Chapter Thirteen
It was light when she woke, the full light that signals mid-morning. Libby rolled over in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Mum, please come home today.
The silence had her grimacing.
She showered and dressed quickly, following the scent of coffee to the kitchen. Anna smiled as she entered the room.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, thanks.” She accepted the mug of coffee, feeling a faint anxiety as the older woman glanced at the clock. “Will they be back early?”
“Yes, they’ll be here soon.” She busied herself setting out breakfast. Various cereals appeared on the table, along with the milk, and orange juice. It was almost like being at a hotel, she mused with a smile. When Anna started grilling bacon, Libby realized that the woman was nervous about Jackson’s return. Not for the first time, she wondered what on earth Jackson had been through.
When Kelly joined them, heavy eyed and still humming with annoyance, Libby was relieved.
“How did it go?”
“Don’t ask. Seriously.” The redhead reached for the cocoa pops. “And think twice about getting involved with a talent. It’s impossible.”
Anna chuckled. “I’m sure Danny feels the same about you, sweetheart.”
Kelly merely glowered in response.
“How usual is it for talents to use their skills this way? You know, interfering with people's minds.” Libby asked tentatively. “Should I be worried?”
Anna took a moment before replying. “Some people take advantage of their talents. Criminals aren’t exactly ethical, whether they have a talent or not. Just take care of yourself.”
“Dad and Paul are looking into it,” Kelly reassured her. “They know what they’re doing.”
Somewhat comforted by that, Libby began her own breakfast.
When they heard a car on the drive, her gaze snapped to Anna’s. She nodded slightly and Libby got to her feet. Apprehensive, she made her way through to the hallway and out onto the drive.
Jackson looked exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes made him appear paler than usual and the smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes. Hiding her shock, she glanced at Ian, who gave her arm a reassuring squeeze as he passed into the house.
Jackson walked towards her.
“Hey Libby.”
“Hey yourself.”
Libby stepped forward, buried her face against his shoulder, her eyes closed tight as she tried to regulate her fear for him. It was such a relief to have him close again that she couldn’t think of anything but the feel of him against her. If he was surprised at having her in his arms, he hid it well.
“I’m glad you’re still here.”
“Of course I am.” Libby leaned back a little to meet his gaze. “I missed you.”
He smiled, a glimmer of his usual cockiness lighting his eyes. “Of course you did.”
She put a hand to his cheek, felt the heat of his skin all the way to her toes. “I’m sorry it was painful for you.”
He shook his head, but she moved her fingers to his lips to stop him speaking. She already knew he wouldn’t want to talk about his weekend. “Don’t try and brush it off. I won’t ask about it, but I’m sorry.”
Without thinking, she took away her fingers, replaced them with her lips. His were warm, soft.
It was startling.
She felt the flash of heat, a leap in her soul that made her heart sing.
Fear had kept this from her. Fear that she'd lose herself, and with that, her future.
She had been completely stupid.
“Libby.” His voice was rough, his eyes wide as she drew back. She laughed, triumphant, even as his hands tightened on her arms.
“Wow. Who knew?” She slid her hands into his hair, tugged him closer. “Let’s try again.”
This time he met her halfway. Sensation flooded her, and she wondered if her heart could contain it. Wrapping her arms around him, she followed his lead. The truth of it was that she had wanted this forever, and it had been worth the wait. His hands tangled in her hair and she felt it with shocked joy, felt the heat and longing that mirrored her own. The thrill of him had her pressing closer, forgetting herself, forgetting everything.
When he pulled back, she held fast. His eyes were dark and he looked as stunned as she felt.
“Wow,” she said in wonder.
His fingers traced her jaw lightly, his expression one of disbelief.
“Wow about covers it.” Jackson hesitated. “Libby-”
“If you’re about to accuse me of pity kissing you, shut up.” She grinned as he raised his eyebrows.
“Okay.”
“Your mum made breakfast.”
He winced, stepping back. “Wow, that certainly killed the mood.”
Laughing, Libby took his hand as they made their way in doors. “I have a shield. Do you want the demo?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not now.”
Understanding, she squeezed his hand once before releasing him as they entered the kitchen. Ian was already eating, a large mug of coffee by his plate.
Anna rushed to Jackson, pulling him into a hard hug. “I’ve made breakfast. Sit.”
He shook his head. “I’m not an invalid, mum.”
Kelly snorted. “Just lap it up while you can.”
His grin flashed and Libby felt herself settle a little. Even so, she watched to make sure he ate and twice filled his glass with orange juice. Between her and Anna, he was full to bursting before he managed to get away from the table.
“Mum, that was great.” He took his plate to the dishwasher, loaded it. “Thanks.”
“No problem, darling.” She smiled warmly. “Did Libby tell you that she’s a natural at shielding?”
He slid her an amused glance. “A natural? No, she didn’t.”
“You’ll be amazed. Once she shields you can’t read a thing.” Anna informed him with a pride that had Libby blushing. “After only a couple of hours too. She’s my best ever student.”
“She’s naturally nerdy,” Kelly laughed, raising her arms in mock defense. “It’s true!”
Grinning, Libby had to agree. “I can’t help it.”
Jackson slung an arm around her shoulders, squeezed. “I like it.”
Kelly rolled her eyes as she crossed over to the sink. “Okay, clear off everyone. I’ve got this.”
Not needing any more encouragement to leave the washing up, Jackson hustled Libby out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
His room was at the top of the house, a converted attic that housed a bulging bookcase, three guitars and various motorbike parts scattered over a large drawing desk. Libby looked around curiously as he slung his rucksack onto an arm chair.
He was fairly tidy in a haphazard way, she realized, watching him unpack the bag. He chucked some clothes into the laundry basket and stuffed the bag into his wardrobe. Turning to examine the bookcase, she found it filled with a variety of reading material. An extensive collection of motorbike magazines, a few novels and a range of non-fiction titles. She hadn’t realized that he read quite so much.
“I don’t sleep all that well,” he commented and she jolted, having forgotten to shield.
“I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“I know.” He sat down on the bed, a solid wooden double with plain blue sheets. She eyed him warily before sitting in the armchair that faced him. He smiled. “Let’s see it then, the amazing shield.”
“It’s not that amazing,” she retorted. “It’s not exactly hard.”
He raised his eyebrows at that. “You’ll not find many new talents agreeing with you. Think of something exciting.”
She rolled her eyes and shielded. She didn’t have to think of much at all, it was too entertaining to read his reaction. Amusement slid into astonishment, then, finally, a hint of disbelief.
“I can’t read a thing.” He exclaimed after a few moments. “Wow. Wow.”
Pulling a face, she l
eaned forward and propped her elbows on her knees. “Is it that amazing, really?”
“It is.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You have no chinks, no gaps anywhere. After only a day of training! Not many new talents could manage that with so little effort.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Really? Cool.”
“How long can you hold it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been shielding all morning from Kelly, but then she wasn’t looking. I’ll let you know.”
He looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head again. “Amazing.”
She dropped the shield, felt his pleasure warm her, and smiled.
“So, how are you Jack?”
He tipped back on the bed, rubbed his hands over his face. He was tired, right down to his soul. Pity had her crossing over to sit beside him.
“Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be able to move on.” He sighed, dropped his hands to meet her eyes. “Most days I don’t think of it, but then…you know.”
“Sally always says that it’s better to talk about it.”
“Not this time.” He looked away. “If I shared this with you…you don’t want to know.”
Frustration warred with relief and, confused, she didn’t respond. It was hurtful that he didn’t want to share this with her, but she knew well enough that he was set on not telling her what had happened last year. Knowing that she wouldn’t budge him today, there was little to say.
“How can I help you?” She asked at last.
“You are helping,” he smiled, threading his fingers through hers. “How long can you stay?”
A glance at her watch had her wincing. “Not long. I said I’d do lunch for dad.”
Jackson sat up, slapped his hands on his thighs. “Right. How about we go to yours, and I’ll help with lunch.”
This time it was Libby raising her eyebrows. Jackson usually only hit the kitchen long enough to eat and she had the impression that he had no patience for cooking more than toast.
“You want to cook?”
“I want to be busy. Let’s go.”
He talked all the way back to her house, about the weather, about the journey back from London, asking questions about her day with his mum. She humoured him, elaborating on her answers with such unnecessary detail that she was surprised he didn’t fall asleep with boredom. Then again, she knew how vital distraction could be.
In the kitchen, he didn’t so much help as get in the way. She browned the beef for the casserole, sighing over the length of time it took him to peel and slice the carrots.
“Just let me do it. It’s not art, you know,” she scolded eventually, nudging him aside. She finished the job quickly before slicing the mushrooms. “Open a can of chopped tomatoes, would you?”
“I think I can manage that,” he replied grudgingly. “You didn’t tell me it was a race.”
“It needs at least an hour in the oven,” she countered. “Just stir them into the pot.”
By the time the casserole was bubbling away in the oven, he had given up and taken himself off to the sofa. She found him there reading the newspaper.
“Anything interesting happening today?”
“No.” He dropped the paper onto the coffee table as she sat beside him. “It’s bloody depressing, actually. I just can’t get into politics.”
“You’d be surprised how into politics you are. Want the legal age for buying alcohol to drop? Raise the minimum wage? It's politics.”
“Yeah, true.” He considered that before shaking his head. “One day. Clearly I can leave the minimum wage to you for now.”
Laughing, Libby placed her hands either side of his face. “Right. Kiss me, will you?”
She saw his grin flash and then his lips were on hers. Again, the heat had her blood firing through her veins, singing with the joy of it. It was incredible. She had no idea how long it was before he pulled back, his eyes dark and fierce.
“We need to be careful.”
Trembling as he ran his hands through her hair, traced a thumb over the racing pulse at the base of her throat, Libby struggled to respond.
“Careful?”
He pressed a kiss to her jaw and she gripped his shoulders as though trying to keep him close. “We can’t shield like this.”
He was right about that. She’d felt his desire alongside her own, just as powerful, and the combination had almost floored her.
“It’s too strong. We should be careful.”
He was worried. She could feel that, understood it. With that sort of emotion hitting them both like a flash fire, it wouldn’t be hard to lose control of the situation completely. At this moment, with his lips on hers, she wasn’t sure she cared.
With reluctance, he pulled back and met her gaze. “When I left, you were still in denial that this was a relationship. You’d care.”
“Maybe. Probably.” She laughed, rubbing her temples. “I’m just so amazed. I worried all this time about this, but it…it feels perfect. You know, I feel normal.”
“Normal?” He sounded slightly offended. “That doesn’t sound very complimentary.”
“You know what I mean,” she grinned.
Impulsively, she kissed him again, thrilled with it, with herself. This time when he ended the kiss, albeit reluctantly, she smiled. “You’re so strict.”
“Your dad just pulled in the driveway.”
Libby froze for a moment and then leaped to her feet, barely aware of Jackson’s amusement. “Oh God, what will he think? You’re supposed to be in London.”
“I was,” Jackson replied calmly, green eyes dancing. “Relax, Libby. This is what ‘normal' teenagers do.”
She barely had time to shoot him a dirty look before her father opened the front door.
“Hey Dad.” She met him in the hall, gave him a hug. “Jackson’s here. Do you mind if he stays for lunch?”
He was surprised, and not in a good way. Inwardly she cursed herself for blurting it out so clumsily. She probably looked guilty. Great.
She glanced behind her, pulling a face as Jackson appeared in the doorway to the living room. He looked…calm. Harmless. She had no idea how he did it.
“Thanks Libby, but mum’s expecting me home.” He smiled at her dad. “I only got back a couple of hours ago.”
Eric relaxed a little. “I expect she wants to hear about your weekend. Did you have fun?”
Libby felt the wave of nausea before it vanished, as though Jackson had flipped a switch on his emotions. She looked at him sharply. His expression was calm, giving no sign of anything being wrong. It was all she could do not to reach out to him.
“Yes, thanks.” He glanced at Libby with a half-smile. “Mum said you are welcome anytime, by the way. Apparently you’re a good influence on Kelly.”
Eric laughed as he shrugged off his jacket. “You must’ve had a great weekend, Libs.”
“It was cool,” she replied lightly, worried eyes still on Jack. “Do you need to leave right away?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He moved towards the door. Libby glanced at her dad, who was heading back to the kitchen, clearly following his nose.
“Bye Jackson. Thank your mother for me.”
“Will do.”
Libby followed Jackson out. “Jack, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You do know about this talent we have? And that I’m an empath? You shielded just a fraction too late in there.”
He looked away, shaking his head. “Alright. I’m as fine as I can be.”
Libby tugged on his arm, pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry. Let me help.”
He grinned then, pressing a quick kiss on her lips. “You did help.”
The topic was still closed. Not sure whether to be annoyed or relieved, Libby huffed out a breath, stepped back. “Okay. For now.”
It wouldn’t be pleasant, when he told her. Yet she wanted to know, needed to. Suddenly everything
seemed so clear; whatever happened from now on, they were together. His past was a major part of that and, until he told her about it, there was nothing she could do to help him move forward. Frustrated, she battled against herself and the need to push until he told her everything.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Helpless, she watched him drive away. Shivering in the sudden cold, Libby wrapped her arms around herself.
Chapter Fourteen
The strange sense of foreboding didn’t last long. Once she started remembering those kisses, she could barely contain herself. She felt weightless, unburdened. Her mood must have been catching, as her dad was easy to converse with and even laughed at her jokes.
That night it was hard to sleep. She had been so afraid. It seemed stupid now. What had she ever had to fear from Jackson? He was so patient, so kind, so…everything. And he just got her. That was the amazing thing. He knew how important school was to her and he never teased her about it, never made her feel like she had to apologize because she wanted to study instead of going out. He was pretty amazing. She fell asleep smiling.
The next morning, everything seemed brighter. Libby almost ran to school. All she could think of, all she wanted, was to see Jackson. She felt as though she could take on the world.
The feeling lasted precisely as long as it took to read the expression on his face.
“Are you insane?” He hissed, pulling her to one side out of the stream of students heading along the path. “I could hardly believe it when Danny told me what you and Kelly have been up to.”
“What?” She shook her head in confusion. This wasn’t the greeting she had been expecting and the change of speed took her a moment to process. “What are you talking about?”
He glared at her in annoyance. “You know what I'm talking about. Putting yourself in the path of a psychotic talent isn’t a game, Libby. I told you not to get involved.”
Realization came with annoyance hot on its heels. “Oh for goodness sake. You’ve missed the boat on this one, Jack; we’ve been acquitted by the jurors already.”
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