nodded, and he ran his hand down the back of my head. "So stop wasting your strength trying to push me away."

  I thought about that for a moment. I was stronger with him, and he'd said I kept pulling him back to me. We were a team. "Okay, let's go now."

  He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me away from him, searching my face. When he shook his head, I let myself fall forward into his arms again. "You're too sick, baby. You feel so warm. I'm taking you back to bed."

  He stood up with me still in his arms, carrying me like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around his waist and noticed he wasn't holding me with the shoulder that hit the wall. One-armed—he was carrying me with one arm. He really was stronger. After putting me back in bed, he went for the thermometer.

  "I can't stay here, Brodie. Please?"

  He stared over at me thoughtfully before taking the thermometer to the bathroom. A minute later, he came back. "Why don't I have Grams go stay with your dad? You, me, Sammy, and Lara can stay here. Sammy's as strong as we are, so he could always help me if needed."

  "Lara—I can't take the chance I'd hurt her, Brodie."

  His crooked smile surprised me. "Sammy wouldn't let you hurt her, baby. They finally got their crap together. She won't leave him, and me making her would be the equivalent of someone trying to make me leave you. I won't do that to her."

  It seemed like the most reasonable option. Sammy and Brodie could stop me from hurting anyone. And I was happy Lara and Sammy finally figured out that they belonged together. "Okay."

  "Good. Now let's see what the damage is." He held the thermometer out to me, and I took it, putting it in place under my tongue. "For the record, I like
taking care of you. You don't flail your arms around and beg for someone to hold you up when you can stand on your own. You're always trying not to need help, to be tough. I love that I'm the only one you'll give in to."

  I couldn't believe how completely lucky I was. I had no idea what I'd done to deserve someone so amazing, but I couldn't have been more grateful.

  "103.1. Just close your eyes for a few minutes. I'll be right back."

  I nodded and watched him leave the room, closing my eyes when I couldn't see him anymore. I was coughing again when Brodie came back with pretty much everyone behind him. He came to my side with the cup of water, but I could barely breathe, let alone drink water.

  "Hand me the mints," he said calmly to Sammy.

  It took a few minutes, but it finally stopped. I was so exhausted by then that I just fell back and closed my eyes.

  Grams' hands were cold on my arm as she checked my blood pressure. "I won't leave until she's holding down water and comes back down into the 102s. Her blood pressure is too high. She needs to rest."

  "Risa?" I opened my eyes to see Dad crouched next to me. He looked pained. "I'm sorry we scared you, honey, but I can't leave you."

  "Scott," Brodie warned.

  He nodded sadly at Brodie. "Three minutes. I'm just three minutes away. I love you, Risa."

  I cleared my throat, trying to make it less scratchy. I hadn't told him I loved him since I was a kid. It felt unfamiliar, but right somehow. "L—love you too. Sorry I'm difficult."

  "Aw, honey, no one could've handled all this better than you have." He kissed my forehead and left.

  Brodie crawled on the other side of the bed and helped me sit up to drink some water before letting me close my eyes. I suffered through a couple more hourly temperature checks before I must have hit a normal enough range for them to let me sleep. My dreams were scary and centered on me having superman-like abilities as I systematically destroyed the entire city. Just as I was using my laser-beam eyes on everyone in the office at school, I thankfully woke up.