At First Touch

by Dunman, Mattie

He glanced up at the mirror again. “Hmm. You may be right. He looks kind of familiar. How did you notice that? I never would have.”

  I shrugged. “I have to,” I said simply. There wasn’t any other explanation.

  We rode the rest of the way in silence, both of us nervously watching the car in the mirror, which stayed two lengths behind us the entire way. Carey really started to get nervous when the car pulled into my development and then idled two houses down from mine.

  “I don’t know if you should get out, Liz,” he muttered worriedly, eyes fixed on the car. “I’m pretty sure it’s that agent from the FBI, Carson. Why would he be following you?”

  A chill ran up my spine. “For no good reason,” I said, biting my lower lip.

  “Maybe I should stay over tonight,” Carey said slowly. I looked at him in astonishment.

  “Why?”

  “Well, I could just stay on the couch and keep an eye on things. I mean, if anyone tried to get in, I would hear them before they could get to you or your Dad,” he explained. A surge of happiness pushed through me at the concern in his voice; he really cared about what happened to me and my Dad.

  “I don’t know, it’s probably not necessary. But still, let’s talk to Dad and see what he thinks.”

  We got out of the car, Carey keeping an eye on the darkened vehicle down the road, and we hurried in, locking the door behind.

  Dad was watching TV on the couch when we came in and looked up with a tolerant smile until he saw our faces. “What? What’s happened?”

  I explained about Agent Carson and Dad’s expression darkened. “He must know something about you. Maybe he’s aware of your file, or he could even be connected to the Coalition.” He sighed and stood up, fixing me with a sympathetic look. “Sweetheart, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think we’re going to have to leave.” Next to me I felt Carey stiffen with shock. “I know that you hoped we could make Pound a more permanent home, but there’s just too much attention on us here. It’s not safe. I’m sorry. Maybe you can keep in contact with Carey when things become safe again.”

  Disappointment rolled in waves over me, but deep down I knew Dad was right. We had gambled and lost; it was no longer safe for us in Pound, and my presence could endanger Carey’s secret if I were being watched so carefully. The last thing I wanted was for the Coalition to find out about him. I didn’t know what Carson’s purpose was, but it was obvious that this went far beyond a normal investigation. With a sigh I nodded and tried to keep my voice even.

  “You’re right. We never would have stayed this long if I hadn’t pushed it. It’s too dangerous,” I admitted, defeat clear in my voice.

  “What? No! You can’t leave,” Carey protested vehemently, gripping my shoulders tightly enough to hurt. “This is crazy, you have to stay. I’ll figure something out to make him leave; we can fix this!” My chest hurt as I listened to Carey; I didn’t want to go, I really didn’t want to leave him, but there was nothing left to do.

  I turned back to Dad. “We’ll have to wait a day or two. I’ll send out for our new identities tomorrow and tell Jax to put a rush on it. It’d be best if we left during the middle of a school day. He’s less likely to be watching me then.” Dad nodded agreement and sighed. I knew he had entertained hopes of making a real home as well; he was hurting too.

  “Carey, I’m sorry. When it’s safe again I’ll be able to contact you as long as we’re really careful. Maybe we can even see each other sometimes,” I offered, though I couldn’t really put any heart into it. It would be better for both of us if we just broke all contact, but I couldn’t bring myself to say that to him.

  He just stood there shaking his head. “No, you’re not leaving. I’ll figure something out. Why can’t you just wipe his memories of you, like you did with Fitz?” he asked desperately.

  “I’m still not really sure how I did that in the first place, or how long it will last. And just look at all the trouble it brought. It’s too dangerous,” I said, not without regret. It would be so much easier if I knew what I was doing and could just eliminate any incriminating memories of me that Carson had, but I knew there was no way I could just isolate the important ones and leave the rest, which would be the best solution. I simply didn’t know how.

  We argued for a while longer, never coming to any real consensus. Around midnight I gave up and said I had to go to bed; Carey insisted he was going to stay on our couch to make sure we were safe. After another pointless back and forth with him, Dad finally threw his hands in the air and told me I could take care of him. It seemed like their tentative friendship was losing its momentum.

  Eventually Carey settled on the couch with a blanket and a pillow; he barely spoke to me and I was convinced he was really angry until he grabbed my arm and pulled me down next to him.

  “Liz, I’m sorry. I’ve been really difficult tonight, haven’t I?” he said, voice soft. I relaxed a little and curled up next to him on the couch.

  “Maybe a little. But I understand. You’ve only just gotten to know someone else with an ability, just gotten to be honest about yours for the first time. You’re disappointed,” I replied, trying to shrug it off.

  He gave me an incredulous look. “That’s what you think I’m upset about? No, no that’s not it. I mean, yes, it was exciting to find out there was someone else like me and I can be myself with you like I’ve never been able to with anyone else, but I’m upset because I’m crazy about you, and I don’t want to lose you!”

  I just sat staring at him for a moment, unable to process what he had said. It had never really occurred to me that Carey cared about me that much; I mean, I knew he cared, and I knew he was attracted to me and everything, but not to this extent, where tears were blurring the brilliant blue of his eyes.

  He took my silence for disbelief and gripped my hands, pleading with his eyes. “Listen to me, really listen, Liz. I don’t want to lose you.”

  I opened our connection and his mind poured into mine bracingly, making me feel like I’d been dunked in the middle of swiftly moving water. It took me a moment to sort out the confusion, but finally I was able to grasp that Carey’s whole focus was on how much he cared about me; he was even wondering if he might be in love with me. His feelings were intense, and swiftly became overwhelming. I was left in no doubt that his distress at me leaving was more than disappointment over losing a fellow weirdo.

  I broke the connection and moved away a little bit. I was confused by Carey’s feelings, in more ways than one. I was surprised by his fervor and a little afraid. My life since the accident had been a series of towns and cities, nameless faces that blended into one great mass of unfriendly humanity, never trusting, never even giving myself a moment to think of connecting with someone, much less falling in love. I had known that Carey felt strongly about me, but I had never really believed it was more than a mutual attraction and a fascination for someone who was different like he was. I had also had doubts about how much his infatuation had to do with my sparkling personality and how much it had to do with my dilemma.

  But now, I was able to see clearly what I hadn’t before: Carey cared deeply about me, more than he had for anyone before, and I had no idea what I felt about him.

  “Liz, what are you thinking? I can’t read your mind. You have to be honest with me,” he said gently. I sighed, knowing he was right.

  “I’m thinking I don’t want to go. I like it here, I have friends here, a life. I have you.” My throat seemed to swell, making it hard to speak. After a few beats, I swallowed and went on, voice shaking. “But I don’t know what else to do. You don’t understand; before we came here, the incident with Fitz would have been enough to make us pack up and leave, not to mention the police and FBI agents trolling around, wearing Nixon masks.” I shook my head and smiled dismally. “This thing with Carson, it’s inevitable. What I feel about it doesn’t matter.”

  Carey tried to say something else but I just dropped a kiss on his open lips, unable to bear conversation
any longer. He seized me suddenly, his unassailable strength breaking off any protest I might have had, and all my thoughts went out the window as he returned my kiss.

  We’d kissed before, but never with this passion, this ferocity. There was an element of desperation, as though Carey were trying to convince me what we had was worth fighting for. By the time he released me, I was convinced.

  More confused than ever, I bid Carey goodnight, struggling to with all the roiling emotions and frantic, half-cocked plans bubbling around in my brain. When I finally lay in bed, my eyes were wide open glaring at the ceiling, one major thought prominent in my mind. Did I love Carey? Was the weak-kneed trembling I felt when he smiled love? Or the half-terrified, half-hungry sensation when he touched me, was that love?

  I wasn’t sure. In the past four years I had downloaded so many people, some of whom had believed themselves to be in love. I could remember their feelings, the sheer volume of their thoughts about the objects of their affection, but I still didn’t know what being in love felt like, and while tonight’s kiss with Carey had been unsettling in a number of ways, I wasn’t any closer to an answer.

  The last conscious thought I had was whether I could love, or if my mind and heart belonged to too many others to ever be given away.

  Chapter 16

  Carey refused to go home all the next day, claiming he had a change of clothes in his car. Of course, I knew he simply did one of his quick little trips home to shower and change when he pretended to get stuff out of his trunk. He was back in less than two minutes. Sometimes I was tempted to ask him to make a run to Tony’s Pizzeria in Chicago for my favorite deep dish, but I managed to keep the urge to myself.

  Dad and Carey walked on eggshells around each other, being extra polite and never meeting each others’ eyes. I had spoken to Dad in the morning just after Carey had refused to leave and asked him not to make a big deal out of it. He finally agreed, acknowledging that since I’d probably never see Carey again, we could have what time was left together. He did put his foot down on me attending the Halloween party that night, claiming that it was simply too dangerous and not worth the risk. I wasn’t so sure; after all, it was probably the last opportunity I’d ever get to act like a normal teenager.

  “I guess I can see that,” Carey said when I told him about the party. “There will be too many people there for safety, at least, from his point of view. Of course, I could take care of you.”

  “I know you could, but it might put you in danger as well. You don’t seem to understand. Carson is interested in me at the moment, but if he saw you doing any of the things you can do, you’d be snatched up in a second.” I put my hand up as he tried to protest. “Trust me Carey, you don’t want to find out what that would be like.”

  He was quiet for a bit, and I was glad that he took my warning seriously. He had a tendency to assume he was invincible. Finally he just shook his head and changed the subject. “What about V.J.? Are you going to get to say goodbye to her?”

  I was surprised at the tightening I felt in my throat at the thought of V.J. She was the only real friend I’d ever had, or at least started to have. “I don’t know; I’m not sure how to without raising suspicion. Maybe I can leave a letter behind for you to give her,” I suggested.

  Carey just nodded absently, his mind clearly elsewhere. I sighed as I took a peek in his thoughts; he was outwardly acting as though he had accepted my imminent departure, but his mind was full of ideas for how to keep me in Pound. Closing the connection, I just shook my head and left it. There was no point in trying to convince him that I was doing the best thing for both of us.

  It was, therefore, a rather volatile environment that Agent Thrasher walked into that morning. The knock on the door sent all of us through the roof, though I swiftly recovered when I recognized Thrasher’s thoughts, “Man, how many times am I going to knock on this door and have no one answer?”

  Keeping the connection open until I could determine his intentions, I let Thrasher in. He pulled his obligatory sunglasses off as he entered the darkened hallway and looked down at me, his long face serious and hard to read. As I listened to his thoughts I couldn’t repress a smile; he was trying so hard not to think of anything important that little snippets kept popping up, alerting me to his state of mind.

  “Carson is off the grid? That can’t be good,” I said nonchalantly, taking a perverse pleasure in watching Thrasher open and close his mouth in an attempt to protest. Finally he just gave me his best G-man glare and I put up my hands playfully. “Don’t shoot, officer!”

  The agent looked angry first and then just puzzled. “You’re mocking me?” he asked, incredulous.

  I grinned. “Just a little.”

  He cocked a deliberate eyebrow and fixed an icy stare on me. His lips twitched. “You think it’s wise to mock an FBI agent who knows all your secrets?”

  My smile widened. “Only when that FBI agent is completely on my side, and has a burning desire to see the dirty agent hunting me behind bars,” I replied, voice thick with amusement.

  He finally relaxed with a boyish smile that contradicted his tough-guy persona. “Am I that easy to read?”

  “Thoughts don’t lie, Agent Thrasher,” I said, losing a little of my humor. There were times when I could do without the unrelenting honesty of people’s thoughts.

  Thrasher’s expression darkened and he studied me thoughtfully. “Life must be very difficult for you,” he observed. I just shrugged and headed back to the living room, gesturing for the agent to follow, knowing he would.

  Dad and Carey were sitting glumly on the couch, watching the doorway with identical expressions of unease. “Agent Thrasher’s here,” I announced unnecessarily, since the man in question was standing next to me. Dad stood up and shook Thrasher’s hand, then rubbed both hands on his jeans uncomfortably. I knew how he felt; it seemed so wrong to willingly invite the FBI into our home. Carey nodded at him warily and Thrasher gave me a questioning look.

  “Carey knows the truth about me,” I said shortly and he nodded, eyeing Carey with significant interest. I felt a pang of concern until he spoke.

  “You must be an extraordinary young man for her to have trusted you,” he said unexpectedly. “What’s your take on the situation?”

  Carey glanced at me for confirmation and I waved my hand at him to say it was ok. “Well, uh, sir, I want to do whatever I can to make it possible for Liz and her Dad to stay here in Pound.” He paused and focused his drowning blue eyes on me with fervor. “Whatever it takes.”

  Despite the tense atmosphere I smiled warmly at Carey. His features were sharpened by the morning light striking through the slits in the curtains, highlighting his curved, full lips and the deep set of his eyes. A shiver that had nothing to do with the FBI agent standing next to me ran down my spine as I met Carey’s eyes. His gaze was like a physical touch and I felt stronger for it and trembling at the same time.

  I tore my eyes away from him finally when I realized the silence in the room had stretched to a breaking point.

  “So you’re thinking of leaving?” Thrasher asked blandly, his face a blank mask hiding the turmoil of his thoughts. To sum things up, he disapproved.

  “Yes, of course we are,” Dad snapped, his usual iron control near the edge. “Carson has been stalking her. Again last night. It’s obvious he knows something, and given your suspicions about him, I don’t think it’s safe for us here anymore.”

  Carey stared at the floor, balling up his fists and clenching his jaw. I repressed an urge to laugh, cry, and scream all at the same time.

  “I can understand your concern, but I disagree.” Thrasher took a seat in the worn armchair and leaned his elbows on his knees. I took my place between Carey and Dad on the couch, leaning back with exhaustion. Dad and Carey simultaneously tried to put their arms around me, shifting awkwardly when their hands touched behind my neck. After a silent tussle that Thrasher watched with obvious amusement, Carey won out and pulled me close


  “It’s really not your decision, Agent Thrasher,” Dad retorted, radiating anxiety. I knew it was driving him crazy that we were even talking about another option than just running away.

  Thrasher kept his voice cool and expressionless. “I realize that, Mr. Hannigan, but I think you both know that this has gone past the point where you can just pack up and leave with no consequences.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you really think Carson will let up long enough for you to sneak away?

  Dad was quiet for a moment and then turned to me, eyebrows raised. I shrugged. “He’s got a point, Dad. We may have to wait a little longer, give him a chance to back off or lose interest.”

  He shook his head violently and turned an angry glare on me. “Liz, you’re not thinking straight. We don’t know what his plan is! If he’s working for the secret department of the FBI, he could just be waiting for some backup before grabbing you. Or maybe…” he said quietly, a desperate plea in his eyes. “Maybe he’s attached to the Coalition. We know they want you back, but…there’s also the chance that you’re more dangerous to them alive.”

  We all sat in silence for a moment. I couldn’t really argue with Dad’s logic; however much I wanted to believe that Carson was working alone, it was hard to accept that he had known what I was all this time and not told anyone.

  “Pardon me for disagreeing again, but I don’t think that’s likely,” Thrasher piped up, shaking me out of my grim musings.

  “What do you mean?” Carey asked eagerly, ready to hear about anything that might provide a different option.

  “Well, I’ve learned a few things since last night; things I put together with earlier suspicions I’ve had, and I’m pretty sure Carson isn’t with this secret department you’re talking about. At least not anymore, if he ever was. He’s been under investigation from Internal Affairs for over a year since his partner’s death. There’s no way a security risk like that would be acceptable in an undercover department. Trust me on that. And if he’s an agent of this Coalition, I don’t think he would have given you up just yet.” He gave me a steady, reassuring look. “I’m quite certain they would want you alive; your…talent is far too valuable to waste,” he said apologetically.