A Cure for Madness

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A Cure for Madness Page 18

by Jodi McIsaac


  “I’ve missed you,” I whispered.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” he said. Then his eyes sparkled. He lowered himself so his head was hovering over my thighs, and nibbled at them through my jeans. He came up a few inches and lifted my shirt so he could kiss my stomach, just below my waistband. I squirmed pleasantly and let out a soft groan.

  Wordlessly, he slid my jeans off. I sat up and tugged my shirt over my head, then started to take off my bra.

  “Let me do that,” he said. He scooted closer to me and gathered me in his arms. He kissed my collarbone, then the tops of my breasts, while behind me his hands were busy with the clasp. “Victory,” he murmured as the bra fell open and he slid the straps down my arms. Then his mouth closed around one of my nipples, and I was done with foreplay.

  “You don’t get to stay clothed,” I said with a wink, pushing him down on the bed and straddling him as I undid his belt. I removed pants, boxers, and socks in one fell swoop, then climbed on top of him, pausing just long enough for him to slip on a condom. My hands dug into his chest as he entered me, and we both held still for a beat, savoring the moment. Then, eyes locked, our hips began to move in the dance we’d only just begun.

  With every thrust he held me closer, his hands locked firmly on my hips. Finally, I felt him spasm under me and cry out, his neck arched and his fingers gripping me even tighter.

  I smiled at him and slid off, preparing to curl up beside him.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, flipping me onto my back. Then he kissed his way down my body, stopping between my legs. I moaned and squirmed and begged him not to stop. He didn’t, not until my whole body convulsed and I fell back onto the pillows.

  “That was . . .” I started, but couldn’t find the words.

  “Even better than last time?” he offered.

  “Mm-hm. You’ve learned some new tricks.”

  “So have you. You’re a lot more . . . aggressive, maybe? In a good way. A very good way.”

  “Call it a boost in confidence,” I said, leaning my head on his chest.

  “Hang on,” he said, getting up and disappearing into the en-suite bathroom. He returned a moment later with a warm washcloth, which he handed to me. We cleaned each other up and then crawled under the covers, our skin still pressed against each other.

  “Kenneth?” I asked, after a few blissful moments of silence.

  “Mmm?”

  “There’s something I haven’t told you. About why I left.” Part of me didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to ruin the moment. But he deserved the truth.

  He rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow, studying me. “What is it?”

  “Do you remember Myles Davidson?”

  He frowned. “Yeah. The mayor’s kid, right?”

  “Right. Before I . . . before you and I slept together, I went out with him. Once.”

  “I remember that, vaguely,” he said, his forehead wrinkling. “You were excited about the date. I was jealous, but then nothing really came of it.”

  Haltingly, I told him what had happened, including the response from the police, my parents—and Wes.

  His expression darkened as I spoke. “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he said when I paused.

  “Thanks. Me too. But the reason I’m telling you is because I want you to know that was why I left . . . It wasn’t because of what happened between us. I just . . . couldn’t handle it all. I thought the only way I could get over it would be to leave. Start fresh somewhere else.”

  I wanted him to wrap his arms around me, but he sat up and drew his knees to his chest, his eyes fixed on the other side of the room. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you tell Latasha?”

  “No.”

  “Can I ask you something else?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why . . . why did you sleep with me, back then, if you didn’t feel the same way I did? I’ve never understood it. Was it . . . a rebound thing? A reaction to what had happened to you?” His voice ached.

  “No. I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “I loved you.”

  “I know. And I think . . . I was starting to love you, too. It scared me. I was overwhelmed by everything. It’s not an excuse for what I did. It just seemed easier to leave than to sort it all out.”

  He nodded slowly but still didn’t meet my eyes. “I understand. It makes . . . much more sense now.”

  “Are you still angry?”

  “God no, especially after what you’ve just told me. I was angry, for too long. I guess I’d convinced myself that you felt the same way I did. Then to find out it hadn’t really meant anything to you . . . It was a hard pill to swallow.”

  “It did mean something to me. I just didn’t know what to do about it. I was afraid of everything back then.”

  He turned to me, cupped my cheek with his hand, then let his fingers trail down my lips and over my neck. “Thank you for telling me. I know how hard it must have been. And Clare . . . it wasn’t your fault. Any of it.”

  “I treated you like shit.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” he repeated.

  We lay back down on the bed, arms and legs tangled like our messy lives. “You don’t seem afraid now,” he said.

  I let out a short laugh. “I am. I’m terrified. But I’m braver now. I think.”

  He kissed my forehead. “You’ve always been brave.” We fell silent, and a few minutes later Kenneth was asleep beside me. I slipped out of bed and pulled on his robe, then tiptoed down the hall to check on Wes. He was asleep on top of the covers, his boots still on his feet. He was snoring softly. I stood and watched him for a moment. His face took on an almost cherubic look in his sleep. I bent down and kissed his head, wrinkling my nose slightly—a shower was in order. But then I untied his black boots and tugged them off as gently as I could and found a spare blanket in the closet that I spread over him.

  Wouldn’t it be odd if the four of us lived together? Kenneth and me, Wes, and Maisie. What a strange family we would make.

  I crawled back into bed beside Kenneth. My body was exhausted—from lack of sleep and the evening’s exertions. But my sex-induced high was wearing off, and my mind was churning like a river in spring. I tried to puzzle it all out—Latasha’s secret document, the dead scientist in the psychiatric hospital, Dr. Hansen’s theory, and the nightmare of Gaspereau.

  I thought back to the roadblock we’d come up against. I’d spoken to Dr. Hansen only minutes before. Could the whole quarantine have been meant for Wes and me, to keep us in town? I shook my head in the darkness. Don’t be paranoid. But so many things didn’t add up. If the army had created Gaspereau, why would they need Wes to help them study it? Wouldn’t they already know all about it? Why would they need to compare it with schizophrenia? How long would they keep coming after my brother? And if they did, how would I keep them from taking him again? I checked my phone; still nothing from Latasha. Worry gnawed at my insides. Where was she? What was happening on her side of the world?

  I finally drifted off to sleep, only to be startled awake several hours later by flashing lights outside the window. I slipped out of bed and peeked through the blinds. Police cars surrounded the house.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Kenneth!” I whispered frantically, shaking him awake.

  “Hmm?” he said, grinning at me sleepily. “Ready for round two?”

  “The police are here!” I hissed.

  He bolted upright in bed and pulled on a pair of pajama pants, then his robe, which I’d slung across the back of a chair.

  “I’ll deal with them,” he said. “You go wake Wes up, but make sure he stays quiet. And don’t leave the guest room.” He hesitated. “Hopefully Maisie won’t wake up. I don’t want to scare her.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Convince them you’re not here, hopefully.”

  A loud knock boomed from the cupid door knocker below
.

  “But our bags! They’re right by the door!” I said with a jolt of panic.

  He grimaced. “Don’t worry. Just go wake Wes up, and stay quiet.”

  I ran across the hallway to Wes’s room and closed the door. As gently as I could, I shook his shoulder. “Huh? Whassaap?” he mumbled, his eyes looking blearier and more bloodshot than normal. I put a finger to my lips.

  “Shhhhh. You have to stay quiet,” I whispered. “The police are here. Kenneth is downstairs talking to them.”

  “Timezit?”

  “Three in the morning.”

  There was another knock, and Wes swung his feet around and sat up on the bed. The stairs creaked as Kenneth walked down them, apparently taking his time. I opened the door of the guest room a crack and sat on the floor so I could hear what they were saying.

  Fear pricked at my spine when the front door opened. Had Kenneth managed to move the bags? “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Kenneth Chu?” a man’s voice came from the doorstep.

  “That’s me,” Kenneth said with a yawn. “Is everything okay, officer?”

  “We’re looking for two individuals, Wes and Clare Campbell. We have reason to believe you might know where we can find them. Here are their pictures.”

  There was silence for a few moments. Then Kenneth spoke. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know where they are. Why are you looking for them?”

  “I can’t disclose that,” the officer said. “You don’t have any idea of their whereabouts?”

  “No,” Kenneth said. “I saw Clare at her parents’ wake the other day, but not since then. What’s this all about?”

  “When you saw Clare, did she indicate any plans, say where she was staying?”

  “I assume she’s staying at her parents’ house. They were recently murdered. I’m sure you heard.”

  “She’s not there. Where do you think she might have gone?”

  “I told you, I have no idea.”

  “Are you going somewhere?” the officer asked. “Looks like you’re packed.”

  “I was going to take my daughter to stay with her mother in Boston. That is, until the quarantine was declared. I haven’t had a chance to unpack yet.”

  “I see. Well, we’d like to search the house, if you don’t mind stepping aside.”

  “I do mind, actually. It’s the middle of the night. My daughter’s asleep, and I just came off a very long shift at the hospital. I told you I don’t know where they are. They’re certainly not here, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I don’t want my daughter to be woken up by police officers tearing our home apart for no good reason.”

  “It can’t wait,” the officer said. “Our orders are to search until we find them.”

  “And who exactly is giving you these orders?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say. You understand that we are in a state of emergency, Doctor?”

  “And even during a state of emergency, you can’t enter private property without a warrant.” There was a pause, then Kenneth continued. “Officer Jackson. You must be Katelynn and Andrew’s father, right?”

  “Yeah,” the officer said, sounding confused. “How do you know . . . ?”

  “I’m your children’s physician. How’s Katelynn’s new puffer working out?”

  “Uh . . . fine. Sorry I didn’t recognize you; her mother takes her to all her appointments. Listen, Dr. Chu, my superior insists we check this place out as soon as possible. But I’ll see if I can delay it until morning so you and your daughter can get some rest.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Kenneth said. He closed the door and bolted it, and then there was the slow creak of stairs as he climbed toward us. I was amazed at how calm he’d been, but when he reached us, he was shaking.

  “Wait,” he mouthed, putting a finger to his lips as he entered the room. I sat back on the bed and took Wes’s hand. I wished I knew what my brother was thinking. He’d sat perfectly still throughout Kenneth’s exchange with the police officer. Even now, he was like a statue. His pale blue eyes stared straight ahead.

  Kenneth brushed aside the curtains and looked down at the street below. Then he turned back to us. “They’re watching the house. A couple of cars left—to get a warrant, no doubt. But you won’t be able to just walk out the front door.”

  “What are we going to do?” I asked. “How’d they find us here?”

  He shrugged. “It’s no secret that we know each other. A dozen people probably saw us together at the hospital.”

  “My parents’ car is parked right outside. Do you think they noticed?”

  “They didn’t say anything, but they could be running the plates as we speak.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to bring this down on you.”

  “How you doing, Wes?” Kenneth asked, watching my brother closely. I put my arm around Wes’s shoulders and squeezed.

  “I knew this would happen,” Wes muttered. “They’ve always been after me. But I’ll go down fighting.”

  Kenneth squatted and looked into Wes’s eyes. “Hang in there,” he said, putting his hand on Wes’s shoulder. “You have to take care of your sister. You can’t do anything stupid. And you can’t let her do anything stupid. She needs you.”

  I opened my mouth to say I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself, but Kenneth shot me a warning glance. “Clare, come help me with the luggage downstairs, please. Wes, can you stay here?”

  Wes nodded mutely and lay back down on the bed, his arms folded across his chest, as though he were laid out in a coffin. He stared, unblinking, at the ceiling. A chill ran down my spine.

  “Is he okay?” I whispered to Kenneth once he had closed the door. He held out a hand to stop me as he headed down the stairs.

  “I don’t really need help with the luggage, but I do need to talk to you. You shouldn’t come downstairs; they might be watching the windows. Go back into my room. I’ll be right there.”

  I did as he asked, peeking in on Maisie as I passed her room. She was sound asleep, her black hair spread out on her pink pillowcase, her rosy lips puckered and slightly open. I’d always dreamed of having a little girl, one with long, dark curls and a wild imagination. But I was afraid I would lose the genetic lottery, that my child would be more like Wes than she was like me. I didn’t think I had it in me to go through what my parents had gone through. It was too great a chance to take.

  A couple of minutes later, Kenneth joined me in his room. I’d left the lights off and was sitting on the floor by the far wall, away from the windows. He set the bags down inside the door and squatted beside me. I leaned against him, letting him support me. “Do you think they’ll really come back with a warrant?” I asked.

  “I think that depends on how many strings your friend Stuart Hansen can pull. I’m pretty sure I saw him in one of those cars outside the house.”

  “We’re trapped, aren’t we? They’re going to take him back.”

  “There might be a way I can get you both out of here,” Kenneth said. “But then you’d be on your own. I have to stay with Maisie; I can’t come with you.”

  “Of course not. But how? You said they’re watching the house.”

  He went to the closet and grabbed two large backpacks, which he tossed to me. “Put your things in these. They saw the other bags, so you’ll have to leave them here.” He paused. “You asked if Wes is okay. He isn’t. He needs his medication or things might start to go downhill very quickly. If he gets to the point of full-blown paranoia, it might be very dangerous for you. Do you know what he’s taking?”

  I shook my head. I’d never made it to see the pharmacist, and the family meeting had been canceled. I had no idea.

  “I’ll go get him,” Kenneth said, leaving the room. He returned with Wes a moment later. Wes looked alert and on guard—and more than slightly twitchy.

  “Do you know what your medication is called, Wes?” Kenneth asked him, taking a prescription pad out of the drawer of his desk.
>
  Wes gave him a name, and Kenneth scribbled on the pad, then ripped off the top sheet and handed it to me. “I don’t know how serious they are; they might have sent an alert to all the pharmacies in town to keep an eye out for Wes. But I don’t like your chances without it. Get the meds, and then get out of here.”

  “You still haven’t told us how we’re going to do that,” I said.

  “I’m going to drive you out,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I think it should work,” he said. “I’m a doctor, remember? I’m on call. It’s totally normal for me to leave in the middle of the night.”

  “But what about Maisie?” I asked. The last thing I wanted to do was put his daughter in danger.

  “I’ll take her to my mother’s.”

  “And then what?” I asked, confused.

  “And then you and Wes will take my car, and I’ll lie low at my mom’s.”

  “And you’ll use her car?”

  “That’s right. The town is falling apart, in case you haven’t noticed. The cops have better things to do than follow me around once they realize you’re not here. Just hide out for a bit. You should be able to come back once the heat dies down.”

  I glanced at Wes, who was looking at Kenneth with a kind of respect. “Cool plan, man,” he said. “It’s like a movie or something.”

  “Or something,” I muttered. “I don’t know, Kenneth. You could get into a lot of trouble.”

  “Come on,” he said, ignoring me. He pulled on a white lab coat from his closet. “I’ve closed all the blinds, but don’t get too close to the windows, just in case.”

  Walking as silently as we could, we followed him down the stairs and toward the attached garage at the back of the house. Inside the garage was a set of golf clubs, a stack of winter tires, a couple of bikes, and a Volkswagen Passat.

  He lifted up the trunk of the sedan. “Let’s get you situated, then I’ll go wake up Maisie. It’s not going to be comfortable. But it won’t be for too long.”

 

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