The Academy - Forgiveness and Permission (Year One, Book Four)

by C. L. Stone

  “Don’t make me start!”

  I grunted, a low sound at first, that rose in my throat. “North!” I called. “You ... I ...” I wanted to yell some more, but my voice wasn’t going to let me. I couldn’t compete to yell at him at the level he was. When I tried, my throat felt like it was closing in. I coughed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t scream.”

  He flinched. “What?”

  “I can’t scream. I tried. Mr. Blackbourne tested my voice. Something’s wrong with it.”

  North’s eyes zeroed in on my face. “Try it.”

  I rolled my eyes. He didn’t trust me to believe me? I opened my mouth, starting at a normal pitch, and raising the volume. By the time I tried yelling at his level, my voice was done. I swallowed hard.

  His eyes widened. “You can’t even talk loud.”

  “I can’t match your volume,” I said. “Not even close.”

  “Why?”

  “We don’t know,” I said. “Because I’m broken. My mother broke me.”

  A low growl rolled out from North. “That woman isn’t your mother.”

  It was my turn to flinch. “I’m still...”

  “And you’re not broken.” He stepped forward. “You’re ... you ...”

  “What else do you want to know?”

  He glared at me. He mumbled again, formulating half words. He grunted. “I want to know ... if you still like me.”

  “Yes,” I said, not allowing myself to hesitate. “Do you still like me?”

  “Yes,” he said. His shoulders relaxed. This time when he lifted his hands, palms open, he motioned with them. “Come here.”

  I closed the distance between us, glad this part was over. When I got close, he threw his arms around me, pulling me into his body. My arms went around his neck. My fingers dug into his skin as if afraid he didn’t mean it at all.

  He sank until he was kneeling on the concrete, dragging me down with him. He held me in his lap, so tight that it was difficult to breathe. His fingers found my scalp, weaving into my hair to clutch and hold my head close to his chest. He buried his nose in my hair. “Baby, god ... Baby, don’t do that to me. That’s the second time you’ve stopped breathing on me.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” I murmured against his chest. “He was falling in. I was going to lose him.”

  “I almost lost you,” he croaked out. He dipped his head closer, until his lips met with the top of my head. “I already can’t sleep ... I can’t ... Not anymore.”

  “Why can’t you sleep?”

  “I can’t stop watching you.”

  I blinked against his chest, squeezing my arms around his neck. “You watch me?”

  “When you sleep,” he said. He smashed his cheek against my forehead. “I watch you breathing. Unless you’re next to me where I can feel you, I end up awake all night watching just to make sure. ”

  No wonder he’d been so grumpy, before and after the party. “North,” I said, sighing and pulling back until I could look at his deep dark eyes. “You can’t do that.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to start watching you like that. Sometimes I don’t watch. Sometimes I just turn the device in your phone on so I can hear you breathing. I know ...”

  “No, not about watching me. I mean sleeping. You have to sleep.”

  He blinked at me. “You’re not mad?”

  “I’m mad that you’re not sleeping like you’re supposed to. Do you need me to sleep here?” I asked.

  He huffed. He pulled me in close again, burying his lips against my hair. He pulled back again, picking up my hand and shoved it toward his face to kiss the palm. “Sang Baby, I’ll sleep wherever you tell me to.”

  ~A~

  North flicked his phone on for the hundredth time from inside the darkness of Mr. Blackbourne’s car. Sang was still at his house, asleep in his bed, wearing one of his own black T-shirts. He didn’t think all black really suited her that well, but he didn’t own any pink.

  He had thought of the pink blouse she’d left at the diner the night he watched her swing that hammer that almost weighed more than she did. She’d told him to hang on to it for her and he did. It was tucked away in a corner of his closet. It wouldn’t have done any good, anyway. It wasn’t the type of shirt to sleep in.

  And she’d said she liked wearing his shirt.

  “Any word on McCoy?” North asked, breaking the forty minute silence, hoping to pass the time faster.

  “Unfortunately, no. There’s been no sign of him at his home and he’s not answering phone calls to his cell. When he woke up and bolted from the school, he went into hiding. Victor has his home under surveillance. We’re monitoring Mr. Hendricks’s phone. There’s been no sign of him.”

  North grunted. He hated that Mr. McCoy was out there somewhere. They’d lied to Sang, and he hated lying to her. They said she was safe and she wasn’t. She had enough nightmares, though. Telling her Mr. McCoy had escaped wasn’t an option for him.

  He smoothed his thumb over his phone, and out of need, pushed the button again, checking on her. There she was, and Luke was there next to her. If he had to leave her alone now, he needed someone else near her. Even then, he monitored her, trying to catch her body shifting as she breathed.

  “Has the doc mentioned what the blood test results were?” North asked, tired of the quiet that seemed to drag out this long drive.

  Mr. Blackbourne shook his head. “They’ve tested for every known substance. The drug wasn’t Ecstasy. I’m afraid we’d need a direct sample. You probably should have kept the cup.”

  North grumbled. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. She’s not going to another party like that.”

  Mr. Blackbourne frowned. “I don’t entirely disagree with your feelings about those high school parties, but at the same time, she needs to learn to look out for dangers on her own, not just depend on you to think for her. That could have easily been a drink at school, or somewhere else.”

  North flicked the button on the phone again, illuminating his face with her sleeping image. Mr. Blackbourne’s warning didn’t bode well. Despite everything else, they still didn’t know who tried to drug her. He had his suspicions, perhaps Rocky, who seemed interested in getting her to break up with Silas. Luckily, they seemed to have saved her reputation with the football team. Most of the team players agreed that North forced her to kiss him. A lot of them were pissed off at him. He was willing to be the bad guy if it meant Sang wouldn’t have such a hard time at school. If they could get the team to respect her, others might start to back off. Silas had been right. Someone needed to claim her at school because they were starting to notice.

  He’d been miffed that Silas took the opportunity without telling him first. However, Silas was a good choice. He was already becoming respected, which meant if Sang was dating him, most of the guys were less likely to try something. They wouldn’t want to face off with Silas.

  North suspected, though, if something had to change in the future, he wouldn’t hesitate to claim her next time at school if the opportunity arose. If he claimed her, no one would even get close to her. He’d make sure. Even if he had to take Rocky down himself.

  “What do you keep doing?” Mr. Blackbourne asked. “Is someone up? No one’s on assignment tonight.”

  “Checking in on Sang,” North replied, and he flicked the phone off again.

  “What do you mean? Is she awake? It’s a school night.”

  “She’s sleeping.”

  "Isn't someone with her?"

  "Luke's there."

  “Of course he is ...” Mr. Blackbourne paused. His eyes narrowed on the street in front of them as the pieces clicked together. “You’re watching her sleep?”

  North grunted. He knew how he would respond.

  “If Luke is there, what are you doing? You can’t do that to her.”

  “She said I could.”

  “What?”

  North tilted his head toward him. “She
told me I could watch her sleep.”

  “Did she say that or you told her you did it and she didn’t protest?”

  North twisted his lips. It had been both but it bugged him that he was asking. “It’s fine.”

  Mr. Blackbourne shook his head. “You can’t do that to her, North.”

  “I can if she tells me I can.”

  “She’s not some toy you can play with.”

  “I know she’s not a fucking toy.”

  Mr. Blackbourne pulled onto a dark driveway to an estate house on the southern side of Charleston. Mr. Blackbourne stopped the car short of the wide front steps. The ill-lit front porch with two dim outdoor lights around the doors, provided the only light. Inside, the whole upstairs portion was blacked out. The only light inside appeared far away. If it had been any other house, North would have assumed they had the wrong address. With an Academy residence, anything was possible.

  The moment Mr. Blackbourne stopped the car, North opened the door, leaping out. He slammed the door closed again.

  Mr. Blackbourne wedged himself out of the car, slamming the door shut in response. “I mean you can’t do things like that to her and expect her to be okay with it. She shouldn’t have to be okay with this. You need to back off.”

  “I can’t do that,” North said, staring off at the house. He was looking at the house, but he wasn’t really paying attention to it.

  “Why not?”

  North heard Mr. Blackbourne’s words asking him, but for a moment, he was tempted to ignore it. Mr. Blackbourne wouldn’t like his answer.

  He was still distracted, like he’d been for weeks. He was seeing Sang’s face behind his eyes at every turn. He saw those gorgeous eyes and those sweet, delicate lips whenever she wasn't around lately. Ever since kissing her fingers in the back of Silas’s car. Ever since the first time he held her to his chest the night she had that awful nightmare and she’d cried because she was afraid he was mad. Ever since the first time she rode on the back of his bike and she told him about her wobbly legs.

  Ever since he caught her yanking at that damn curtain in the diner’s kitchen and she fell back into his arms.

  “Because I think I love her,” he said, surprising himself with his frankness. He’d had a couple of girlfriends before, one he dated for several months, but he never once said those words. They were special and he was positive, for the longest time, he never would. Never until he meant it.

  Mr. Blackbourne’s face twisted with confusion at him. “What do you mean you love her? Last week you were telling me we should expunge the adoption because you thought she hated you. You wanted her gone.”

  North turned on him, pointing at Mr. Blackbourne from over the car’s roof. “Do you think I’m fucking around?”

  “You tell me, North. You say you think you love her. Last week you thought she hated you. I don't know if I should take you seriously.”

  “I’m not bullshitting here. She’s ... Sang ...”

  “You better not tell her until you know for sure. In fact, I don’t think you should tell her at all. Not now.”

  “Why not? Why can’t I tell her?”

  Mr. Blackbourne’s steel eyes narrowed. “We don’t know what’s going to happen to her yet.”

  “I tell you what’s going to happen,” North bellowed. He couldn’t believe he called him in the middle of the night to disappear on Sang, again, when he thought he finally broke through to her. The only thing that got him moving was that Mr. Blackbourne promised this might be the solution to getting the Academy to fully accept Sang as theirs and not come after her. “We’re going in this stupid place and finding out what we need to know. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll just tell them all to fuck off because she wants to stay with us and they can’t do anything about it.”

  “We don’t know if she wants that.”

  “She says she does.”

  Mr. Blackbourne heaved a sigh. “She doesn’t know she has options.”

  North frowned. He hated that part of the Academy. It was never a concern to him before, because his brother and Silas had rooted him to their group, and now he’d never leave. Sang was still vulnerable. They’d saved her, but they were so busy that he barely got any time with her. Half of the time he ended up yelling at her. It wasn’t the way to win her over so she’d stay forever. “Let’s go inside.”

  Mr. Blackbourne led the way up the wide front porch steps. There was a dim overhead light on above the door and it barely shed enough of a glow to reveal a tiny black button encased in a bronze plate to the right. Mr. Blackbourne pushed at it a few dozen times at random intervals. Random was Academy code. That’s how they worked best.

  They waited in the half dark. North’s fingers massaged the side of his phone, twitching to check on her.

  The sound of footsteps drew his attention to the door. The handle rattled and the door creaked as it swung open. In the doorway was a man about North’s height, with broader shoulders and a two day unshaven mess on top of his square jaw. Part of the hairs on his chin were turning gray, along with the combed back hair at his temples. The rest of his hair was a dark mass, slick as if he’d just stepped from a shower.

  The man squinted out at them. “When you called, I suspected an older group. Not a couple of kids.”

  North parted his lips to retort but Mr. Blackbourne spoke up before he could utter a curse. “Mr. Henry Anderson? I’m Owen Blackbourne. This is Mr. North Taylor. We’ve come to ask you ...”

  “About a bird,” Henry interrupted. He nodded his head, the shadows from his unshaven face deepening with each nod. “I told you that you probably weren’t going to like this.”

  “We need to know.”

  He sighed, opening the door further and stepping aside.

  North followed Mr. Blackbourne inside the shadowy foyer. The floor was cluttered along the walls with a collection of antique furniture. Useless pieces. There were petite chairs and uncomfortable looking benches, along with tiny tables that were barely wide enough to hold a vase of flowers. The stairway was more impressive. The rail was old fashioned, like the house, sturdy and not like the rails built into newer homes.

  He wondered if Silas and he had time to build a better rail for the stairs at Sang’s house.

  North filed the thought off to the back of his mind as he followed Henry through a set of side doors. The room was a library, with a wide marble fireplace, currently lit up with a gentle fire. The room was still oddly cool, and North suspected leaks bringing in the night air.

  “Have a seat,” Henry said, motioning to one of the sofas sitting in front of the fireplace.

  North waited for Mr. Blackbourne to sit first. North planted himself next to him, sitting back, his fingers itching over his phone in his pocket.

  “Not right now,” Mr. Blackbourne muttered his order under his breath.

  North resisted the urge to check on Sang. It was a stupid order. What did Henry care what he did with his phone? He would have assumed North was looking at Academy business. Still, North obeyed. He trusted Mr. Blackbourne enough to listen to him without asking why, even if he allowed himself to commiserate about it.

  “I’d offer you boys a drink,” Henry said, sitting down on the sofa opposite of them. “But I think all we’ve got in the house is bourbon.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Mr. Blackbourne said. “We’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind.”

  Henry waved his hand in the air. “Ask. I still don’t think you’ll like the answer. No one does.”

  North flinched. This wasn’t boding well. “Others have come to you about this?” he asked, not meaning to intervene. He was here to listen, because two people recalling details fared better than one going alone. This was important enough, they should have probably brought Kota as well.

  “Do you think you’re the first pair of dogs I’ve seen coming to ask me about a bird?” Henry grinned, showing brilliant white teeth. “Of course you think you’ve found a bird you want to adopt.”
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  “We mean to try for a closed adoption,” Mr. Blackbourne said.

  Henry nodded. “Yup. You’ve told her this much and it didn’t scare her off. Now you want to keep her. Maybe set her up for training, possibly letting her join sometime in the future. A bird in an all dog squad. How in the world is it done?”

  “You’ve done it,” North said, not liking Henry’s tone as if he knew their group already. He didn’t often meet other Academy members in this way. Usually they were introduced formally by groups they were in partnership with. Not all personalities get along, so it wasn’t a good idea to get clashing groups to work together.

  “Yes, we’ve done it.” Henry frowned. “We’ve done it and I don’t regret it, but I know for sure every other group who has come to me and asked for this secret has always failed.”

  “Why does it fail?” Mr. Blackbourne asked before North could retort.

  “Because it isn’t natural. Normal. Well no, I shouldn’t say that. We’re not normal, after all.” He flashed another smile. “Most of the time they’re young, like you. They don’t know shit about birds. Most of the time the bird flies the coop. The rest ... well ... it’s a dog that runs off with the bird. They opt to join a couple team. And you know how much the Academy loves couple teams.”

  Couple teams were rare, too. It was also one of the only other boy/girl team options available. If everyone in a dog group had a bird pair, it was often the birds that didn’t get along. Trust still became an issue.

  “Why don’t you just tell us what we’re looking at?” North asked, tired of the games. He’d promised Sang he’d be back soon, and this was taking way longer than he expected. He wanted to keep his promise to sleep.

  “What you’re looking at,” Henry said, tensing his back in a stretch, “is something you won’t like and I’m worried you won’t believe me. Or possibly hit me for suggesting it. It’s hard to tell. Especially with the religious groups. They hated it.”

  “Mr. Anderson,” Mr. Blackbourne said, using a hint of command to refocus the conversation. “How did your group succeed in allowing the Academy to grant your bird into an all dog team on a closed adoption and further, as an official member?”