Watermark (The Emerald Series Book 3)

by James, Kimberly

  "You've talked to Dad this morning?" I asked.

  "He called to check on you." She took a sip of her hot tea as she continued to watch me. He'd called me too, but our conversation had been short and to the point.

  "You can see him today," he'd said without the slightest preamble when I'd answered the phone I'd clutched in my hand all night, fielding Noah's ever growing list of complaints. Like me, his frustration and worry had kept him awake. And like we'd always done when it involved Jamie, we'd turned to each other, exchanging texts until early in the morning.

  "I'll pick you up in an hour," my dad had said.

  "Thank you," I'd breathed into the phone and sat on my bed shaking until my mom had come in to ask me if I wanted breakfast. That had been forty-three minutes ago.

  "Did he say much? Anything about Jamie?"

  "No, honey, but he's not likely to," she said, a decided heaviness in her tone.

  My mom had never understood my dad's interest in all things waterbreather. Mine either for that matter. I'd heard her more than once call him borderline obsessive about their culture and people. She'd never appreciated his relationship with the Jacobs, and now I wondered if it were because of his obvious tenderness for Mrs. Jacobs. I'd never believed my dad had been unfaithful to my mom, that wasn't the kind of man he was, but there was some kind of history between Mrs. Jacobs and my dad that I wasn't privy to. And me getting pregnant so young hadn't helped. Though Mrs. Jacobs had always been outwardly supportive, I knew inwardly her disappointment ran deep.

  "There he is now," my mom said.

  My dad's work car, a dark sedan with heavily tinted windows, claimed a recently vacated parking spot. I sprang from my seat, my mind and body eager.

  "I'll get the dishes. You go,” she said when I made to pick up my plate. Her arms circled my neck. "Call me later and let me know how he is."

  "I will."

  "Erin?" she called before I reached the door.

  "Yeah?"

  "I'm proud of you. The way you've pulled yourself together the last year. It's remarkable the young woman you've become after what you endured. Don't forget that."

  "Thanks, Mom." I hurried over and hugged her. "I love you. Thanks for letting me crash here last night."

  "I love you too, sweetie. You know you have choices, right?"

  I wasn't sure what she was trying to say, so I offered her a wobbly smile and opened the door.

  I didn't have a choice right now.

  17

  The air was unusually still when I got out of the car, heavy under a cloudless blue sky. Heat shimmered off the black asphalt of the parking lot of the Facility, sucking the sweat right out of my pores. The Gulf gleamed under the mid-morning sun, a flat, smooth surface of aqua-marine beyond the blanket of white sand.

  My dad swiped his entry card over a control panel by the door and a green light flashed, granting us entry. It was cold inside the Facility and I pulled the sweater I’d brought over my arms. It was a relief to feel the bite of cold. I’d wondered if I were capable of feeling anything at all. Maybe it would reinforce the iceberg that sat in place of my heart.

  "How is he? Have you seen him today?" I asked, wary now under the weight of my dad's tired stare.

  "He’s fine. And yes, I've seen him," he said, infuriatingly vague.

  "Well?" I prompted.

  "Are you sure you don't want me to go in with you?" He slanted his eyes at me, his brow deeply creased. He looked like he hadn’t slept either.

  "You promised." I'd made him promise once again that I could do this on my own. My knees felt weak and what little breakfast I'd eaten rolled in my stomach. I'd never been so anxious in my life.

  We traversed down one stark hallway after another, the echoes of our footfalls filling my ears, a desolate, hollow sound. I hadn't expected the cavernous feel as the building appeared much smaller from the outside. The walk seemed endless before we stopped at a set of double doors at the end of a corridor. My dad held his card over the little swipe box with a blinking red light.

  Jamie was on the other side of this door, and after nearly twenty-four agonizing hours of wondering and worrying, I was seconds away from being face to face with him. Someone I’d thought lost to me forever.

  The door emitted a shrill beep and popped open on a release of air. I stepped inside and the door shut behind me with an ominous click.

  I stood in a twelve-by-six box that was nothing more than an observation deck for the clear cage in front of me—a square barren space with only one solid concrete block wall in the back. Moisture hung in the air. The floor was slick with it, the air thick like being under a dome in an enclosed pool.

  Grates were cut into the concrete floor for drainage. What looked like an oversized faucet protruded from the wall. Not a single chair. No bed. Just a hard, empty space.

  It wasn't completely empty. Jamie was inside. Seeing him, that icy ache in my heart turned to a throb.

  Jamie’s back was to me and his hands were splayed on the wall above his head as if he wore invisible chains. But then he didn’t have hands anymore. His fingers were completely webbed, fanning over the concrete, horrifying and beautiful at the same time. I shivered at the memory of them wrapped around my arms. His stance emphasized the width of his back, legs spread wide. Thick muscle bunched under his blue-green skin. Noah had come back from his stint in the Deep too thin, almost malnourished. The Deep seemed to have had the opposite affect on Jamie. Invincible was how I would describe him. I wondered if the acrylic or whatever his cage was made of was strong enough to keep him contained.

  They had given him a pair of pants—army fatigues that fit snug on his thighs and were inches too short. Better than the battered pair of shorts he’d been wearing, which had been like wearing nothing at all. His hair was still a mass of tangles, though it appeared someone had tried to tame it, tying it back with an elastic band.

  Jamie lifted his head from between his arms, giving me his profile. I knew the instant he sensed my presence. His whole body tightened as though an invisible string had been pulled. Nostrils flared, he turned, letting his fin-like hands scale down the wall, slow and measured. His back straightened farther when his eyes settled on me and his massive chest expanded. He appeared much taller than I remembered. But then, so many things were different from what I remembered.

  His eyes were darker under the bright florescent lights, resembling the lush green of a dense forest devoid of sunlight. I could almost fool myself that maybe there’d been a mistake, that it wasn’t him. The thought brought a mixture of hope and despair.

  His steps were slow but sure. His eyes never left my face as he approached the clear wall that separated us. It took a conscious effort on my part to hold my ground. He didn’t stop until he was nearly pressed against the acrylic and his chest filled my vision. My nose, if I were ever that close to him again, would fit right in the shallow ridge between the broad, rounded planes of his pectoral muscles.

  I examined his skin, learning its texture. What was once perfectly smooth was now embossed, almost systematically scarred skin. Since the first time I’d seen him, I’d been drawn to his strength. He'd always been mysterious and exciting. He'd been different from me and I’d been enamored with those differences. But now he was more than different. No one looking at him would call him human. He wasn’t like Noah or Jeb or Caris anymore. I didn’t know what he was. In the end, to my shame, I took a tiny step back.

  My eyes lifted to meet his and they anchored on me, searching so intently. All those thoughts and doubts I'd been too afraid to acknowledge during the night fell away until I wanted nothing more than to simply look at him forever.

  You have choices.

  The foolish girl of an hour ago who thought she'd moved on had believed my mom's words. But the me of now didn't have any choices. I never did where Jamie was concerned. The iceberg that rested in the place of my heart was melting. I knew because it was leaking out my eyes.

  “Jamie.” My voice was littl
e more than a whisper, but his eyes closed in response and the tension in his body visibly released, the slow easing of some unseen pressure. I placed my hand against the wall desperate to touch him. As though he sensed my need, his eyes opened. He placed his hand to the clear wall, making it a mirror to my own.

  “Erin.” The barrier made his voice sound like it was coming from a hollow drum. That voice I’d heard only in my dreams for nearly two years. And I supposed anyone else might not even understand he'd said my name. But I heard it in the drawn out half-formed syllables, clear and concise.

  “Jamie.” The tears were coming in earnest now. The warmth of his hand penetrated the barrier, traveling up my arm into my chest. Good, so good.

  The buzzer startled me and Jamie’s eyes flashed with impatience. In a sudden gush, water poured out of the faucet in the wall behind Jamie’s head. It splashed against the acrylic and in a matter of seconds it covered the floor. The door clicked open behind me. Jamie’s eyes shifted over my head, his hands bunched into fists and he pounded once then twice on his cage.

  “Erin!” He sounded frenzied, the desperation I heard in my name a disparity of the strength that was him.

  “Let him out,” I said when my dad’s hands fell on my shoulders, pulling me away.

  “Come on, Erin. It’s time to go.” Go? I just got here.

  “No.” I struggled, which only inspired Jamie to pound harder, and his mouth opened on an anguished roar. Rage changed his face into something unrecognizable. The whole structure shook with his violent pounding.

  “He’s getting agitated," my dad said, still trying to pull me away.

  “You think?” I jerked free from his grasping hands. “Why are you doing this to him?”

  “It’s for his own safety, Erin. And yours.”

  “He would never hurt me, even like this.” My voice lost all its will. “He’s still my husband.”

  “Look at him, Erin.” My dad heaved a sigh devoid of hope.

  Through watery vision I saw him as my dad did, as anyone else would see him. Something no longer human. Something unnatural. Something to be feared. Something to be caged.

  “I’m not leaving you,” I told Jamie. I put my hand back on the wall right by his fist. Relief flooded his eyes and his pinched features grew slack.

  “Erin…” His attempt to say my name broke my heart. Too may r’s in the sound, the n’s almost non-existent. It was the sweetest sound I’d heard in so long because it was his voice I heard even if it was a pitch lower. It was Jamie's lips those r’s rolled off of awkwardly.

  “Please, Dad, leave us alone.” Once again, like that night we’d told my dad we were together, I sided with Jamie. It was me and Jamie against the world. And not even my dad could drag me away. Jamie needed me.

  Jamie made another attempt to say my name. No matter what he had become, my heart swelled, thick and tight, almost painful.

  “I’m not leaving. He needs me,” I said, never taking my eyes off Jamie as the water built around him, making the whole room feel heavy.

  “You have an hour," my dad said. "It’s all they’re going to give you.”

  18

  Jamie hated his cage. Everything was hard. The wall. The floor. Breathing.

  He'd wanted this. He'd simply underestimated how difficult it would be. His body rejected this place. His muscles strained against his skin and he felt as though he was on the verge of exploding. The sound of it roared in his ears, echoing in his mind, a long forgotten sound filled with heat and sudden pain.

  Slowly he was remembering.

  He remembered the morning he left. Some of it at least. He remembered an explosion. The pain of being ripped apart. He should have been dead, but somehow he wasn't. Somehow he'd drowned in the euphoric relief of the Deep as she'd put him back together. He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't think about the Deep now. If he did, he'd never have the will to stay in this unforgiving place. The four-inch acrylic wouldn't hold him, he was sure of that.

  Erin had come. That's all that mattered. She'd come and he'd pressed his hand to hers through the barrier and she'd told him his name.

  Jamie.

  He heard his name again in her voice and the raging part of him that screamed for escape quieted.

  If he stayed she would come again.

  The door on the other side of his cage opened and Marshall walked in and like every other time a piece of his former life confronted him, his mind slivered open and showed him something else of what was before.

  Jamie had trusted Marshall. He still did. He'd been on an errand for Marshall when his world exploded and his life of before ended. There wasn't supposed to have been any real danger involved and now here he was a… Jamie couldn't even put a name to what he was.

  A list. He remembered a list. He'd held it in his hand. He'd read the names on it. His heart had nearly stopped. And that's where his memory of that morning stopped. What had he seen? What had he read? Something told Jamie it hardly mattered anymore. He had no way to know. No way to be sure, but he got the impression a lot of time had passed. Too much.

  Probably the reason Marshall looked at him the way he did. Why he was reluctant to let Erin see him. Jamie had sensed Marshall's wariness as though he wasn't sure what to make of him. And his temper flare when Jamie thought he was going to make Erin leave hadn't helped.

  "Got a couple of more people anxious to see you. You up for more visitors?" Marshall asked as he approached the cage that held him.

  "Yes."

  At least that’s what Jamie thought he'd said. What he'd meant to say, but the look on Marshall's face told Jamie he'd failed at relaying that one simple syllable.

  "I'll be right back," Marshall said.

  Jamie hated the sympathy brimming in Marshall's eyes, as though he pitied him. It goaded the monstrous side of him, the side he was desperately trying to tame. This cage had been his only choice. The only way to keep himself from the water. The water was what made him what he was now. If he could stay away, he could go back to being the man he was before. At least he hoped so.

  Jamie’s ears picked up on the voices beyond the door.

  “I don’t have to tell you not to do anything to upset him. He’s easily agitated and volatile.” Marshall again. Jamie couldn't quite follow the words but he understood the warning in his tone.

  “Open the door.”

  His brother's voice. Jamie's mouth twitched at the defiance and he swayed under a wave of longing. The door beeped and released on a pop of air that resonated in the popping of Jamie's ears. This building was full of beeps and sounds and Jamie heard every one of them. Even those he suspected he shouldn't. It had been hard to contain his reaction to all the noises when he'd woken up strapped to a metal bed. Scanners and so many voices. It had been a relief when they put him in his cage, as cold and hard as it was. The cage was better. At least it was quiet.

  His mom walked in first and when their eyes collided, Jamie felt the jolt of the impact straight to his heart. His nose filled with her scent and the scent of his brother, and a tide of emotion hit him so hard his vision dimmed.

  His mom paused and her breath hitched. Her eyes, so like his own, took him in with slow deliberateness. As if deciding it really was him, she rushed forward and pressed her hands on the barrier.

  "Jamie," she breathed and her shoulders shook with quiet emotion. He savored the sound of his name. Every time he heard it, more of his mind returned to him.

  “Mom.” His lips struggled to form the name, sticking on the m, and even to his own ears the o sounded more like a w. Her smile wobbled and then her face crumbled as she broke down completely.

  He wondered again how long he'd been gone. How many days had passed. Jamie's nose pricked to the scent of the tears coursing down her face. His first instinct was alarm but he recognized the tears as happy like Erin's had been. Noah came up behind her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and Jamie looked into his brother's face, his heart thudding so hard he thought it might burst ou
t of his chest.

  “Noah.” He didn't get his brother's name right either, the sound lingering forever on his tongue. Jamie's gaze tracked between them and it was like looking at the sun for the first time. He'd missed these faces. These faces meant something to him. He'd been longing for this day and he hadn't even realized it. Jamie's lips tilted. A smile. He couldn't remember the last time he smiled. His mom choked on a half-sob, half-laugh—a happy sound. That's what this feeling was clogging his chest. Happiness. Overwhelming joy.

  He knew his name. His family was here.

  “Son of a bitch. We thought you were dead," his brother said, eyes swimming with moisture.

  Dead. He should be. For some reason the Deep had chosen to save him. Noah's mouth continued to move and Jamie concentrated on the sounds, but his lips moved too fast. Jamie's cursed mind couldn't keep up. The sounds fell on Jamie's ears, half of them without meaning, but he listened anyway.

  “Never mind," Noah said, slowing the cadence of his speech, as if he sensed Jamie's difficulty. "You do whatever it is you need to do in here and then we’ll talk.”

  His mom and brother stayed, though there was little they could communicate with the barrier between them. Minutes passed and with each one Jamie had to fight harder to keep his mind focused. He'd been too long without water. It was a constant craving that threatened to overwhelm him. His muscles quivered and his stomach knotted. Sweat trickled down his face. His family watched as his body betrayed him. Noah's mouth held in a tight line of anger. His mom on the verge of breaking down again.

  At one point, Noah put his hand on the barrier, muscles flexing, testing its strength. He watched as his brother scanned the corners of the small space, eyes pausing on the cameras in each one. Their eyes met and Jamie shook his head as understanding passed between them. Yes, he could break out and his body wanted to. But the barrier offered enough resistance that Jamie could think with his mind and not cave to his body's demands. He reminded himself again this was what he wanted—a cage. Didn't make staying in it any easier, though.