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The Saving Angels Series: Books 1-3

Page 9

by Tiffany King


  “It’s a good thing I don’t have a sixth period class,” he said as he settled back in his chair. Looking down, he used the edge of his thumbnail to scrape an old piece of tape off the side of the desk.

  I watched him silently for a few moments, sensing he was embarrassed by his reaction to Matt. I should have felt angry that Mark had resorted to violence. I had always been against any kind of violence and had always shied away from it. But I wasn’t, I felt Matt deserved it and was touched by the intensity of Mark’s emotions for me.

  “I don’t feel like heading to class, I think I’m going to tell the school nurse I’m sick. I’ll wait for Sam at the park. Will you tell her for me?” I asked him.

  “Sure, I’ll send a note to her seventh period class. Do you want me to walk you over?”

  “No, I think we’ve caused enough trouble today, we don’t want to push the Dean any further.”

  Mark held out his hand to help me out of my chair. Once I was on my feet, he pulled me in his arms.

  “I’m sorry you got so sick.”

  “It comes with the territory, I’m just sorry you had to watch,” I grimaced, thinking that he had definitely seen me at my worse. Nothing was grosser than watching someone throw-up.

  “I’ve got to head back to class. Mr. Jackson wants me to go into more detail about the concentration camps and the role the Nazis had in them. I’ll meet you at your house after my meeting,” he said as he leaned down to peck me on the cheek.

  I raised my hand to my cheek after he left the room. My skin tingled where his lips had touched me. I paused a moment to catch my breath and tried to gather my thoughts. Maybe my peck earlier had given him a push in the right direction.

  I got the okay to go home from the school nurse and walked the half a block to the park, slowly taking in my surroundings as I walked. I loved seeing so much color; exotic flowers bloomed everywhere I looked. Back home spring would be on its way, but up north it was always a little slow to begin. Here, it already looked like the middle of summer. I watched as two birds fought over the same tasty treat on one of the lawns and smiled when the smaller one came out the victor.

  By the time I reached the park, my depleted energy was obvious and I gratefully settled on a low park bench that sat directly in the sun. I knew the heat from the sun would chase away the chills that always followed a bad episode.

  With drowsy eyes I watched the only occupants at the park. Most were young mothers who were chasing after their small toddlers. By the squeals of delight they gave out each time they were caught, this was obviously a favorite game.

  I smiled as I rested my head back and closed my eyes. The sun felt wonderful beating down on my face. The sounds of the children faded away, as I slipped into a nice peaceful slumber.

  I dreamed about him. Not the usual dream where we stood on our beach, but a more personal one where we were kissing. The dream was so real; I could feel the heat of his breath as he fanned kisses across the plains of my face. Each kiss left just the slightest bit of electricity across my face where his lips had touched. I felt warmth spreading up through my toes and expanding through all my limbs.

  I opened my eyes and saw the object of my fantasy sitting beside me.

  I flushed slightly. Could he tell that I had been dreaming about him kissing me? It was a surreal feeling to be dreaming about him one moment, only to awaken with him beside me.

  I sat up straighter, but grimaced when I felt a pinch in my neck from being in one position too long. Glancing at my watch, I was surprised to see that school was over.

  “I thought you had a meeting?”

  “I do. I just walked Sam over. I wanted to check on you before I headed to the meeting.”

  At his words, I noticed Sam standing to the side for the first time. Her face was clouded over.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It must have been pretty bad if you threw up,” Sam said.

  “What do you mean? Krista said throwing up is normal,” Mark interrupted.

  I pleaded with Sam with my eyes to drop it.

  Sam ignored my silent plea and plunged on. “He has to know Krista,” Sam said. “We made a pact that we would share everything. We’re never going to figure out the connection if we keep things from each other.”

  I knew she was right. We could have no secrets, but I also didn’t want him worrying about me unnecessarily.

  “We only throw-up when our emotions are completely out of control, and usually only when we’re scared. Trust me, growing up I threw-up many times from fear. Matt must have scared Krista a lot for her to get so sick,” Sam added.

  “Is that true?” Mark demanded.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled, “When I was younger, my parents sheltered me a lot when they figured out how sensitive I was. They found out early on, it was worse when I was scared. So, they made sure I was never frightened. I wasn’t expecting him to grab onto me, and it startled me. I didn’t mean to deceive you, you just seemed so mad already. I didn’t want to add to it.”

  “You can’t keep things from me. You have to trust me with everything,” Mark said quietly. “Are you feeling better now?”

  “Yes, the heat from the sun and the nap gave me back my strength,”

  Mark glanced at his watch, swearing softly as he stood up. “I have to go, but we’re going to talk about this again later.”

  He turned to Sam, “Did you call your foster mom?”

  “Yes, she’s on her way. She went home and packed an overnight bag for me. She said she would give us a ride to Krista’s house.”

  “Good,” he said.

  “I’ll see you both in awhile; make sure she takes it easy until I get there,” he told Sam as he turned and walked away.

  After he left, Sam sat down next to me. “Are you mad at me?” she asked, gnawing on the inside of her lip.

  I shook my head. “I should have told him the truth earlier, but I thought he would kill Matt. I have never seen someone so mad before. It was radiating off of him. Matt could feel it also. I could tell he was scared of Mark. To tell you the truth, I was glad he was scared, now maybe he will leave us alone.”

  Beeeeep!

  Sam and I looked up.

  “Oh, there’s my foster mom.”

  We both grabbed our school bags and headed toward the sleek BMW that was idling at the curb. Sam opened the car door and introduced me.

  “Krista, this is Karen, my foster mom. Mom, this is Krista.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Krista, thanks for keeping our girl company this past week. My husband and I have been up to our eyeballs in the case we’re handling. I can’t wait until the trial is over. Once it is, we can return the favor and you can stay overnight. Sam has talked about you non-stop and we’re so happy you moved here.”

  “I am too,” I said as I settled into the plush leather seats of the BMW. Boy, their car made ours look like a matchbox car, I thought as I inhaled the rich smell of the leather seats. “Otherwise, Sam and I would have never met,” I continued on.

  “She’s a special girl and we’re glad you’re friends.”

  Sam flushed at Karen’s words. I couldn’t help wondering if compliments about her had been few and far between growing up. Were these foster parents the first to ever show any interest in her?

  I felt an unfamiliar feeling of anger well up inside me. Why did parents abandon their children? Did they not care about the life they were condemning their children to? Sure, I had lucked out, but what about poor Sam.

  Karen pulled her car up in front of my house. Sam and I piled out while Karen popped the trunk open so Sam could grab her overnight bag. She handed Sam some money and told her to have a good time.

  Chapter 7

  We stowed Sam’s bags on the floor in my room before we headed back to the sitting room to listen to music. I turned the volume down so I could fill Sam in on what she had missed.

  “So, what’s the Dean going to do?” Sam asked after she heard all the details.
<
br />   “Mark’s not sure, he’s on some kind of probation and if word gets out about what he did to Matt, I’m sure the Dean would discontinue his study. We need to be careful over the next few months. I don’t want to ruin his whole career.”

  “That Matt’s a snake,” Sam muttered. “I wish I could have seen the look on his face when Mark grabbed his hand.”

  For the first time since it had happened, I could smile and appreciate the fact that Matt had gotten a taste of his own medicine for once.

  “You’ve got a point. You should have seen the look on his face. I thought he was going to wet his pants.”

  Both of us burst out laughing at the thought of Matt walking through the hall with wet pants. The Lush Trio wouldn’t think he was so hot then.

  “I don’t see Matt letting this slide,” Sam said, sobering both of us up.

  “I know. He can’t be trusted.”

  “So, your foster mom seems nice.” I said, changing the subject.

  “Yeah, they’re both nice; I lucked out when they placed me with them. They act like they like me or something.”

  “They do like you, you’re easy to like. All your other foster parents were just too stupid to realize it,” I stated.

  Embarrassed by the compliment, Sam stood up and started browsing through the books that lined the shelves. I turned up the music and picked up my current book, giving Sam privacy to digest the compliment. Sam selected a book and settled into the chair next to me.

  I peeked over at Sam whose cheeks were still slightly flushed; I looked down and began to read my own book. We sat in compatible silence. After a while, Sam looked up. “I’m glad we’re friends,” she said simply.

  “I am too.”

  We smiled at each other, in what I’m sure others would have called a cheesy kind of way. The time passed swiftly and before we knew it, Mark and Shawn were there with dinner.

  Sam and I bounded downstairs to open the front door for them with the same cheesy smiles on our faces from before. It should be sin to be as happy as we were.

  “Hi!” we said, greeting them in unison as they stepped over the threshold. I smiled brilliantly at Mark as he closed the door behind him.

  “Boy, you seem to be feeling better,” he observed.

  “I do! Sam and I have been vegging out all afternoon.”

  “I’m glad. I picked up burgers and fries for dinner. I hope that’s okay?” He asked holding up a beautifully greasy brown bag.

  “That’s perfect, I love fast food,” I said, acting like he didn’t already know.

  He laughed.

  “You and Sam can go upstairs. I’ll grab some plates and some sodas,” I said to Shawn. Shawn and I hadn’t done a whole lot of talking, and I still felt a little self conscious around him. Usually, Sam monopolized the conversation, or the guys would converse amongst themselves. They had spent hours philosophizing how we all managed to wind up together here. They had theories that ranged from mystical to science fiction, but it was hard to think of any reason that didn’t sound completely ridiculous to me.

  Mark and I headed to the kitchen and grabbed some paper plates, napkins, and sodas. We could hear the easy bantering between Shawn and Sam as we carried everything up to my loft. It seemed so strange to have so many people over. Growing up, my parents had lots of friends, but they usually hung out at their houses so I wouldn’t be uncomfortable around them. For the most part, it had always been us three, and then when my dad passed away, it was just the two of us.

  The four of us chatted while we filled up on junk food. We never seemed to run out of topics. We all have IQ’s that are higher than average, and we discovered that we have read many of the same books. Although, Shawn’s taste ran a little more toward sci-fi and Mark’s seemed more mystical, (which is how we wound up with the wide spectrum of theories). Sam and I were both diehard romantics, and loved many of the same classics.

  After we were done eating, I grabbed my laptop and booted it up. While the computer was warming up, Mark pulled out the small notebook we were using to write down the connections we all shared.

  I read over his shoulder as he added all the same books we had all read to the list. Sam and I named off others he had forgotten.

  “I made a list of more websites for us to check out,” he said. “I think we should Google the name ‘Franklin,’ and see what comes up. All this time I thought Franklin was the guy’s name, but now I’m wondering if that’s a cover. It bothers me that Krista mentioned ‘Franklin’ to the authorities, but couldn’t remember her mom or dads name,” he said.

  “Well, she was only two,” Sam piped in.

  “Yeah, but I think most two-year-olds can say their own name. We all know we’re smarter than average. So, how come most two-year-olds can tell you their parent’s names, but Krista couldn’t? Doesn’t that strike you as weird?” he asked. “I can’t help wondering if she was separated from her parents a long time before this ‘Franklin’ person dropped her off.”

  “I thought we already decided that this whole thing is weird,” Sam piped in once again.

  I settled on the floor with Sam and Mark on each side of me, while Shawn settled into the lazy-boy across from us. I clicked on the Internet icon and soon we were surfing the web. Technology is a wonderful thing.

  I typed in the name ‘Franklin’ on the Google screen. We could see that the list that popped up was endless and had multiple pages. I used the mouse to scroll down the list. Mark wrote down some that might be helpful. The first one on his list was for a trucking company named ‘Franklin and Sons.’ We all decided it made sense. Maybe a trucker dropped me off and used the name on the side of the truck. We all mulled it over, it seemed plausible.

  I clicked onto the ‘Franklin and Sons’ website. It opened to a full page ad that had a big semi-truck on it. I clicked the icon that showed the history of the company. We were all disappointed when we read that the company was founded only five years ago by a man and his two sons.

  “Well there goes that idea,” Sam commented.

  I exited out of that page and went back to the listings for Franklin. The next one on the list was for a pharmaceutical company. We discarded that one and moved on down the list. We searched for over an hour, but no other websites panned out. Finally giving up, I switched off the computer.

  “I need another soda,” Sam said, rising from her spot on the floor. “Does anyone else need anything?”

  “I do,” Mark and I both said in unison.

  “I’ll go with you,” Shawn said as we all laughed.

  Shawn grabbed Sam’s hand and gave her a quick but searing kiss before he led her down the stairs. I couldn’t help the shot of envy that sliced through me. I envied the ease they had. They seemed to know exactly what the other wanted and they were so attuned to each other, it was like watching an old couple waltz on the dance floor for the millionth time. They seemed aware of every move the other was going to make. I couldn’t help thinking despairingly that maybe Mark and I were not as good a fit as they were.

  I set the computer off to the side and turned to face Mark and saw that he was staring at me intently. My pulse sped up when he reached over and twirled a lock of my hair around his finger.

  “You are so beautiful. I’ve seen you hundreds of times in my dreams over the years, but they never did you justice,” he said, as if he sensed my insecurities.

  My breath came out in small shallow gasps as we stared intently at each other. Was this the moment I had waited for, was he finally going to kiss me? My palms began to sweat.

  I closed my eyes as he slowly leaned toward me.

  My eyes sprung open at the sound of Sam and Shawn bounding up the stairs.

  “Oops sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Sam said flushing a dull pink.

  Swallowing my disappointment, I heard Mark let out a small groan of frustration. I felt my heart lighten. Well, at least it seems like he wanted to kiss me this time, I thought to myself.

  Mark stood up. “We bet
ter head out,” he said to Shawn. “We’ll meet you guys tomorrow at the Boardwalk.”

  I stood up also. “That sounds perfect. My mom said I could borrow the car all day. She’s finally going to start painting tomorrow, so she’s looking forward to having the house to herself.”

  Sam and I walked the guys down the stairs. Sam followed Shawn out the front door and walked him to the car probably trying to give us privacy for interrupting us upstairs. Mark missed the hint though and only paused briefly; he used his palm to cup my face, but instead of kissing me, he gently rubbed his thumb over my bottom lip. I shivered from the contact and felt goose bumps pop up along my arms. Holy cow, if kissing him felt half as good as this, I knew I was a goner.

  “I’ll see you later,” he said.

  I smiled a little sadly. We both knew in just a few short hours we would be with each other in our dream world, and even though the dreams had taken a painful twist, neither one of us would give them up for anything.

  My mom arrived home just minutes after Mark and Shawn left. I couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief that the timing had worked out. I just wasn’t ready to cross that bridge and introduce Mark to her yet.

  “Hey girls, how was your evening?” My mom inquired, setting her overflowing bags on the settee that was against the wall just past the front door.

  “It was fun.” Sam and I burst out laughing as we answered at the same time again. We were like two halves that had been put back together.

  My mom smiled at our light hearted mood. “Do you girls have any interest in playing games with an old lady for a little while?”

  “Mom, you’re not an old lady,” I protested, standing up to get some games.

  “Ugh.” I groaned dismayed, as I began the search for a deck of cards that was buried somewhere within a cluster of games spilling off the overflowing shelves. How the closet had gotten this bad when we only had been in the new house for a few short weeks was beyond me. I lifted the Monopoly and Pictionary games out of the way and caught the Scrabble board as it slid out of its torn box. Finally, I spied the cards shoved all the way in the back. Juggling the games with one hand, I plunged my free hand toward the back of the shelf and groped around for the cards, praying silently that my hand wouldn’t encounter any creepy crawlies. I detested bugs and usually strayed away from placing my hand into dark corners.

 

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