The Untouched: THE UNSEEN SERIES, #2

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The Untouched: THE UNSEEN SERIES, #2 Page 9

by Sheldon, Piper

“What is it?” Her voice is as scared as I feel.

  “The tests. Th-they keep failing—” I have to stop because my throat is too tight to go on.

  I’m being ridiculous. I’m overreacting but in this moment I don’t care. My chest heaves. My emotions have boiled over. This month. This day … it’s all too much.

  She steps into my office. I can’t see her, hidden as my face is. But I feel her, tangible as my own limbs. The soft click of my office door closing echoes loudly in the room. I swallow. Her feet step into my view, inches from the tips of my own shoes.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she says with such assurance I believe it in my bones.

  Maybe that’s what my team feels when I say it. We all just need to have our dreams validated so that we can give ourselves permission to believe them.

  My hand falls away and I look up to study her. She’s so close her Cassiopeia freckles are only a breath away. I hold her gaze. I wonder if she sees the fear in my watery eyes. I wonder if I can share the load on my shoulders.

  “How do you know?” I ask.

  She thinks for a second, her brows furrowing and raising. “Because it has to be.” She shrugs. “Because I believe in you. We all do.”

  “I-I don’t know that I deserve your faith. Or the team’s.” I keep my arms loose at my sides.

  “You do.” She steps closer and the energy in the room shifts. “Focus on what’s working,” she says.

  I think of how far I’ve come. How hard I’ve worked to establish my reputation. All that I’ve done for the team. We will figure it out. I feel calmer just having Julia by my side. We are in this moment again. That same tension as when we almost kissed in the car fills the air. But I won’t cross any more lines tonight. I will sit here, a hair’s breadth away from her and that will be enough. Just to be able to look at her openly like this can be enough.

  Her bottom lip catches between her teeth as she works it, contemplative. I stay perfectly still except for my thumping heart. She takes a deep breath and her brows furrow with determination.

  Slowly, she reaches her arms to wrap around my middle. She steps to remove any remaining distance between us. Her head rests against my chest and I know my thrashing heart has to be giving me away. She nestles her head closer and squeezes me tighter.

  “It’s going to be okay. Trust me. I’m a doctor,” she mumbles against my chest.

  A laugh-cough erupts out of me. All at once my defenses crumble. This is all I need. More than anything in the world. My arms go behind her back, one squeezing her shoulders closer and one cupping her head to me. Her body trembles despite the fact she’s a ball of warmth.

  “Thank you,” I say. I tug her tighter to me, tucking her head under my chin. She’s so small compared to my large, bumbling frame and yet her strength is sustaining both of us.

  “You will figure it out. Everything will be okay,” she says.

  “Okay,” I say, starting to believe it.

  “The only way out is through.”

  “You’re right.”

  “If it wasn’t hard, it wouldn’t be worth it.”

  I rumble a deep chuckle. “Are you reciting inspirational quotes?”

  “Hey. They work for a reason.”

  We languish in this moment. I wonder how long I have her like this. She must be in pain, though I am careful that no skin touches. And I don’t want to pry about exactly how her illness works. But she hugged me and I will never turn way that gift. It feels like everything. My head lowers to inhale her scent. At this point, what have I got to lose? She smells so damn good. This hug is everything my lonely heart needs. I still need to apologize, but right now, I can be here. I indulge in how soft and warm her body is in my arms.

  “You’re so hot,” I say and then instantly wince. “I mean you feel hot. Temperature-wise.”

  Just like that, the moment is over. I curse myself but don’t fight it when she steps back instantly. She tugs her shirt down over her hands before wrapping them around her waist.

  “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

  Backing away slightly she says, “No. You didn’t—”

  I force a step back to give her space. I lean to sit on my desk and run a hand over my face. “No, I need to apologize. Not only for now, but in the car—”

  She can’t quite meet my gaze. Her focus flicks anywhere but to me before finally resting on the whiteboard behind me. Her face scrunches in confusion and her head tilts.

  “You—” I start but she cuts me off.

  “What are those dates?” she asks, her voice edged with tension.

  I sigh and toss a hand in the direction of the whiteboard. “Test failures.”

  “Those are the times when the tests are failing?”

  “Yeah. We can’t—”

  “Oh my God.” Her hand covers her mouth and she stumbles back. Her gaze moves over the board, examining every inch and starting over again.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask and step forward, reaching for her.

  She retreats with a head shake. Are the events of the evening finally settling in? The almost-kiss? The hug? Is she regretting everything that’s happened?

  “Julia?” I ask with more than a hint of desperation in my voice. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Stop.” She holds up a hand, backing up until she bumps into the door. Her mouth is in a flat line, shoulders tensed. She’s afraid of me. My insides crumple with shame.

  “Please, let me—”

  Her gaze moves to mine. Her eyes are wide and shining. “I have to go. I need to check something.”

  She slips out of my office and I am helpless.

  * * *

  Julia

  I stumble out of his office and toward my own, using the wall for balance. How could I not see all the signs that were right in front of me?

  I try not to put the cart before the horse but I know what I will see. I grab the notebook from my desk. I scan the dates of when I’ve lost control at work or even those times when I’ve felt close to the edge. It’s all there, verifying what I already know in my gut. I bet just now, during our moment in the car, the tests would show a huge spike … of something.

  Nathaniel’s tests are failing because of me.

  My outbursts … they all line up. The writing was literally on the wall. Every single time I lost control, the tests failed. I’m such an idiot.

  I have to leave. I can’t believe I let myself stay and put Nathaniel and the team at so much risk. They are behind because of me, when all I wanted to do was help them. I’m devastated.

  I grab Ferngully and a few important things I can carry. I don’t want to regret not taking them later, but in this moment, getting away is the most important thing. The sooner I get out of here, the better. Who knows what else my mere existence has ruined.

  I take a moment to steady myself on the desk.

  “Julia,” Nathaniel says softly behind me.

  I spin on my heels to him. I hold up a hand. “Don’t come any closer.”

  He flinches. Oh my God, I just hugged him. I knew I shouldn’t have done it. I should have just given him space but he seemed so sad. I don’t regret the hug, but I should have known I couldn’t contain myself for long. The heat grew so fast that Nathaniel had felt it only after a few seconds. Much faster than with anybody else before. I pressed my entire body against his because it felt so good and right, but what if I hurt him? Looking at his face twisted with pain now, I think I already did.

  “Please. Please let me explain. I’m so sorry,” he pleads.

  “Nathaniel, please just let me go. I can email my resignation tonight. Just let me leave.”

  He’s standing in front of the doorway, not quite blocking it, purposefully stepping back so I don’t feel trapped. What he really needs to do is put a lead wall between us. He needs protection from me. “You can’t leave like this,” he says. “I’m so sorry. I crossed so many lines. This attraction I feel—”

  “It has nothing to do with
you—wait, what attraction?”

  “Is it because of the hug? Because I almost kissed you in the Jeep?”

  “What? No.” My head shakes, as I try to process his words. “You were about to kiss me?” Focus, Julia. That’s not important right now. This problem is so much bigger than whatever is between us. “No. That doesn’t matter.”

  “It doesn’t?” he asks. He rubs a circle on his chest and it almost breaks me.

  “I just mean that’s not why I have to go,” I try to clarify.

  He steps closer. “Let me explain.”

  “No!” I shout. He stops, his face draining of color, but he retreats into the hallway. “Get back. I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve done enough damage.”

  “What are you talking about? If you want to report me, I understand. I crossed a line. Please, can we just talk?”

  “I have to think. I need to go far away.” I pick up my meager box of belongings and leave my office. I don’t look at him on my way out. I will not see his face. That face that makes me do stupid things time after time. Eventually, he will understand this is for the best.

  But. I can’t leave like this. I can’t let him think this is his fault. I take three steps down the hall before I stop and turn around.

  He lifts his head. His face is so sad, my chest seizes with regret. I can’t let him think even for a second this is about him or the team. This is all about me. I lift my chin and square my shoulders. What the hell do I have to lose at this point?

  “Just know that I think you’re amazing. You’re so smart and down to earth and just the most magnanimous personality I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I have to go. The contract is at risk. The team is at risk. You are at risk.” My voice breaks. “But you have to know that it is not because of anything that happened between us, I promise. I wish …” My throat tightens. “I wish it could be different. So badly, you don’t even know. But this is how it has to be.”

  As I speak his face changes from hurt to wonder to confusion. “The team? What are you talking about?” he asks. “Please, you have to explain.”

  “I can’t,” I say. How could I possibly explain any of this? Nobody knows. Not a single living person knows the truth about my freakish nature.

  “Julia, you cannot go like this. I have to understand,” he begs me. His hand runs through his already wild hair.

  “I don’t even know where to begin.” Emotion makes my voice go high and tight.

  “Are you in danger? Is someone hurting you?” Darkness passes over his face, revealing an edge to him I’ve never seen.

  “No. I’m not the one who should be worried about getting hurt.” He frowns in confusion. “Look,” I continue, “I’m not trying to be vague on purpose. I just don’t think there’s any way you’d even believe me.”

  Why was I still standing here talking? I should be home packing already.

  “You secret is safe. I swear on my life. On Lincoln’s. I would never hurt you. Or him.”

  “Your boyfriend’s?” I say without thinking. Oh my God, I completely forgot about Nathaniel’s boyfriend when I hugged him and almost kissed him. My self-worth is a dirty ball of slime rolling around a city gutter.

  “My brother, Lincoln,” he clarifies gently. “I promise on his life I wouldn’t share your secret.”

  “Oh … Ohhh,” I say as realization dawns on me. So that almost-kiss … Oh boy, I can’t think about any of this right now. “No, don’t swear on your brother’s life.”

  “You’re right. I can’t do that. But I swear on my own life.”

  I stall. What would it be like to finally tell somebody? What would it be like to have a friend and confidant that knows everything about me? My resolve is disintegrating the longer I stand here. Somewhere deep inside me, I feel a tug. A voice I’ve learned to ignore. A voice that yearns for more. But maybe, just maybe, I could tell him. What would Grandma Sue say? God, I wish I could talk to her again. More than ever just to talk to ask her about this.

  “Please. You can’t leave. You can trust me.” His eyes hold mine. And I know it’s true. I know deep inside that I trust this man. And more importantly, I trust myself to handle sharing the truth of this burden.

  “It’s me. I’m the reason your tests are failing.” I watch as the truth crashes over him.

  11

  Nathaniel

  She’s the reason the tests are failing?

  “I don’t understand. How?” I ask, keeping my voice steady.

  Is she trying to sabotage me? There was a randomness to the failures that made me suspect foul play but I instantly discounted that paranoia because I trust my team. They wouldn’t do that. But what if my father …

  “Why?” I ask and that seems to break her anxious silence.

  She sets down the box in her arms. It would have been a victory only a moment ago but now I’m warring with myself after what she said. I had such an instant connection with her. I trusted her and bonded with her like nobody I’ve ever met. Had I completely misjudged her character? Was I so broken I can no longer tell good from bad? Or had I been played? Was this a sick trick, sent by my father to show his power?

  She’s holding up her hands. “Not on purpose.” Her cheeks burn red, flushing all the way down her neck. “I promise. I believe in this team and this project. You have to trust that. I would never do anything to hurt you. Or Lite-Brite,” she adds hastily.

  “Okay.” I stand motionless, waiting for her to explain. When she doesn’t say anything else, just stands there looking like a small, wounded animal, I add, “Can you tell me more?”

  She rubs her red and glossy eyes. “Fuck,” she says on an exhale. “I can’t really explain. But … I can show you.”

  I am hesitant as she puts her hair into a ponytail. “I’m going to regret this,” she says.

  I swallow and feel an unaccountable dread warring with my own curiosity.

  “It’s a far drive,” she mumbles to herself. “Unless … is there a cement room somewhere? Somewhere you can see me, but not be close to me.”

  She trails off but her eyes light up and at the same time we say, “The testing room.”

  “You know I can’t let you go in there. Especially now. You just told me you’re causing the tests to fail,” I say flatly.

  “I know.” She rubs at her forehead, thinking. “You have no reason to trust me, but I’m trusting you by showing you this. So much. I don’t know what else to say to convince you except, I feel like you feel the same about me?” she says with question in her voice.

  There is no accounting for it, but I believe her. My curiosity has gotten the best of me too. I can’t even imagine there is anything that she could have been doing to mess with the tests. She’s been nothing but helpful since she joined the team.

  “Let’s go,” I say.

  A few minutes later she’s standing alone on the other side of the thick glass. We moved out the laser and some of the more expensive equipment. Her hands are by her sides and she shakes them out, tilting her head side to side to stretch.

  “Ready?” she calls, her voice muffled through the glass.

  I give her a thumbs-up but have to admit that uncertainty is making me wary. What do I actually know about this woman?

  She takes a steadying breath and shakes her head, mumbling something I can’t catch. Like she can’t believe this is happening either. Slowly, she begins moving and I recognize some of the tap dance steps from the brewery. In growing horror, I realize she’s dancing. I can only blink. Have I let a crazy lady into the most classified area of the lab?

  She stops and shakes out her hands. “It’s hard without music,” she explains. “I’m nervous, so it’s not working.”

  I press the call button to speak into the room. “You don’t have to do this.” I know my voice betrays my disappointment.

  She looks crushed. She balls her fists and lifts her chin. “Give me a minute.”

  I nod once but I know my face is anything but pleased. If this got out …
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  This is how I destroy my career. By a beautiful brunette whose smile and dorky humor reeled me right in. I would have made a terrible spy.

  She tugs off her shirt, revealing a tight, thin-strapped undershirt. Even now her body distracts me. She closes her eyes and starts to hum a melody. I can’t make it out. Her body rocks slowly back and forth. She sings softly about watching someone and ocean eyes. Her voice is sad and sweet. It’s as beautiful as her dancing. She’s an enigma, this confusing woman.

  Then her body begins moving again as she quietly sings about being scared. The lyrics spread chills over my arms. The happy steps and jumps are at odds with the heavy, mournful lyrics.

  It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful.

  But crazy.

  What the hell is happening? She’s fully committed to putting on a performance in my million-dollar testing facility. I’m reaching for the call button to end this madness when something unexpected happens.

  Her hands moving up and down her body leave a trail of light behind like headlights in the night. I check to make sure no lights have been turned on and lean closer to the glass.

  Her singing, still high and sweet, has grown stronger along with her confidence in the dance as she spins and taps and arches and sways. The glow that first appeared in her hands now spreads up her arms to her neck and face. She is the fullest moon in the blackest night complete with a halo of illumination.

  “What the—” I whisper.

  The glow intensifies from a lunar glimmer to the bright white of solar light, so bright I can no longer look at her straight on. I hold up an arm to protect my face and eyes, squinting as her form disappears into the radiance. The light builds, the show culminating when she throws her head back and light shoots up her throat and out her mouth like a beacon.

  I stumble back against the opposite wall, temporarily blinded. Eventually the spots of black dancing across my vision melt together and my sight slowly returns. Even through the glass and the wall, the change in temperature is noticeable. Thank God we removed all the equipment prior to her demonstration because several spots on the cement walls have been marked with singes. The air buzzes with energy reminiscent of new electronics.

 

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