Keep You From Harm

by Debra Doxer

  “You didn’t give it to Alec. You gave it yourself!” He hollers so loudly it makes me cringe. Dropping my arm again, he turns away and rakes both his hands through his hair.

  I pull on my jeans and curl my legs under me, waiting for his fury to pass.

  “Why?” he finally asks. Then he drops down to his knees before me. “Why would you do this?”

  “I didn’t knowingly do it,” I reply, staring down at my hands rather than at him. “Once it was inside me, I couldn’t get it out.”

  He grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me, forcing me to look at him. “Tell me what you mean. Don’t make me drag this out of you.”

  I blow out a shaky breath. I never wanted him to know. I never wanted to see that anguished look back in his eyes. It’s the same look I took away when I helped his mother. The last thing I wanted was to be the cause of its return.

  “If I’d thought about it more clearly,” I begin hesitantly, “I could have predicted this might happen. I didn’t actually think I could give it to myself. I’d seen my mother try, and it didn’t work. But what was missing when she attempted it was the family connection. That wasn’t missing this time. Once I’d taken Penelope’s disease into me, I couldn’t push it out again. It wouldn’t leave my body.”

  He’s staring at me. His eyes are wide, and I can’t tell what’s going on behind them. “This is so fucked up!” he snaps at me. “You didn’t say a goddamned thing. You let everyone believe it worked.”

  “It did work.”

  His expression turns fierce. “Trading your life for your niece’s wasn’t the plan. I never would have encouraged you to do it if I’d known this was a possibility. You have to give it back to her.”

  My eyes widen at his suggestion, and I begin shaking my head. “No, Lucas, I can’t. I can’t cure myself. Besides, even if I could give it back to Penelope, I wouldn’t.”

  His jaw clenches so tightly I wonder why his teeth aren’t shattering. “We have to fix this. There has to be some way to get it out of you.”

  “I’m able to dissolve the tumors as they appear. They grow back, but so far, I can control them. Maybe it will be okay,” I tell him, hoping I’m right, but not really believing it.

  His eyes narrow in confusion. “Wait, you can control them, but not cure them? I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t either. I think it has something to do with the nature of this disease. These tumors, somehow they’re different. My energy works on them. But they come back, just like they did with Penelope.”

  “What if they get worse? What if they get so bad that you can’t control anymore?” he asks, voicing my own fears.

  I pull my legs into my chest and wrap my arms around them. I have no answer to his question. It’s a possibility. I can’t deny that.

  “We’re going back and telling Kyle,” he states, standing now, and buttoning his jeans.

  “What? No?” I quickly uncurl myself and stand up to face him. “Why would we do that?”

  He pulls his shirt over his head before turning back to me. “Because I want him and his wife to know what really happened. They can’t go around thinking everything’s sunshine and rainbows while you’re slowly dying right under their noses.”

  When he turns, I grab his arm and place myself in front of him. “You can’t do that. It’s not their fault. Don’t ruin this for them.”

  “Finish getting dressed,” he orders. Then he steps around me and starts back up the hill toward his truck.

  I yell at his retreating back. “If you tell them, I’ll never forgive you, Lucas!”

  My words stop him in his tracks. He stands there for a moment before turning and stomping back to me. “So what do you want to do? Bury your head in the sand? Keep quiet and act like everything is fine? Just hope for the fucking best?! If that’s your plan, it sucks ass.”

  I try not to let his anger get to me. He has a right to it. The fact is I have come up with something of a plan. It’s been building in the back of my mind since I got the envelope from UCLA. But I haven’t had time to really consider it, and if I follow through with it, I’ll be completely disregarding the warning my mother gave me in that strange dream I had.

  “That is my plan until graduation,” I say. “Then I want to go to Los Angeles and try to find my father. If he has this power, too, and if he’s as powerful as my grandmother said, maybe he can help me.”

  Lucas stares at me, and I can see the wheels turning in his head as this sinks in. Then he gives me a single nod. “That plan doesn’t suck ass. But your time frame does. We should go now. We shouldn’t wait.”

  We? His statement startles me. He wants to go with me, and I’m so surprised by that, a tremor of relief runs through me. But I’m still not leaving now. “I’m not running out on my high school career when I’m so close to graduating,” I inform him.

  He narrows his eyes. “Dead people don’t need high school diplomas,” he says in a tight voice.

  My mouth hangs open. I know he’s going for shock value to prove his point, but I can’t let it change my mind. “This is what I’m doing. I don’t want to argue about it.”

  “It’s three weeks. That’s too long to wait. You don’t know how long it’s going to take to find your father. You don’t know anything about him.”

  “But Alec might. I want to talk to him before the police pick him up.”

  He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay, fine. We’ll talk to him together.” He steps closer to me. His eyes are burning with hurt. “I’m furious at you for keeping this from me. Why didn’t you tell me? Were you trying to protect me again?”

  I’m feeling tired now, and the tumor in my back is making it hard to stand. I shrug my answer, wordlessly acknowledging my guilt.

  “Didn’t I tell you to cut that shit out?”

  I cross my arms over my breasts. I still haven’t put on my shirt, and it dawns on me for the first time that anyone could stumble upon us and see me. I can hardly believe how little I cared about that just a few minutes ago when he was touching me. Then his words sink in. “I’ve got news for you, Lucas. I might not always do everything you tell me to.”

  “No kidding,” he says. I watch as he pulls in a deep breath and his wrinkled forehead smoothes out. “You have to stop this, Ray. You have to start talking to me. I can’t stand that you still won’t talk to me.” He reaches out for me, and I go to him, wrapping my arms around his back, feeling like nothing can hurt me when he’s holding me close.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “I know,” he says quietly next to my ear.

  I’m not sure how long we stay this way, just holding each other, before he pulls back to look at me. “I don’t like waiting three weeks,” he says. “You realize that puts your deadline right around your birthday. We have to make sure you see your eighteenth birthday. I want you to consider taking it one day at a time. If things get worse, we’ll go earlier. No arguments.”

  With all that’s going on, I’ve hardly thought about my birthday. It makes me happy that he remembered. I nod my head because I’m too tired to argue. “About what happened tonight, what we almost did,” I say sleepily, feeling warm again just thinking about it. “Should we talk about it?”

  “What did we almost do?” he asks innocently.

  I laugh. “If you don’t know, that’s going to make it tough to get a rain check.”

  His hand cups my cheek, and his eyes narrow in on mine. “Believe me. I’m on it. You’ll get your rain check.” Then he lowers his lips to mine and our mouths open together, breathing each other in, melting into one another until I break away in pain when his hand inadvertently pushes against my spine.

  His eyes question mine before realization sharpens them. Glancing from me to his hand, he frowns, but he holds back the curses I know are on his tongue. “As much as I enjoy looking at you this way, we should get your shirt on,” he says. Then he picks up my tank top, hands it to me, and watches while I pull it over my he
ad. When he reaches down to button my jeans for me, I suck in a breath as his fingers brush my bare stomach. I wish more than anything that we hadn’t stopped. But as I watch Lucas, and see the deep furrow back in his brow, I know his thoughts are elsewhere.

  “Let’s talk to Alec now,” he says, glancing at his watch. “It’s still early.”

  “Now?” I just settled on this plan. I’m hardly ready to put it into motion.

  “We need to be prepared if this thing starts to hit you harder. Once the police pick Alec up, we might lose our only source of information.”

  I take in his determined tone and nod warily, figuring he’s probably right. “So what? We just drive over to his house and hope he’s there?”

  “Pretty much.” He takes my hand, and we climb the short hill together. “Let’s not tell Alec he isn’t dying though,” he says. “We’ll tell him you want to meet your father. That’s our only reason for being there as far as he’s concerned.”

  “Okay.” I’m clenching my jaw now. I need to start dissolving these tumors. Lucas pulls open the door for me, but I just stand there. My back feels like it’s on fire. I don’t think I can climb in.

  “Ray?”

  “Can you lift me inside?” I have to ask.

  His mouth is a tight line as he effortlessly picks me up and gently sets me down on the seat.

  “I need a few quiet minutes,” I say, hoping he’ll give them to me without starting the argument about leaving earlier again. When he nods and leans against the door to watch me, I close my eyes and try to relax. It takes less than five minutes to direct the energy around my body and shrink the tumors. When it’s done, I open my eyes and smile weakly at him. Then I reach my hand out for the door handle. His mood is unreadable as he reluctantly steps aside so I can pull the door closed.

  I’m glad Lucas remembers the way to Alec’s house because I certainly don’t. When we arrive, it looks much the same as it did the night we came for Alec’s birthday. I see his white sedan in the driveway, and I’m both apprehensive and relieved to find that he’s at home.

  “Ready?” Lucas asks.

  I look over at him and notice that the muscle in his jaw is a tight little ball. I realize the tremendous effort it took to remain silent when I couldn’t even climb up into his truck.

  “Ready,” I reply, with more enthusiasm than necessary, trying to show him that I really am okay now. But as Lucas steps out of the truck and comes around to get me, I don’t move. I don’t want to go in there and face Alec again. The thought of being near him makes my skin crawl.

  Lucas pulls open the passenger door and immediately appears worried as I continue to stare at the house without moving. I can tell he’s misunderstanding. He thinks I’m unable to move myself. His hand touches my arm. “Why don’t you wait here?” he suggests.

  I shake my head and force myself to get out. Lucas is on edge as he watches me slowly descend. Once I’m beside him, he takes my hand and gently presses it, like he’s trying to give me some of his strength. Then he leads the way up the walk.

  When Linda opens the door to us, her mouth forms a silent O of surprise.

  “Hi, Linda. We’d like to talk to Alec,” I say, determined to appear calm and strong while we’re here.

  “He’s in the study. Is he expecting you?”

  “No,” Lucas answers and begins to move forward when Linda doesn’t immediately invite us in.

  “Oh,” she laughs, putting a hand to her chest. “I’m sorry. Come in.” She stands aside so we can step into the large entryway.

  “Alec!” she calls down the hallway.

  From down the hall, his face pops out of a doorway before his entire body follows. “Raielle, this is a surprise,” he smiles widely. “Hello, Lucas.”

  “They say they want to talk to you,” Linda explains with obvious curiosity.

  Alec looks carefully at both of us. “Come into the study, kids. Linda, I don’t think we’ll be needing anything,” he tells her, subtly dismissing her. She seems like she wants to protest, but then thinks better of it, offering us a hesitant smile before retreating into the other room.

  Alec watches as we file past him into his study. But I don’t look at him. Instead, when I enter the room, I notice the large picture window that fills the opposite wall. Because of the darkness beyond it, I see only my transparent reflection hovering before me. It mesmerizes me, looking like an apparition, growing larger as I approach it, taunting me with my own wide and anxious eyes. I squeeze those eyes shut, making myself turn away from it. When I open them again, I focus on a glossy wood desk against another wall—on it are a monitor and keyboard. The monitor is set to a screen saver of Penelope laughing as she sits on a swing at a playground.

  “I still feel perfectly fine,” Alec comments as he motions us toward the couch beside his desk. He pulls over a chair and sits down across from us. “Maybe the disease is gone. Maybe you’re even better than you think.” Then he winks at me.

  “It’s not gone,” Lucas says.

  I swivel my head in his direction.

  “Raielle has it,” he states, and I can tell he’s seething. I’m stunned. I can’t believe he just told him this after we agreed not to.

  Alec stares at me. “What?”

  “Something went wrong. How lucky for you.” Lucas’s eyes are shooting darts at Alec.

  Alec’s gaze is still on my face. “You mean I’m not going to get sick? I’m going to be all right?”

  My loathing for him twists inside me. Its takes all my self-control to swallow my rage and nod reluctantly, confirming the hope that brightens his face. When he begins to smile, Lucas is up like a shot.

  I push myself up, too, and grab Lucas’s arm as Alec stands in reaction to us. Lucas looks like he’s ready to pummel him. “That’s not why we’re here,” I say, trying to calm him.

  With his eyes still on Alec, he clenches his jaw.

  “We’re here for information,” I say to Alec. He turns quizzical eyes on me. “I want to find my father. I need you to tell us everything you know about him.”

  His eyebrows arch up. “Your father?” Then his expression fills with understanding. “I see. You’re hoping he can help you.” He absently runs his hands over his face, and I can see the relief that washes over him as our news slowly sinks in.

  When he gives us his attention again, his eyes are red with suppressed emotion. “I’m happy to tell you what I know, but it isn’t much,” he begins. “His name is Rainard Blackwood and back then he was a businessman from Los Angeles. He owned a small trade publishing company, I think. I don’t remember what they published.” Alec notes my surprise at his name. “Yes, you were probably named after him.”

  But that isn’t all that surprises me. “She took his last name,” I say, completely astonished. “I really do have my father’s last name.”

  “You didn’t know?” Alec asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Is that it?” Lucas demands. “Is that all you’ve got?”

  “It’s an unusual name. That should be enough to locate him if he wants to be found,” Alec says.

  “Fine. Let’s go.” Lucas takes my hand.

  I don’t move. “Alec, please don’t tell Kyle and Chloe what really happened. Let them believe what you did at first, that I got rid of it completely, that no one has it now.”

  He studies me for a moment. “You really are an extraordinary young lady. Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.”

  “Thank you,” I take a breath, feeling tired again. “You should also know that I called the police.”

  He nods, seeming unconcerned. “I thought you might.”

  “Come on,” Lucas urges. This time I allow him to lead me to the door.

  “Raielle,” Alec says, halting us with Lucas’s hand on the knob.

  I turn back to him.

  “I do wish you luck.”

  Lucas snorts his disbelief as he pulls open the door and nudges me out into the hall.

  “I can’t be
lieve you did that,” I hiss at him once we’re back in his truck. “You were the one who said we should keep him in the dark. Instead, you went and made his day.”

  He bangs his hand against the steering wheel. “I lost it, okay? The prick winked at you. He fucking winked!”

  I lean my head back against the seat feeling too tired to continue this. “Please just take me home,” I say. Even though my eyes are closed, I know Lucas is staring at me. Finally, I hear him put the keys in the ignition, and I’m asleep before he even turns onto the next street.

  Three days later, I wake up to terrible pain. It’s shooting through my body, but the spots at the base of my neck and in my right wrist burn the strongest. I try to relax my muscles. My right hand is fisted in the sheets, but I force my fingers to uncurl. I begin to take steady, even breaths. Finally, the coil of energy begins to form. I unravel it, sending it out, letting it flow through me. It takes longer than usual this time, but gradually, the pain eases. I maintain the energy until the burning sensation fades completely. Then I sigh in relief. My relief is so strong that I just lie there, listening to my own ragged breathing, as my heartbeat returns to its normal rhythm.

  Beside me, my phone vibrates. I reach for it, and my hand bangs against the nightstand. I quickly become alert as I sit up and stare at my right hand. Then I grab it with my other hand and gasp. I can’t feel my own touch. My right hand is completely numb.

  Using my left hand now, I press on my fingers, massaging them along with the rest of my hand, trying to bring some sensation back. But there’s nothing. From my wrist down, I feel absolutely nothing. Staring at my hand now, I try to move it, and I release the breath I’ve been holding when it obeys me. It’s awkward, but if I concentrate, I can use my hand. I can make a fist, and wiggle my fingers.

  I pick up my phone again with my left hand, and I place it in my right. My fingers close around it, but I can’t maintain my hold on it. The phone drops onto the bed. The tumors are gone again, but this time they left some damage behind. I cradle my hand and hope this isn’t permanent. I really may not have the little over two weeks that are left.