Spring

by Jessica Florence

  “Write something while I’m gone, OK?” She needed her music now, to sort out the shit we just threw at each other. I needed to release my power, and she had emotions locked inside her begging to be released.

  As I walked out the door, I hoped this time her lyrics would show that I had mended the heart I’d broken. The cool air blasted me as soon as I closed the front gate, and I required the feel of the wind against my skin and the sensations of my power discharging into the world.

  I walked farther down her driveway, through the woods beyond where she and Phillip had talked days before. She lived on a lot of property, a complete contrast to the majority of celebrities. While they wanted the big house in the popular neighborhoods to show their financial success and status, Hazel lived in a normal three-bedroom home, with a studio for her music, surrounded by plant life for miles. She lived alone, without a housekeeper. While on the road, she had people to help take care of it, but she did everything herself.

  I lived in Kansas for a while, enjoying tornado alley and the freedom of releasing my power without suspicion and causing harm. I tried to stop horrid damage of actual tornados when I could, but I was only one man. Heroes like those of the Hero Society did stuff like stopping colossal, life-changing catastrophes as well as the small stuff. It was an admirable attempt to make the world a better place.

  Mostly, I lived like a nomad, traveling from place to place, never finding home. Of course, I knew why. I didn’t need a shrink to tell me Hazel was my home. Without her, I had grown lost. I may be a brute of a man, hardened and powerful, but my love for her wasn’t fragile. I loved her, which made me stronger. Emotions and love empowered people, not burdened them. If love burdened the soul, then it’s not the right love.

  She might never return my feelings, which I’d lived with thus far, and knew I’d survive it. I wanted to be here now and fight at her side, not lock her away from the world, even before I knew she had powers. I knew I couldn’t hide her from the Collector’s interest. I was here to assist her in ruling an empire, not overthrow her world.

  The wind around swirled as my power leaked from me. The rage I’d swallowed inside Hazel’s house now flowed unrestrained into an opening by a large pond. Waves grew from the calm waters while the trees bent with the force trying to topple them.

  That fucker Jarrod. I never liked him, but I hadn’t even considered he had it in him to attack her. I had left my best friend unprotected. No wonder she hated me. For years I’d been her knight, shielding her from the horrors of homelessness and foster care.

  I’d asked Jarrod to give her the necklace I had made and promise to look out for her. She only had two more years left in school, then she’d go live her life the way she wanted. Instead, the asshole tried to hurt her. The white caps on the pond mirrored the raging emotions inside me.

  I never regretted leaving her until now. I was proud of her for growing thorns and threatening them. I wanted to hunt down Jarrod and watch as he gasped for air, making him pay for taking advantage of my Hazel, alone and vulnerable.

  “Fuck, she’s not my anything!” I roared at my thoughts. Coming back to her seemed like the only option for me, but now, I wondered if it would had been better for both of us if I’d stayed away. The wind picked up and a tree snapped nearby. The sound broke through my rage. Damaging Hazel’s trees wasn’t wise.

  Opposing thoughts rolled through my brain, fighting for dominance. Was I right to come here? An ache grew in my chest with the thought of leaving again.

  “Not fucking happening.” I cursed myself. Even the demons of the past couldn’t make me leave her side.

  For five minutes I simply breathed, the air expanding my lungs and chest. My shoulders lifted then deflated with each exhale. I focused on how far I’d come and the good in my life. Hazel was good, and I’d be forever grateful that I found a way back into her world. The pond became smooth and reflected the blue sky like a mirror, and I decided to head back. My truck would be delivered today, along with some gear I wanted handy.

  Despite wanting to stay in Hazel’s home forever, I needed to have a temporary housing situation set up soon. We needed space for a few days now that the playing field between us had been leveled.

  With every step toward her bright house, ease filled my soul with warmth. But then I heard it, and my steps quickened toward the house.

  Hazel was singing.

  Hazel

  “My lungs are burning, but I still use my voice to fight.”

  I closed my eyes and sang the words melodically. I’d been at it for thirty minutes, trying to write a song about the climate of our world. Mother Earth was unhappy. We needed to do something to better our home on the Earth, otherwise we’d die with it or leave it. I liked our home, and with my platform I always tried to use it for the greater good to take a stand against the injustices around me. However, sometimes people needed a little fun and music to help them escape the sad reality of our world.

  I opened my eyes and sighed. I wanted my head to be in this song, and it wasn’t. Maddie had taken up my thoughts since he went for a walk, and I’d had trouble removing him from my head. I usually could escape reality with my music, but it seemed not this time.

  I set my journal and pencil down, then grabbed my favorite guitar. Nelly, my first guitar from my sixteenth birthday, had seen better days in our past. Her purple coloring had faded, showing splotches of the natural wood underneath. Whenever I had issues writing, I turned to her, like my very own old faithful. I had more expensive guitars that cost more than my first car now, but there was history engrained in Nelly’s wood. My fingers had scars from playing her so much. She was my tool to get me through the rough times.

  Those scars caressed the strings, and I closed my eyes again. Listening to the trees rustle and the wind chimes sing together in a tune of nature beyond my studio. My fingers moved without a thought to guide them, just unknown emotions directing their course.

  I hummed as the music filled me, my spirits lifted and drained away the struggling thoughts trying to consume me. Trying to force the muse to give me words to a song right now wasn’t what I needed. I needed to let myself loose and see what happened.

  “I feel lost and all alone.”

  I tilted my head to the sky.

  “But now he’s here, and it feels like coming home.”

  Warmth saturated beneath my skin, and I smiled from the glowing sensations within me. Those were the only words that came to me, but they felt right. They felt like the beginning of a story. No doubts lingered as to who inspired this song, but I would wait it out, see what other words my muses would gift me.

  My thoughts about Maddie didn’t seem so haunting after those few words. I still had immense confusion battling inside me, but my spine seemed a little taller. We’d pushed the elephant out of the room with our admissions and now we could move on. He could do his bodyguard thing and I would live my life with a grateful heart as I did before he showed up.

  With a smile on my lips, and a hopeful mindset, I played my favorite songs from other artists and danced around the room. Music cheered me up, and I wanted to laugh about the state of my life, not cry and embody anger.

  I sang until I felt silly. I strutted around my studio, leaning against my grand piano like it was a stage prop. I acted wild and free, like my normal self. When I finally put down my guitar and walked to the main house, my shoulders weren’t as tense and the smile remained on my lips.

  Maddie sat at the table with his tablet and didn’t glance up as I walked into the kitchen to grab a drink.

  “Feel better?” I cheerfully inquired, which caught his attention.

  “Yes, did you have fun?” He smirked, like he knew the silly Hazel had come out to play.

  “I did, in fact. Started writing a song about you. How you shake my house when you snore.” I stuck my tongue out and sat at the table across from him.

  “The second Hazel Kennedy single I inspired. You’re going to make my head even bigger than it alre
ady is.”

  I gave him a sheepish smile. I didn’t regret the song I wrote for him years ago, since it gave me my big break.

  “I harbor no anger toward you. I fucked up, and you’re the woman you were always meant to be.” He raised his eyebrow, giving me a chance to retort his words.

  But I wouldn’t. He was right. We both ceased talking for a moment. He read something on his tablet, and I sipped my orange juice. The tension that had threatened to suffocate us before seemed lighter, almost open, where we could let go of the past for now and see what happened in the future. I hadn’t forgiven him, but I didn’t hate him anymore. I understood the reason he had left and couldn’t fault him for it.

  In the beginning of learning my own powers, I’d made some damaging mistakes. I accidentally grew flowers in my hair when I became overjoyed. One time at the restaurant where I had waitressed, a particularly pissy customer had me so riled up, all the plants in the dining hall grew and turned the place into a jungle.

  Another time, I’d been on one of my hero jobs and a robber broke into a hippie store looking for pot. I wrapped him up in lavender from one of the planters in the window, only to find out he was allergic to lavender. I chocked the coincidence up to karma, giving the criminal a little justice, but I still paid for his allergy shots when he arrived at the hospital. Maybe if I’d knocked him out with my fists, he would have been OK, but I liked to think destiny intervened on my lavender decision.

  I’d been so caught up in thought, I didn’t notice his probing stare. Yikes!

  “Yeah, well they say everything happens for a reason right?” I drank my juice in hopes it would occupy my mouth long enough to not say something I’d regret.

  “My stuff is being delivered today. I figured as gracious as you are to host me in your home, you’d feel more comfortable if I didn’t live in your space. I have another arrangement in mind, so don’t mind the truck when you see it. I’ll be out and about the premises. You’ll be safe no matter what.”

  Another living arrangement? What was he going to do? Throw together a log cabin in a day?

  Chapter Eleven

  Hazel

  “You can’t be serious. Wouldn’t you rather be inside the house? Truly, it’s not a big deal,” I scoffed, looking at the twelve-foot by twelve-foot tent Maddox had assembled in a clear space of yard next to the house. There was even a tiny wood burning stove inside.

  “I’ve lived in worse.” He lifted a bag and tossed it inside. I mean, we both were homeless and would have sold our souls for a tent like this but seriously . . . I was a millionaire, and I could have something built for him. Hell, I could use my powers to build him something sturdier.

  “Seriously, Maddox, you’re going to live in a damn tent outside my house?” Flabbergasted, I did not understand why he’d give up my guest room for this. I even used his given name for emphasis, much like a mother would use to lecture her child.

  “I’m sorry if you feel the need to give me space. It was rough at first, but I feel better about the situation. We can be nice to each other now.” I lifted a handle to the portable shower head sitting next to a cooler, waiting to be organized in his tent. “I mean, at least you could use the toilet and shower inside. There is no need for this.” I pointed at the shower head accusingly. “If you piss outside, you’ll over fertilize my plants.” I might have been acting a little overly dramatic, but come on.

  “Hazel, if you don’t stop bickering, I’m going to find some eggplant and make you eat it,” he barked and continued working on his living space. I gagged with the thought of eggplant touching my tongue.

  “Yeah, well I’ll make peppermint grow in your tent.” Maddie hated all things peppermint. Christmas became his least favorite holiday because everything smelled like peppermint that time of year.

  “Hazel.” Maddie stopped working and crossed his massive arms over his equally large chest.

  “Fine. But when you get bitten on the ass by bugs, I don’t want to hear it.” I stomped back inside the house, speechless by what he did out there. Truthfully, I should be happy because I got the space I wanted. Part of me, however, didn’t like the idea of him out there, even though I knew he’d be OK.

  Focusing on many of the other things I had on my agenda, I powered up my computer to check over my social media accounts. I tried to respond personally on as many fan’s tags and comments as I could, but it became overwhelming. I browsed through my emails, checking for anything important and found a reminder for an interview tomorrow in downtown Seahill. I had almost forgotten about it. Shayla would have reamed me a new one. Maddie’s presence had messed with my mind and my normal routine. This email reminded me I still had a job to do, and I couldn’t putz around playing house with my old friend.

  After sending off a few emails and talking with Shayla for a few minutes, I strode into my room and picked out my clothes for tomorrow. Music City Magazine wanted to talk about my big album of the year win and what was to come. I’d done an interview with them before, even found myself half-naked on the cover with a guitar covering my breasts. They liked that I kept it real with them and their fans. I never bullshitted anyone, a rarely found trait these days.

  I packed a few more clothes, deciding that a few days in the city would be good for me. I’d get out among people and hear the sounds and stories that inspired me. Also, with Maddie knowing about my powers, I might be able to swing a little superhero action in the mix. Maybe he’d join in. He fought in the military, probably saved lives, it could be a common ground between us.

  I turned on the TV in my room to catch up on the news from the city. I plopped on the bed next to my suitcase. Some days, I despised the news, but then other days it inspired me to use my powers to help those who needed me. I’d been given my gifts for a reason, and I didn’t dare waste them.

  “We’re coming to you live from the Portobella where a man just burned himself with a fire poker to write something on his chest.” The reporter hustled toward a man being carried into an ambulance.

  “Sir, can you tell us why you did this to yourself? Are you protesting something?” The reporter pushed past the paramedics to get her mic close to the man. I hated reporters with aggressive journalism. The man obviously needed to get to the hospital, not to sit and have an interview.

  “She made me do it. The Collector is trying to send a message.” The burned man groaned and clutched his hands to his bare chest, where a paramedic tried to place gauze over.

  “Oh my God,” I gasped, my hands covered my mouth in shock. I reached for the TV and paused the news to stare at the man’s chest.

  “HK come to me,” had been burned into his skin. My insides turned to mush and fear paralyzed me to the bed. HK. It couldn’t be about me. I didn’t know that man or any particular collector. I tried not to draw conclusions that this message was meant for me, but my thoughts rolled over the possibility.

  Part of me wanted to run outside to tell Maddox. I sat for a few minutes and cooled my nerves. I chose the non-stupid path. I went to the door to where Maddox organized his tent, with his shirt off.

  Hazel

  I’ve seen men’s bodies before. I’ve danced on stage with hot guys shaking it and gyrating like they were having sex with invisible women around me. I’ve dated a model or two in my time. So to say Maddox was the hottest man I’d ever had the pleasure of gazing upon was not a cliché. Yes, in my head, Maddie graduated to Maddox because the Viking god Thor made the teenager I cared for into a god, too. My knees quivered and my hands twitched with desire to touch every inch of his sweat-coated chest.

  “Hazel?” My hooded eyes peered up to meet with his confused expression.

  “Yes, Maddox?” Apparently fifteen-year-old Hazel had taken over my brain and kept me in a lovestruck stupor. He chuckled and strolled closer until not even a foot lay between us. His hand reached up, and I forgot how to breathe.

  “You sprouted lavender.” His hand came back into my view with a piece of lavender in his grasp. Heat
flooded my cheeks, and I pushed fifteen-year-old me back in her room with her angsty teen drama. Adult Hazel was needed to handle this beast of a man.

  “I guess I needed a little extra calm scent to be around you.” I lifted my chin a little higher, hoping the confidence smothered the lie. Lavender was also known as the herb of love for its aphrodisiac properties. … so that little tidbit needed to stay secret between us.

  “Right.” He didn’t believe me.

  “I saw something on the news.” I stared him down, praying my flustered heart didn’t give me away. He grabbed his discarded shirt and lifted it to wipe the sweat beading against his brow.

  Oh dear baby snapdragons everywhere. The way his muscles flexed, the way his pants rode lower, following his happy trail made me hot all over.

  “You OK, Hazel?”

  “Yeah, the news. It . . . uh . . . weirded me out.” Something tickled my neck, and I smacked it away only to see something out of the corner of my eye hit the ground. Petals of blue and purple floated down as I tilted me head. Instantly I reached up and felt a fucking garden in my hair.

  “You sure you’re OK? Does that happen often?” His hand lifted to touch a flower and I waved his touch off, fearing what I might do.

  “Yep, all the time. Nothing to concern yourself about.” Lies, lies, lies. Apparently, I literally grew a garden when I got turned on by Maddox.

  The realization struck me, and suddenly the whole reason I came out here seemed small in comparison. I couldn’t get turned on by Maddox. I mean, sure I wanted us to be together when we were younger. He was cute back then, too, but I loved who he was on the inside the most.

  I didn’t know how to handle this version of him. Everything about him flustered me.

  “So, I saw on the news a man burned himself with a fire poker. He said a collector made him do it to send a message and it said, ‘HK, come to me.’ It’s the first I’ve seen anything about this, but it gave me the creeps. You haven’t heard anything, have you?”