Zack continued to stand quietly, about twenty feet behind Mandy, trying to determine the best course of action. Should he leave her alone for a while or would she want his support? Unable to stand her anguish any longer he decided to approach her and hoped she wouldn’t push him away. He didn’t want anything from her right now. All he wanted was to offer his help, his arms, and his love.
To his surprise, even before he took his first step toward her she quietly asked, “How’s Tony doing?” His eyebrows shot up and he froze again, wondering how long she’d known he was there.
Shaking himself out of his frozen posture he continued the few feet to her side stepping over the log she sat on and lowering himself to sit beside her on the opposite side from where David had been. For some reason it felt wrong to sit where David had just seconds ago, too stark a reminder for Amanda that Zack was more than ready and willing to take his place. He felt it would be like rubbing salt in a wound.
“Tony is going to be fine. He’ll need a hell of a lot of stitches, in more than a few places, and surgery on his arm and ankle. I’m pretty sure he’s got two or three fractured ribs too. He was lucky it wasn’t far worse.”
He held out a hand to her, wanting to ease her pain, but knowing she didn’t want him to hold her. She needed a little space.
“Let me help you, Mandy,” he stated gently. “I know you’re torn up inside. I feel exactly what you do, remember? Don’t bother telling me you’re fine. I know better.”
She stared at his hand trying to determine if she did need, or want, his help. She felt weak for accepting it, yet couldn’t deny that she needed him right now. She felt like she was breaking into pieces. Chuckling sadly she joked, “I guess I can’t take the antidepressants now, can I?” referring to her pregnancy.
Zack shook his head. “Sorry, babe, no.” Still he waited for her to give him her hand.
She took a deep breath and placed her hand in his. “It’s just you and me now, Zack. Are you sure this is what you want: a pregnant, half crazy, psychic, grief-stricken widow, with a horribly weak stomach?” The humor she endeavored to inject didn’t come off quite the way she wanted it to, but she tried.
“I think you meant to say a wonderfully gifted and caring woman, who I happen to adore and who is carrying my children. A woman who is going through some tough times but is recovering with the help of her future husband.” He had to get his licks in somewhere, he thought. “And who has a horrendously weak stomach.” He grinned at the last statement which couldn’t be truer.
“May I?” he asked again, checking for her permission to help ease her pain. He was incredibly worried about the added emotional strain and the impact on the babies. Her life seemed to be a constant state of emergency. Good thing she had him, he thought, with some well-deserved self-praise.
“You know you saved my life today?” she asked him, and then choked on a laugh when an errant sob broke through it, and he looked extremely perplexed. His brows were drawn together and his mouth quirked to one side.
“Huh?” What the hell was she talking about? She was the one who had made him pull over so they wouldn’t become road kill! He swallowed hard at the image his mind conjured up at the thought.
“If you hadn’t been with me, I would have been killed in that accident.” Again he gave her a quizzical look. Stroking her fingers down his cheek she reminded him, “I wouldn’t have seen it in order to pull over, remember? I only saw it because it involved you. So, I guess I should thank you for banning me from being behind the wheel this week.”
“Maybe fate was trying to straighten things out.” She heard herself say almost philosophically and without any emotion at all. “I keep slipping through the Reaper’s fingertips. I wonder when he’ll catch up with me.” She gazed away, seeing nothing, but wondering if she were indeed destined to die in a truck accident. This was becoming a little too much like that teenage horror flick, Final Destination. Death kept coming for her.
She watched him pale and felt him shudder. He dropped her hand and dragged her onto his lap. Holding her tightly against him she thought she heard him whisper, “Dear Lord! Not Mandy! You cannot take Mandy!”
Amanda muttered angrily, “Zack, God doesn’t care what we want. He has a plan and we’re to live, or die, according to it.” She began to shiver uncontrollably with chills though the temperature was in the high eighties, even in the shade.
Zack was struck speechless, for a couple of reasons. First, because her bitterness was so overpowering that his senses felt momentarily drowned in it, and second because he didn’t know that he could refute what she’d said. It wasn’t like he was in regular communication with the Almighty, at least not the two-way kind where he heard a voice from a burning bush.
Finally, he settled on gently reminding her that the day had been shock on top of shock and that she might not be thinking clearly. With that he decided that enough was enough and he lightly sedated her senses, or rather he tried to. At the first wave of influence from him her mind locked down, refusing to allow him entry.
Strangely, Amanda said nothing. She was still tucked against him staring off into the forest, deep in her morbid thoughts. No one ever would have known she was in the middle of a mental war of wills. He tried unsuccessfully for several minutes to gain ground and he couldn’t budge her. What the hell? She didn’t seem to be actively fighting him, but there was suddenly a wall there she had subconsciously constructed to protect herself.
“Amanda, you need an opportunity to mentally regroup. Stop fighting me, please!” he implored.
“What? I’m not doing anything.” She yawned, stretched, and scooted off his lap. She was so frigging tired. Standing, she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering once again. “Can we please…just go? I need to lay down. I don’t feel so good.”
She rubbed her temples vigorously, trying to assuage her oncoming headache. It wasn’t a migraine, just pressure building, building. Must be my sinuses, she thought. After another few seconds the pressure began to alleviate itself and she breathed a sigh of relief. It had felt like her head would explode and now it was a little better.
As he eyed her pale face in concern a trickle of blood ran from her right nostril and he shot off the log like someone had forcefully propelled him. Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket he pressed it to her nose to stop the bleeding, praying they wouldn’t have a recurrence of yesterday’s problems.
“Zack!” she complained. “I’m fine! I’m actually even beginning to feel a little better. The pressure in my head is easing up.”
“You’re bleeding again,” he told her calmly, though he felt anything but. He was also thinking pressure? What pressure? Before it finally clicked that that was what she felt before the bleeding began. The pressure was the….the psychic energy? Was it a type of backlash? Could it be? His mental processes locked up at the idea. Like, too much mental pressure or expenditure, and boom?
Christ Almighty, no wonder she’d had a seizure yesterday. How much could her brain handle? Her abilities were still evolving. For the most part they had grown abruptly, and exponentially, over the past two months. What would happen to her if they didn’t slow down, stop? What if she couldn’t handle all that energy, if she couldn’t channel it properly? Was this why David insisted Amanda be with him? Had he known this would happen? Oh hell. Yes, he had. Zack remembered their conversation of just a week ago, it seemed like much longer than that, a lifetime within a week.
“Again?” She looked puzzled. When had she been bleeding earlier?
“Like yesterday,” he slowly admitted and she noted that while his face remained stoic and impassive his eyes told of the depth of his concern.
“Let me see,” he grasped her chin tilting her head back to check both nostrils. “Damn it!” he exclaimed. His air of calm was gone as he pinched her nose more firmly.
“Give me that!” She took the handkerchief from him, pulling it away from her nose. As soon as she did the flow of blood picked up to a steady drip,
drip, drip. She quickly pressed it back against her nose and looked at him fearfully.
“Isn’t this what happened yesterday? Just before I…?” she couldn’t finish that statement thinking that simply saying the words might make it happen.
“Sit down!” he ordered anxiously. If she had a seizure out here God only knew what he’d do. Two in twenty-four hours and he would have to admit her to the hospital and what the hell would they do? There was no fucking fix for psychic overload! He’d never felt so helpless in his life. He couldn’t fix this if Amanda wouldn’t let him in, and there was no doubt it was escalating.
She was still standing there despite his telling her to sit down so he picked her up and cradled her in his lap. “Mandy, please babe, let me in. Cooperate so I can help you shut this down before it gets any worse.” He begged her in a voice hoarse with concern.
“I wasn’t trying to keep you out before! And, would you stop treating me like a child! You’re forever picking me up and carrying me! Telling me what to do! I don’t need a Goddamn father, Zack. I’ve gotten through my entire life without one!” she shot back, her anxiety causing her to become truculent. She arched her back and squirmed, trying to free herself from his arms and the more she squirmed the tighter his grip became.
“Let. Me. Go!”
She’d dropped her hand from her nose and now the drip had turned into a steady flow. Gripping her hair in one fist he forcefully tipped her head back and pinched her nose between his fingers as she spluttered to a halt.
“I’m sorry, Amanda. Really, I am. But if you don’t want me to treat you like a child then you need to stop behaving like one!” When he worried, he yelled. He still needed to work on that character flaw, he reminded himself.
“Would you please calm down for me? We’ll fix this,” he said more quietly, lest he set her off again. “I want you to close your eyes and relax. Concentrate on my voice and open your mind. Remember when I stitched your leg how you had to stop fighting me? I know you’re not doing it deliberately this time, but the same principle applies. You need to give me control on a conscious level if you want to stop this from happening, again.”
Okay, now he had her complete attention. She did not want to have another seizure and she could feel the blood now also beginning to ooze from one ear as well. She closed her eyes and took deep calming breaths through her mouth because Zack was holding her nose. Fearful of letting this go any farther she made herself let go of her insecurities and tore down the wall, allowing Zack to creep in.
She heard his deep sigh of relief and felt a warm flood of calming emotions wash through her. She felt herself floating away and knew Zack had overdone it, and then nothing…
Chapter 18:
R & R
“Amanda?” she felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder. “Mandy, honey? Wake up, babe.” His quiet voice slowly penetrated her fogged brain.
“Mmmm.” She stretched and rolled over without opening her eyes. Feeling him next to her she snuggled into his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his waist, and tried to settle back into her drowsy slumber. She heard Zack chuckle and felt his arms slip around her and tighten, holding her fast to his side.
“Gonna wake up? Dinner’s ready,” he murmured in her ear and ran his mouth down her collar bone leaving a simmering trail of kisses in his wake, and she felt a spark of desire arch through her.
Still not willing to open her eyes she huskily asked, “Dinner? What time is it?”
“Six o’clock.”
“What?” Her eyes flew open then and she found herself disoriented. She blinked a few times while she looked around her. They were at Zack’s.
She sat up quickly and felt a rush of vertigo. “Whoa!” She put a hand to her head and closed her eyes again, waiting for her head to stop swimming. She felt his hand on her back steadying her until she got her bearings.
“I thought you were taking me home?” She vaguely remembered a disconnected conversation they’d had in his truck when they had returned to it and discovered it would be hours before the road was cleared.
Trying to halt the physical problems caused by the excessive mental stimuli, he’d accidently knocked her out, sending a much stronger push at her due to his own anxiety over her condition. As a result she never had come around the whole way. She’d stumbled her way out of the forest heavily leaning on him for support. The entire way out he’d done nothing but apologize. She hadn’t been angry, she’d just wanted the bleeding to stop and it had. She had been a little annoyed to find it so hard to shake the after-effects though. The entire day felt unreal.
Her memory caught up with her and she felt a sharp stab of pain remembering David was gone for good. It was a different sort of pain than the constant deep nagging ache she’d had before. It was quick and painful but it also dissipated to a tolerable background level after a couple of seconds. She could tell Zack was feeling it with her because he smiled encouragingly when he felt the difference too.
“I did say I was taking you home.” He sat up beside her and took her hand. “I want you to consider this your home, too, Mandy.” He felt her withdraw. Pushing, pushing, he told himself again.
“I have a home, Zack,” she told him quietly but firmly. At least until it sells. He was not going to railroad her into moving in with him. She saw a flash of hurt cross his face but it was quickly suppressed.
“I know that, Amanda. I’m simply saying that I want you to feel at home here, too. I’m not saying we have to rush anything or that you have to move in with me anytime soon. I’m only saying you’re welcome here, and that I want you to feel comfortable treating my place like it was your own.” He backed off feeling her confusion and frustration.
God love him. He was trying so hard to give her what she needed while trying to meet his own desires, too. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, wanting her with him while trying not to drive her away by pressuring her too much.
Diane’s words suddenly came to mind. “Zack’s been in love with you for more than four years…” She needed to remember that the pace that seemed so incredibly fast to her must seem like a slow and torturous process to him. The guy ought to be nominated for sainthood!
“Let’s go eat. You’ve got to be hungry,” he stood up and tugged on her hand.
“Give me a couple of minutes. I need to go to the bathroom and clean up a little bit. What are we having by the way?” she asked curiously. “Since I know for a fact you can’t cook, should I worry?” She teased him, trying to alleviate the tension.
“I think you’ll be safe,” he told her jokingly. “I picked up some Mexican while you were sleeping. Is that okay? I know Di’s made it when you’ve been over so I figured you liked it. I ordered some steak and chicken enchiladas, refried beans, and rice. There are some chips and salsa too. Food’s in the oven keeping warm.”
He looked so hopeful she had to laugh, though she felt a lump form in her throat that he’d paid that much attention over the years. “Mexican is great. I’m starving!”
* * * *
Before dinner she’d been touched when he’d directed her to one vanity and showed her a drawer filled with personal items for her use. Gesturing, he said, “For when you stay the night. Feel free to leave whatever you’d like to here, maybe even a few changes of clothes? There are several empty drawers in the dresser, and of course there’s an entire closet, too.” He’d stated this simply and shrugged very casually, as if it was unimportant. His eyes had said much more, like he wished she’d stay every night, forever, but he curtailed the comment.
By the time she joined him, bladder emptied, hair twisted into a loose knot, and teeth brushed, she felt more human. There was a nice spread on the counter and he handed her a plate and told her to “load up” with as much of whatever she liked. Choosing a chicken enchilada she topped it with a dollop of sour cream and added some rice on the side. Only after she’d eaten at least half her meal did he venture into any serious discussion of his theory as to why she was experien
cing pressure and bleeding.
“You were overloaded on an extreme scale yesterday with the mass visitation and with the draw my family and I had on you, and that resulted in an obvious meltdown, right?”
She nodded. “Okay, I’m with you so far.”
“Today, before you’ve had an opportunity to recoup, you’re slammed with precognitive flashes.”
She shuddered, remembering the vision that could have gone so very differently. Staring at her food she lost her appetite and began listlessly pushing it around her plate before dropping her fork onto it.
Feeling his hand on her arm she looked up. “We’re still alive, Mandy, because of you. All of us are alive, because of you.” He reached over and briefly placed his hand on her belly. “Come on, eat while we talk and stop thinking about what didn’t happen.”
“So anyway, too much stress yesterday, no chance to recover, new visions, and then…” He stopped, trying to feel his way through a potential mine field. He desperately wanted to know her thoughts about David’s farewell but didn’t want to drag her through it if she wasn’t ready. She felt steady but fragile.
“And…” she whispered, “then David.”
“Yes,” he replied, waiting.
“Why don’t you just ask, Zack? I mean, it’s not like my feelings are my own anymore! You may as well get it out in the open,” she got defensive.
This was the first time she’d admitted that she didn’t like that he could read her emotions. She’d complained, vociferously, about his controlling them but not about him reading them. Step softly, Zack, he told himself.
“All right, and then, David,” he wouldn’t ask, she’d tell him when she was ready.
“So, of course, you’re overwhelmed again, experience on top of experience, and something’s gotta give. It wasn’t as bad as yesterday because it wasn’t quite as intense. It was still enough to cause a slight break, but again only because of yesterday’s drama. This time we caught it early enough that I could help. So, what I’m thinking is that if you could maybe learn to read the signals in time, and let me know so I can jump in and help you?”
Amanda's Touch [D.A.R.E.ing Women] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 53