by Lisa Jackson
“Bastard!” Todd yelled. “Cocksucker!”
“Cretin!” Jon screamed.
Todd kneed him in the groin and he doubled over, water still spraying everywhere and washing down the back of his neck. In that moment he saw an image in his mind of Todd, coughing and crying, water filling his lungs, drowning. Jon froze. “It’s gonna happen to you,” he yelled between gasps for air. “You’re the one who’s gonna drown…”
“Shut up, Summers. You don’t scare me.”
“I’m serious.” Jon tried to look at the other boy over his shoulder, to convince him. “Todd, it’s gonna happen!”
“Like hell!” Again the rumble and gush of the urinal.
The vision was clearer—Todd was trying and failing to swim. “The lake—or river—or—” Again the flood of water and Jon gave up, the vision leaving as he tried to gasp for breath.
“Stay away from Jennie!” Todd ordered again and suddenly the room changed. Still coughing and barely breathing, Jon felt it. People had cleared out.
“What’s going on here?” a hard male voice demanded. Mr. Jones, the algebra teacher and varsity track coach.
Neider’s grip on his neck slackened, and Jon, soaked to the skin, slid on the wet floor.
“Come on, you two. I think it’s time you took a walk down to the office. The rest of you get to your classes or you’ll all be suspended, too.” He shepherded them out the door, and Jon, dripping and mortified, started toward the office when he saw her. His heart dropped and he wanted to die.
Jennifer Caruso’s choir class was in the hallway by the auditorium, waiting to enter. She was with a group of girls laughing and talking until her gaze landed on Jon and she bit her lip. Conversation stopped as they passed and several girls tittered at the sight of Jon.
“Take a shower?” nerdy Dwight Little muttered as Jon walked by.
“Would ya look at that?” Belinda Cawthorne frowned in disgust, as if he were covered in maggots.
“I guess Jon didn’t see Neider coming. All those visions and what good are they?” Dwight was enjoying someone else being the brunt of jokes.
“Don’t worry, he’ll run to his mama and she’ll talk to the sheriff,” Belinda said in her goody-goody know-it-all voice.
“I heard he took a drink from the urinal.”
“Shut up, Little, you’re so gross!”
But Belinda and several other girls laughed. Jon prayed the earth would open up and swallow him whole. Every shred of pride he’d had, every ounce of self-respect, had been flushed away.
Jennifer didn’t say a word, just stared after him, and he refused to meet her eyes. Deep in his heart he knew he’d never find the guts to call her. Not now. Not after Todd Neider had stripped away all of his dignity. A lot of good Daegan’s lessons had done him. He scowled more darkly as they rounded the corner to the vice principal’s office. He didn’t want to think about Daegan. The guy was leaving town—just walking out of Hopewell as if he didn’t give a damn. As if Jon and his mother didn’t care.
Grinding his back teeth together, he decided the less he thought of O’Rourke the better, but he couldn’t help feeling that he’d been betrayed. The same way he felt when old Eli had kicked off, except this was worse. Eli hadn’t had a choice when he’d left. O’Rourke had.
Kate hauled her briefcase from the car and tried, as she had for the past five days, not to dwell on the fact that she’d obviously lost her heart to Daegan and that he was leaving soon. Just when she was learning to trust again, just when she’d convinced herself it was time to love again, just after she’d felt the joy and elation of falling in love, he was taking off.
“Pathetic,” she muttered and told herself it was probably for the best. Houndog yipped from inside the house and Jon was waiting for her at the door. His eyes were dark and sullen, his face bruised on one side. “Don’t tell me,” she said, tired from the inside out even though fresh rage was burning through her blood. “Todd Neider.”
“Yeah.”
“Do I want to know what happened?”
Jon shook his head. “The good news is that I’m not suspended again and I didn’t lose any teeth.”
“And the bad news?” she asked, bracing herself.
“I got the crap kicked out of me.” His discolored jaw tightened. “And I’m never going back to school.”
She started to argue with him, but thought better of it. He needed to work this out and so did she. She itched to pick up the phone and call the school, the police, Daegan, anyone who would be her son’s ally in this ongoing and dangerous battle, but instead she tried to hang on to her rapidly fleeing patience. “Tell me what happened,” she encouraged and set her briefcase on the entry hall table calmly when she wanted to scream and rant and rave.
“There’s not much to tell,” he said, trying to squirm away.
“I need information, Jon.”
“Oh, hell,” he said, then looked at the floor. “Okay, Neider was mad at me for talking to Jennifer Caruso.”
“His girlfriend?”
“In his dreams,” Jon said, and Kate, still so furious she felt like she might explode, held her tongue. She’d known that Jon had a crush on someone, but so far had never heard a name. “Anyway, he came at me and we got into it and…oh, man…” He sighed loudly, crossed his arms over his chest, and reluctantly gave her the blow by blow, his face awash with color.
“I can’t believe it,” Kate said, sick inside when she realized how mortified her son was.
“Yeah, but even though I was in a fight with him, enough kids stuck up for me and told McPherson the truth—that Todd started it and there was no way I could back down. McPherson didn’t really buy that, he’s the kind of guy who thinks there’s always a way to avoid a fight, but he knows what’s gone on in the past. So he suspended Todd for a week. I think Neider’s dad had to come in because he might even be expelled.”
“Good.” Kate had had it. Even though the Neider boy never caught many breaks in life, it didn’t make it right that he was always picking on younger, weaker kids. “I want to swear out a complaint against him. Then I’ll tell his father that—”
“No!”
“What, but Jon—”
“What good did it do before? You talked to the sheriff and Daegan, he”—Jon’s voice cracked—“he went over to Neider’s place. All that did was get Todd a beating and make him madder. At me.”
“He’s a menace and dangerous and this time is different because you’ve got witnesses. Kids that will stick up for you and tell the police what happened. It’s not speculation. And if as you say, his father’s abusing him, then it’s only right that Todd be placed in a foster home and—”
“No! Oh, man, he’d kill me! No police.” Jon dug his heels in. “Just stay out of it.”
“I can’t!”
“The school’s handling it.”
“But next time it could be worse. I can’t stand by and let some bully—”
“I mean it, Mom,” he said in a voice that was so deadly calm it scared her. “If you go into the school and make a big stink or go see the sheriff again, it’ll only be worse. Already the kids think I’m some kind of pansy because of you. So don’t. McPherson will call you. You don’t have to do any more. Besides—” He hesitated a second and he worried his lip. “I have this feeling…that Todd’s gonna be in serious trouble.”
“With his father?”
“Yeah, but it’s more than that…”
“What?”
He shook his head. “Just leave it alone. Besides, it doesn’t matter. I’m never going back to school anyway.”
“Of course you are.”
“No, Ma, I’m not,” he said with such gritty determination she nearly believed him. “Never again.”
“You’ll change your mi—”
“I won’t. Not after today.” Jon was defiant, his eyes narrowing as if he hoped she’d argue with him, as if he still itched for a fight. Whistling to the dog, he strode through the back door, and Houn
dog, clumps of fur still uneven, darted outside.
Kate’s fingers curled over the edge of the counter in a death grip. She wanted to run after her son and have this battle right now, but she knew instinctively that she had to give him a little time and space; they’d talk later, after dinner, when they were both calmer. But she was sick inside, her stomach churning, her anger snapping through her bones. Slowly and surely, Jon, the baby she’d adopted fifteen years before, was slipping through her fingers. It didn’t matter that the visions he’d had months ago hadn’t come true, that the man he feared hadn’t shown up, just as certainly he was being ripped from her by his growing up. And she wasn’t ready.
But he was right about one thing: she couldn’t keep treating him as if he were seven.
Shoving her hair out of her eyes, she glanced out the window toward the copse of pine trees and the old McIntyre spread beyond. She suddenly felt hollow inside, the same emptiness she’d experienced from the moment Daegan had walked out her front door on Thanksgiving. It was silly, really, she thought as she poured the remainder of this morning’s coffee down the sink and dumped the filter of wet grounds into the trash. She’d found herself listening for the sound of his truck or making up silly little excuses to go visit him—which she’d never done, thank God. She’d told Jon to avoid any contact with Daegan. He’d made it all too clear on Thanksgiving that he didn’t want to get too close to them, that he planned to move, that in a matter of days or weeks he’d be gone. Whatever it was that had held him here had lost its allure.
Jon, standing under the old apple tree, looked suddenly like a man, much older than his fifteen years. Yes, he’d be leaving soon and she’d be alone. Just as she’d been before Tyrell Clark had changed the course of her life forever.
Houndog spied a ground squirrel in the wood pile and took off at a gallop. Jon’s gaze followed the pup then moved farther away to the horizon and old Eli’s cabin. Jon, too, was missing Daegan. How had she let that happen, she wondered, how had she let Daegan O’Rourke become so integral in their little family?
“Found him,” VanHorn said through chattering teeth. Damn but it was cold and that howling wind—as swift as a freakin’ hurricane. He was in a phone booth outside the local watering hole and a few drinks plus the knowledge that he’d finally located the boy elated him. He heard Robert’s swift intake of breath.
“Where?”
Neils glanced up and down the main street where only a few pickups and cars pushed the speed limit. “Oregon. The town, if you can call it that, of Hopewell.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Not too many people have. Believe me it’s nowhere. A good place to get lost.”
“How is he?” Robert’s voice shook with emotion.
“Fine, fine, a great kid,” Neils lied, unwilling to pass along the information that the boy seemed to be an odd duck, that people felt sorry for his pretty little mother, that the kid was more than a handful and getting in trouble at school. No reason to upset Sullivan or give him a chance to have second thoughts. To tell the truth, the kid’s reputation bothered Neils, and the sooner he was out of this Sullivan mess, the better. All he wanted was his money—truckloads of it. “I’ll bring him to you, Mr. Sullivan,” Neils promised. “Within the week.”
“Good, good, now, what about the mother?”
“She might be a problem.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“From what everyone says, she’s crazy about the kid.”
“Then you’ll just have to persuade her it would be in her best interests as well as the boy’s for him to return to Boston. She wouldn’t want to face formal charges of kidnapping, would she? How would her son feel about her then?”
“Good point, but there is one other slight problem,” Neils admitted, wondering how much he should divulge. If his gut instincts were right about Jon’s parentage, Robert might call him off, but if he held too much back, the old man wouldn’t trust him.
“What problem?” Robert asked, sounding bored.
“Daegan O’Rourke.”
“What about him?”
“He’s here, too.”
“What the hell’s he doing there?” Robert was suddenly interested again. Good.
“Don’t know, but I imagine he’s looking for Bibi’s son. I think they talked. She spent a couple hours in Montana on a layover of a flight to San Francisco a couple of months back. She must’ve told him to start searching for the boy.”
“But why?”
“Don’t know,” Neils lied, already having put two and two together. If he wasn’t mistaken, O’Rourke was the kid’s real father. How about that? Frank’s bastard siring one of his own—with his first cousin. Good-time Bibi getting it on with her black sheep of a cousin and having his illegitimate kid. Boy, would that make some of those stuffy old Sullivan ancestors roll over in their graves! Robert would probably have himself a heart attack and not have to worry about the damned prostate cancer. “But I intend to find out everything I can about Kate Summers and O’Rourke, as well as the kid.”
Old Eli’s cabin creaked in the wind that moaned across the valley. Daegan sipped coffee and knew that he couldn’t put off the inevitable. He’d called a travel agent yesterday and his flight was scheduled for six this evening. He’d drive to Bend, take a small plane to Portland, and then hop aboard a red-eye that stopped in Chicago before landing in Boston, where he planned to square off with his uncle. It was time to own up to everything—put his cards on the table, then threaten Robert with a scandal that would ruin the Sullivan name forever if the old man didn’t back off.
Still, despite his eagerness to confront Robert, Daegan was leery of leaving Jon unguarded. Daegan’s Boston PI, Sandy Kavenaugh, had confirmed that Neils VanHorn had left town, so Daegan had stuck around here wondering if old Neils would show his face. Was he in Hopewell or somewhere else barking up the wrong tree? That was the part that bothered Daegan. He couldn’t stay here and protect Kate and square off with Robert at the same time. According to Sandy, VanHorn was a little on the shady side, but he’d never been involved in anything overtly illegal. VanHorn might try to persuade Kate that she had to give up custody, but she would stand firm and he wouldn’t force the issue. Or so Daegan hoped. He was counting on Neils’s integrity and that worried him.
So Daegan would cut his trip to Boston short. Once he’d dealt with Robert, he’d be back and this mess would be straightened out. Robert and the rest of the Sullivans would back off, VanHorn would return to Boston, Kate would have full never-to-be-doubted custody of her boy, and Daegan would move to Montana and never see them again.
That was the part that was the most difficult. “Hell,” he muttered under his breath. The first order of the day would be the toughest, saying good-bye to Kate and Jon. He couldn’t leave them without ending it once and for all. He had no choice but to turn his back on them in order to ensure that they would be safe from the Sullivans forever.
A sour taste filled the back of his mouth, and a deep rendering, a pain like none he’d ever imagined, tore at his soul. Never in his life had he wanted home and hearth—a wife and kid. No, he’d believed himself to be a loner. He had shunned the family who hadn’t wanted him in the first place and become a man who needed no one—not even his own mother. Now, after meeting Kate and Jon, he doubted his deepest convictions.
He finished his coffee in one gulp and refused to dwell on everything he found fascinating about Kate—her whiskey-colored eyes, her soft little smile, or the sheen of her hair when the sun’s rays set it on fire. He’d make a point of forgetting how beautiful her breasts were, forgetting the soft contented sighs deep in her throat when he kissed her.
Nor would he allow himself to remember how easy his relationship had become with Jon, how natural, how he looked forward to spending hours with the boy teaching him everything from shoeing a horse to shoring up a sagging fence post. “Idiot,” he muttered as he kicked back his chair and tossed the remains of his coffee into the staine
d sink.
Snow piled against the windows, and the lack of insulation was evident in the drafty kitchen. It was amazing old Eli had lasted as long as he had living in these conditions.
Turning his collar against the wind, Daegan dashed through the drifts to his pickup and hoped that he could catch Jon before the boy took off for school. It was best to get this over with. Now or never. He was going to say good-bye to a son who would never know him.
Chapter 21
The images came on so quickly, biting into Jon’s consciousness as he worked the bar of soap into a lather in the shower.
Soaping up one arm, he felt an odd tenderness around his wrist, and suddenly both forearms were bruised and raw, encased in unforgiving steel bands.
Handcuffs.
The soap dropped to the shower floor as he held his arms up to the warm spray and studied his skin. Nope, normal. All a trick of his mind, which was the last thing he needed this morning, his first day back at school.
He reached for the shampoo bottle and leaned against the shower wall, trying to relax as hot beads of water pelted his skin. How could his mother think it would be good for him to get back to school? Despite his protests, she and McPherson had cooked up this morning’s plan, clueless to the dangers that awaited him there. Maybe the halls were safe for a normal kid, but he was no normal kid. Hard to believe that after all this time, his mom still didn’t get it.
His fingers raked through his hair, scraping lather over his scalp. A glob of foam ran down over one eye. When he quickly swiped it away and opened his eyes, he was staring out through bars—some sort of metallic cage. Staring out through dark glass windows as a blur of landscape raced past the speeding vehicle that propelled him forward against his will.
What the hell…? Panic surged through him as he flattened his palms against one window and banged in desperation. He had to get out! Why couldn’t anyone see him, hear his cries? His hands coiled into fists that pounded the glass in desperation.
