I guess Jensen sees how scared I am right now because he grabs my hand. I push him away, “I’m fine. Just go.”
“Take the van and get out of here. I mean it, Saige!” he demands, thrusting the keys in my hand before he and Andy head inside the building.
I sit in the passenger’s seat, my arms wrapped around my legs in a death grip as my mind flips over all the possibilities of what could happen like a broken record I want to smash to smithereens. I’d kill for an iced coffee right now; it’d be a helluva lot easier concentrating on separating emotions with the happy juice doing its magic. A few minutes later, my energy plummets as darkness seeps into my body, twisting my insides, pulling me into the abyss. He’s here.
My legs feel like rubber as I slip out of the van and sink against the concrete wall. The depth of this bastard’s sick emotions is draining me. Never before have I been as affected by someone else’s feelings like I am with his. My hand shakes as I try to pull myself upright. Feeling lightheaded and weak, it takes all my strength to pull the door to the building open. I tumble inside the door before dropping to my knees. The closer he gets, the weaker I become. Shaking my head, I focus on pushing his emotions down, trying to feel mine. It’s useless; his are completely overwhelming. Pulling myself across the cold tile floor, I curse my weakness, hating this college, hating people, hating this fucking life. Sweat breaks out at the nape of my neck, and I squeeze my fingers against my head, knowing these are his feelings, not mine.
Sirens blare in the background. Nausea rips through my stomach as I fight my fear and his hatred. A sharp pain stabs my chest and I wrap my arms around myself, fighting like hell to rid myself from his presence. I’ve never experienced physical pain from someone’s emotions before. Emotional pain is a different story. I’ve felt that my entire life. The darkness slowly fades; he’s leaving. I want to cry out, beg someone to stop him, but I’m alone. As soon as I have enough of my strength back, I quickly make my way towards the part of the building I saw Jensen and Andy studying on the blueprints.
Jensen is on his knees, carefully separating wires inside a large brown duffle bag. Holy shit! The realization that I’m in the same room with a bomb, that Jensen’s in the same room with a bomb, is as discomforting as it is surreal. I can’t fathom at how this whole situation is beyond screwed up as I watch in disbelief as he works on disarming the bomb. The numbers quickly descend, ticking away from our time left on this earth, and my fear, mixed with Andy’s, is paralyzing. I want to drag Jensen and Andy out of this building, to safety, but we’d never make it.
Andy glances up and opens his mouth to say something when he sees me, but I quickly press my finger against my lips, shaking my head. I don’t want to break Jensen’s concentration. A thin sheen of sweat makes my shirt cling to my skin. Terrified doesn’t even come close to what I’m feeling right now. I hope like hell he knows what he’s doing. The sound of the wire being snipped is almost drowned out by the pumping of my heart. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pray he cut the right wire.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jensen growls, causing me to snap my eyes open, but I wish I hadn’t when I see his anger.
Any scolding Jensen was getting ready to thrust my way is cut off when Andy places his hand on the brown bag and jumps to his feet. “SHIT! He’s setting another bomb.”
“Where?” Jensen asks, grabbing his backpack.
“The football stadium,” Andy answers, his voice heavy.
My face blanches, “That’s the college’s designated evacuation site.”
Andy is already on the phone, blurting the information at who I’m assuming is a cop.
Andy’s words ring in my ears. Oh, God, no…please, please no! I race towards the door as Jensen yells after me. I can’t make out what he’s saying, my pulse is pounding too loudly in my ears. Bursting through the doors, I sprint across the quad, nearly slipping on the dew covered grass. My lungs burn and legs ache as I push myself faster through the quad. There are cops everywhere. Some yell at me as I weave in between them and up the hill. I see students laughing and chatting below, like their world isn’t getting ready to be blown all to hell.
Wes is standing on the steps in front of the football locker rooms, cutting up with Jake and some other jocks whose names I can’t remember. I scream Wes’ name and he turns towards me. His smile fades as he witnesses the panic on my face as I race towards him.
Jensen grabs my arm, pulling me backwards, just as a rush of sweltering air crashes into me. My ears pop painfully with the deafening blast. Pain explodes up my spine as I slide against the grass, slamming into the concrete bleachers. Everything spins and goes black for a few seconds. I hear Jensen’s voice again and I blink rapidly, trying to clear the fog from my head. The smell is choking, causing me to gag while trying to catch my breath at the same time. Jensen’s hand cradles my face. My ears ring and my eyes water from the acidic air as I look up at him.
“Are you alright, Saige?” The panic in Jensen’s voice buzzes in my ears.
Numbly, I nod. My mouth drops open when I see the blood slowly running down his cheek. Unable to speak, I point a shaky finger at his face.
He raises his shoulder, wiping it against his head. “It’s nothing. Are you sure you’re alright?”
Trying to swallow the thickness of the air, I shake my head, needing to make sure Wes, Jake, and all the other students are okay. “The students -” I choke, having to pause to cough. My chest burns like hell as I fruitlessly try to ask if they are okay.
Jensen pulls me to my wobbly feet but I sink towards the ground again when I see the devastation in front of me. A comforting arm is wrapped around my waist, keeping me from hitting the ground. “I’m sorry, Saige.” Jensen’s voice is thick with regret.
Over half of the stadium is now rubble strewn across the football field. Nausea rips through my stomach and up my throat when I see charred bodies protruding from underneath the destroyed building. A turquoise tank top is drenched in blood, and my entire body trembles as I drop to my knees, letting out a horrified scream as I place my hand over Riah’s lifeless eyes. I can’t think. I can’t speak. I can’t fucking breathe. My body jerks involuntarily as I heave, but nothing comes out.
Jensen goes to lift me in his arms, but I pull away from him, stumbling as I make my way over the rubble. The damn ringing in my ears is maddening, but at least it’s muffling the pained cries. Police, fireman, and rescue workers begin to crowd the sides of the destruction and I lose my balance when the hysteria from the survivors hits me from every direction. Strong hands save me from hitting the sharp edges of broken concrete and stone. Jensen pulls me protectively against his side, “Let’s get you out of here.”
Sirens continue to blare in the background, mixing with the screams and wails of students as their panic, rage, and sorrow overwhelms me. My head pounds from the crippling emotions. There are too many of them, too many people full of dark ugliness. I hurt in every part of my body. Pressing my hands tightly against my head, I squeeze as hard as I can, needing to push their anger and fear out of me. I can’t handle the excruciating pain from the power of their hysteria and rage pulsing through me. I gasp for air as the world spins violently. My body sways, feeling like my bones have melted, leaving nothing left to hold me up. The last thing I physically feel before the emotions overtake me is Jensen lifting me into his arms, cradling my body against his chest. Then the darkness invades my senses, and I succumb to its welcoming nothingness.
Chapter Four
Jensen
I want to shake Saige, scream until my words knock some sense into her, when I see her standing in the same room as the bomb and not getting to safety; then I see her eyes. They are so broken when she hears about the second explosive. Her horrified expression guts me. I’ve failed her…again. I want to pull her into my arms and protect her from every fucking bad thing this life has thrown at her. Before I can say anything else, she runs, and my heart stops beating. I don’t think of anything else but her. Saving
her. Healing her. Making her forget all the shit she’s been through.
Cops are everywhere as I burst through the door behind Saige, seeing her head bobbing a few yards ahead of me. Damn, she’s fast. She always has been, and I’m already breathing heavily from the exertion of trying to catch her. I’m almost within reach to grab her arm when two cops jump in front of me, yelling for me to stop. Hunching my shoulder forward, I brace for the impact as I ram myself in between them. They grunt in pain, but I don’t take the time to look back. I have to get to Saige.
Her long, dark hair whips wildly behind her slender frame as she crests the hill above the stadium. My heart beats furiously in my chest as I yell her name. When she crosses onto the football field, I reach for her just as she screams another man’s name. I don’t have time to concentrate on the pain of hearing her calling for some other guy or enjoy the thoughts of breaking every damn bone in his body before the force of the blast knocks us off our feet just as I’ve almost got her pulled against me. The gust knocks us airborne, and I’m trying to keep my grasp on Saige’s arm when my head smacks against a concrete bleacher. Flashes of light dance in the air and I squint my eyes, trying to push past the stabbing pain in my head and neck so I can find her. Saige is crumpled on the ground and I’ve never been so fucking scared seeing her looking so small and not moving. All air is stripped from my lungs when she doesn’t respond as I call her name. Tears blur my vision when I touch her face, praying for her to open her eyes. Her lashes flutter, and I nearly fall to my knees with relief. “Are you alright, Saige?”
Saige’s hand is shaking when she points her finger at the blood running down my cheek. I don’t give a shit about my head; I just need to know she’s okay. I try to keep her still as she fights to stand. It’s so damn hard to breathe, but I don’t know how much of that is from the smoke and debris or how much of it is from the sickening realization that calling in the threat probably caused double the amount of people to die than the original bomb would have. Regret and guilt bombard my soul but I can’t think of that now; I have to take care of Saige.
She whimpers and falls to her knees, brushing the hair off a girl’s face. A dead girl. Saige’s friend is dead and it’s my fucking fault! A heart shattering scream leaves Saige’s lips and I can’t hold the tears back any longer as I witness her crushing grief. I reach for her, but she fights me, pulling away. She looks so damn lost standing in the rubble of the demolished stadium. I can tell the second the crowd’s emotions break through her shock because she looks as if someone punched her hard in the stomach and she starts to fall. Lunging forward, I catch her just before she hits the jagged debris and lift her limp body. I carefully shelter her against my chest while I rush as fast as I can through the devastation to get her away from the crowd.
Andy steps beside me. He doesn’t say a word when he sees me. He doesn’t have to. Andy’s never seen me show much of any kind of emotion. For all intents and purposes, my life ended the day I left Saige. I simply went through the motions for four long, torturing years. Now, I’ve been with her for less than twenty-four hours and she's already breathing life back into me. She’s the one who feels everyone’s emotions, but the feelings she stirs inside my heart scares the living shit out of me. I’d die and kill for this girl, and, right now, I’d give my life to take away her pain.
“Is she -” Andy starts to ask but I cut him off, not able to hear him say that word about Saige.
“No!” I bark. “She’s experiencing the same damn emotions from every single person here. I have to get her away from them.”
Andy glances over his shoulder and swears under his breath as the depth of the emotional hell ripping through Saige hits him. The entire campus is swimming with cops and rescue workers, but they’re too preoccupied with the students hanging on to life, and trying to control the chaos, than to pay attention to us right now. Saige’s soft body is listless in my arms. I cup the back of her head in my hand, cradling her closer to my chest. I wish like hell she would open her eyes. She’s terrifying me right now. I’ve seen her emotionally withdrawn too many times in the past, but I’ve never seen her physically affected before. Her strength is astounding. She has always thought she was weak, but she’s the strongest person I know. I can’t begin to comprehend the shit she’s dealt with and kept her sanity. I honestly don’t know if I could have. I seriously doubt it.
The crowd thins as we cross the campus parking lot. “Bring the van,” I call to Andy, failing miserably at keeping the panic from my voice, as I carry Saige into the alley. “Hang in there, baby,” I whisper, brushing my lips against her forehead. It has to be in the high seventies but her skin is so cold to the touch. I hold her closer to me as I kneel, rocking her in my arms as I continue to talk to her. She doesn’t respond, and I’m about to lose my fucking mind.
It seems like forever before Andy pulls into the alley and slides open the door. Quickly grabbing a towel, I place it on the metal floor before gently laying Saige down. “C’mon, baby. Open your eyes,” I plead.
“Do I drive to the hospital or the hotel?” Andy asks, driving over a couple of curbs to pull onto a street that isn’t blocked off, and I place my hands against Saige’s head, trying to keep it from rocking too hard.
“Hospital,” I manage to push the words through my throat despite it being raw with more unshed tears as Saige continues to lay motionless in front of me. Gently taking her hair down, I examine her head. There are no cuts, but I feel a pretty good sized knot.
I wrap her small hand in my large one, squeezing gently. A faint squeeze pushes against my fingers, and I roughly swipe my hand across my eyes, praying for her to open hers. Her thick lashes flutter a few times before I see her caramel gaze trying to focus on me. Her eyes are weak, disoriented. “Hey,” I whisper, “there’s my pretty girl.”
The corner of her lips tilt into a soft smile when I call her that. I’ve called her that countless times; I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed how the words feel rolling off my tongue. She blinks a couple of times, glancing around the van, before she’s fully back. My heart shatters when she presses the heels of her hands tight against her eyes. I hear her sharp, shallow breaths as she bites her trembling bottom lip, trying like hell not to cry. I grab her arms, hauling her onto my lap. Wrapping my arms around her, she sinks against me, feeling so small and fragile in my embrace.
“How many?” she asks, her soft voice muffled against my shirt.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, knowing she’s referring to how many students were killed. I don’t know. It’s a lot, but I can’t tell her that right now.
Her eyes are filled with unshed tears when she looks up. The sadness staring back kills me. I place my hand against her cheek. My thumb slides gently against her bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” I choke. The words are meaningless. I told her that I would stop him. I didn’t. I have no idea how many of the dead she knew, but I can see how it hurts her, and my gut twists from her pain.
“You didn’t do this,” she breathes. Anger shadows her eyes until they are as dark as slate. “He did this,” she seethes. Saige slips off my lap and I miss her warmth the second she’s no longer touching me. A low hiss leaves her lips as she stands.
“Let me look,” I coax, knowing she has to be banged up pretty good from the blast.
She shakes her head, stepping back as she paces the small confines of the van. She no longer looks fragile or lost; she looks seriously pissed. “I’m fine,” she snaps as I reach for her again.
“We’re almost to the hospital,” Andy calls over his shoulder.
Saige shakes her head vehemently, “I’m not going to the hospital. I want to find the sick bastard and then kill him!”
I’ve never heard her like this, but I don’t blame her. I want to kill the bastard, too. But not before beating the living shit out of him for hurting Saige. “You need to be seen so we can make sure you don’t have a concussion.”
“I’m fine,” she breathes. She’s not. We both know that.
Grabbing her arm, I gently tug her towards me. Her shorts and shirt are covered in dirt, grass, blood, and soot. I go to pull up her shirt so I can see if the blood is hers but she grabs my wrist.
“I said I’m fine.” She drops my wrist, stepping backwards. “We need to go back and find him,” she calls to Andy. “How did you know where he was when you touched his bag?”
“Because I’m the shit,” Andy grins and winks in the rearview mirror.
He’s trying to ease her, and I nod when he looks at me. No words are needed for him to know I appreciate him for that. He’s closer to me than my own brother. Andy’s the only reason I didn’t drink myself to death or get my ass killed when I was homeless, broke, and beyond fucked-up when I left home right after I left Saige.
“Other than being the shit, how did you do that?” she asks again, relaxing a fraction as she goes to take a seat next to him. Her body tenses when she slides into the passenger’s seat. She’s hurt, and I know that there’s no way in hell she’ll tell me how badly.
Andy glances back at me before answering and I nod my head. “You know how you can sense things? I can too, but differently. I can see where a person’s at by touching something they’ve touched, but only if it’s been within the hour.”
Saige looks at me and Andy. Her bottom lip slips between her teeth and her arms circle around herself, “How?”
“I think the technical term would be clairvoyance or remote viewing. Whatever the hell it is, a person’s residual energy gives me a view of where they are.”
“So if you touch what he’s touched, you can see him?” Her words are a question but they come out more like a fact she is rolling around in that pretty head of hers. “Then we need to go back to the stadium.”
“You can’t go back there, Saige.” I’ll never allow her to experience the pain she just did ever again. “There are too many people. Besides, we have to come up with a plan to explain why you told your friend to leave campus.”
Feel Page 6
