To Have and to Harm

by Debra Doxer

  “Tell me you understand,” he says.

  Tension is radiating off Lucas, and I can feel the desperation he’s bottling up inside. The truth is, he’s hurting even more than I am because he doesn’t put me through half the crap I dump all over him.

  Bringing my hand to his cheek, I say, “I understand.” And I do. As much as I want to stop my father, I won’t do anything to hurt Lucas that way again.

  WEAKNESS STILL weighs me down, but I feel stronger today than I did yesterday, and eventually, thanks to Meera, I’ll be back to myself again. I need a shower, and I could use a change of clothes since I’ve been wearing these for two days straight.

  Stretching my tight muscles, I move toward the door like a newborn chick taking its first steps. My body feels like I worked out for hours, even though I’ve mostly lain in bed. Hearing voices on the other side, I pull open the door to find that girl, Charlie, smiling at Lucas. Her hand is pressed against the front of his shirt as she swings her dark hair over her shoulder. His eyes narrow at her and then shift to Grant, who’s standing by the door, making me think she’s just arrived. My body tenses as I glance around, looking for others, looking for my father.

  When Lucas spots me, he walks over. But my eyes are still on her. “What’s she doing here?”

  She tilts her head at me and crosses her arms. “You look like crap.”

  “Charlene’s okay,” Grant says. “She brought us some news and some things.” He gestures to a couple of shopping bags sitting on the floor.

  My eyes widen at Grant like he’s crazy. “She’s going to tell him where we are.”

  “I wouldn’t tell him where the water was if he was on fire.” She laughs.

  “He doesn’t have much loyalty among his followers,” Grant says. “Recruiting help for our cause isn’t exactly hard.”

  “What he did to you was way out-of-bounds,” she says, losing the smirk. “It’s not right and I didn’t get into this to hurt people. Well,” she amends, looking at Lucas, “unless they want me to.”

  Lucas narrows his eyes at her. “She can’t be trusted, Grant. She shouldn’t be here.”

  Charlie smiles at him. “You’re just sore because you liked it when I healed you, and that makes you feel guilty.”

  Grant clears his throat, trying to break the tension and the death glare on Lucas’s face. “She brought us some clothes. And she says John and Nyla and everyone else are fine. Scrambling to cover what happened, but they’re healthy as horses again.”

  I recall Meera’s words about them having to fight to get me out. “What did you do to them?”

  Charlie shoots me a surprised look. “You’ve been keeping poor Raielle in the dark? Grant shot them all,” she says casually.

  Shocked, I look at him before turning back to Lucas. “Is that true?”

  He nods. “He knew they could heal themselves. They weren’t going to let us near you. He didn’t have a choice.”

  “My God,” I utter, not fully realizing how far they’d gone to help me.

  “How are you, Charlene?” Meera asks, slowly making her way down the hall from her bedroom in the back, leaning heavily on a cane.

  Charlie’s expression brightens before she notices the cane. “I’m good. How are you, ma’am?”

  “I’m fine. Just old.” She chuckles.

  “Meera and Adrienne are leaving,” Grant announces. “They’re letting us stay here, but I’m sending them to a safer place.”

  Guilt fills me at seeing how weak Meera seems this morning. “Is this because of me?” I ask.

  “Yes,” Adrienne answers for her, and Meera scowls.

  I move beside her, looking for other signs of weakness. “I’m so sorry.”

  Meera shakes her head dismissively. “Don’t be. This is how it works. I’ll be just fine again in a few days and so will you.”

  “Charlie is going to take you to the airport,” Grant explains. “Have you got everything you need?”

  Meera nods. Then she turns to me and takes both my hands in hers. “You’re a strong, brave young lady, and I know you’ll be fine. Once you embrace your power and understand your purpose, the sky’s the limit for you.”

  Beside me, Lucas’s brow quirks up. I can feel heat coming from Meera’s hands. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  She eyes me knowingly. “Yes, you do. Your mother suppressed her power. Your father abused his. What will you do with yours? Will you bury it? Will you misuse it? Or will you listen to your heart and embrace your destiny?”

  Beside me I can feel Lucas shifting closer to us. “Destiny?” I laugh quietly.

  Meera gives me a wistful smile. Then she turns to Grant. “Despite what they say, you know it’s not you,” she tells him. “It’s her.”

  His gaze travels over me. “I know,” he says and his clipped response is unsettling.

  Lucas stiffens at their exchange.

  “You’ll do fine,” she tells me. Then she lets her daughter walk her out of the house.

  “That was intense,” Charlie mumbles. She air-kisses Grant and follows the two women out the door.

  Once they’re gone, I’m not surprised when Lucas asks, “What was that about?”

  Grant sighs as he scrubs his hands over his face. “Come sit down. How are you, Raielle? Are you feeling stronger today?”

  I lower myself onto the couch across from him, but Lucas doesn’t sit. He stays where he is with his eyes on Grant.

  “I’m good,” I say, but really I’m waiting for what he’s going to say next.

  He lets out a heavy breath. “For a while, people have assumed that I’d take John’s place if anything happened to him.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.” Lucas smirks.

  “But I’d just be a substitute for you.” Grant’s focus stays on me. “It’s your destiny, not mine.”

  Lucas scoffs at that.

  Grant shrugs. “Deny it all you want, but Raielle’s future is in her own hands. Not yours. It’s up to her.”

  Lucas comes over and stands behind me. “She’s eighteen years old. She’s a freshman in college who deserves to have a life. You people aren’t her responsibility, and I don’t want you planting this shit in her head because knowing her, if she thinks you need her, she’s going to want to help every last one of you.”

  “Lucas, please,” I say, needing a minute to digest this. “Don’t assume things about me.”

  He moves around the couch to look at me.

  Grant stands and narrows his gaze on Lucas. “Meera said that you understood now, that she explained it to you. This is where Raielle belongs.”

  “No. That’s not what she said at all,” Lucas argues.

  “You think I’m planting shit in her head? It looks to me like you’re doing the same thing.” Grant’s lips form a thin, frustrated line.

  Leaning forward, I hold my hands out. “This is a ridiculous argument. No one can plant anything in my head because I can think for myself, thank you very much.”

  Grant looks down at me. “I hope so,” he mutters before walking from the room.

  Once he’s gone, Lucas seems to lose steam. “Sorry,” he says. “You’re right. I shouldn’t make assumptions.” He sits down beside me. “So tell me. What are you thinking?”

  The truth is, I’m not thinking past my father yet. His threat looms too large to think about what happens after. I just want the after part. But I can’t say that because Lucas will make more assumptions. He’ll think that I’m not doing what he asked me to, that I’m not putting my idea for stopping my father out of my mind, and he wouldn’t be wrong.

  I eye the bags Charlie brought, still sitting on the floor. “I think I want to shower and change,” I answer.

  When he looks disappointed, thinking I’m avoiding the subject, I add, “One step at a time, okay?”

  After a moment, he nods. “Okay.”

  LUCAS IS taking his shower when I find Grant sitting on the patio, lost in thought. I’ve already showered and pulled on the
jeans and T-shirt Charlie brought from LA for me. My phone charger was in that bag, too, along with Lucas’s.

  “You can’t be angry with him,” I say. “He’s afraid for me. He’s almost lost me twice now. I can’t put him through that again.”

  When I sit down across from him, Grant leans forward and levels a serious look at me. “You think I want your father to hurt you any more than he does?”

  The calm expression he wore so often in Los Angeles has been absent since we got here. I try not to squirm under his critical gaze.

  Grant rests his arms on the table, bringing him closer to me. “I want John stopped. It’s long past time for that, and I don’t expect you to be involved in that part. But once he’s gone, people are going to start looking to you. You heard them at the house during the lockdown. Your presence here has given them hope. Hope that things can be different, be better for all of us. Will you really turn your back on that?”

  I might have heard them, but I didn’t believe what I heard or put stock in it. “Why me?” I ask.

  He grins. “Why not you?

  I look down at my hands on the table.

  “Don’t play dumb with me,” he says harshly.

  My eyes flick up to him.

  He leans in even closer. “There’s no place for modesty here. You’re strong. Even stronger than your father. You know that. Enough of us have told you that. Healers are an unruly bunch. We’re full of ourselves. We can do things that most people can’t. Superhuman things. Most of us are not going to follow a person like Shane or even me. We need someone we’re in awe of. Someone who can do things none of us can do. Someone we’re a little afraid of. Only a healer like that will ever be able to keep us in line. And believe me, we need to be kept in line.”

  My hands have moved down to my lap and are now clenched together under the table. “That’s not me. No one’s afraid of me.”

  Grant’s head starts to shake, and he laughs. “You really have no idea. Your own father’s afraid of you, Raielle, and everyone knows it.”

  It’s hard to believe my father is afraid of me. But I can see that Grant believes it. He really believes everything he’s telling me, but I don’t know what to believe. It’s seems ridiculous and overwhelming, and far too much to absorb.

  “We’ve just got to get your father out of your way,” he adds, rubbing his unshaven cheek thoughtfully.

  Of everything he’s said so far, that’s the one thing we can agree on. “How do we do that?” I ask.

  He leans back. “Fuck if I know.”

  I chew on my lip, not saying what’s on my mind, that I could probably stop my father if I were given the chance. But then I do say it, because I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve tried, just like I promised Lucas, but if it’s our best shot, how can I just forget it? “Meera believes I could drain his energy, leaving him powerless, the same way he left me.”

  Grant looks at me without commenting, but I can see his focus sharpening.

  Clearing my throat, I glance away first. “Lucas thinks it’s too dangerous.”

  “It would be dangerous.”

  I look back again when he doesn’t outright dismiss the idea. But before I can say anything further, he changes the subject.

  “John knows we’re here,” Grant says, surprising me. “That’s why I sent Meera away. But he’s not ready to come after you yet. In the meantime, we’ll stay and you’ll work on getting your strength back. Then you’ll move on. We’re going to pass you between us to keep you hidden. A friend of mine has agreed to take you in next. We’ll keep you moving until we have a better option.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not doing that, hiding indefinitely, getting passed around from stranger to stranger. No way.”

  He says nothing.

  “You know, you’re wrong about me. I’m the least likely person to inspire awe or fear in anyone.”

  “No, you’re the one who’s wrong.” Lucas’s voice sounds from behind me.

  I turn around to see him standing there. His hair is wet from his shower and all he has on are his jeans, sitting low on his hips. His shirt is bunched in his hands.

  He steps out in his bare feet. “You’re the strongest person I know. What I said before, it wasn’t because you’re not capable of it. It kills me to say this, but there’s no question that you could handle it. Look at all you’ve handled your whole life. But I don’t want you to be railroaded into this, or to do it out of guilt. You deserve to live the life you want, not one that’s determined by them.”

  Grant’s eyes snap with annoyance. “He’s right about one thing. If you don’t want to do this, you shouldn’t. But don’t let him or a misguided lack of confidence prevent you from doing what you know is right.” Then he pushes his chair back. It squeals as the legs scratch against the concrete. He stands and looks down at me. “This is too important to let knee-jerk reactions make your mind up.” We watch as he goes back inside.

  “Dumbass,” Lucas mumbles. “That guy likes to make an exit. Or maybe I just like driving him away. Am I right? He seems to leave the room when I enter it.”

  But I don’t respond because Grant’s words from before about my father being afraid of me, and Lucas’s just now about how much I can handle, are hitting me like a bucket of cold water. “This is crazy,” I say.

  He gives me a lopsided grin. “This is Wednesday.”

  It takes a second for his words to register, but when they do, I huff out a laugh.

  “Actually,” he says, “I think we passed crazy and went straight to cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.”

  I chuckle again and after everything that’s happened, I can’t believe Lucas is making me laugh. I wanted to take back the word crazy after I said it. I’ve been careful not to use words like that around him because of his mother, but obviously he’s not overly sensitive about it. He drops his shirt on the table and takes my hands, pulling me up against his warm skin.

  “Did you hear what Grant said?” I ask. “That my father knows where I am? That they want to start passing me among them to hide me?”

  “Yeah, I heard,” he replies, and I can feel his deep voice vibrate inside his chest.

  “We can’t let them do that.”

  Lucas blows out a breath. “I don’t like that plan much either. We could just leave. Get lost somewhere.”

  I look up into two dark blue pools and see my own reflection. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life running and being afraid of him.”

  His brow furrows as his arms tighten around me. “It won’t come to that.”

  “Won’t it? Hasn’t it started already?” I look down and try to bite back the words before they spill out, but I can’t. “What if I can stop him?” I ask. Then I dare to meet his eyes again. Predictably, they’ve turned hard.

  “Ray,” he says in a warning tone.

  “But I might be the only one who can. I don’t want to run or have to hide for who knows how long.” After everything that’s happened, I still don’t think Lucas grasps the seriousness of our situation. I’m imagining a future where he has to give up even more for me, his family and his career aspirations. There’s no way I can let that happen. I’m done with him sacrificing everything he’s worked for because of me. “I want you to go to Columbia like you planned,” I say.

  He blinks at me, confused for a moment, then annoyed as he begins to refuse.

  “And I want you to bring Liam with you, like you were going to before you met me.”

  “Ray, no.”

  Everything Meera said about my destiny feels unreal. Just thinking about it makes me uneasy. I add one more part to the plan. “And I want to come, too.”

  Lucas stills, and his eyes search mine. “Say that again?”

  “I want to come to New York with you both. That’s where you should be, and I want to be there with you.” As soon as the words leave my lips, I know how right they are. I’m not chickening out or fooling myself, although I doubt Grant would believe that. I’m not interested in what he or Me
era say is my destiny. Not by a long shot.

  “What about UCLA?” Lucas asks.

  I smile because that question tells me he’s letting himself consider it. “UCLA itself was never important. It was a symbol, a goal to keep me motivated to get into college. But I can go to school anywhere. I can apply somewhere in New York.”

  He’s still watching me, looking a little shell-shocked. “Are you sure?”

  I grin at his stunned face. “Yes.”

  “When did you decide this?”

  I hated the fact that he gave up Columbia for me the moment I found out he’d done it. I shrug at him, not really knowing the answer myself. Although I think the idea has been rattling around in my head for a while.

  His hesitation is obvious. He wants what I’m suggesting, but I sense that he’s mentally dismissing it. He’s putting the pieces together and acknowledging the roadblocks. “This all depends on stopping your father,” he finally says.

  “Yes. He’ll never let me go if he can prevent it.”

  Lucas lowers himself into a chair, and I sit down across from him. “Will Liam want to go?” I ask.

  He shrugs his bare shoulders. “He’ll want to go, but he’ll beat himself up about leaving my mom.”

  “Just like you,” I point out.

  His eyes flick to mine before glancing away. “Yeah. He’s too much like me.”

  “How is your mom?” I don’t bring her up much because he’s still so reluctant to talk to me about his family, and I’m trying not to feel hurt since I’m no better than him at opening up. But I’m trying. We both are.

  “No change,” he answers. “And my dad—” He breaks off abruptly.

  I push off my chair and kneel in front of him, trying to see his expression. When he looks up at me, he says, “My dad keeps telling me, not so nicely, to come home.”

  Lucas may not like it, but of course that’s what his father wants. I’m sure he doesn’t like the fact that Lucas chucked Columbia and everything else to come after me.

  “We’ll go home,” I say, even though it’s not really my home. “We’ll go back to Fort Upton once this is finished, and we won’t come back. We can make the rest of our plans from there.”