Fate Foretold (Gifted Anomalies Book 1)

by Jaliza A. Burwell

  “Eli?” I whisper.

  “Hmm.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask, trying to not freak out. I went to bed alone and somehow I’m now wedged between two bodies.

  “You wouldn’t go to sleep. Jackson thinks you lost some control of your gift and you were Seeing. Whatever it was wasn’t good. You wouldn’t stop calling out until I crawled into bed. You didn’t completely calm down until Jackson joined, and then you went right to sleep.”

  “So, I’m in bed with you and Jackson.” I finally blink open my eyes, noting that Jackson is in front of me, his face only inches away. His broad jaw is covered in day-old scruff, and in sleep he looks younger, more relaxed.

  “You are, so I suggest you don’t shift around too much right now. I’m still too tired to move and Jackson is going to be out for a couple more hours.”

  “I need to pee,” I admit, face heating.

  He sighs, and I feel his face pressing into my shoulder. “I don’t want you to move.” He takes a deep breath.

  “Are you smelling me?” I ask.

  “Mmhmm.” He presses further into me so I can feel how hard he is. His nose finds a sensitive part of my neck, and I shiver against the intimate touch, all my nerves flaring alive. “You feel it too, don’t you?” he mumbles, his breath fanning against my skin.

  “Feel what?” I ask, trying to work through the haze falling over me.

  “This. The connection between us. I know you feel it. I can hear your heart rate increase and your breath growing shallow.”

  He shifts his hand down to my stomach. My shirt had risen up over the night and he manages to graze his fingers against my stomach as his leg goes between mine. I press into him, barely suppressing a groan. My body buzzes, anticipation growing low in my stomach. I haven’t felt like this with someone before.

  “I feel it too,” he whispers. “We all do. There’s something between us all.”

  He places a kiss at the nape of my neck, and I moan, losing myself to the intensity. He’s right about something existing between us, pulling us together. I knew that the moment I met them. My eyes can never stray far from them. And those emotions intensified now that they are physically here with me and not in the dream realm. It’s like the dream realm muted what I felt with them nearby and now, if I’m not careful, I won’t be able to get enough of them.

  All of them.

  I blink my eyes open and meet Jackson’s dark brown ones. I nearly fall into them with his expression. He’s watching me, his full lips parted. The expression on his face tells me he knows my deepest desires and he’s more than willing to fulfill them, dragging out my pleasure until I explode from it and lose myself down that rabbit hole. His expression says that if I’ll let him, he’ll torture me with my wants and needs, giving me exactly what I want, but only when he’s ready to give it to me.

  The air thickens with our energy, lust jumping through all three of us. The vision I had of them, all of them happy and filled with love as they look at me flashes through my mind. With that image in my head, I lean forward, closer to Jackson, and he responds.

  On the next intake of breath, Jackson’s lips are there, and I draw his taste into me. He tastes of electricity, of the kind of spice that sends a tingle across my lips, stroking my taste buds alive, but not so strong to be overwhelming. He’s just enough.

  Jackson moans as we deepen the kiss, and as Eli draws his teeth along my skin, I respond. My skin is on fire, needing their touch, demanding it. My hands find Jackson’s shirt, and I tug him closer as Eli brings his knee higher up until he’s pressing against my core.

  I sigh at the pressure.

  “Please, don’t mind me,” a humorous voice breaks the moment. I freeze as the other two pull away from me, sitting up. With the moment broken, reality falls back into place and my heart hurts. How can I do this? I barely know them. And it doesn’t change anything.

  Jackson sees the change over me and sighs.

  “DJ,” Eli growls out.

  “What?” he asks. “I just came to check in on her. How was I supposed to you know you’d be doing the horizontal tango. And without me too. I’m a little jealous.”

  I groan and try to bury my head into the pillow.

  “I need to pee,” I say into it.

  Eli rubs my back. “Here, I’ll carry you in.”

  Before I can turn him down, he pulls me into his chest and lifts me up with ease.

  “I can go on my own,” I argue.

  “No. You have one more day on bedrest.”

  He carries me into the en suite bathroom and places me down on the toilet seat. When I refuse to meet his eyes, he sighs and kneels in front of me. He cups my face, his thumb tracing my bottom lip.

  “Don’t overthink this,” he whispers. “Please don’t. Just trust in what you feel. We do.”

  “How could I do that?” I ask. “I’m not like that. I don’t… with both of you… I don’t do that.”

  “Shh, it’s okay. It really is okay.”

  “It isn’t.”

  He gives me a sad smile. “Our past, and how we are, it doesn’t allow for us to care for others. It has always been us against the world. But with you, it feels like you and us against the world. You fit.”

  “With all of you?” I’m so confused by this. I’ve never felt this intensity with anyone and here I am, feeling it with a whole group of guys.

  “With all of us. For now, don’t think too much about it. Just at least stay with us until you’re healed. Don’t try to leave before then. It’ll give us time to change your mind.” He stands up and pauses to kiss my forehead. “Let me know when you’re done.”

  He leaves, closing the door behind him.

  When I’m finished, I call out, hating that I need to rely on them. Jackson comes in this time and checks on the wound.

  “It’s healing nicely. Would you like to come out and eat breakfast with us? Get a change of scenery?”

  “Can I?”

  “I don’t see why not. A change of view will be good for you.”

  When I agree, he lifts me up and carries me out into the bedroom. Eli is by the door and opens it for us. Jackson carries me down a short hallway with closed doors and then down a set of stairs. At the bottom is a living room to the right and another doorway into a dining room to the left. We go into the dining room, and he puts me down in a chair at the head while DJ comes in with plates, setting up the table.

  I just watch as they set up the table for everyone and once they are finished, Colton comes in with a bowl of eggs. DJ brings a plate of bacon and sausages, while Jackson carries in toast. Eli has a stack of cups and orange juice.

  “Going all out, aren’t you?” I ask, amused by the scene.

  “We like to make sure to eat together as often as possible,” Colton says. “Life can get hectic, so we treasure our meals together.”

  I smile at that. When was the last time I shared a meal with someone like this? It had been a few months even before my dad was killed.

  Once everyone settles, we make our dishes. I do a scoop of eggs, and then dive for the sausage links, filling my plate with it.

  “No bacon?” Eli asks.

  I shake my head. “I don’t like bacon.”

  Someone gasps and I look up at DJ. His mouth is gaping, eyes wide.

  “How can you not like bacon? Are you broken? Are you sick?”

  “Shut it, DJ,” Jackson warns.

  I laugh as DJ continues to look appalled by the idea of someone not liking bacon.

  “Just not a flavor that I’d be willing to lose a few fingers over.” I glance at DJ’s plate, and then everyone else’s. They all have a huge serving of bacon on their dishes. Colton laughs when he notices what I see. I continue, “Besides, why fight over scraps of bacon when I can enjoy all the sausage I want.” I pick one up and bite into it.

  DJ and Eli’s expression are wide as they watch me. Jackson’s expression is hooded, and Colton is grinning big.

  I roll my eyes.
“You guys are immature.”

  “Did you not just hear what you said?” DJ asks.

  “I heard,” I tease and take another bite of the sausage, keeping my eyes on DJ. He swallows before turning to focus on his plate.

  Colton lets out another laugh and shakes his head before taking a bite of his eggs. Eli nibbles on a piece of bacon as he watches me eat, his head tilted to the side. My eyes dip down to his lips and I shiver when I remember what they felt like on my neck.

  These guys are going to drive me crazy and I’m not so sure I want to stop them. For once in a long, long time, I’m enjoying myself. And Eli is right. Whatever is between us, however, it’s there, I feel it too, and if I stay here for much longer, I won’t want to leave.

  Right now, while I share a meal with them, it doesn’t seem like a bad idea.

  22

  A couple days later, I’m staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Sleep has become its own evasive dream. Every time my eyes close, I see them all dead. That vision I had a couple of nights ago of them alive and happy had to have been just a dream mistaken as a vision. I haven’t had it since. Knowing I’ll need something to help me, I get up slowly, the stitches pulling at the movement, but at least I can walk on my own now.

  The cabin is cooler at night, and I slip into a pair of slippers that Eli got for me when he learned my feet got cold easily. After pulling on a sweater too, I inch out the door and listen, hearing no one moving.

  I make my way carefully down the stairs, wincing when the wound pulls at the movement. I still feel tired, but I do feel a lot better. I’m starting to feel alive again, and not having to worry about staying just ahead and on the run is a nice feeling after so long living in that kind of environment.

  It isn’t easy going day to day, always looking over my shoulder, wondering when the day I get caught finally comes. Being on the run feels like having an anvil dangling over my head, ready to drop at any moment. Being here with the guys, I don’t feel like that. I feel like there’s a chance. And they’re able to keep a close eye on Noah, who’s still trying to tear Little Rock apart. It’d be nice if he thinks I’m dead in a ditch somewhere. Would serve him right after shooting me.

  My lip trembles at the reminder as I walk into the kitchen and go over to the coffee machine, not bothering to turn on any lights. After hitting the button to get it going, I listen while it warms up the water. My shoulders droop as my thoughts go in that direction. I’ve been fighting so hard not to think about it, but now, in the darkness, I can’t help but bring it up.

  I’ve been shot.

  My body is now scared because of a bullet from a gun someone aimed at me. What am I supposed to do with that information? My chest tightens, and I grip my shirt as I put the mug down and slip the tea packet into its holder. Once it’s running, I turn and lean against the counter, my head bent down.

  It’s hard to think about someone not caring enough about your life. He wanted to shoot me, to hurt me, to make me feel pain. Why? Because I’m a job to him? Because me in pain would be easier to handle than trying to subdue me in normal means. All I am to Noah is a paycheck and that means he doesn’t give a shit about my wellbeing.

  Fear crawls through my body and my eyes burn.

  I’ve been shot.

  I bite my lip, trying to keep back the tears. Is this a delayed reaction?

  The coffee machine spits and hisses as the air fills with the aroma of chamomile. Normally, that can relax me, but nothing can get through this fear and panic.

  I’ve been shot.

  “Shh, it’s okay.” Jackson’s hands are gentle as he pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms around me. The moment he touches me, I stiffen, not expecting his touch. I’m so in my head, I never noticed him coming in. He rubs my back as I let out a sob, and my body automatically relaxes into him as I bury my head into his chest. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

  “He shot me,” I cry out.

  “Yes, he did.” Jackson’s hold on me tightens as if he can’t believe it either. “And if he tries again, I’ll remove his head from his body.”

  “I never been shot at before,” I whisper and hiccup.

  “No one should ever have that experience.”

  I take in a deep breath, finding comfort in his spice scent that even the chamomile tea couldn’t give me. My muscles relax as he whispers comfort into my ears. My body involuntarily shudders as the tension in my muscles lessens each time he rubs over them.

  “Sorry.” Taking in a deep breath, I draw back from him. “What are you doing up?” I wipe at my face, trying to erase the tears and signs of my breakdown.

  “Don’t ever apologize for feeling. Never.” His voice is intense, the darkness hiding his expression. He reaches up, wiping underneath my eyes. Once he finishes, his hand drops to his side and he steps back to give me space. “And I’m up because I’m more of a night person.”

  I blink up at him, trying to see him. My night vision has formed just enough to note dark sweatpants that sit low on his hips and a dark T-shirt. While I can’t see his face, the tiredness in his voice hints that there would be dark circles around his eyes.

  This man has demons that plague him at night too. I only know this because I’m going through the same thing and have had that issue since being on the run. Nights are always filled with sleeplessness and the fear that by taking the moment to rest, Holsen’s men have the chance to catch up.

  I turn and grab my tea, taking a sip as Jackson leans against the island countertop, his arms resting on them.

  “Eli wasn’t lying the other day.”

  “About what?”

  “About you, about us. We all feel it. I just want to mention he’s not lying, and if it’s coming from Eli, it means something.”

  “Means something?”

  Jackson sighs. “We don’t do women and relationships. It’s too much vulnerability in our lives. Eli especially. His gift makes it difficult.”

  “Difficult? The superhuman senses?” I ask.

  He nods. “It gets too intense for him sometimes and that makes it hard for him when it comes to relationships. He avoids it as much as possible so he doesn’t have a lot of experience.”

  “Experience.” I’m starting to feel like a parrot. “Oh. Oh. Are you saying he’s a virgin?”

  “He is.”

  I blink a couple of times, thinking back to when he kissed my neck and bit me, the way his hands made me feel alive. That did not feel like a man without experience.

  “He’s tried,” Jackson explains, seeing where my thoughts are going. “He’s definitely tried, but when it comes down to it, he stops.”

  “It would be too much for him?” I ask.

  “Yes. But that isn’t why I bring it up. I bring that up so I can stress what it really means when he said he feels the connection and that we all do, he’s not bullshitting. He is far from a Casanova.”

  “Do you…” I trail off trying to collect my thoughts. “Do you know why we feel like this with each other?”

  “Don’t believe in instant love, love at first sight?” he asks, his humor slipping in.

  “Definitely not. That’s bullshit stories people believe and spread to explain their lust. Something like that starts with lust.”

  His smirks widen. “And do you feel that for us? Lust.”

  I slowly let my eyes trail over his body, appreciating how well he has taken care of himself. He’s broad, muscular, but not overly so. His body is built to fight as a powerhouse and to survive.

  “Most definitely,” I whisper.

  “And the others?” His voice is just as low as mine.

  “Yes,” I hiss out.

  “We feel the same, Adalyn.”

  There’s rustling as he moves away from the counter. His voice is a soft whisper in the darkness, wrapping around me intimately, waking up all my nerves. Anticipation thrums through my entire body with his simple words.

  “We most definitely feel the same.”

  I can fee
l the strain in his body. Something inside of him is at war as he leans toward me and then away, fighting himself. He moves to say something but then he stiffens.

  “You’re scared about this. Just as much as I am, right?” I keep my question soft, treating him like a cornered animal. I don’t want to frighten him.

  “I’m scared for you. We all have a past, but mine is darker. It isn’t happy, and if you find out, you’ll want to run.”

  After putting my cup down on the counter, I step closer to him, needing to touch him, but not sure if he’ll let me. I watch his expression carefully as I approach him slowly. He watches me just as intensely even though the darkness shields his eyes from me. I can feel his eyes leaving a blaze of heat on my skin.

  “Tell me,” I murmur. “Instead of making it sound so ominous, tell me and let me decide. You need to remember, I can See, Jackson. Some of the things I’ve Seen… it’s not rainbows and sugar.”

  His lip twitches as he fights his smile.

  “Rainbows and sugar?”

  “I like sugar,” I respond.

  He grunts, and when I reach out to touch his forearm, I can feel how tense he is. His muscles are flexed in his arm as he fights to restrain himself, as if he’s trying to protect me from himself.

  “Tell me.” I tilt my head back to look up at him, moving up against him until my breasts brush against his chest. Even if I want to move away, I can’t. Not when I’m this close.

  His hands rest on my hips, and I can feel him wavering. He’s looking down at me with such wariness that my heart breaks for him, wondering what kind of past he has that has him looking at people like that.

  He licks his lips and starts speaking. “My gift is psionic blast. I can throw energy at people and knock them out. I can use it to overwhelm their senses.” He pauses, and when I just stare at him, he continues. “I know DJ mentioned the compound we grew up in. They liked to experiment on us. Every day, they’d do something different, push us to our limits, hurt us, and watch us, all in the name of science. It was not a nice place.”

  The blood leaves my face at that tidbit. He’s still eyeing me carefully so I do my best to keep my thoughts off my face and hope he can’t see every detail. He doesn’t need to see that my heart is screaming for him and the others.