by Wendi Wilson
“They used to do that shit to me all the time,” he says. “Thought it was real funny to make me act stupid in front of the ladies.”
I look from him to Silas, then Slade, who both smile unabashedly. Jared is smiling, too, so he obviously didn’t mind since it was all in good fun. I shake my head at them, and their smiles grow.
Jared rubs his hands together. “So, where do we start?”
The boys direct him into the living room and I follow behind, my nerves ratcheting up. I haven’t tried to use my ability in months. There just hasn’t been a need. And the last time…
“Slade,” Savanna said, her voice deep and powerful, “When I say the word go, I want you to walk toward me slowly, counting to three between each step. If you reach me, you have to kiss me.”
I looked at Slade, and his eyes glazed over as he nodded his head. The room exploded with denials, Savanna’s name being echoed by several people. She ignored them all, keeping her pleading eyes glued to mine.
“You can stop him. I know you don’t want him to kiss me any more than I do.”
Her look turned knowing, and heat rushed to my face. I hadn’t told anyone about my budding feelings for the boys, especially not the boys themselves.
“Feel the emotion,” she continued. “Wrangle it, push it out of you. That’s it.”
Wyatt, Beckett, and Jett quieted, but they still wore unhappy expressions. Savanna smiled at them, and they just shook their heads at her. They didn’t like it any more than I did, but they weren’t going to interfere.
Savanna looked back at Slade and widened her stance. “Go.”
“One, two, three,” he counted, then took a step forward.
“Slade, stop,” I said, making my voice as firm as I could.
“One, two, three.” Another step.
“Slade, stop. The persuasion is broken.”
“One, two, three.”
The room wasn’t large and he was halfway across it with those three steps. He wasn’t responding to my voice at all, and I could feel panic spreading through my chest. I knew he had been persuaded. It wasn’t his choice. He didn’t want to kiss her.
Or did he? That little niggling of doubt worked its way into my brain, weakening my resolve.
“Stop,” I ordered, making my voice harsher, even though I what little confidence I had was slipping.
Another count. Another step.
“Slade, please.”
I was begging, my voice cracking with emotion. If he didn’t want to kiss Savanna, he could fight it, I thought. I knew, on some level, that I was being irrational. He couldn’t fight it. That was the nature of persuasion. But knowing that didn’t make the errant thought go away. Why did I even try? If he wanted to kiss her, he should kiss her. Who was I to stop him?
Another step and he was only a few feet away.
“Lizzie, he’s going to kiss me.” Savanna’s words rang out, edged with panic. The tremor in her voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Has he kissed you, yet? Do you want to see his lips on mine? When you haven’t even felt them yourself?”
“One, two, three.”
Anger flooded through me, wiping out my earlier insecurity. My arms straightened at my sides as my breath huffed in and out. I couldn’t believe Savanna put me in this situation. She was forcing me to acknowledge my feelings, in front of everyone, without really knowing if Slade or his brother felt anything for me in return.
“Now, Lizzie!” she shouted. “Break the persuasion!”
I paused for a second as time stopped and everything moved in slow-motion. Slade reached Savanna. He leaned in, his eyes drifting closed. His lips puckered ever so slightly. I thought I was going to hyperventilate.
Savanna opened her mouth to speak. But I beat her to it.
“Slade, stop!”
I screamed it, every ounce of emotion I felt exploding from me like a volcano. Slade’s mouth paused only a few inches from Savanna’s. So close, she could probably taste his breath. Too close.
His eyes widened and he jerked back, striding across the room like he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. His red face looked splotchy as he stared at the floor, glancing up at me through his lashes every few seconds.
“You did it!” Savanna exclaimed, clapping her hands.
“So, she hasn’t been able to do it without some kind of intense emotion,” Silas says, pulling me from the memory.
My eyes dart to Slade and he smiles at me, a knowing look in his eye. He’s remembering the same thing I am, and what happened right after that incident. Slade kissed me like his life depended on it and Silas asked if he could kiss me, too. Then they asked me to be their girlfriend.
“So we need her to practice, to be able to do it at will,” Slade says.
“Ok,” Jared says, rubbing his hands together, “I’m down to help. Just don’t make me do anything stupid.”
He growls that last bit and the Madsens laugh. Jared shares in their humor as a grin pulls up at his lips. I’ll have to get them to share some of the stories when all this is over.
“You don’t trust us?” Slade asks, slapping a hand against his heart and feigning a hurt expression.
“Huh,” Jared huffs, noncommittal.
Slade laughs and Silas says, “Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll be good. We need to help Lizzie get this under control, and we need you. We’ll be good. Scout’s honor.”
“Like you were ever a scout,” Jared mumbles, plopping down on the couch. “Okay, where do we start?”
“Jared, do a striptease,” Slade says, struggling to keep a straight face.
Jared’s eyes widen and he sucks in a sharp breath. A couple of seconds pass by, and I can see the tension drain out of him before he backhands Slade across the chest. Slade hadn’t actually used persuasion, he just wanted to scare Jared. I can’t swallow the giggle that erupts from me.
“Not cool, man,” Jared grumbles, but he’s smiling.
“This is serious, Slade,” Silas says, reprimanding his brother.
“I know that,” Slade says defensively, “but Lizzie was nervous and I just wanted to break the tension.” He looks at me, his eyes soft. “Did it work?”
I nod, smiling. I do feel less nervous.
“Okay, Jared,” Slade says, staring into his eyes, “raise your arms in the air.”
Jared’s arms stretch upward, and he rolls his eyes. If I can’t figure out how to break the persuasion, his arms are going to get really tired, really fast. I feel pressured, even though some rational part of me knows Slade can tell him to put his arms down at any time.
I inhale deeply and release the breath, shaking my hands out at my sides. Concentrating, I visualize the power gathering in my gut. I hold it there, letting it build until I think I can actually feel it.
“Jared, put your arms down. The persuasion is broken,” I demand.
Nothing happens. Jared’s looking at me, his face helpless as his arms remain in the air. My shoulders droop as I deflate. I can’t do it.
“Lizzie, look at me,” Silas says. I raise my eyes to his, and he says, “Don’t give up. Try again. You’ve got this.”
“Yeah,” Slade says, drawing my attention to him, “we believe in you, Lizzie. You just have to believe in yourself.”
I glance at Jared and he just nods, giving me silent encouragement. Even though I know it’s not going to work, I try again. I go through the same thought process, concentrate, and speak the same words…and get the same result.
Jared’s arms remain in the air.
“Lizzie, stop concentrating so hard. You’re too tense,” Slade says.
“I can’t do it,” I groan.
“Yes, you can,” Silas says. “We’ve seen it, twice.”
“I know, but both times I was highly emotional. I can’t figure out how to do it when I’m not.”
“I have an idea,” Slade says.
He jumps to his feet and moves to stand behind me. His hands skim down my arms and back up again, a feather-light touch that
cause goosebumps to pop out all over my skin. He trails his fingertips down my back and around my sides before flattening his palms against my stomach. He pulls me against him, my back flush against his chest.
“You like it when I touch you,” he whispers.
My eyes fly to Jared as my face flames, but his brows are pulled low in confusion. He didn’t hear Slade’s words. I look at Silas and his eyes are like molten silver. He did hear.
“Tell Jared to put his arms down,” Slade whispers, his honeyed voice dripping with promise. “If he puts his arms down, we’ll make him leave so Silas and I can take you upstairs. To our bed. Where we’ll peel you out of these clothes and run our tongues all over your—”
“Jared, put your arms down, now,” I order, interrupting Slade’s seductive words.
Jared’s arms drop to his sides as his eyes widen in surprise. He claps his hands once with a cheesy grin and opens his mouth to speak.
“Jared, get out.”
My head whips over to Silas, who barked the order. He stands up, rubbing his palms down his denim-clad legs like they’re sweaty. I look back at Jared, who’s still sitting on the couch with a confused expression.
“But…I thought you wanted her to practice,” he says.
“We need to…talk to Lizzie,” Slade says, bucking his pelvis against my ass, his movement slight enough that Jared wouldn’t see it.
I suck in a breath at the contact, my nerves already standing on end at the promise in Slade’s words as he encouraged me to break Jared’s persuaded state. I watch as our guinea pig rises to his feet, shaking his head in confusion.
“Okay, well, call me if you need me again,” he says, turning toward the front door.
As he walks toward the portal, Slade’s hands slip away from my stomach—one heading north toward my breasts and the other headed south. I lean my head back against his shoulder as Silas moves to stand between me and the door. Should Jared look back on his way out, he won’t be able to see a thing.
As soon as the door clicks shut, Slade’s hand covers my breast, kneading it gently as his other hand dips to rub my crease through my jeans. Silas moves in close, and I can see him licking his lips to wet them just before my eyes drift closed. Slade’s fingers pluck at my nipple through my shirt and bra.
And that’s when everything goes to shit.
My body freezes, my breath hitching in my throat as fear consumes me. I whimper, twisting away from the hands touching me while batting at them with loosely closed fists. The hands release me instantly, and I wrap my arms around myself as tears pour down my face.
I look up to see Silas and Slade, side by side, staring at me with slack jaws and hurt expressions. I come to my senses, realizing what I’ve just done.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out. “I don’t know what happened.”
Tears continue to leak from my eyes as I stare at them, wanting them to hold me, yet wanting them to keep their distance. My emotions are all over the place. My heart feels like it might beat right out of my chest.
“Lizzie, I’m sorry,” Slade says, his voice low and soothing. “I wasn’t thinking.”
His face morphs from a hurt expression to a guilty one, which makes me feel even worse. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I panicked. Why I’m still panicking.
“Lizzie, I’m sure this is perfectly normal,” Silas says, holding up his palms as he takes a small step closer.
“Normal?” I repeat with a humorless laugh, now angry with myself. “What about this is normal?”
“After what that’s asshole did to you…” he says, his words trailing off.
Oh, God. He’s right. Everything was fine, more than fine, until Slade touched my breast…the same way Jimmy did. Well, it wasn’t exactly the same. Slade’s touch was loving and reverent, while Jimmy’s was rough and intended to cause pain. But it was the same motion in the same spot.
I triggered me.
“Do I have PTSD?” I ask, not really directing the question to anyone in particular.
“What has Dr. Levinson said about it?” Silas asks.
“She hasn’t really defined it,” I mumble, rubbing my hands up and down my arms.
I look at Slade, realizing he hasn’t said anything since his apology. His face is drawn with anguish. He’s beating himself up, and that just makes me feel worse.
“Slade—”
“No, it’s my fault. I should have known better. You told us what he did. I just wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay,” I say, and though I don’t blame him in any way, I know the words are a lie.
It’s not okay. I just hope that someday, it will be.
I tell them I want to go lie down for bit, and they both nod their heads in agreement. I move toward the stairs, but Silas and Slade both remain where they are. I start to head up on my own, then turn back. I need them.
“Can you guys come lay with me?” I ask. “I really don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course,” Silas says, walking toward me.
“Slade?” I ask when he doesn’t budge from his spot.
“Are you sure you want me there?”
I hold out my hand toward him, silently begging him to come take it. He shuffles toward me, his hand taking mine in a gentle grip. I lean into his chest, wrapping my free arm around him. I can feel the tension leave his body at the same time a relieved sigh passes his lips. His lips press against the top of my head before he turns us toward the stairs, and we follow Silas up to our room.
25
When I wake up, the boys are still in bed with me. I lift my head from the muscled chest it’s resting on to see Slade watching me. I give him a smile and lean up to press my lips to his.
I feel so much better.
I swallowed one of my anti-anxiety pills before we piled into the bed. That, coupled with a nap, worked wonders. I don’t feel a trace of the fear I felt earlier.
I look over my shoulder and meet Silas’s eyes, and his lips turn up at the corners. I roll toward him, giving him a quick kiss before pushing myself up into a sitting position. The boys sit up, too, crossing their legs so they’re facing me.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” I start, but Silas holds up a hand to cut me off.
“You have no reason to be sorry,” he says. “Your reaction was out of your control, and fueled by what that son of a bitch did to you.”
I look at Slade, mouthing another apology to him anyway. I don’t want him to blame himself for my messed up headspace. It wasn’t his fault.
“No,” he says, taking my hand and lacing his fingers through mine. “Silas is right. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“Neither do you,” I reply, tightening my grip on his hand.
I know they are right, that I shouldn’t feel guilty. Between the sexual assault, the punch to the face and the concussion, Jimmy O’Connor really did a number on me and my irrational surge of terror was a direct result of that.
But I still feel guilty. I can still see that look on Slade’s face when I pulled away from him.
“Lizzie,” Slade whispers, pulling me out of the memory, “we’ll get through this. It might take some time, but you’ll come out stronger on the other side. I know you will, because you always do. And Silas and I will be right here the whole time.”
“Are you sure I’m worth it? I mean, I don’t know how long it will take…”
“Of course, you’re worth it,” Silas says, taking my other hand.
“We’re in this together,” Slade adds.
My eyes burn but I don’t let the tears fall. I know how lucky I am.
“I love you,” I say, and they both repeat the sentiment back to me.
A shout from downstairs breaks up our little lovefest, and we climb from our bed and head down to see the others. The boys hold my hands the whole way, not letting go even when we reach the bottom and walk into the kitchen where Savanna, Jett, Wyatt, and Beckett are waiting.
“Dr. Sang is in,” Wya
tt says, pulling some lunchmeat and mayonnaise from the refrigerator.
“She’s going to make the vaccine?” I ask.
“Yep,” Savanna says, walking from the pantry with a loaf of bread.
“Can we trust her?” Silas asks.
Savanna laughs. “Jett persuaded her to tell us the truth after asking permission to do it.”
I look at Jett, eyebrows raised. He’s not exactly an “ask permission” kind of guy.
“I didn’t want to start our working relationship on the wrong foot,” he says, somewhat defensively. “So I asked her if I could use persuasion to make sure she was being up front and honest with us. She said yes with no hesitation.”
“She said she’s fairly sure she can create a vaccine from Savanna’s blood. She took a few vials and said it would take a few weeks, but she’ll keep us updated and let us know if she needs more blood,” Beckett explains.
“That’s great,” I say, nodding at Wyatt when he asks if I want a sandwich.
“How did it go with Jared?” Savanna asks.
I freeze, feeling the blood drain from my face as the memory if what happened after Jared left assaults me. Silas speaks up, pulling everyone’s attention to him.
“She did it!” he exclaims with a little too much enthusiasm. “It took some work, but she totally broke the persuasion.”
“Lizzie? You okay?” Savanna asks, her voice edged with concern.
“Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile. “I’m good.”
She gives me a look that tells me we’ll be talking about this later and I nod, knowing there will be no getting out of it. I actually do want to talk to her about it. I need an outside opinion from someone that knows us all. I want to know if she thinks my relationship with the boys will survive this.
After we eat lunch, I pull out my phone to text Jimmy to set up a meeting. Silas and Slade immediately protest, but I wave them off.
“I have to do this,” I say. “He’s expecting me to give him that blood by tomorrow. We don’t have time to waste.”
“You aren’t going anywhere near him,” Slade says, his voice tinged with a note of finality.
“He’ll be waiting for me,” I argue. “If I don’t show, he may take off and go right for Grace.”
