Tortured Souls (The Orion Circle)

by Wheaton, Kimber Leigh

  “Kacie, it’s Gavin,” my brother calls from the other side.

  “Go away,” I call out in a choked sob.” I don’t want to talk right now.”

  I never lock my door. My family always respects my privacy, so I’m astounded when Gavin opens the door. Burying my face in my pillow, I refuse to look up.

  “Please go away, Gavin,” I murmur into my pillow.

  When the door closes, I allow my body to relax, until the bed sags under the weight of a person.

  “Kacie?”

  That is so not Gavin! Turning my tear-stained face toward the voice, I cringe when I see Logan sitting on my bed. He can’t see me like this! My makeup must be running down my face in grotesque smears. I can just imagine how red and puffy my pale skin is.

  “Kacie, I felt your distress before I got halfway home. What happened?” he asks, brushing the hair out of my face.

  When I don’t answer he continues his tender ministrations, tucking the wild strands of hair behind my ears. He grabs the box of tissues from the nightstand and wipes the tears from my face with gentle strokes. When it occurs to me that he’s showing more affection toward me than my mother ever did, fresh tears flow, and I fall into his embrace. He sits beside me not saying anything, just stroking my hair and back while I let out six years of pent up sorrow.

  “I’m so sorry you had to see me like this, Logan,” I mumble when the tears finally stop.

  I pull away and glance at him from under my eyelashes. The look on his face is so sweet and tender it makes my heart flutter.

  “I must look awful,” I say when he takes another tissue and carefully wipes around my eyes.

  “No, you don’t,” he murmurs, his lips curled into a tiny smile. “You’re beautiful. A few tears won’t change that.”

  Grabbing a tissue, I blow my nose before rising and braving a glance in the mirror. It’s not as bad as I thought. My makeup is gone but at least it’s on the tissue and not running down my face. My nose and cheeks are bright red to match my bloodshot eyes.

  “Will you tell me what happened?”

  “How did you know I was upset?” I ask instead of answering his question.

  His gaze meets mine in the mirror. He motions for me to sit down next to him on the bed, and I return to his side. When his arm wraps around my shoulders, I can’t help but snuggle up against him. I feel safe in his arms, something I really need right now.

  “Like I said, I sensed your distress,” he replies, running his thumb along my cheekbone. “I think we connected on a psychic level today and formed a bond. I felt your anguish. It nearly broke my heart.”

  Leaning my head on his shoulder, I let out a ragged sigh. “My mother called. She was worried,” I say, trying to hold the sorrow at bay. “She hasn’t spoken to me in six years since she walked out on us. She talks to Gavin on a regular basis but it’s as if I ceased to exist after that day in the kitchen.”

  “When you thought she saw the spirit you were talking to,” he whispers into my hair.

  “Yes. She called because she’s having disturbing visions about me,” I murmur, my lips brushing his shoulder. “She was psychic all along and pretended otherwise. Let Dad think I was crazy, called leaving a mistake.”

  “She couldn’t handle her own abilities, then to see it happening to you was too much for her,” he says, still stroking my hair.

  “That’s no excuse to abandon your daughter!” I cry out in pain.

  “No it isn’t,” he agrees in a calm tone. “I’m concerned about her visions though, did she elaborate?”

  “No. I yelled at her and hung up before she could say anything about them,” I say, pulling away from him to look at his face. “Do you really think it’s important?”

  “She hasn’t spoken to you in six years,” he says, making me cringe.

  For some reason hearing someone else say it is disturbing. Dad and Gavin always tiptoe around the subject.

  “For her to suddenly call today when you just joined the Circle makes me nervous.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll be hunting with us and it isn’t always safe,” he says, holding my gaze with serious eyes. “If you’re in danger it’d be nice to have more information… especially after what happened last night.”

  “I’m not talking to her!” I insist, pulling away from him in anger.

  He gets off the bed and kneels in front of me, meeting my anger with calmness.

  “I don’t expect you to,” he says, placing his hands on my knees. “Do you think she’d talk to me?” Before I can answer there’s a loud pounding on my door.

  “Kacie, open up,” Dad yells from the other side of the door. “Gavin just told me you have a boy in there. That’s against the house rules.”

  “It’s unlocked,” I call out.

  Logan stays on the floor, and I fall down onto his lap, desperate for the comfort he can provide. I don’t think I can handle a fight with Dad right now. My body is tense and rigid—a sharp blow might shatter me into a million pieces. As Logan wraps his arms around me, Dad opens the door and walks into the room.

  “Nothing’s going on. He’s just comforting me.”

  “I can see that,” Dad says before turning to leave. “Leave the door open,” he adds as he walks into the hall and disappears.

  Logan remains silent, holding me in his embrace. My forehead rests against his cheek.

  “She must care about you somewhere in her heart,” he says, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. “She hasn’t spoken to you for six years out of fear and denial, then out of the blue calls ‘cause she’s having visions. It must’ve been hard for her.”

  “Are you defending her?” I gasp.

  “Never,” he declares. “I just think she cares and perhaps one day you two can reconcile. You never know.”

  “Maybe,” I agree with an ambivalent shrug. “But I kinda doubt it.”

  “We need to find out what her visions are about,” he says, boosting me up to my feet. “We should talk to your Dad or your brother.”

  “They won’t believe any of this,” I murmur, already aware of Dad’s closed mind when it comes to the supernatural.

  “Then we’ll have to make them believe.” He crosses the room to stand at the door. “Coming?”

  Nodding, I follow him out the door and allow him to lead the way down the carpeted hallway to the spiral staircase.

  “I have a feeling you’re selling your father short, that he’ll believe us,” he whispers in my ear.

  “I hope you’re right,” I whisper back, watching him start down the stairs. “I don’t know if I can handle the rejection.”

  He smiles up at me, a brilliant grin, making my heart feel lighter. I can’t help but smile back, a tentative smile but a smile nonetheless.

  “Your smile is contagious,” I say with a tiny laugh. He snorts at me and continues down the stairs.

  Chapter Eight

  Will You Believe?

  Dad and Gavin are sitting together in the family room. A normal scene except the television isn’t on. They must’ve been talking, and I’m willing to bet it was about me. Only a serious issue would keep them away from whatever sports happened to be on. Dad is sitting in his easy chair but isn’t reclined, another hint he’s uncomfortable. Gavin’s on the leather sofa adjacent to Dad, his posture damn near perfect. Gavin never sits without slouching…

  I motion for Logan to sit down at the other end and join him, sitting in the middle, leaning into him a bit. When he puts his arm around my shoulders, I snuggle against him and curl my legs up onto the cushion.

  “I’m Logan Finley,” Logan introduces himself to my father. “I’m a junior at Cedar Meadows.”

  A scowl crosses my father’s face. “You seem awfully friendly with my daughter,” he says in a low voice, a rather comical attempt to appear menacing.

  “Kacie and I have been friends for a couple years,” Logan answers in a calm tone. “Circumstances t
oday have brought us quite a bit closer. She and I share a very special bond.”

  “If you’re going to start talking about psychic powers or similar crap, I don’t want to hear it,” Dad says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Phony, imaginary powers have already broken this family beyond repair.”

  My eyes fill with tears when I realize he’s still closed to the possibility. With supreme effort, I manage to keep them from spilling over my eyelashes. Logan has a calm, agreeable expression on his face, but I can feel his body tense up.

  “You still insist your daughter is either a liar or insane?” Logan asks in a careful, even tone. “That must be very difficult for you.”

  Hot tears trickle down my cheeks at his blunt summation of our issues. I blink several times to keep more from forming.

  “You have no right to come into this house and speak to me like you know anything about our family,” Dad barks at him. “We have managed this situation just fine so far.”

  “No, we haven’t,” I whisper, forcing myself to look at Dad. “You think if you ignore it, it’ll go away. It’s not that easy. I suffer in silence every day, while you go around with your head in the sand. If you cared about me at all, you’d try to open your mind and understand.”

  “I can’t just believe in something I can’t see,” Dad says, throwing his arms in the air.

  “We believe in many things we can’t see,” Logan murmurs while his fingers rub soothing circles on my shoulder blade. “This sofa is covered in dust mites, I can’t see them yet I know they’re there. Our bodies are made up of billions of atoms we can’t see. The universe exists far beyond what we can see with the limited technology we have.”

  “That’s different,” Dad insists with a stony glare.

  “What if I could prove it to you?” Logan asks as he stares down my father. “Would you believe then?”

  “How could you possibly do that?” Gavin asks.

  My heart soars with renewed hope. Gavin wants to believe. I can see it in the excitement in his eyes, the way he leans forward eager to listen.

  “I’m a psychic medium like Kacie,” Logan replies. “Perhaps I can call on one of your deceased relatives and relay a message from them.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Dad scoffs, adding a snort of derisive laughter.

  “Who should I try to contact?” Logan asks with a defiant glare.

  “Fine, contact my sister Constance. She died last year, and I have a few questions for her,” Dad says, radiating skepticism from the sneer on his face to the clenched fist resting on his leg.

  “I banished Aunt Constance from the house,” I admit in a soft murmur. “She wouldn’t leave me alone. Kept saying she needed me to tell some guy named Richie that the treasure is buried under the spider oak. It made no sense and she wouldn’t let me sleep, so I finally convinced her to move on to the next plane.” When I glance up at my father, his face is pale. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

  “Were those her exact words?” Dad asks in a hoarse whisper. “The treasure is under the spider oak?”

  “Well, spirits don’t just talk the way you and I do,” I hedge, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. “Sometimes everything comes out jumbled. But, yeah, that’s what I remember her saying. Why?”

  “It was a game we played when we were kids,” Dad says, running a shaking hand through his dark hair. “The cartoon Richie Rich. I played Richie and she played Gloria Glad. The spider oak was the largest oak tree on our farm. I can’t believe it. I know I never told you this. I had forgotten until now.”

  “Do you think she actually hid something under the tree?” I ask intrigued.

  “I think I’ll go check this weekend,” Dad says, pulling and rubbing at his chin. “It’s still hard for me to accept that you see and communicate with spirits, but after this… There’s no way you could possibly know about it. Constance lived in France for most of your life. I have no choice but to at least try to believe.”

  “I suppose that’s all I can ask for now,” I say with a heavy sigh, too scared to raise my hopes.

  Silence falls over the room. Dad’s starting to believe me. Maybe. And yet, I feel lighter, like a weight I didn’t realize I was carrying has finally been lifted.

  “Mr. Ramsey, earlier this evening your ex-wife called and told Kacie something disturbing,” Logan says, concern radiating from his voice. “She told her she’s having visions of Kacie’s future. Frankly, I’m concerned seeing as she hasn’t spoken to her in years and now she’s calling out of the blue.”

  “I still can’t believe my mother is psychic,” I murmur, leaning my head on Logan’s shoulder.

  “She never said anything to me about it,” Dad says, his face hard and expressionless. I wish I knew what he was thinking. “I couldn’t help but listen to your conversation earlier, so I guess at the very least she thinks she is.”

  “We need to know what those visions are about, sir,” Logan informs my dad. “Kacie’s life could be in danger.”

  “I’ll call and ask her,” Gavin offers with a shrug. “She’ll talk to me.” The way he seems so sure makes me wonder.

  “You knew didn’t you?” I ask Gavin. My stomach clenches at his grave expression. “About our mother’s abilities.”

  “She confessed to me a couple years ago,” Gavin admits so softly it’s almost inaudible. “I can’t say I really believed her, but she knew things she shouldn’t have known.” He looks over at me, his eyes filled with barely disguised anguish. “That’s when I stopped going to visit her unless Dad forced me to. I was so angry for what she did to you, Kacie.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, my voice choked with emotion.

  “By that time, you weren’t showing any signs you still saw the ghosts,” Gavin says with a melancholy smile. “Dad was finally happy again, and I didn’t want to dredge up the past. I thought maybe whatever made you see ghosts had disappeared. I’m sorry. You hid it so well. I didn’t realize you were suffering.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and looks up at me. “Are you ready?”

  When I nod he looks her up in his contacts. She’s not on his favorites list. For some reason that simple fact leaves me feeling a little bit better.

  “Mom, we need to talk,” he says. His words are followed by several seconds of silence. “She won’t talk to you, and I don’t blame her. Tell me about your vision and I’ll relay the information.” He’s silent again while he listens to the woman on the other end. “I’m sorry, Mom, this makes no sense to me. Would you consider talking to Kacie’s friend, Logan? He’s psychic, so he’ll probably understand.” He hands the phone to Logan.

  “Hello, ma’am,” Logan says as he gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Please just tell me the entire vision from beginning to end. Don’t leave anything out.”

  I can hear her voice since my head is resting on his shoulder, but I can’t quite make out the words. Logan places his index finger against his lips then puts her on speaker.

  “…seem like such a nice boy. Kacie can be a strange girl, spends too much time talking to the dead if you ask me. Hopefully it doesn’t scare nice boys like you away.” She prattles on unaware we’re all listening. “My vision is weird, really weird. Kacie’s at this huge house with a group of people. There’s this evil man in a goat head mask. The goat man is holding thirteen lambs against their will. Kacie is the only one who can save those lambs. But she needs the golden angel or she won’t be able to drive away the evil goat man and free the lambs. If the lambs aren’t freed, their souls will suffer for all eternity.”

  She pauses for a moment, and starts humming some unrecognizable tune.

  “Is that it?” Logan asks.

  “The angel has eyes and hair the same color, a golden-brown… like the whiskey in my glass right now.” She stops talking again, probably to drain her whiskey glass. “Even with the angel, Kacie is in danger. The goat man wants to use her body to return to the world of the living. He’ll do a
nything in his power to capture her and wrench her away from the golden angel. The vision always ends with Kacie and the angel fighting the goat man, but I never see the outcome. Oh, and tell Kacie I don’t care what her inner critic thinks. That color fuchsia is beautiful on her.”

  Logan takes the phone off speaker.

  “Thanks, ma’am,” he says in a polite tone. Just a hint of his Texas drawl comes out in the word ma’am. “Please call Gavin if you have any further information,” he adds before he passes the phone back to Gavin.

  “Can’t talk now,” Gavin says into the phone. “Yeah, call if you see anything else. Bye.” He ends the call and stuffs the phone back in his pocket.

  “That was by far the strangest thing I’ve ever heard,” Dad says, shaking his head. “I hate to say it but I think Jessica is hitting the bottle a bit too hard again.”

  Fearing Dad is right, I glance up at Logan to see him staring across the room. His body is rigid and he appears deep in thought.

  “So Kacie has to save some lambs from a goat man,” Gavin says laughing. “Oh and she needs Logan’s help to save the lambs.”

  “Why Logan?” I ask confused.

  “Well he must be the golden angel, right,” Gavin says like it should be obvious to everyone in the room. “He has golden-brown hair and eyes. Well, thanks to Mom, looks like you get to spend a lot more time with Kacie,” he adds with a snicker.

  “Can’t say I’m complaining,” Logan murmurs, his lips curled into a small grin. “The evil man in the mask is most likely an evil spirit, perhaps demonic given the goat head. The thirteen lambs could be other spirits he’s holding captive, keeping them from crossing over—probably children. Of course your father may be right and she’s been hitting the sauce a little heavily. Who knows? We’ll just have to be careful.” His cell chirps and he pulls it from his pocket. “That’s my mom, I gotta go.”