by Debra Doxer
“You any good?”
He rubs his hands over his knees. “I beat my cousin Brian last time.”
“You must be pretty decent then.” She smiles, and he nods again.
Then she waits a moment before growing serious. “Leo, I’m going to hold your hands, if that’s all right.”
His round eyes flick up to meet hers.
“It’s okay. I promise. Nothing I’m going to do will hurt you.” Raielle meets his gaze, and I can see she’s silently trying to convey her good intentions.
“Okay,” he whispers.
With his permission, she gently takes his small hands in hers. I hear his breathing quicken. His wide eyes are pinned to her face as his hands appear to grip her harder. Then I can see the concentration in her expression when she looks down at his bandaged wrists and pulls in deep, even breaths. We’re all watching silently, and in less than a minute, Leo starts to giggle.
“I can feel that.” He grins, glancing back at his mother.
I remember the feeling, too, the exhilaration that filled me when she healed my broken arm and my bruised face. When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I ignore it, knowing there’s no way I can cause a distraction now.
Obviously pleased at his response, Raielle continues. Leo’s face is frozen in a grin as he stares up at her. We all continue to watch, wondering what’s happening to his scars beneath those bandages. I glance over at John. He’s edging forward in his seat, watching her more intently than he had been before. When I look at Raielle again, her expression is tight and her eyes are wide and fearful. My muscles tense. Something’s wrong.
“Ray?” I take a step toward her, but her father stands and shoots his arm out in front of me, blocking me. Son of a bitch! I push by him, but before I can reach her, Raielle gasps, dropping the boy’s hands and standing abruptly.
Once I’m beside her, I see that her eyes aren’t focusing.
“Is it done?” the mother asks. “Are they gone?” She grabs her son’s wrists and begins unwinding the bandages.
Raielle tenses and glowers at the mother.
The bandages fall to the floor. “They’re gone.” The mother laughs in happy disbelief. “They’re really gone.”
“You know why he did this? Don’t you?” Raielle asks her.
Both Leo and his mother freeze.
“What did you see?” John asks quietly.
I can feel her body start to shake. “He’s being abused,” she whispers.
“You had a vision,” John states.
She nods and swallows. “I saw it. He hasn’t told anyone.” She reaches out and grabs the front of John’s shirt. “We have to help him.”
For the first time since we walked into this room, John’s calm expression slips. He seems almost pleased. “You did have a vision then?”
She nods.
“We’ll help him. Of course, we will,” he says. Then he goes over to his desk and picks up the phone. He says something quietly so none of us can hear.
When my own phone begins to vibrate again, I can’t help the worry that gnaws at me as I ignore it for the second time.
Raielle turns back to the boy and his mother, who are standing now and looking anxious to leave. Raielle bends down in front of Leo. “It’s going to be okay,” she tells him. But he turns away from her, pushing his face into his mother’s side.
The door opens and Nyla appears. “My wife will show you out,” John says.
The mother nods, mumbles a thank-you, and ushers her son out the door. Nyla gives us all a curt nod before she leaves, closing the door behind her.
“Nyla has contacts at Social Services,” John explains. “She’ll make sure they’re told.”
“He shouldn’t go home. I think it may be an uncle or some other relative.” Raielle glances back toward the door.
“Leave it to Nyla,” John says dismissively. Then he stares at Raielle for a long moment while she fidgets and looks like she wants to run after Leo. “How long have you been having visions during healings?” he asks.
She glances at me before answering. I notice that she has her hands clasped tightly together. “They started recently. Are visions unusual?”
He tries to fight a smile, but he’s unsuccessful. “Yes,” he finally says. “They’re very rare, actually. I’ve only met one other healer who had visions. Sit down. Tell me exactly what you see and how you feel when it’s happening.”
When my phone vibrates again, I glance down apologetically at her. “I’m sorry. I need to take this.” I bend in closer. “Are you okay? I don’t want to leave you in here with him.”
She smiles at me, but it’s stiff and doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m fine. Go ahead.”
She isn’t fine, but now isn’t the time to argue that point. I kiss the side of her head. Then I pull the phone from my pocket and step outside. I have three missed calls from Liam. My chest constricts with familiar fear as I call him back. The moment he picks up, I ask, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry to call so many times. I’m fine.”
“Jesus.” I breathe out, relieved, and lean back against the wall.
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Are you calling about Mom?” I ask, knowing it has to be about her.
He sighs heavily into the phone. “She hasn’t gotten out of bed in three days. The depression is getting worse again. She won’t talk to me or to Dad, and she says she’s done with therapists.”
I rub my hand over my face, knowing I should be there. “Where is Dad?”
“He’s here. He wants her to go back into the hospital.”
My eyes close. I hate the thought of her being in that place. But I can’t deny that it helps her, even though it’s always a temporary fix. “It sounds like that might be a good idea.”
In response, I hear only the sound of his breathing.
“Liam?”
“I figured you’d say that.”
“I’m sorry. Hang in there, okay?”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you found Raielle. I get that you have to be there now.”
I shake my head at the empty hallway. He’s taken my place. I never wanted to pass this torch down to my kid brother. I need to get back there soon, at least for a few days.
“Hey. Guess what?” he asks, trying to sound upbeat. “I’m going out with Abby Pierson.”
“Abby Pierson? Isn’t she the girl who keeps getting suspended for wearing her skirts too short?”
“That would be her.” He laughs.
I can feel myself smiling. “So it’s like that?”
“I have a pulse and a dick. So, yeah. It’s like that.”
“Shit. You’re too young for that to be coming out of your mouth.” I laugh out loud and wish again that I could be there talking to him in person. After a pause, I say, “Call me when it happens, okay? When she goes in.”
“Yeah. Okay. Say hi to Ray for me.”
“I will.” We disconnect, and I close my eyes, hating how conflicted I feel. I was supposed to be there for him, for all of them.
The smell of perfume has my eyes opening again to find that girl Charlie standing directly in front of me, surprisingly close, unapologetically crowding my personal space. Looking downward, I see that her feet are bare. Gone are the clicking high heels.
“Hi, Lucas.” She smiles up at me as her finger slides down my chest. “So, are you and Raielle exclusive?”
I stare pointedly at her finger on me. “I guess you and Shane aren’t?”
She shakes her head, overdoing it so that her long hair flips around her face and shoulders. “I’m a free agent.”
“Well, I’m not.” I go to move around her, but she moves with me.
“Come on. Don’t be that way.” She eyes me from beneath her long dark lashes.
The truth is, she’s beautiful in that too-perfect unreal Hollywood way that’s so typical here. Not too long ago, I would have bought what she was selling, but like Liam said, I’m not anym
ore. “Excuse me,” I say, moving from annoyed to pissed off when she blocks my attempt to get past her again.
“I could change your mind,” she says coyly.
Before I realize what she’s doing, a tiny blade appears in her hand. It comes up fast and slices down across my cheek. My face burns as my hand shoots out to grab her wrist, stopping the knife from coming at me again. I turn, pushing her back into the wall. “You’re fucking crazy.”
She only smiles at me. When I take the knife from her and step back, her other hand reaches out to grip my forearm. I feel a burst of heat travel into me. It runs up along my arm and then down the length of my back before it turns warm and soothing. Realizing what she’s doing to me, I drop the knife and try to peel her fingers off me when the next sensation hits. My muscles loosen as the burning in my cheek fades. Then she presses herself against me and crushes her lips into mine. I fight the pull she has on me, bringing my hands up, grabbing her arms and shoving her away. She stumbles back, losing her hold on me.
Breathing hard, the blood pounding in my head, I watch as she retrieves the knife from the floor and stands, her eyes shifting behind me. When I turn, another girl is there. She holds out her phone and gives me a mischievous smile.
“See?” Charlie says, pointing to my cheek. “All better now.” Then she turns and the two girls walk away together. I can hear them giggling as they disappear down the hallway.
My hand traces along my cheek as I glare at their retreating backs, and I know without a doubt that Raielle doesn’t belong here.
I OPEN the door to find him waiting in the hallway. Right away, I can see that something is wrong. His mouth is tight, and his eyebrows are a straight, harsh line. “Who was on the phone?”
Lucas says nothing until the door closes behind me. “Can we go now?” he asks.
I nod, worried by the look on his face.
Silently, he leads me out of the house and out to his truck. I watch his stiff movements, becoming more uneasy by the minute. “What’s wrong?”
He shoots me a dark look. “Let’s get out of here first.”
We sit in silence as he maneuvers down the winding driveway and out onto the road. The soft hum of the motor is the only sound as he leaves my father’s neighborhood and turns into traffic. After a mile or so, Lucas pulls into the parking lot of a Starbucks, but he makes no move to get out.
When he still says nothing, I get impatient. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
He pushes a hand through his hair, and I notice a smudge of red on his cheek. It looks like dried blood. He sees where my focus is, and his hand goes to his face. The same traces of blood appear to be on his fingers. Reaching for his arm, I ask, “What happened?” But I quickly sense that he’s not hurt or cut anywhere.
He pulls his arm back.
My apprehension builds at his silence. I stare at him, waiting him out, wondering what his phone call could have been about to make him act this way, and begin to fear that something terrible happened.
Finally, he shifts his body in my direction and pins me in place with an ice-cold stare. “What are you still doing here?”
I blink in confusion.
“Do you know what this is?” he asks, holding his red-stained hand out to me. “This is blood from where Charlie cut me with a knife while I was standing out in the hallway.”
I stare at him, running his words back in my head because they make no sense.
“She came up to me and asked if you and I were exclusive. When I told her we are, she pulled out a little pocketknife and sliced my cheek open. Then she healed it while she was planting a kiss on me.”
My stomach clenches as I stare at the dried blood on his face.
“And also…” He cocks his head to the side. “One of her friends took a picture of it. No doubt, they plan to show it to you at some point.”
I pull his gesturing hand from the air and clutch it in both of mine. I can hardly comprehend what he’s saying happened. “Are you okay?” I ask, picturing Shane’s bloody sheets and realizing that cutting and healing for the pleasure of it must be a common pastime around here. My own blood starts to boil at the thought of her attacking Lucas that way.
He takes a deep breath, and I can see him visibly trying to keep calm. “I’m fine, but I’m wondering what the hell you’re doing. You’ve been here for months. You must know what it took me less than a day to figure out.”
I clutch his hand tighter, wanting nothing more than to hunt down Charlie and hurt her myself, the same way she hurt him. I never wanted Lucas exposed to any of this, but I couldn’t have imagined something like that would happen. Looking at his fierce expression, I try to find the words that will make him understand something I hardly comprehend myself. “I’m here to figure out who and what I am,” I explain. “It’s not like I can go to the library or search on Google to find those answers. In terms of teachers, my options are limited.”
His lips draw together in a straight line. “You know who you are and so do I. You don’t need these people for that.”
Frustration and a sense of desperation build inside me. “Yes, I do. I almost got myself killed trying to heal Penelope, and look how I hurt you this morning. It’s dangerous to have this power inside me and not know what the hell I’m doing with it. I don’t want to just turn it off anymore. I’m like this for a reason. I have to understand how it works. And for the first time in my life, the answers are within reach. I need those answers. I can’t leave here without them.”
His eyes are intent on mine. I need him to understand, but then he shakes his head. “You’re not seeing things clearly. When you were helping that kid before, I could tell something was wrong. But when I tried to get to you, your father stopped me. He wasn’t worried about you. He was more interested in watching things play out.”
I swallow the bitter disappointment in my father that I’ve felt from the first moment I met him. “I know that. He’s not fooling me. He has his own reasons for why he does things. I have no idea why he saved my life or why he’s offering to help me now. But I can’t turn down his offer. I need him.”
Lucas grips the back of his seat, and I can see that he wants to say something, but he hesitates. I watch him, hoping he’s not going to keep trying to dissuade me. Finally, he leans forward and asks, “When your father saved you, who did he use?”
His question takes me by surprise, and I blink against the tears that always threaten when I think about it. “A stranger,” I answer quietly. “He won’t tell me who. He said that when a healer’s power is strong enough, a blood relative isn’t necessary. You can use anyone.”
He nods as though it makes sense. “That’s how he was able to do it. That’s why you’re sitting here now. Otherwise, he couldn’t have…” When he stops, unable to finish the thought, I can feel his relief at how things worked out.
I turn on him. “Someone is dead because of me. You realize that, don’t you?”
His mouth tightens, then his expression turns wary. “No matter how many times I tell you it wasn’t your fault, that you didn’t have a choice, it’s not going to make a difference. Is it?”
His eyes bore into mine, like he’s trying convince me of it again. But silence is my answer because I can’t lie to him. Reluctantly, he tears his gaze away, runs a hand through his hair and slumps down into the seat, then exhales in what sounds like defeat.
I wait, but he stays quiet. I’d prefer him to yell and be angry. That I could deal with. Then I’d know what he’s thinking. But I don’t know how to deal with this. He can’t make it better for me no matter how much he wants to, and I wonder if he’s beginning to realize that. I wish his words alone could make a difference. I wish I could be different.
He shifts in his seat. “Would you like to know something about me?” he asks, staring straight out the windshield. But he doesn’t wait for my answer. “I’ve never really gone after anything before.”
His words pull at me, and I look at him curiously.
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“Girls were easy. Well, except for you,” he adds with a shrug. “Grades were easy.”
I watch him, wondering where he’s going with this.
“Money was easy. My dad always gave me cash and never cared what it was for. I was just biding my time, waiting until the day I could leave and take Liam with me.”
“Things at home weren’t easy,” I point out.
He shifts to face me again. “But that was different. There was nothing to do there but withstand it. You’re the only thing I ever wanted that didn’t come easy. You’re the only thing I’ve ever fought for. And the truth is, I don’t know how to stop fighting.”
I’m not sure what he means. “But you have me. You can stop now.”
He tilts his head. “Do I?”
“Yes,” I answer quickly, shifting under the weight of his uncertainty, shocked that he could misunderstand me so completely. I swallow, searching for the right thing to say. He needs to know how strongly I feel about him, but I can’t paint him a pretty picture when one doesn’t exist. Maybe he regrets coming here now. Maybe I’m not who he wants anymore.
Nerves make my hands shake, and I wrap them around my knees to keep them still. “I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through, Lucas, for what I’m still putting us both through.” I pull in a shallow breath. “But I can’t be the girl I was before, and no matter how hard you fight to bring her back, she’s not coming back. But you can have the girl I am now if you want her, because she wants you. She still loves you.” Licking my dry lips, I watch him for his reaction. My whole body feels poised for a crushing disappointment.
He shows no emotion at first. It feels like he’s thinking about it, and that doesn’t seem to bode well for me. His expression stays the same for an excruciatingly long time, but then gradually the ice in his eyes seems to melt. He blinks, and his focus sharpens on me. “Ray,” he says softly, shaking his head. “I think we’ve both changed. After everything that’s happened, how could we stay the same? But I still love you. That hasn’t changed. No matter what happens, that won’t ever change.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat as his gaze stays on me, and it feels like we’re being honest for the first time today. No more pretending. No going back again.