Second Sight (Sojourner Series Book 3)

by Maria Rachel Hooley

  “You do realize you’re trespassing, right? And there may be livestock in that field?”

  “I’ll only be a minute.” As I start toward the trees, I hear Kane tromping after me. He’s big, and he’s anything but silent.

  “You’re acting really weird,” Kane finally says, catching up with me as I head into the stand where Lev must have gone, and for the next ten minutes, I walk around tall trees whose branches claw upwards and blot out the sun. Then, as I find myself circling the same area repeatedly, I stop, suddenly more tired than I ever believed I could be. It was Lev. I know it was. The pressure of grief is building in my chest again, and I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to keep it at bay, so I stride through the trees and out of the forest so I can see the road and my Jeep. Kane’s SUV is parked behind my vehicle, and it’s obvious from the red flash and dazzle his parents have a lot more money than Jimmie.

  “Lizzie, wait.” He follows quickly on my heels, but I have to get away. I can barely breathe as it is. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

  He catches me at the fence, and my hand fumbles on one of the rusted barbs, tearing the flesh. That’s when he grabs the wires and shove them apart so I can slip between them. The sharp pain in my thumb from the barb prompts me to study the flesh between, glancing to make sure the road is clear. It takes him a moment to slip through the fence, and by that time, I’m already at the Jeep, opening the back door. He puts those long legs to use and runs after me.

  “What is going on?” he asks breathlessly.

  “I have a flat.” I tug open the back and reach for the jack, but as soon as Kane sees it, he pulls it out of my hands.

  “Here, I’ll do it.”

  “What?” I demand. “Don’t you think I can do it?”

  He shakes his head. “Not with that hand you just ripped open on the barbed wire. Have you had a tetanus shot recently?” He unfastens the spare from the back of the Jeep.

  “Last year.” I unfurl my fist and look at the cut. Still bleeding, of course. The gash is about an inch long, but, luckily, not very deep; still, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting.

  “Well, I guess that’s one thing in your favor.” He loosens the lug nuts, assembles the jack, and begins pumping the vehicle into the air.

  “What are you doing here?” Sweat dapples my forehead, and I brush my hand across it.

  “Changing your tire.” He glances at me and realizes that’s not what I mean. “I was heading home, Lizzie, and when I spotted you alongside the road, I figured you had some kind of car trouble. You don’t seem like the mechanic type.”

  “I’m not,” I admit, wishing right about now I were.

  “So, who is this guy you thought you saw?”

  “My ex-boyfriend.” I swallow hard and look down at him, trying to gauge his expression, but then things get really weird. Although the sun shimmers down around us without a single cloud to dampen its brilliance, there is kind of a dark film surrounding Kane in the same place where Lev’s wings would have shimmered. At first, I wonder if I’m seeing things, but even after I blink and wipe my eyes, the film is still there. So, he’s not exactly your average, everyday Joe, either, I muse. That would explain how he got to me in the center of the road so fast he was able to pull me to safety when I didn’t think I could run away fast enough to avoid the semi.

  I just keep blinking, thinking I’ve got to be seeing things because right now, the last thing I need is another angel in the mix. And why is it he’s fixated on me? Am I a supernatural freak magnet? I should be laughing at the absurdity, but somehow it isn’t funny.

  “What are you staring at?” Kane stops removing the lug nuts and turns to me. His hand hovers in place, waiting for me to say something, but I’m not sure what it’s going to be.

  “You,” I finally mutter, exhaling slowly, trying to even my breathing. “You remind me of someone.” My heart is racing, and I can’t seem to curb the speed.

  “Who?”

  “Lev Walker.” Maybe if he’s really an angel, that answer will jar his behavior into giving something away.

  “Never met him.” He turns his focus back to getting the ruined tire off and replacing it. “Who is he?” A strand of hair falls into his eyes, and he brushes it away with the back of his hand, careful not to rub his greasy fingers across his face.

  “My last boyfriend.”

  “Boy, does that sound ominous.” He shakes his head and re-tightens the nuts.

  You have no idea, I think, watching him lower the jack until all four wheels are back on the ground.

  “Looks like you’re good as new,” he says, slipping the ruined tire and jack in the back of the Jeep.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He’s still wearing a casual smile, but it doesn’t feel like no problem. I feel like a big problem most days. “So how about going out with me sometime? It doesn’t have to be any big deal. We could go as friends, you know.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I say, heading to the driver’s side.

  “Think hard,” he says, watching me climb into the Jeep and start the engine. Although he’s walked back to the SUV, I still see him standing there, watching me drive away, a wistful look in his eyes.

  Chapter Eleven

  When I get back to the house, I notice a red convertible parked next to Jimmie’s old truck. The contrast between the two vehicles is stark. Not recognizing the car, I feel my shoulder muscles tense, and I have to force myself out of the Jeep rather than just driving away again. The fact that Jimmie’s already home when he shouldn’t be off work for another hour bothers me, but I just keep telling myself it’s nothing. I’m a firm believer that if you say anything enough, you’ll start to believe it.

  Or not.

  Ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I force myself to trudge up the walk, my book bag slung across one shoulder. I take a deep breath and slip inside the house, where I hear muted laughter, signaling our house guest is a she. From there, I don’t have to be a brain surgeon to realize who she is, considering Jimmie is here for the first time in a while before sunset.

  Although I’d love to just slip off to my room undetected, it’s not going to happen, I know, seeing Jimmie on the couch with Theresa. He’s turned sideways so he can look directly at her as she leans against the couch and coyly plays with a gold necklace. Her white cotton peasant blouse accentuates her full breasts, and she smiles madly as Jimmie talks. He’s wearing worn jeans and a faded Journey t-shirt, white sneakers and a ball cap. No matter how I try, I can’t imagine them together as a couple. Then again, I’m not really sure whom I see Jimmie with.

  “Hey, Lizzie!” Jimmie says as he spots me trying to sneak past. “Could you come in here for a minute?” Any other time, in any other situation, I’d welcome that broad smile Jimmie’s got pasted across his face; in my book, Jimmie doesn’t smile enough. He’s too filled with worry. But it bothers me how he just keeps looking at Theresa. It’s disturbing on so many levels.

  “Okay. I’m here.” I step into the room and fold my arms across my abdomen.

  “I don’t suppose you remember Theresa.” He nods toward his guest. “She’s a nurse at the hospital in Knoxville.”

  “Oh, I remember.” I’m working hard to keep my tone civil. I know Jimmie has a right to date anyone he wants, but I’d rather it not feel like a sneak attack.

  Theresa turns to me, a huge grin on her face, but unlike Jimmie, the warmth never quite reaches her eyes. Her long black hair falls straight on either side of her face in a sheet of black silk. She’s beautiful; there’s no doubt about that. What’s the old expression? Lovely but deadly?

  “You look much better than the last time I saw you,” she purrs, unsettling me with her gaze. Her voice is smooth and seductive, but strangely enough, it’s not working on me like it does Jimmie.

  “All better,” I agree.

  “Why don’t you have a seat,” Jimmie says, gesturing to the recliner, which is yet another reason
this feels so uncomfortable—Jimmie always chooses the recliner, yet here he is, on the couch with Theresa. Maybe it is stupid to sense something wrong with this. Then again, maybe I just know Jimmie that well.

  “Um, maybe later. Right now I’m looking for Griffin. Do you know where I can find him?”

  “Sure,” Jimmie says. “He and a friend are in the back yard.”

  “A friend?” Surprise number two. I frown, wondering who that could be and why anyone would drive all the way from Hauser’s Landing for a visit with Griffin. I mean if it were Griffin’s father, Jimmie wouldn’t have used the word friend. Still, I think, walking through the house to the back door, there’s only one way to find out.

  Pushing open the screen door, I’m really not prepared for the scene before me. Griffin and Jayzee sit in the grass together, laughing and talking rather like Jimmie and Theresa. If I weren’t already on edge, after seeing my guardian and my best friend acting the whole Stepford part would have done it. I’d just as soon go back inside, but Jayzee hears the door squeal and turns, offering me a big smile.

  “Hey, I just dropped by to see if you got a chance to ask about Friday night yet.” Her hand is just inches from Griffin’s, and all this cuddling is making me nauseated.

  Outwardly, I smile; inwardly, I groan with the realization of what is coming. I’m actually going to have to go back into the living room and ask, even though I’m not sure I even want to spend the night at Jayzee’s. The only thing I’ve got going for me is that the answer is probably going to be a no which would be just fine with me.

  “No, I didn’t get a chance. Give me a sec and I’ll find out.” I feel like a ping pong ball bouncing from one room of lovebirds to another. Still, I force myself to trudge back to the living room to settle my plans for the weekend. When I enter, Jimmie doesn’t even realize I’m standing in the doorway, awkwardly watching the two of them engaging in flirty banter.

  But once I loudly clear my throat, he definitely senses my presence and tears his gaze from Theresa’s.

  “Hey, Lizzie.”

  I’m really beginning to get annoyed with feeling like an interloper. I don’t think I’ve ever been this uncomfortable around Jimmie before. Now Griffin, that’s a totally different story. He seemed like such a jerk when I first met him it took quite a while to see the real guy.

  Taking a deep breath, I plunged into my spiel. “Would it be all right if I spent the night over at Jayzee’s on Friday?” I pause, praying he won’t ask any further questions, but then again, I know Jimmie. He’s all about asking the right questions. I nod toward the back yard. “Jayzee is the girl outside. She came to find out if I’d asked you yet so she’d know.” I’m not sure he really cares why Jayzee is over here, but I can’t seem to stop myself from talking. I feel like I’m babbling wildly, kind of like when I’ve had a zillion sodas and the caffeine has kicked in. I can’t really seem to shut up then, either.

  Jimmie slowly nods. “Yeah, that would be fine. Just make sure you have your cell charged. I need to be able to reach you.”

  I blink in shock. Just like that, I’m ungrounded. So I can do normal things which don’t revolve around drive-bys and angels, not that Jimmie has a clue Jayzee is an emancipated minor who could get me in so much more trouble than he thinks. He’s insane. Truly.

  Shaking my head, I say, “All righty, then. I’ll let her know.” I trudge back outside to find Jayzee and Griffin leaning toward each other, lost in that mesmerizing moment just before a kiss. I clear my throat loudly, and both of them jump back, a flush creeping across Griffin’s face.

  “Jimmie didn’t have a problem with it, so I guess we’re on for Friday,” I manage, but truthfully I’d rather be anywhere besides the local love shack this house has suddenly become.

  Jayzee beams at me. “Cool. I’m really looking forward to it.”

  That makes one of us, I think, unsure exactly how I feel. Part of me thinks the image of Griffin and Jayzee almost kissing has something to do with that, but it’s hard to know for sure. The only thing I’m positive about is that neither Jayzee nor Theresa appear to be leaving any time soon, so that’s my exit cue. If I don’t, I’ll go mad.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” I say and don’t hang around for some big farewell scene. Instead, I slip inside, trying to whisk right past the other two before they even realize I’m there, but no such luck. I have my hand on the front doorknob when Jimmie peers at me.

  “Lizzie? Where you off to in such an all-fired hurry?”

  “Just to take a few pictures at the cemetery,” I reply, opening the door.

  He saunters towards me. “Theresa is going to join us for dinner, and I’ll ask Griffin if he’d like his guest to stay as well. Spaghetti sounds good, right?”

  I smile again. “Sure, Jimmie. Sounds great. I’ll be back soon.”

  Jimmie steps in my path. “Come on, Lizzie. Why do you need to go to the cemetery? Stay here and spend some time with me and Theresa.”

  The ick factor has just reached an all-time high, and while I’m okay with Jimmie, I’m not sure I’ll ever be okay with Theresa. It’s not that I begrudge Jimmie getting a life. It just seems like they fell madly in love so quickly it’s unnatural.

  I shake my head. “It looks like you and Theresa are doing just fine without a third wheel.” I tug the door open. “But I’ll be back in time for dinner. Promise.”

  For a second he wavers, and I think I see the old Jimmie surface in his eyes, but then his gaze darts to Theresa, and I’ve lost him again. To her. This is too damned weird for me.

  “All right,” he finally agrees. “Just be careful, Lizzie. It may be a small town, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t a lot of freaks running around.”

  “Don’t worry,” I retort, opening the door. “I think where I’m going, all the freaks are already dead.” Without waiting for a response, I slip out the door, quickening my steps so I can get away from this madness as soon as possible. I’m not sure what is going on right now. All I know is no one I know is acting like they should, and it makes me tired. If Lev were here….

  But he isn’t. And he never will be again. My jaw clenches with that thought, and my shoulders stiffen. God, I miss him. I try to shake off that thought as I climb into the Jeep and start the engine, grateful to feel the wind soon rippling through my hair. More than once, I’ve thought about taking the hard-shell top off, but it’s really not easy to lift, so I content myself with the windows rolled down so I can feel the air stirring around me.

  The whole drive, I’m battling with thoughts about Lev. I keep trying to tell myself there is no point in going there. It hurts too much, and he isn’t going to save me this time. I want to believe it’s because he can’t. Actually, I have to believe that because if he is staying away for some other reason, it’s only going to cut that much deeper in the end.

  As I pull into the cemetery parking lot, I realize it’s deserted, just like the last time I came, which is a good thing, in my book as long as the person I came to see still sits on that bench. I need a vote of sanity, and the only person I can think of who qualifies without strings attached is Bob. Maybe he can’t make all of this any more bearable than it is, but at least he can try to bring some kind of reason into it.

  I get out and find I’m in luck as I see him huddled toward his wife’s grave, his withered old hand resting atop the stone. Part of me cringes, knowing what it must cost him every time he comes out here. I carefully walk among the stones, watching so I don’t step on any graves. I’m not superstitious or anything, just respectful. I’ve loved too many people who have wound up dead not to think maybe some part of them sees the living long after we give up on them being here. It takes a few moments to get to Bob, and as I step closer to his wife’s grave, I see he is pulling weeds. His hands are trembling again, and it looks taxing for him so I step closer and kneel.

  “Here, let me help,” I say, my hands reaching for the clumps of crab grass noticeably taller than the grass around them.<
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  “Thank you,” he says in a breathy voice. “My body just doesn’t work the way it once did, Lizzie.”

  “You’re welcome.” I pull up the weeds I can see, then turn toward where he has sat down on the bench. “You see any others?”

  “Nope. Great job.” His face is kind of wan, and he wipes his hand across his sweaty forehead. A couple of places on his white cotton button-down shirt are spotted with perspiration, testimony of his effort to keep his wife’s grave as beautiful as he can make it, even now. He closes his eyes and ducks his head a little, as though trying to catch his breath.

  “You all right?” I ask, rising. I wipe my hands on my pants and step toward him, hating how something as simple as tending a cemetery plot taxes him so much. It really isn’t fair.

  He takes a deep breath and offers a weak smile. “I’ll be fine, Lizzie.” He pats the bench next to him. “How are you?”

  “Been better.” I brush the hair from my face, wishing I’d drawn it into a ponytail or braided it—anything to keep it out of my face.

  “How so?” he looks at his wife’s grave, but I can tell he’s listening. He’s the only person in my life who seems to listen, and we’re not even related.

  “It’s just really crazy at home, and I’d rather be anywhere else, if you want to know the truth.”

  “How come? What’s going on?”

  I take a deep breath, watching the soft breeze tease through the leaves overhead, gently swaying the branches. The sun pours through the green, dappling the ground. I wish I knew how to put all this into words someone could understand without thinking I’m nuts because I’m not. It just seems like everything else is.

  “Go on, Lizzie.” He pats my knee. “Sounds like you need somebody to talk to.”

  “My guardian, Jimmie, suddenly seems to have found this woman, and he’s…inseparable from her. The same thing with my best friend. He’s met one of my new friends, and I can’t seem to pry them apart, either.” Half of me wonders if this, too, has to do with Lev. Would I be this jealous if he were here? Or would I be completely happy and oblivious?