Extrasensual Perception

by Rayna Vause

  “Ang, you know how he is. Ever since Mom—”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” Angie’s expression set.

  The growl that emerged from her made Chris take a step back. He’d never seen Angelica this angry, and he didn’t want to see it ever again.

  She rose, stiff as a steel girder. “Well, thank you for letting me know. I’ll make sure club security knows to stay vigilant.”

  “Angie.” Jack crossed to his sister and hugged her. She remained rigid in his arms for a moment, then sagged. “I love you and we’re here for each other. That’s all that matters.”

  She buried her face against his chest. “Love you too.” Her voice wavered. She clung to her brother a few moments longer, then took a deep breath and stepped back, smoothing her hands over her hips. “I’m not going to let him upset me. Let’s just find Kyle and end this.” Angelica pivoted and marched out of Jack’s office.

  “Ang, don’t do anything crazy.”

  “Would I do that?” she yelled from the hall.

  Jack watched her go and his shoulders sagged. “I’m going to have to watch her like a hawk.”

  Chris walked to him and rubbed his back. “I don’t understand how a father can do that to his kids. How can he just walk away?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care. I just want this to be over, once and for all—everything. Kyle, the threats hanging over us, and Dad’s presence shadowing us. Every time we think we’ve finally closed that door, finally cut him out of our lives, something happens. And every time, it leaves both of us raw, especially Angie. He’s never going to change. He’s never going to want us in his life again. We’re the constant reminder of what he lost when our mother died.”

  “I’m sorry.” Chris’s heart broke for Jack. Loss made people do crazy things, but abandoning your children when they’re hurting too? He hoped Jack’s father rotted.

  Jack shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  “No it’s not. It’s hard and it’s painful and it always will be. I wish I could change that for you.” Chris wrapped his arms around Jack, holding him. Offering the support Jack gave to so many. For one minute, Jack allowed himself to be the one that leaned.

  Jack pressed a soft kiss to Chris’s lips. Then he stepped back, tugged on his suit jacket to straighten it, and squared his shoulders.

  Chris understood the shift and decided not to push. He got to business—something Jack could appreciate and be distracted by. “So how do we catch Kyle?”

  “I wish I knew, but I don’t even have a clue where to start looking for him. Connor is searching, and I’m hoping he comes up with something.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Stay safe. Kyle is angry enough to come after everyone I care about. Don’t take any chances, especially when you’re coming and going from the hotel. Your mother is here and tucked into her suite?”

  “Yes, she’s tucked away nice and safe, and making plans to run up a room service bill.”

  A small smile tugged at the corner of Jack’s mouth. “Good. Glad to hear she’s well. Still, I’m going to get you a security escort, and I’m going to put my car at your disposal if you should need to leave the hotel for any reason. Most important of all, everyone checks in before they go anywhere. I’m not going to give Kyle any opportunities if I can avoid it.”

  “We’ll find him and stop him. We won’t let him hurt anyone else.” Chris linked his fingers with Jack’s and the vision slammed into him.

  He saw Angelica’s office, a brown cardboard box, and then the blinding white light of an explosion. Finally, he saw Angie lying burned and bloody on the floor.

  Chris clamped his hand down on Jack’s. His heart thundered in his chest. His brain stopped functioning and he fought past the sludge to burst into desperate motion.

  “We need to get to Angelica now.” Chris started for the door as he pulled out his cell phone to call her. “Come on Angie, pick up the damn phone.”

  Jack didn’t hesitate to follow. “What’s wrong? What did you see?”

  “A package is about to get delivered to Angie’s office. It’s a bomb.”

  They rushed out of the office to the elevator, and Jack used a key to turn the elevator car into an express to the ground floor. Chris tried Angelica again. No answer. “Shit, shit, shit!”

  When the doors slid open Jack all but dragged Chris along. “How the hell does a bomb even get through the mail? Isn’t everything x-rayed?”

  “I don’t know, but just now I saw a package, Angie’s office, and a massive explosion.”

  They raced through the lobby of the hotel, weaving around patrons taking their leisurely time. When they reached the walkway to the club Chris stopped short.

  “The mail room?” Chris wondered aloud.

  Jack’s eyes went wide. “You’re right. It might not have gotten to her office yet.”

  “You go there. I’ll keep heading to Angie’s office.”

  Jack frowned and started to argue.

  Chris gripped Jack’s arm. “Splitting up will get this done faster and I don’t know where the mail room is.”

  Jack glared at him. The muscle in his jaw jumped. “Fine. Just be careful.” Despite having a lobby full of people looking on, Jack grabbed him, kissed him hard and fast, and took off.

  Chris turned back toward the walkway. He resisted the urge to run, not wanting to cause a panic in the crowded area, but something told him he needed to get to Angelica. Now. He pushed through the entrance to the main club floor.

  Luckily the late afternoon hour meant the club wasn’t in full swing yet. He stopped long enough to grab one of the bartenders and instructed him to quietly evacuate the building. As he ran up the stairs into Angie’s office, he ignored the odd glances from the few patrons starting their evening early.

  “Angie, have you gotten any—oh shit!” Chris’s stomach dropped.

  Angelica stood there looking at him like he’d lost his mind, holding the box from his vision.

  “Ang, freeze.”

  No questions asked, she stopped cold.

  “I need you to set the box down and get out of here. Then we need to call Connor and the bomb squad.”

  “Bomb squad!” she squawked.

  “No questions. Just do what I say.”

  She nodded.

  “Very carefully set the box down.”

  Angelica held the box straight out in front of her. Chris slid his hands underneath the box to help her. As they slowly started to lower the box onto her desk, a loud click sounded.

  “What was that?” Angie whispered, freezing in place, the box still a few inches from the desk.

  Chris moved his hands from the bottom to the sides of the box. He brushed against the bottom in his haste. A second later, a countdown timer flashed in his mind. Ten seconds left.

  “Drop it, Angie. We need to get out of here! The timer activated. Move!”

  She set the box down, and he yanked her across the long office toward the door.

  “Move your ass, Angie. Time’s almost up. It’s about to blow!”

  Together they rushed to the door, but they weren’t quite fast enough. A loud roar deafened him. The concussion of the explosion propelled them forward. Chris lost his grip on Angie as he slammed into the wall. Blinding white light flared behind his closed eyes. Heat rushed over his skin and debris dug into his flesh. Pain, sharp and bright, spiked into his body. Then the world went dark.

  KYLE sat on his lumpy used couch. A half-empty bottle of rum dangled from his hand.

  “Cheers, Jack! I hope you enjoyed my little fireworks display. Every carnival needs fireworks, right?”

  He cackled. Then he knocked back the last of the rum, letting it burn its way down his throat. Kyle rubbed his fingers together, recalling the feel of the detonator in his hand. He remembered the ringing in his ears after the explosion boomed through the club. The flash of light disappointed him—the one-way privacy glass had obscured his view.

  “My plan was perfect.
Perfect. I timed it all perfectly. I counted on him getting a vision in time to get to Angelica just before the bomb blew. It should have taken out that damn psychic and Angelica in one shot. He keeps messing up my plans!” He tugged at his hair with both hands.

  “It should have been a two-for-one special.” He huffed out a laugh at his own joke, then shrugged. “Still fun, though.”

  He blew across the open mouth of the glass bottle, and the low whistle echoed in the room and vibrated through him. Then he hurled the bottle across the room. It slammed against the wall and shattered. He sighed. Tension drained from his body.

  “I may have missed, but neither is unscathed. It’s better than nothing. But not enough. He needs to suffer. More. Suffer as I have. You brought this on yourself, brother of mine. The day you betrayed me, the day you stole my life, you brought this on yourself.”

  Time to end this once and for all. Time to go home.

  Chapter Nine

  HE fell through the darkness—a freefall that ended when he plunged into frigid water. The impact stole his breath. The water sapped the heat from his body. Pain radiated from his shoulder as he attempted to fight his way to the surface. Netting around his legs held him down. As his vision began to go dark, a hand thrust into the murky water from above. He reached up, fingers almost touching that offer of help, that life-saving gesture, when light flooded his vision.

  Chris groaned. Unlike his previous dreams, the pain didn’t leave his body along with the haunting vision. When he shifted, all of his muscles piped up and complained and his head throbbed.

  “Shit.”

  “Don’t try to move.”

  A hand gripped Chris’s. He opened his eyes, then slammed them shut when bright light assaulted him. He waited a beat and tried again, opening his eyes to narrow slits. His blurry vision began to clear, and shadowy blobs took shape. He squinted at fluorescent lights and speckled drop ceiling tile. To one side of him stood a metal IV pole. All-too-familiar beeps and buzzes sounded, reminding him of his time in the hospital after his mother’s stroke.

  “Hey. You’re back with me? You had me worried.”

  “Jack?” Chris turned his head, moving slowly. Chris looked into eyes that flitted between relief and worry.

  Jack clutched his hand and rested his forehead on their interlocked hands.

  Hair, disheveled from continuous raking, tickled Chris’s arm. Dried blood speckled his clothes and skin.

  Chris threaded his fingers into Jack’s hair. “Are you okay?”

  Jack’s head shot up, his eyes wide. He snorted out a breath. “I wasn’t the one in a bomb blast. The more important question is how are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been kicked by a giant mule.” He croaked out the words.

  “Close. You got slammed into a wall and tumbled down the stairs.”

  Rapid-fire images of racing to Angelica and finding her with the bomb in her hands flashed through his mind, sending his heart rate into overdrive. He recalled the blast force propelling him and Angelica forward and the heat of the explosion burning his skin. The sting of cuts from flying debris, the impact of his body against the door all came roaring back. Then darkness. That’s where the memory stopped. He didn’t remember the tumble down the flight of stairs.

  His hand slid out from under Jack’s and clamped down on his wrist.

  “Jack, please tell me Angie is alive.”

  “She’s alive. But she hasn’t woken up yet. You got her far enough away from the blast to survive it, but she has a number of nasty burns and lacerations. The worst is how hard she hit her head. They’re doing all manner of scans, and there’s some swelling, which has them concerned.”

  Chris stared up at the ceiling, eyes burning, breath damming in his chest. “God, Jack. If I’d only been faster. Gotten the vision sooner. I feel like I keep saying that to you.”

  “It’s not your fault, Chris. I know I’ve said that before, and I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.”

  Chris snorted and covered his face with his hands. “Someone wants to know if they’re going to get a fucking promotion, I’m your guy. But the important stuff? I’m too little, too late all the time.” He slammed a hand against the bed and moaned as the sudden sharp movement sent another wave of pain through him.

  “Stop. Just stop.” Jack leaned over carefully and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Chris’s lips.

  When Jack pulled back, their gazes met. “It was him, had to be, and he had to have been in the club.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  “The timer. After I got to Angie’s office, I heard a click and a vision flashed into my mind. I saw a timer counting down from ten seconds. He had to have been there to know when to engage the timer. He couldn’t know precisely when the bomb would get to Angie. He must have been watching. I’d been so focused on getting to her and getting the club clear, I never picked up anything. I’ve done it before, felt his anger.”

  “What else? Did you see anyone that looked off or out of place?”

  “I don’t think so. Everything happened so fast. I didn’t have time to think or look. I-I’m sorry.”

  Jack took his hand again and linked their fingers together.

  “No, that’s great. That information will be a huge help, and I promise you, this is not your fault. Leave the blame where it belongs.” He squeezed Chris’s fingers. “I’m glad you were there to save Angelica. If not for you, she could have been holding that box when it exploded.”

  Chris gave Jack a weak smile and squeezed his hand.

  “You should know that no one else was hurt.”

  Chris closed his eyes as a bit of the stress of the day dropped off of him. Then with a groan and slow careful movements, he started to push himself upright.

  “What are you doing?” Jack put his hands on Chris’s shoulders.

  “I’m going to see Angelica.”

  “No you’re not. You’re going to stay right here until the doctors clear you to leave.” Jack looked at him through narrowed eyes, his jaw set, stubborn determination in every line of his body.

  “I’m sore, but I’ll be fine. It’s Angelica I’m worried about. She shouldn’t be up there alone.”

  “She isn’t, Connor is with her. But you’ve got more than a paper cut, you know. You need to take it easy for a couple days, and I’m damn well going to make sure you do.” Jack eased Chris back down on his hospital bed. His light caress lingered, sending subtle waves of pleasure through Chris’s abused body.

  “Jack, I don’t need a keeper.” Chris closed his eyes and drew in a breath. He’d never admit it, but just this once, he liked having someone take care of him. He liked not having the weight of his world on his shoulders.

  “You don’t need a keeper, but you’re just going to have to deal with the fact that I care about you and it kills me to see you hurt.”

  Warmth flooded him at Jack’s words even as his body and mind grew heavy. Sleep started to drag him under, away from the aches and pains that throbbed through him. Then the chime of his cell phone drew him back toward consciousness. Chris dragged his eyelids open and started to reach for his phone, then swore as, again, pain speared through him.

  “Stay still. I’ll get this.”

  Chris closed his eyes and let his mind float as he listened to the low rumble of Jack’s voice speaking to the caller. He furrowed his brow when an undercurrent of concern slipped into Jack’s tone.

  “Who is it? What’s wrong?” He tried to clear the fog from his mind.

  Jack placed a hand on his chest to keep him from trying to sit up again. He threaded his fingers into Chris’s hair, massaging to try and keep him calm.

  “That was your mother’s health aide.”

  Chris’s eyes flew open and he lifted his head to meet Jack’s eyes. “What? What’s wrong with my mom? Tell me.”

  “She’s downstairs in the emergency room getting admitted into the hospital.”

  His head dropped back onto the pillow as te
nsion surged through his body. “Shit. What else can go wrong?”

  JACK and Chris got back to the hotel late that evening. They hadn’t wanted to leave Angelica, but the nurse had chased them out with assurances to notify them of a change in her condition.

  They had seen Chris’s mom. She’d been none too happy to have to trade her luxury suite at the hotel for a small, noisy hospital room yet again. Only my mother would be more upset about the accommodations than about developing a case of aspiration pneumonia. Chris would have stayed at the hospital with her as well, but she assured them she would be fine and shooed them out of her room and back to the hotel.

  Chris leaned against the wall of the elevator as the weight of the day all but made his knees buckle. “God, Jack. I don’t know how much more I can handle.”

  Jack wrapped Chris in his arms. “I’m here, you know. You can lean on me.”

  “Everyone already does that. I don’t want to be another burden you have to carry.”

  “Never. You’re capable of standing on your own two feet. I know that. But we can lean on each other now.” The elevator doors slid open.

  Chris leaned against Jack as, arms around each other’s waists, they made their way down the hall to Jack’s suite. They headed straight for the kitchen. Chris leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. An image of Angelica lying in that hospital bed projected in his mind. She lay so pale and still, swathed in bandages. The slow, steady beep of the heart monitor the only indication that she lived.

  His mother popped into his head as well, coughing, annoyed to be back in the hospital. A smile tugged at his mouth. Only his mother could make him laugh in the face of illness.

  He opened his eyes, trying to chase away the memories, and found a bottle of water being held out to him.

  “I could use a beer.”

  “You get water. Especially with the pain meds in you.”