EVO Nation Series Trilogy Box Set

Home > Other > EVO Nation Series Trilogy Box Set > Page 14
EVO Nation Series Trilogy Box Set Page 14

by K. J. Chapman


  He presses his lips to mine to silence me. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I just want you to be sure.”

  “I am sure,” I say, perhaps a little too keenly. Embarrassment flushes my cheeks again.

  He smiles a little. “Okay, well, then I need to be sure,” he says.

  It’s my turn to give him the lowered brow. My confusion appears to amuse him, and he kisses me again before explaining himself.

  “I’ve never been that guy- someone’s first I mean. At least, I don’t remember that I have. It’s kind of a big deal to me.”

  I slide my hands over his shoulders, and he lowers his head to mine. “And me,” I say. It’s a huge deal, but I want him to know that I trust him implicitly.

  He smiles into my hair. “I need to be sure that you’re sure. There’s no rush.”

  Oh, my God, is this man even real? I’m falling without a parachute.

  “Do you want to stay for a bit?” I ask.

  He walks over to my sleeping bag and lies down, watching me untie my boots with that intense stare that bores right into my gut and leaves a bubbly feeling in its wake. I lie beside him, closing my eyes as his fingers trace the outline of my face. A weight has been lifted between us. I feel totally open to him and it is freeing.

  “Isaac told me that my mum hid me from him out of spite,” I say. Not sure why I need to talk about this, I carry on regardless. “He found me when I was five, but he decided to leave me with Rob because he thought I was safer there.”

  Adam slides closer to me until I can feel the hotness of his breath on my skin. “Isaac said that the E.N.C was founded in 2001, so that would be—”

  “When I was five,” I say, doing the math. “Nothing makes sense anymore. The only thing I know for sure is that my Dad is dead. Isaac reckons that Dad knew I wasn’t his daughter when I started showing signs of telekinesis. That was five years ago. He never said a thing.”

  “Being a Dad is a privilege, not a right. He sounds like he was a good guy, a good Dad.”

  A tidal wave of emotions surges in my chest and my eyes grow hot. I know talking will betray my emotion, but I can’t stop myself. “They shot him twice. I tried to stop the bleeding, but it didn’t change anything. I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t save him. Then, I lost control. Now, all I can see is his face how I saw him under the hallucination and I’m scared that’s how I’m going to remember him. I even think I’m forgetting the sound of his voice.” The words tumble out of my mouth in a torrent of sobs. “What did they do with him? He could be floating around in the ocean somewhere and I can’t bare it. He hasn’t even had a funeral. It’s like he never existed- like no one cares. I care... I care.”

  Adam’s arms slide around me, so I’m enclosed between him and the sleeping bag. “He shouldn’t have been taken away from you, but he was, and now, you’ve got to honour his sacrifice by looking after yourself and getting to Spain in one piece,” he says.

  I know he is right. Dad gave his life trying to keep me safe, the least I can do is fulfil what he started. I need to get away from here, away from Roscoe, away from the E.N.C, and disappear.

  He nuzzles into my hair. “You’re strong and you’ll get through this, and you’ve got me. You didn’t leave me behind and I’m sure as hell not leaving you.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper to him.

  “That’s what boyfriends are for, right?”

  I smile. “So, is that what we are- boyfriend and girlfriend?”

  “I hope so, unless you go around kissing all your mates?” he says, kissing me again to prove a point.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Adam must have gone back to his room at some point after I fell asleep. The only ray of sun shines directly onto my sleeping bag, and the sounds of chatter and general movement carries up through the floor.

  The clock in the hallway says its 10.30 am. My body clock is so out of whack. The shower is empty, so I take my time and enjoy the hot water; screw the five-minute rule. My dressing clings on for dear life, so I chuck it. I’ll get another from Maggie later. The stitches are looking less inflamed, and my whole arm is easier to manoeuvre. I dress in the same jeans as yesterday and a new, green, zip up cardigan.

  I head back to my room, with my dirty clothes bundled under my arm, to find Adam looking out of the window. He sees my reflection in the glass and turns to greet me. He, too, has on the same jeans, but now wears a light-blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He is stunning.

  “Happy birthday,” he says, kissing me. Wait, what? He sees my confusion. “It’s February 18th.”

  I have lost track of the date, but yes, it’s my birthday. “Oh, right, I hadn’t realised,” I say, laughing. “Thank you, but how did you know?”

  “There is a man downstairs who has missed eighteen of your birthdays and is set on celebrating your nineteenth with you.”

  “He hasn’t gone OTT has he?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

  “Just a bit. I thought I’d give you a heads up and make sure you are okay after last night.”

  I move against him, so he is sandwiched between me and the wall. “I don’t even know how old you are,” I say, shocked.

  He laughs. “Would it make a difference? I’m twenty-three. One thing I do remember is my birthday- January 4th 1992.”

  “I’ve always liked the idea of an older man.”

  Adam waggles his eyebrows at me. “I wish I had something to give you,” he says, sighing.

  “What do you mean? You could always teach me how to Dougie,” I say, repeating his moves from last night.

  “Whoa, looks like you already know your stuff.”

  I give him a little bow. He shakes his shoulders out, and busts a Michael Jackson, Usher-esque glide around me. He certainly knows his stuff, and I giggle at him like a school girl. In one swift movement, he swings me by my good arm onto his back, piggy back style, and heads out the door with me still laughing. It’s hard to imagine that this man is the TORO I met on my first day at Facility One.

  “Try and act surprised,” he says, before entering the kitchen.

  A chorus of happy birthdays ring out. The table is littered with balloons in amongst the breakfast dishes. It looks like a five-year-old’s birthday party. It strikes me ironic that I would think that, and the last time Isaac saw me was the day before my fifth birthday.

  Isaac appears from the back of the room holding a two-tiered birthday cake with a couple of candles flickering in the breeze he creates as he walks. The red-headed mermaid from the Disney film sits perched on the top. I have to clasp my hand to my mouth to curb my laughter.

  “I sent Maggie out to get the cake yesterday before she collected us. I told her to get something that would suit you and she came back with this.”

  “Well, you said she was a red head. It looks just like her.” Maggie winks at me.

  “Yes, if she was half fish,” says Isaac. “Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.”

  “Put the cake down and give the child her gift,” says Norah. She rushes over and gives me a squeeze. Her choice of word- child- seems to fit with the theme of the day.

  Isaac pulls a small box out of his pocket and hands it to me. It is a green, cracked leather and makes a beautiful snapping noise as it opens. A small, silver, elephant pendant sits atop a velveteen interior with a circular, pale-green gemstone set into its back.

  “It’s stunning.”

  “It’s an antique jade stone. It was supposed to be a fifth birthday gift, but I think it makes a better nineteenth birthday gift,” Isaac says, taking the necklace out of the box and placing it around my neck.

  The pendant is cool against my skin and I touch it tentatively with my finger. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” I hug him, and Norah lets out a whimper as if she has been waiting her whole life to see me hold him like that.

  “Can we have cake now?” Golding pipes up, shattering the moment, and Norah clips him around the ear. “What? I’m hungry.”

  I laugh over Isa
ac’s shoulder as my own stomach grumbles. “Cake is a good idea.”

  ***

  Talk quickly changes to plans for tonight. Isaac and Boyd sit huddled at the table with Adam and Maggie, discussing where to leave the van, and whether to arrive early or last minute. General consensus is that no one other than the pilot, Jimmy, will know that we’re coming and the whole situation should run as smooth as butter.

  Once we land in Spain, there are no contingencies in place, but I couldn’t care less as long as we’re out of here and all together. Yvette will go her own way once we land, and Isaac will only give her the rest of her money once we are there safely.

  Golding, Haydn, and Yana play a game of cards. I’m guessing it is black jack, but I don’t join them. I need a new dressing. Maggie is clearly busy, so I begrudgingly ask Yvette. She isn’t put out, in fact, it seems she is desperate for something to do. I sit on the floor by the open back door and lower my cardigan off one shoulder.

  “It’s looking much better,” she says, proudly. “I’m surprised you asked me to see to it. I’d have thought you’d have gone to ‘Marvellous Maggie’.” Her eyes go steely as she looks over to the table.

  “Maggie’s busy.”

  She pulls the bandage a little tighter, and I smile at her petulance.

  “Bless Isaac and his little display earlier. It must be hard for you with him trying to play dutiful Dad. It’s a bit insensitive of him really.” I’m not sure if she is trying to get a rise out of me or merely put Isaac down in front of me. I can’t believe I used to listen to her.

  “He made more of an effort than my mother would have. I doubt she has even given me a second thought today,” I say.

  She stops dressing my arm. “Your mother is dead.” There is no malice in her voice, just shock. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”

  I pull my cardigan back over the dressing and shoot to my feet. “How do you know that?”

  “The night you came in, I overheard Roscoe telling Towley that there were no loose ends where you were concerned,” she says.

  “That can mean anything,” snaps Isaac, getting up from the table. His anger soars and he glares at her from across the room.

  “So, why would he tell Towley the address and ask him to sort a clean-up of a female body?” Yvette snaps back.

  Isaac’s nostrils flare out, but he tears his gaze from Yvette and looks to me.

  An overwhelming urge to vomit threatens me, and I walk straight out the door. Following the overgrown footpath that curls around the house into the gorse field, I’m quickly knee deep in thorns. I’ve lost my bearings slightly, but I can see Adam and Isaac approaching behind me.

  “I’m okay,” I call to them. “I just need some air.” It doesn’t work as they keep on toward me.

  “Teddie, I had no idea,” says Isaac. “How are you feeling, Sweetheart?”

  I shrug. “I’m kind of numb,” I say. “I’ve just been told my mother is dead. Shouldn’t I be crying or something? Actually, I do feel something. I feel anger,” I continue. “I’m angry at her for not allowing me to just hate her for what she has done. Why should I feel guilty? I guess it’s easier to hate someone when they’re still alive. Oh, god, how can I say that? I’m a horrible person.”

  “No,” says Adam. “You are not a horrible person. It makes me angry to think that someone so good can go through so much shit. You don’t deserve any of this.” He takes me under the arms, lifting me out of the gorse.

  “I second that,” says Isaac.

  “None of us deserve this,” I say. The whole situation is just exhausting and downright unfair. I make a deal with myself to not think about Shana until Spain. Call it a coping mechanism, but I can’t deal with that barrel of emotions today. “Our focus needs to be Spain. I can’t deal with this now.”

  Isaac takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The atmosphere in the house is thick with anticipation. Isaac checks the van over, and I hang about the kitchen with the others. I just want to get on the road. Driving to your impending doom is better than waiting to drive to your impending doom. I say impending doom, even though I’ve been assured that things will go smoothly. Somehow, I just can’t shake the feeling that they won’t.

  I sit with Yana’s head on one shoulder and Golding’s on the other, both still nursing a hangover. Adam and Boyd check and load the guns. Adam is explaining what he is doing to an attentive Haydn and even lets him load the chamber. He’s a good teacher and has a rare skill of holding your attention as he speaks.

  Isaac comes back in and looks around at all of us. “Time to go,” he says.

  Adam hands Isaac a gun and takes one for himself. Haydn looks disappointed that he isn’t offered one, while I’m a little relieved.

  I’m glad Adam isn’t fussing over me. I feel safer when he has his head in the game, and the three of them have been in their own little bubble all afternoon.

  The sun is going down and has tinged the sky with a pink glow. The house looks prettier to me now. I’m not happy to say goodbye. One night, and I’ve got some of my best memories.

  “My head is telling me that this is going to be smooth sailing, so why do I feel sick to my stomach?” Maggie whispers in my ear, as she sits down beside Golding and me.

  “I think our guts are in cahoots,” I say, giving her a nervous look.

  Norah is the last to take her seat beside Yvette. “Can I ask everyone to put on their seat belts, please?” she calls. “Except Theyda and Golding, I’m not asking, I’m telling.”

  I’m still not use to Norah calling me by full name, but I don’t dislike it.

  “Clunk, click, every trip,” says Golding, nudging me over to get his belt in the catch.

  Boyd pulls away from the house, and I watch as it shrinks away from us. Every part of me wants to jump out of the van, run back, and hole up in my bedroom. Maggie takes my hand, her thin fingers cold against my skin. I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels it.

  ***

  Going by Maggie’s watch, we have only been on the road for forty minutes. Boyd pulls into a lay-by and turns off the engine. There are no street lights and the cloud cover allows for little moon light. He turns the headlights off, casting us into darkness.

  Isaac turns around in his seat. “The air strip is just a mile from here. We need to wait for word from Jimmy, and then we’ll drive straight there. When we get there, I don’t want any pissing around. You get out of the van and onto that plane.” His phone beeps, breaking the tension. “That’s our cue.”

  Sensing eyes on me, I look up and see Adam watching me through the rear-view mirror. His gaze is intense and looking ‘marine serious’ again. I blow him an air kiss, and his stare softens into a smile.

  We speed through the country lanes until the road opens up and an illuminated billboard sign reads ‘Esteem Chartered Air’. One security light pierces through the darkness, revealing a plane and an open hangar. A figure paces beside the plane. It must be Jimmy.

  Boyd screeches the van to a stop, and he, Adam, and Isaac jump out. Isaac pulls Haydn through the door, followed by Yana, Norah, and Yvette. I unbuckle my belt and follow after Maggie. Golding clicks his neck and back as if he’s about to go into a boxing ring, setting my teeth on edge.

  The plane is smaller than I imagined, and the stairs are in place for us. Isaac and Adam move up front. We follow them out onto the air strip with Boyd bringing up the rear.

  Jimmy is a short, balding man with a porn star moustache. He shakes Isaac’s hand quickly and rushes ahead toward the stairs. He gestures for Norah to go first, and in that instant, a noise like a car back firing in the distance fills the air strip. Jimmy’s forehead bursts in a spray of red as he topples to the floor. I stand in shock. Everything moves in slow motion for me. Another shot rings out, and a bullet hits Boyd. He drops to the ground, pulling me and Maggie down with him.

  “Are you hit?” Maggie screams at him.

  “It’s a sk
im,” he says, through gritted teeth. “Get behind the plane.”

  Isaac and Adam are behind the steps, firing back toward the hangar. Yvette crouches behind them. The others must have made it behind the plane. At least eight figures emerge from the hangar. They’re not TORO. They don’t wear helmets or have the gait.

  “We won’t make it,” says Maggie.

  “Get back to the van,” groans Boyd. “We run and weave on three. One– two- three.”

  Both Maggie and I jump up and sprint toward the van. There are no shots fired at us. Maggie stops, her grip pulling loose from my hand. Boyd isn’t with us. He still lies on the floor with blood seeping through his shirt. It is more than a skim.

  “No, Boyd!” Maggie screams.

  I grab her hand before she can run back to him.

  “Go baby,” he shouts at her. “Teddie, get her to the van,” he pleads.

  Wrapping both arms around her chest, I drag her backward. “Maggie, come on.”

  Adam races to Boyd, bullets hitting the concrete around him. “Teddie, move,” he shouts.

  “Adam will get him, Maggie. Come on.” I’m not convinced, and I’m too afraid to look back in case I see Adam lying there too.

  The doors of the van are open, and I pray Boyd has left the keys in the ignition. As I step into the cabin, the van glides sideways. I’m lurched backward from the door, hitting the ground hard. Maggie grabs my bad arm, hoisting me to my feet. I don’t feel pain, just adrenaline.

  The van screeches to a stop about fifty yards away. Its nose turns to face us and it flies forward on its own accord. Gripping Maggie’s hand, we sprint away. I pull her to the left, but the van veers after us. What the hell? A figure stands in the hangar with his hands outstretched. He’s doing this. He’s like me.

  Adam shouts at us to run, but as my feet pound the ground, and Maggie drags on my hand, I know there is no outrunning it. It’s no more than ten feet behind us. I stop dead, pulling Maggie into an embrace. She grips to me as tightly as I do her.

 

‹ Prev