The Banshee and the Linebacker (A Paranormal Romance)

by Mason, P. R.

  "No." He shook his head and squeezed my hand. "I didn't want you driving alone in this fog. I'll walk home."

  "That's crazy," I said. "Take my car. You can pick me up in the morning."

  He grinned, before pressing a soft kiss on my lips. "Perfect."

  After I reluctantly withdrew my hand from his, I opened the door but hesitated about getting out.

  "What is it?"

  I'd spotted a light inside the house. "Gran's up. She's gonna be pissed after she gets over being scared. And that will be about two seconds after I walk through the door."

  "Do you want me to come in and explain?"

  "No," I answered. "I can handle it."

  After jumping out, I pushed the car door closed behind me and then ran up the walk and onto the front porch. With a little wave to Keagan, who was still watching me from the car, I opened the front door and walked in.

  Harry trotted up to me with his tail wagging.

  "Where have you been?" Gran shouted.

  Harry cringed as if whipped and scuttled away, back in the direction of the living room. If only I could get away so easily.

  "You're still alive at least." Gran stood, hands-on-hips, just inside. "My only comfort was that I'd seen your fate was an old age death. Even so, I was scared spitless. An old lady could have an attack, you know."

  Not even thinking about closing the door behind me, I rushed to her and gave her a quick hug. "I'm so sorry, Gran. I didn't mean to be out so late. We just..." I couldn't think of a way to finish that. Talking about falling asleep with Keagan might not be the best thing to calm her down. "But I think I did it, Gran. I think I changed their death fates. Keagan and Liam. Well, I'm sure about Keagan and the next time I can touch Liam, I'll know about him for sure."

  "You were out with Keagan and not Liam?" she asked.

  "Yes, of course." I shrugged. "I told you I was going to do anything I could to stop them from playing that football game together. It was the only way to get Keagan to agree not to play."

  "I know it seemed like the right thing to do, Tara. But you're playing with people's feelings here."

  I shook my head, trying to deny her words even though I knew she was right. But no matter how much I wanted her to stop, Gran kept talking.

  "How is Liam going to feel with you going out, and staying out so late, with his brother? And how is Keagan going to feel when he finds out you've just been manipulating him for Liam's benefit? That you've been using his feelings for you."

  "Yeah." Keagan's voice came from the porch through the still-open front door "How am I gonna feel about being manipulated and used?"

  Whirling around to face him, I saw him step over the threshold.

  "I might be pretty angry and disgusted," he finished, his face stricken.

  "Keagan," I said, reaching out a hand to him. "It's not what you think."

  He shrank away from my touch, shaking his head. "I came up here to explain to your grandmother what happened tonight, but instead I found out I was the one who didn't know what had really happened."

  "Please, Keagan. I was trying to save Liam's life. Can't you understand?"

  "I understand everything is always for Liam and not me. My parents' love, your love—" With that he threw down my car keys, turned, and barreled out.

  "Omigod." I picked up the keys from the floor. "I think I can safely say everything is ruined now." Including my heart, I thought. Shredded into a thousand ragged scraps like so much ground beef.

  "I'm sorry, honey," Gran said. "I didn't realize he was there. But I warned you fate has a way of turning things its way."

  "I don't believe that," I yelled. "I have to believe I can stop this or all the pain has been for nothing."

  Starting out the door, I heard Gran shout after me. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm going after him," I shouted back. "I'm going after Keagan. I have to try to explain and salvage something."

  "No, Tara." She stepped out onto the porch, but I had already reached the car. "Don't go."

  Shaking my head, I got in and then drove off.

  The fog that had been a happy cocoon earlier was now a horrible barrier as I slowly drove what I thought would be the most likely path between my house and the Ellsworths'. I tried to examine each alley and side street, all the while keeping my eyes on the road.

  Spotting what looked like a figure just coming into view on the right ahead, near a bus stop, my heart lurched and I stepped on the gas. But when I got nearer, the figure turned out to be a sign with a shrub in front of it.

  "Damn," I muttered.

  Just then a cat darted out of the shrub and into the street. My hand jerked the wheel and I stomped on the brake.

  "Damn!"

  * * * * *

  Damn. My school locker must have fallen on me, I thought. Get this thing off my chest or I'll miss math class. But no matter how much effort I exerted, my arms wouldn't move. I also couldn't lift my lids. They seemed glued shut. Did I leave glue uncapped in the locker? Math class was definitely out.

  I heard a groan that seemed far away until I realized it was me.

  "Open your eyes, Tara. You can do it," Gran's voice urged me.

  The accompanying pat on my hand somehow gave me the strength to pry open my lids to see her beloved face over me.

  "Math class." The words sounded like a shout in my head but a whisper to my ears.

  "What, honey?" Gran asked.

  The events of the night came rushing into my head: the date, the guilt, the pain, the happiness, the kisses, the guilt again...the shrub.

  "Did I hit the cat?"

  "You didn't hit anything but a bus stop," Gran said, wiping a tear as it slipped down one cheek. "You could have been killed."

  "What time is it?"

  Gran glanced at her watch. "Eight thirty."

  I tried to sit up and Gran held me down.

  "Lie still. You're in the hospital. You have a concussion and bruised ribs. You'll be all right. But they want you to stay overnight for observation."

  "I have to get to school. Maybe I can talk to Liam. Or I could go by Keagan's school first—"

  "It's eight thirty at night, Tara. School is over."

  The meaning of what she was telling me didn't register for a few seconds. When it did, a chant began in my head. No. No. No....

  Rolling out from under Gran's hand and out of bed, I landed with my bare feet on the cold linoleum. Fortunately, my shaking legs held me up.

  "The game started at six thirty. I don't have much time left. I'm checking myself out."

  A draft hit my bare bum under the hospital gown, reminding me I needed clothes. Scanning the room, I saw a locker on one wall and took a chance my clothes would be inside. I stumbled over to it and found I was right. Gran was on my heels talking. When I started to put on my skirt, she tried to grab it.

  "Do I have to call security to keep you here?" she asked. "You can't check yourself out. You're a minor and I'm your guardian."

  With my after accident shakiness, I was barely a match for my seventy-two year old grandmother, but I did manage to get the skirt on in spite of her efforts. "I have to get to the stadium right now."

  "No," she said, taking the other garments out of the locker and holding them hostage. "Get back into that bed and rest."

  Holding her shoulders, I locked eyes with her. "Gran. If you stop me and Liam dies, I'll never get over it. I don't think I can survive it. Don't you understand? Liam, Keagan and me. We'll all be lost."

  Gran stared at me for a few moments before finally handing me the rest of the clothes. "Okay. I'll drive you."

  We didn't even talk to anyone, just walking straight out. But still it seemed an eternity to get to Gran's car in the parking lot. For once I thanked heavens Gran was a terrible driver because even breaking every traffic law to get to the stadium didn't ease the excruciating slowness of the trip. If she'd driven like the typical senior, I'd have gone crazy.

  Finally, the stadium lights came into view in
the distance, taunting me. So close but yet... It was almost 9 p.m. Was the game over already? Was Liam dead? Was Keagan lost?

  Marbles rolled around in my bruised head—or it felt that way—and I lifted a hand to the bandage on my forehead in pain as we whipped around a corner. A few of those marbles must have slipped down into my lungs too, because I was having a hard time breathing either from fear or from the bruised ribs.

  Gran pulled up and let me out in front of the entry and I rushed in. As I reached the outer corridor, a roaring cheer from the stands around the field reassured me the game was still going on. Stumbling a little, I made my way around the outer ring hallway to get to the opposite side where I could more easily reach the visiting team. Every second was marked by the sound of my shoes slapping against the flooring of the empty corridor.

  I passed through a wide archway and reached the bottom of the stands. On the field the Broughton Hawks offense had control with one player running the ball down field. Ten yards then twenty, he ran to the happy cheers of their fans. My worried eyes went to the scoreboard. Three minutes, forty-nine seconds left in the game.

  I remembered the fateful play was at one minute, twenty-seconds. A little time left.

  My eyes searched the Hawks' bench and found the dark hair of a familiar head. The name on the uniform, Ellsworth, confirmed it for me: Keagan.

  It might have been the way I walked with purpose and without hesitation. It might have been the bandage on my forehead and the crazy matted hair and bruises from the accident. For whatever reason, no one stopped me from striding past the Hawks' cheerleaders and approaching the bench.

  Just as I reached him, Keagan, and the rest of his benched team, rose and cheered. Their team had gotten a touchdown. The score was twenty to fourteen now, just as in my vision.

  "Keagan," I said, tapping him on the shoulder. "I have to talk to you."

  At my touch he started and whirled. "Get away from me." He hit my hand away.

  At the angry scowl and blazing eyes, I gasped and stepped back.

  As he took me in, his face softened. "Tara. What happened to you?" He tentatively touched the bandage.

  "Car accident. I tried to find you last night after...anyway a cat ran out in front of my Camry."

  Over his shoulder, I saw that the Hawks' holder had mishandled the ball and the extra point kick failed. Instead of positioning the ball for the kicker, the holder tried to recover by passing the ball and it was intercepted. The Hawks' coach screamed and called a time out.

  The clock stopped at one minute, twenty seconds.

  "Ellsworth, get that girl out of here and come get instructions. You're going back into the game."

  "Yes, Coach," Keagan yelled back. "Tara, you have to go. We can talk after the game."

  He took me by the arm and tried to walk me off to the sidelines and toward the stands.

  "No. You can't go out there. You can't play the rest of this game. Remember what I told you about my parents. I really did have a vision. They didn't listen to me and they died."

  "What does that have to do with—" He stopped walking and turned me to him, his hands going to my shoulders. "Are you saying you've had a vision about this game?"

  "Yes. I thought you heard me tell Liam about it."

  "No. Or if I did I didn't listen to that part. I was too busy thinking about you and him going to the reserve. Too busy burning up with jealousy."

  "Young lady," the coach interrupted with another shout. "Get off the field and Ellsworth get over here."

  Neither of us reacted.

  "I had a vision," I said. "Liam will die in the next play of this game and you...you're involved."

  He stared off beyond me, unseeing, lost in his thoughts. "That's what you and your grandmother were talking about last night. That's what you meant. Why you asked me out. You wanted to save Liam."

  "Yes." I shook him a little to bring his attention back to me. "Of course. I don't want Liam to die. I can't deny I care about him. But I also don't want you to feel responsible for his death. I don't want that for you. I love you."

  "Ellsworth," The coach shouted. "Ten seconds to the end of the time out. Get out onto the field."

  Cupping his cheek with my palm, I put everything I had into the plea. "I know it's insane. I know you think people don't have visions, but please Keagan. Just trust me. Please. If you ever cared about me at all. Please. Don't go back into the game."

  One beat and then two passed as if an eternity. Then, without looking away from me, Keagan shouted over his shoulder. "I'm not playing the rest of the game, Coach."

  "What?" The coach screeched. "We can win this thing and you're quitting? Are you crazy?"

  When Keagan didn't answer, the coach marched over to us, an obscenity-laced tirade coming from under his breath. He grabbed Keagan by the shoulder and pulled him away from me. "If you don't play the rest of this game you're off the team."

  "Okay," Keagan said, nodding. "I'm off the team."

  More obscenities poured from the coach as he returned to the sidelines and barked orders at the other players. I briefly had a glimpse of Liam running onto the field as I threw myself against Keagan and wrapped him in the tightest hug I could manage.

  "Oof," I groaned at the pain, but didn't let go.

  "Your injuries," Keagan said, trying to pull back.

  I just held him tighter and buried my face in his chest. "I'm okay." My muffled words were barely audible over the din of the crowd. Apparently, a big play had occurred. "I'm more than okay. I'm wonderful. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

  How long we stood like that, with arms wrapped around each other, I don't know. An impression of the edge of his shoulder pads was etching itself into my cheek and I didn't care. The hug didn't end until someone ripped Keagan away from me.

  I looked up to see Liam, his face contorted in a fury like I'd never seen from him before.

  "What the hell is going on?" He threw his helmet down and it spiked once off the ground before tumbling to a stop. Liam's hand bunched into a fist. He pulled it back and threw a haymaker into his brother's chin. Keagan didn't defend himself. He just went down.

  "Stop it." Screaming I knelt beside Keagan, looking up at Liam. "Just stop."

  "I should hit you too," Liam said, puffing with exertion and anger.

  "Look, dude," Keagan said. "This has all been a mistake. Tara thought she was saving your sorry ass because of her premonition. She didn't want to go out with me. It's you she loves."

  "That vision stuff again?" Liam yelled.

  "No," I contradicted him. "I mean yes. I did have a vision that you'd die in this game during a play where Keagan was on the defensive line. I did want to save your life, Liam. Whether you believe it or not, I had a vision."

  "So you went out with him because you thought you were helping me?"

  "Yes."

  Liam's breath began to calm and his features untwisted. As he stared at me his anger drained away into wariness. He held out a hand to me and helped me up.