Brain Storm (A Taylor Morrison Novel Book 1)

by Cat Gilbert

  I was blank for a second, before I realized he was talking about Mac. Apparently he was Sean when Brown met him at the Agency. He’d forgotten to mention that little fact.

  “Okay, Sean,” I said, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Slide it over here.”

  He had the decency to look somewhat chagrined as we managed to change seats without too much difficulty in the slow moving traffic.

  “Where are they, Bryan?” I asked, buckling into my seat, ignoring Brown for the moment. “Can you see them?”

  “Yeah. Black sedan, far right lane about 5 cars back. Three guys inside from what I can see. The other one is a little further back coming up in the fast lane though. It’s a light color, can’t tell too much in the dark, but there’ s couple of guys in there.”

  I felt the skin crawl up the back of my neck. They’d been ready for us. I didn’t know how, but they’d been ready. We’d hit them at 4 in the morning and they had two cars and at least five men, dressed, gassed up and ready to go. They’d been expecting us and there was only one way they could have known.

  He’s one of them! I concentrated on Mac and sent the words of warning over to him. From the way his jaw clenched, I knew he had heard me. So two of us knew now. Problem was, what to do about it. Brown seemed willing to help us for the time being. That was our next step. Get rid of the tail. Then we’d see about Brown.

  “So tell me,” I asked him. “How exactly do I stop them?”

  Brown was quiet for a beat or two watching me before he answered and I wondered if he had heard my mental warning to Mac.

  “Get a visual on the car. You won’t need it in the future, but it will be easier for you to do if you can see your target the first few times.”

  See the target? What was I going to do? Blow it up? I rolled down the window and reached out to adjust the side mirror until I had the car Bryan described in view. They wouldn’t stay there for long, the way traffic was moving, but for the time being I could see them.

  “Okay. I see them.”

  “Good. Now focus on the car. Get it in your mind. What it looks like.”

  I stared at the car’s reflection in the glass, memorizing the details as much as possible. They were slowly passing under a street lamp and I could see the figures inside as the light glinted off the dark paint.

  “Now keep the image fixed in your head and close your eyes.” His voice was quiet and soft. “Open the hood and look at the engine. Picture it in your mind. See the wires running into it, the hoses. Reach out and wrap your hands around them. Feel them.”

  “Are you kidding me?” My eyes popped open and I turned to glare at him. “Who do you think you are? Yoda?” I jerked back around to check on the car only to see it had managed to close the gap between us by another car length.

  “Taylor, he’s saying you can disable the car with your mind.” Mac checked his mirrors as he forced his way into the next lane, giving us a little breathing room. “Focus on it in your head and lay waste.”

  “I can’t lay waste!” I snapped at him as irritated at his second use of my former name as I was frustrated with what they were asking me to do. “I don’t know where the wires are. Or the hoses! This isn’t magic, boys. I can’t just blink my eyes and it happens.”

  Brown let out a heavy sigh from the back and I barely managed to stop myself from turning around and throwing him out onto the highway. It wouldn’t hurt him much. We were barely moving after all.

  “Do you think you know where the gas pedal is?” He was clearly as put out with me as I was with him. Ingrate. We had rescued him after all. Or had we? Suspicious and angry, it was everything I could do to listen to him. At this point though, what did I have to lose, except the two cars following us. I unclenched my jaw and nodded and heard him lean back into his seat, satisfied.

  “Okay then. Wait until you see him start moving forward and tromp down on the gas. Just picture his foot on the gas pedal and press it down. Hard.”

  I focused my attention on the car in the right hand lane and thought hard about that gas pedal, waiting for an opening. Suddenly it was there. The two cars in front of them peeled off onto an exit, giving them a big opening and a chance to gain ground on us. The moment he started moving forward, I mentally pushed his right foot to the floor. The resulting crash into the light pole as he tried to avoid the car suddenly in front of him was more than I could have hoped for.

  “Whoa,” Bryan whistled from the back seat. “That did it. Hood’s up and steam is pouring out.” He leaned forward in his seat to pat my shoulder. “Way to feel the force. Now how about the other one?”

  It took two tries. Apparently the driver had caught on to what was happening and was riding the brake, but I could picture a steering wheel as easily as the gas pedal and before he knew it he’d driven into the median. It wasn’t great, but good enough. We were still tied up in traffic, but now there was a bigger jam building behind us and our tails were going nowhere fast.

  I nodded to Mac as he inched his way closer to the accident up ahead and leaned back in the seat to rest. The pain was back behind my eyes, and my vision was starting to blur. The constant buzz that had been in my head since I woke Brown up was quickly becoming annoying and my mind was swimming with the fact that there was an excellent chance that he was working against us.

  The nudge on my shoulder woke me and I glanced over to see Mac bob his head, motioning me to look out my window. We’d reached the accident. Traffic had necked down to a single lane and we had a front row seat.

  A semi had hit a car, pinning it under it’s wheels. Rescue teams had arrived and were working to get the car door open. As we drew alongside I could see a body pinned to the steering wheel and I watched in horror as a small hand fluttered deep inside the car.

  We’d been struck in traffic for over 20 minutes and I had to assume they’d been working the whole time, trying to extricate the people trapped inside the wreck. I sat up in my seat, as I watched them move the pry bars to make another attempt, my mind frantic to find a way to help.

  “Don’t do it Taylor. You’re not ready for this.” I heard Brown’s warning from a distance, a dim echo in my head and chose to ignore it. Ready or not, they needed help and they needed it now.

  I focused my mind on the crumpled door, grabbed hold and pulled. The door flew open like it had been blown off and just as fast, I was inside the car, struggling to help free the child trapped in the back. I heard the creak of metal above me and knew it was too late. The weight was too much, we’d never get them out in time. I froze as I watched the metal around me begin to crumble and braced my mind against it.

  “Sean, you need to move, you’re holding up traffic,” Bryan shouted. “The police are heading this way.”

  The car suddenly shot forward as pain pierced through my brain, taking my breath away. I wrapped my arms around my head, trying to cushion the pain, even as I rocked in my seat in an effort to escape. I heard the sobs coming from my own throat and struggled to gain some form of control.

  “Her nose is bleeding. Bad.” Mac’s voice echoed through the car.

  “Get her back here.” It was Brown’s voice I heard, as hands fumbled at the belt buckle and drug me out of the seat into the back of the van.

  Instantly, hands clamped onto the bridge of my nose, pressing the veins, trying to slow the flow of blood. It was Brown.

  “No!” I yelled, as I knocked his hands away, scrambling to escape him.

  “Taylor, stop it.” He grabbed my flailing hands, pinning them between us. “I’m on your side.” I managed to get a hand free and brought it up in a fist, intent on doing damage.

  “Stop it!” He caught my fist again and I was trapped, pinned to the back seat, helpless against him. I stopped fighting and gathering my thoughts, pushed out with what little strength I had left.

  THIRTY-TWO

  IT WAS PITCH black when I came to and I laid still for a minute, trying to take in my surroundings. Drawing in a deep breath, I inhaled the scent of clean line
n and instantly recognized the signature aroma of Mama D’s laundry soap. I sat up slowly and waited patiently for the room to quit spinning.

  “Welcome back Sam. How’s your head?” The question came through the darkness and I jumped before recognizing it was Mac who was in the room with me.

  “So it’s back to Sam now, is it, Sean?” I was mumbling and groggy and not in a good mood. “My heads fine. I’m good. Except for you scaring me half to death lurking over there in the dark. I wish you’d quit sneaking up on me.” It sounded whiney even to me and his snort of disbelief didn’t help. I threw a glare in his direction resentful that he was right, even though I knew he couldn’t see it in the dark. I wasn’t fine. My head felt like it was filled with cotton batting instead of brain tissue and threatened to fly off with every move I made.

  “Wait. You’re serious, aren’t you?” He may not have been able to see me, but being able to sense my emotions was a dead giveaway. “You really don’t know when I’m around.”

  “No. I don’t.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and waited for the room to quit spinning. “Just why is that anyway? You can sense me. I can sense Brown. I can communicate with both of you, but you can’t communicate with me and I can’t sense you.” I could hear my voice going up in volume with each word, escalating quickly from merely whiney to near hysterics. I really needed to calm down.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was right next to me, close enough for me to feel his breath on my face before he laid his hand on my arm, instantly lowering my nerves to a manageable level. “I made an assumption and I shouldn’t have. I don’t know why you can’t sense me. Can you sense anyone else?” I knew he was asking about Bryan and Candice and I shook my head. I didn’t get anything from them, but then I hadn’t really tried. Just assumed, like he had. “You should ask Brown.”

  “I’m not asking Brown anything. I don’t like him.” I grimaced at that. Sad that being back to whiney was an improvement. “Why does he call you Sean?”

  “That’s the name I go by at the Agency. I forgot to warn you about that.” He at least had the good grace to sound contrite. “It’s better that he keeps thinking of me that way and of you as Taylor. That’s the name he knows you by, and we should keep it that way until we know where he stands. You’ve established the Samantha White alias now. No reason to have to start a new one if we don’t have to. I’ve talked to the others and they understand. When Brown’s around it’s Sean and Taylor. Bryan and Candice stay with their alias. Their names don’t matter. We’ll probably be changing them anyway. Candice hates hers.”

  His attempt at a joke fell flat, but he’d managed to answer my questions and calm me down to the point that my nerves, though still frazzled, at least were no longer borderline. I was mostly just tired. Tired of the whole thing. All the intrigue, all the lies, all the running. Tired of looking for answers and just getting more questions. He moved away at my sigh of resignation, his voice now coming from someplace above my head.

  “I’m turning on the light. Watch your eyes.”

  “Bryan called you Mac in the van. Won’t Brown know somethings up?” I asked, hearing him move across the room to the switch.

  “I doubt he even noticed. He kinda had his hands full at the time. Besides ‘Mac’ is a pretty normal generic for guys to throw around. If it’s a problem, I have other names I can use.”

  Dim light suddenly flooded the room, making my eyes tear up. Blinking them away, I looked around, getting my bearings. We were back at the cabin, in my room. Mac moved near and in the light I could see the dark shadows and lines that marked his face. Apparently it had been worse than I thought.

  “How long this time?” I asked quietly, finally ready to face what had happened.

  “Three days. Off and on. You kept fading in and out, but it looks like you’re sticking around this time.” The smile on his lips didn’t quite reach his eyes. That he was exhausted was evident. I had no idea what had gone on while I was out, but it was obvious he’d had a tough time of it. I looked at him, afraid to ask the question that was burning in my brain.

  “They got out, Sam. You got them out,but it was close. Too close.” He shifted on the bed and looked away, uncomfortable. I must have really scared him. “ Why didn’t you listen to Brown?”

  “You know why I didn’t listen to him,” I said, thinking the answer should have been obvious. Why would I ever listen to Brown, was a better question. He’d been nothing but trouble from the minute we picked him up. For all I knew he’d set us up. “Speaking of Brown, where is he?”

  “He’s not here. I’ll fill you in on him later. Right now, you need to eat. I’ll go get you some food.” Mac headed for the door, but I waved him off.

  The dizziness had finally faded and I got to my feet. I was a little shaky and my head still hurt, but not so bad, all things considered.

  “Don’t hurry. I want to clean up first and that’s going to involve a long, hot shower.” I felt the muscles in my sore back flex in anticipation. “I’ll come down after I’m through.”

  “Okay. Come downstairs if that’s what you want, but just don’t push it. You’ve been through a lot. If you need me, just call.” He threw me a cocky wink as he walked out the door only to pop his head back around for a parting shot. “Oh and Sam? Just so you’re prepared. It’s not a pretty a sight.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” I tossed back over my shoulder, not knowing if he was talking about the bathroom or me.

  I flipped on the light and knew in an instant he meant me. I had one heck of a shiner. All blacks, blues and purples, with a little yellow and green thrown in on the edges. My left eye wasn’t swollen shut, but it wasn’t open either. The split lip finished it off with a flourish. I turned on the water and stripped down, only to find myself covered in bruises. Every joint ached and I was pretty sure I had a torn muscle in my left shoulder. I wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but I had a pretty good idea who. I just hoped Brown looked worse than I did.

  HE DID, I noted with no small amount of satisfaction. I was making my way through one of Mama D’s huge omelets when Bryan arrived in the RV and Brown climbed out the door. I’d felt the buzz long before they’d arrived. I’d known he was coming, so the feeling of danger that snapped my senses into full alert when I saw him step out of the RV and begin limping toward the house came as a shock.

  “Easy there. He’s on our side, ” Mac cautioned as he reached over to top off my coffee. “At least that’s what he says.”

  The Mustang roared into the driveway and slid to a stop next to the RV, causing Bryan to stop mid-stride. Candice popped out of the driver’s side and I watched as she slammed the car door, ignoring whatever he was telling her as she strode past him and Brown on her way to the house. She disappeared from view seconds before the kitchen door flew open, banging against the wall.

  “You’re up, thank goodness!” She rounded the table and flopped down in the chair next to me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better than I look, but not by much.” The lop-sided smile I gave her dying as Brown walked through the door.

  Tension fairly crackled in the air as my gaze narrowed on him, and he backed toward the door that Bryan had just closed behind them.

  “Taylor.” Mac nudged my leg in warning under the table. He had refused to tell me what had happened until the others arrived. The others apparently, now included Brown, who he had assured me, no longer posed a threat. I’d agreed to hear him out, but that didn’t mean I intended to drop my guard until I had judged that for myself. I nudged him right back, but dialed it back a notch.

  Brown visibly relaxed and moved to take a seat across the room from the table. I watched him pass by the table, limping badly. He was a big man, tall. Mac had said 6’4” and I could easily believe it. He was quite a bit thinner than I’d thought, but then he’d supposedly been being held captive for several weeks. He looked like he’d been beaten with a baseball bat, and I felt I moment of chagrin that I had probably been respo
nsible for that, but it was fleeting at best.

  Caleb Brown had some explaining to do. I could only hope that Mac and Bryan were right in their assessment and Brown was, in fact, on our side. He knew who we were and where to find us, making him a very potent threat.

  “Okay, let’s hear it.” I tossed my fork down, pushed my plate away, finding I’d suddenly lost my appetite. I crossed my arms and leaned back in the chair, never taking my eyes off of Brown. “Convince me you aren’t working for them.”

  “I can’t. I’m a victim here, just as much as you are. More, if the truth be told, but there’s no way to convince you of that.”

  He gave me a look that said it all. If what he said was true, he was indeed a victim. And everything that had happened to him was my fault. His little dig was to remind of that fact, like I needed any reminding. If possible, I disliked him even more than I had before.

  I sat and stared at him, slowly sipping my coffee, letting the silence hang in air. I was perfectly happy to sit there and wait. I’d learned a long time ago that one of the best ways to get the information you needed was to keep quiet. Silence made people nervous. And nervous people talked too much.

  Brown was good, I’d give him that much. He sat and met my stare for longer than most. When he finally started talking, it wasn’t what I had expected.

  “I told them you were in the area. Hughes already suspected. He’s not without talent.”

  I glanced over at Mac. We had figured that Hughes was part of it and Brown had just confirmed it. I just wasn’t quite sure what all ‘it’ entailed.

  Brown got up from his chair, agitated and went to stand by the window, the buzz in my head from him rising sharply. It was a milder version of what I had felt the first time I’d come across him, but still intense. I instinctively flinched, ready for it to go full on, but he reeled it back in. No one else in the room realized what was happening, but I was impressed by the control he could exercise. Especially since I didn’t have it.