by Skye Genaro
The crab puffs turned to acid in my stomach. "They're not recruits if you force them to go with you. That's kidnapping."
He waved my comment off. "Kidnapping is beneath me. I act as a guardian, and as such, I can ensure certain things. You allow me to introduce you to the head of the organization. In return, I'll see that no harm comes to you or your family. I can't make the same promise if the street soldiers drag you in."
Mrs. Crane's laughter floated from the other room. Raquelle's high voice reached me. The feeble-looking Mr. Crane was a respected member of the community, a husband and a dad. He was also a monster hiding in plain sight. Like Gianna had warned.
"If you go with me willingly, you can still resume a normal life. You'll go to school, have a boyfriend, go to prom. The only difference is you'll do a little work for us now and again. Nobody will ever know about your second life."
My mouth moved but no words came out.
"Take a day or two and think about it. Sooner or later, you'll be working with us. Everyone like you does, but there's no need for you to suffer."
A fuse lit inside me. "You can never have me."
"I take that as a personal challenge, my dear. Go on, now. Your friend is waiting."
Jaxon stood at the end of the hall with our coats. I ran past him and out the front door.
"What was that all about?" he asked, setting my coat over my shoulders.
"He's one of them. God! How could I have been so stupid?" I gulped air and kicked the hubcap on Jaxon's car as hard as I could.
"Raquelle's dad is in the Mutila?" he asked.
"Connor warned me, but did I listen?"
I slid into the passenger seat and locked the door. Dropped my face into my hands. "He wants to take me in. Recruit me. He says he can make things easy for me."
Jaxon gathered me in his arms. "Sshhh. It'll be all right."
"No it won't! He knows what I can do and if I don't go with him, then he'll tell them. They're going to come after me. My family, too, if I don't do what he says."
Jaxon was quiet. "Do you want me to take you home?"
I sniffled and wiped my tears with my sleeve. "No. Can we go to your place? Would your brother mind?"
"He won't. I'm living alone at the apartment."
"Then let's go there."
On the way to Jaxon's apartment building, I calmed down. It took some deep breathing, but my rational brain finally got a grip. Only then did I realize the contradiction I'd picked up when Mr. Crane cornered me.
Before he had landed in the hospital I had, on occasion, felt faction residue on him. This time, I did not. He was softened…different. His words were threatening but his aura did not have the same toxic rawness. I didn't know what to make of this.
"What are you going to do?" Jaxon asked after I shared this with him.
"I don't know. If I refuse, maybe he won't turn me in. And he's known Kimber for like, forever. I can't believe he'd do anything to hurt her or my dad." My mind raced with paranoid tangents. "Who else knows? Has he told anyone? There were more of them at his house today. What if Mr. Lauer is one of them, too?"
"He's not," he said hastily.
"How can you be sure?"
"Uh, you know, he doesn't have that vibe about him."
I narrowed my eyes. Pressure pulsed between us and when my eyes didn't leave him, he decided to expand.
"I spent time with Luma," he explained. "Trust me, if Mr. Lauer was one of them, I would have picked up on it."
"So now you're an expert?" I snapped.
"I don't think you have to worry about your principal. Let's take one thing at a time."
He parked and led me into a blood-red brick building. We climbed the wide staircase to the third floor. His apartment was small, with a kitchen and table on one side and an oversized couch on the other. Another door led to his bedroom. I collapsed on the couch.
"What if you took Mr. Crane up on his offer?" Jaxon asked.
I looked at him like he'd flown in from Jupiter. "You did not just suggest that I join his army of freaks."
"I thought that maybe it wouldn't be as bad as you think. When I was talking to Luma…"
"She joined voluntarily!" I yelled. "Whose side are you on, anyway?" My forehead pricked and my fingers tingled like mad. My body felt brittle as glass, like one more ounce of bad news and I would shatter into a thousand unsalvageable pieces.
I didn't bother to rein in my aura. What did it matter now? It blasted through the apartment, slamming kitchen cupboards and shaking the tables and toppling chairs.
In the unit next door, a dog heard the noise and erupted in a deep, booming bark.
"Jesus," Jaxon said when my disruption finally ceased. He peeled his eyes away from the overturned chairs. "That was all you?"
"You have no idea." I strapped my hands behind my neck and let out a long puff of air. "Okay. Okay. I'm good." I had to keep a clear head if I was going to handle this dilemma.
He put a hand on my knee. "Hear me out. If you go with someone who knows the leader, you'd be safer than trying to survive on your own."
I studied his face. Yesterday he'd quit his hunt in order to keep me safe. At the slightest breach in our plan, he was ready to give up. Ready for me to give up. He wasn't the level-headed person I'd thought. My fists curled in frustration.
"If I go, then I have to follow any order they give me. If I refuse, they will torture me until I give in. Do you get that?"
"Sure, but…"
"There is no but! What is going on with you? These people are savages!"
The cupboard doors slammed open and their contents churned onto the kitchen floor. The chairs hurled themselves against the wall. The television exploded.
I buried my face in the cushion to protect it from flying glass. Jaxon hit the floor. When he came up, he wore a crooked smile.
"Wipe that smirk off your face," I said, appalled. Was it my imagination or was he pushing my emotional buttons on purpose? "You keep pestering me about the kinds of ability I have, so there you have it. This is what I live with."
He brushed glass slivers from his jeans and picked out a fragment that had embedded itself in the back of his hand. He surveyed the damage in awe. "Wow. I just gotta say…wow."
Chapter 25
It took us an hour to clean up. One of the chairs had left a gash in the wall. The apartment manager would make him pay for this for sure.
"I'll reimburse you for anything I broke," I said, wiping splattered ketchup off the kitchen wall.
Jaxon dumped the last of the glass into the wastebasket. "My foster brother will take care of it. He's loaded. He makes a killing in finance." His voice faded suddenly, like he was aware of words slipping out. His aura bristled.
I lowered the washcloth, trying to gauge the abrupt change. "What is he, a banker or something?"
He snatched the rag out of my hand and tossed it in the sink.
"I don't want to talk about him." He kissed me on the neck. "Are you feeling better?" His aura went hazy, just-like-that. What was it that kept throwing him off balance?
"Your brother is rich and pays for your apartment and Jeep. He sounds like a great guy. How come you never talk about him?" I asked.
"Because he's not that interesting. My mind's not anywhere but here right now." He rubbed my neck with one hand. "How about we order takeout and stay in and pretend we're in a movie theater?"
"I broke the television."
"Who said we have to watch a movie? We can find another way to keep ourselves occupied. Or if you want, I can take you home." He turned his mouth down in a pout.
He pressed his thumb against a knot that had formed at the base of my neck and massaged in tiny circles. It felt so good. His hand was warm and strong and made me feel safe.
"Kimber will be at the party late. I don't want to be in that big house by myself."
"Then we'll make our own fun right here. Does Thai takeout sound good?"
"Sure."
He disappeared in
to his bedroom with his phone and ordered the food. He was in there a while, so out of curiosity, I dug into the stack of DVDs sitting next to the now-defunct television. Most of them were cheap horror flicks, the kind that I refused to watch because they gave me nightmares. The rest were heart-pounding thrillers.
A short while later, there was a knock at the door. Jaxon bounded out of his bedroom, hanging up on his caller as he did.
"I'll get that," he said. He met the take-out delivery guy and paid for the order. The neighbor lady from next door came out of her apartment leading an enormous Rottweiler. He growled at the delivery guy, and the woman put all her weight into restraining the dog. She yanked him down the stairs toward the outside doors.
Jaxon handed me the white takeout bags. Seeing as I'd broken a bunch of his plates, we ate straight out of the containers.
I munched on spring rolls and curry, deep in thought about what to do about Mr. Crane. When he cornered me at his house, he seemed to be going along with someone else's orders. Like he, too, was a pawn.
"Maybe I could convince Mr. Crane to go with me to the police instead of handing me over," I said. This sounded crazy once I said it out loud, but I was grasping. Gianna had warned me not to report them, but the situation would be different if I went with one of their own.
Jaxon quirked an eyebrow.
"I'm telling you," I continued, "I don't think he really wanted to turn me in."
"Let's say you're right about that. What are you going to tell the police? Do you have any proof of anything that these guys did?"
"Roth's SUV hit Becca's car," I answered.
"You can't prove it because you don't have a traceable license plate number."
His shortsighted perspective was starting to give me a headache. "Mr. Crane can corroborate everything I say, and if I can convince Gianna to go to the station with us, somebody will listen."
His fork scraped along the bottom of the cardboard container. "You know what happens to them if they talk."
"Then that leaves you," I said. "You can verify everything."
He took a bite and chewed.
"You'll back me up, right?" I repeated.
He stared into space. "I can see it now. Two teenagers walk into the station and report that they have inside information on one of the greatest conspiracy theories this country has ever seen."
I pushed the food away.
"I'm thinking realistically," he offered. "Listen, if you want me to go with you, I'll do it. I'm here for you."
I went to the couch and toppled onto it. "You're right. I'm going to need to give them something more. I'll have to go public with my ability, show the police what I can do. Then they'll listen." I pulled the blanket on the couch over my face. "I'm going to be a human freak show."
Jaxon sat next to me and massaged my shoulder. "You're one in a billion. A living legend."
I propped myself up on one elbow. "If you're trying to cheer me up, it's not working."
He pulled the blanket aside and squeezed next to me on the couch. He brushed a section of my hair behind my ear. "Then let's find something else to talk about."
Having him next to me eased some of the angst that bounced around my ribcage like a pinball. His body heat enveloped me, and I inhaled his scent of soap and mint. When he rested his chin against my forehead, the stubble raked my skin.
He traced my mouth with his finger.
"Don't. That tickles," I said.
He did it again, so I grabbed his knuckle between my teeth.
"No biting," he warned, but that smirk was back.
"You wanted to see my not-so-angelic side," I joked.
Laughing was one of two emotions that didn't bring out the ache of uncertainty. The other was affection. There was something about being afraid and hopeless that made me want to get closer to Jaxon, so close that I'd forget all the worry and confusion clattering in my head.
I closed my mouth over his and combed my fingers into his hair. His tongue darted along my lower lip, sending a flood of warmth through my belly. His kisses grew more urgent and strayed to my throat.
He moved his hand up my thigh to the button on my jeans, and I almost, almost backed away. But the world outside the apartment was messy and frightening. It demanded decisions that a girl my age should never have to make. I needed all of it to disappear, for a little while.
I kissed him harder.
With shaky hands, I began unbuttoning his shirt. A far-off voice inside my head asked Where are you going with this? I did not know.
Jaxon took my wrists and pushed me away from him. "Don't use your hands."
I squinted in confusion. "Um…"
"Use your telekinesis. I've seen how strong you are. Now show me precision."
Fascination vibrated off him. Not only was he accepting of my gift, he wanted to experience more. A rush of heat curled down my back. It was not lost on me that at that moment my gift was both the source of my fear and excitement.
Without touching him, I glided Jaxon's top button through the buttonhole. He let out a short breath. I undid the second button.
"Oh, man," he said.
I went for broke and telekinetically yanked the placket. Buttons flew, opening the rest of his shirt. He undid the top buttons on my blouse and kissed me in the notch below my throat. His lips made me shiver, or maybe it was having my blouse half off, or the racing thoughts about what would happen next.
A dark tone trilled from his pocket and I recognized his cell phone ring.
"Ignore that," he said. The call eventually went to voice mail.
We kissed some more. Dampness broke out on his neck. His eyes floated down my body. "Just looking at you makes me want all of you."
I recognized this as a question, as his way of asking permission to go further with me. He wanted to have sex.
Instinctively, my hand went to close my open blouse. I'd promised myself that I'd keep him at a distance to keep my heart from getting crushed; but now Jaxon was asking to get closer and somehow that felt right, too.
"I've never done this before," I said.
His eyebrows jerked. "You've never had sex?"
I shook my head tentatively.
"Wow." He pinned me with a gaze that made me squirm. "You're sure you’re ready?" He said this like he was expected to ask but didn’t really want to wait for the answer.
"I don't know. I think we should take this slow." I put my hand on his chest and kept it there as his mouth landed on mine.
His phone rang again.
"Maybe you should answer that." I was relieved for the interruption. My head was cloudy and my stomach fluttery. I definitely wasn't ready to get intimate with Jaxon. My life was a whirlwind of danger and while being close to him helped soothe my anxiety, anything beyond that was more than I could process.
Jaxon grabbed his phone and got to his feet. "Stop calling me," he said into the phone. He disappeared into his bedroom, but I could still hear his side of the conversation. "Not now, I’m busy. I already told you. I don't know yet. I'll call you when I do. I don't know. Don't bother me."
He came back without the phone. The energy coming off him was laser sharp and starved.
"What was that about? Is something wrong?" I asked.
"A friend of my brother's. He won't bother us again."
He kissed me with such force that all the passion fell away. His touch felt more like a grappling match—no tenderness and all power play—like he was trying to determine who was the fiercest at making out.
I peeled my lips away. "Take it easy," I said.
"Sorry."
I'd had about enough and was about to tell him so, but then he lifted my hair and kissed my neck at the base of my hairline. I melted. I drifted. I was whisked a hundred and sixty years in the future with the guy of my dreams. There was only one other person who had ever kissed me there.
"Connor," I whispered.
Jaxon's teeth clamped down on my neck.
"Ow!"
"The na
me is Jaxon."
He didn’t give me a chance to apologize, but strung his fingers into my hair. His fist was so tight my roots ached.
"Jaxon, you're hurting me."
"You're not his anymore," he said.
My eyes got big. Is that what this was about? Getting me into bed because I was once Connor's girlfriend?
"I'm not anybody's. I'm not property. I want to stop. Now." Everything was wrong-wrong-wrong. The place, the guy, the way this was happening. When I closed my eyes, all I could see was Connor.
Jaxon reached for the zipper on my jeans.
"Everything will be fine. You'll like it. You'll see." His hand clung to my hair like a leash.
"I don't want to do this. Let go of my hair," I barked.
He needed both hands to untangle his fingers. Loose strands clung to the sweat on his palms. "You said you wanted this. Where did you think this was going?" He stole a glance at the clock over the dead television.
"No, I said I didn't know." I stood up and buttoned my blouse. "I want to go home."
Sweat beaded on his forehead. His breath steamed against my cheek. He was struggling to come up with the right words to keep me there.
"Please don't go. I'll back off, okay? I'm the only one who understands what you've been through. No one else cares about you like I do."
I was no expert on guys, but this sounded fake. His hands found my shoulders, then ran down the backs of my arms, past my elbows to my wrists, where his fingers encircled me like handcuffs. "You do like me, don't you?"
"Right now, I just need a friend. Can't we…what are you doing?"
He pushed me backward, forcing me to shuffle in step with him until the backs of my legs bumped against the couch. I fell to a seated position. He pushed me onto the cushions and lay on top of me.
"Jaxon, get off me."
He took both my wrists in one hand and held them over my head, pinning me against the cushions. He nestled his free hand onto the waistband of my jeans and tried to unzip them again.
"Stop it!" I tried to roll away, but he was heavy.
"Hold still." His voice rasped and his eyes had gone murky. He'd turned into someone I did not recognize. He was focused on getting sex whether I agreed to it or not.
"Please don't." Tears welled in the corners of my eyes. Why was he doing this? He was supposed to be my friend.