“You’ve seen it?” Libby curled up in the large armchair, letting the fire’s warmth ease through her. She was in no hurry to discuss her mother’s return. “When the link goes wrong?”
He didn’t reply for a long time. She didn’t think he was going to let her avoid talking about her mother for long, but it was worth a try. She watched him as he stared down into the fire, his solemn expression flickering in the light from the flames, and wondered how she could offer him the comfort he gave her. When he spoke, she almost started in surprise.
“It can be devastating.” His voice was barely audible. “A link can destroy a person, destroy everything they believe. In some cases, it has led to a psychotic break. A regular guy, driven mad, so furious and angry that he becomes a monster.”
Libby shivered, her stomach twisting unpleasantly. He knew of this person. This monster.
“Jack.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“I’ve seen what that kind of person can do.” He shook his head, turned away from the fire.
Libby winced. “Now you tell me.”
Jackson laughed then, and she sensed his peculiar mood was over for now. “You don’t need to worry. Just do as you’re told.”
“You wish!”
They shared a smile.
“So, your mum is home.”
Libby sighed, having known that he wouldn’t let her wallow for long. “I think I’m angry.”
“I know you’re angry.” He sat on the edge of the coffee table to face her. “That’s okay.”
“Is it?” She pulled a face. “I wanted her home so badly. But now I’m just furious because she should never have left in the first place. I think about everything I’ve gone through, and all I can think is that she should have been here. She should have been here and she wasn’t.”
“I’m sure she had her reasons.”
“I’m sure she did, but I don’t care.” Libby gritted her teeth. “And dad. Jesus, Jack. He was just so damn thrilled to see her. No anger, no resentment, just complete joy at her return. I could hardly bear it.”
Jackson watched her for a moment and she felt his concern, his wariness.
She pulled a face. “Alright. Just spit it out.”
“Okay.” He paused as if working out what to say. “Imagine I had to leave.”
She didn’t like that. Even as she shook her head, her stomach clenched unpleasantly at the thought. “Jack-”
“Just hear me out.” He reached forward to take her hand. “Imagine I had to leave. I’m gone, with no contact, for several weeks. Then I turn up on your doorstep. What do you do?”
“Kick your ass,” she replied instantly. The corners of his mouth kicked up in a quick grin and he squeezed her fingers.
“Naturally.”
She sighed. “But not before I threw myself at you and cried over you. God, that’s lowering.”
“That’s just the way it is.”
“So you think dad is ass-kicking by now?”
“I doubt it,” Jackson grinned suddenly. “It’s probably best you left the house though.”
“Ew.” She pulled her hand from his as she grasped his meaning. “Please. We're talking about my parents here.”
Getting to her feet, she paced across the room as she considered what he'd told her.
“You think they’re connected? Even though dad isn’t a talent?”
When Jackson didn’t reply, she turned to face him in exasperation.
“What now?”
He took a breath. “Okay, I didn’t say anything because it seemed to me that maybe your family isn’t the same about sharing-”
She glowered at him. “Jack, what?”
“I think your dad is a talent.”
She could only gape in shock.
“I wasn’t sure at first. And now I don’t think he knows. He’s quite low level.” A wince told her that he regretted that choice of words. “I don’t mean that in a bad way.”
“So what, he can read minds?”
Jackson scoffed. “Please. If he could read minds he’d never let me within ten yards of you. No, I think he’s a reverse empath.”
“A reverse empath?”
“He can put people at ease, make people confident…make people a little scared.” He smiled at that, as if remembering something. Clearly he'd had experience of that one. “He’s a successful businessman for a reason. He can read people and he can, to some degree, influence their moods.”
“Like this talent who got me drunk?”
“No, not like that,” Jackson spoke tersely. “Because your dad is not a sociopath. Also because he can’t alter the mind as powerfully as that talent does, he just influences moods.”
Stunned, Libby dropped back onto the chair. This was unbelievable.
“And he doesn’t know?”
“I wasn't sure at first, but Libby, Eric adores you. If he knew any of this, there is no way he’d have let you deal with it alone.”
She had to agree with that.
“I don’t want to go home.”
Jackson smiled. “I told your dad that you'd be staying with Kelly for the night.”
“He was happy with that?”
“Yes.” Jackson raised an eyebrow in mock offence. “You don’t think I can be trusted?”
“I think I trust you more than anyone.” Libby took his hand, wondering if she could communicate everything she was feeling through that small contact. “Thank you.”
The light from the fridge spilled into the kitchen. Libby scanned the contents, pulling out a jar of peanut butter. A quick sandwich would soothe the gnawing hunger until breakfast. Since her appetite had disappeared on her mother’s return, she hadn’t finished her dinner and now, after everything, she was starving.
“Get the marmite while you’re in there.”
Kelly’s voice made her jump and she smothered a scream as she span around towards the window. She could just make out the silhouette of the redhead in the window seat.
“Jeez, Kelly.” She turned back to get the marmite and put both jars on the workbench beside the bread bin. Flicking on the strip lights beneath the wall cabinets, she turned back to Kelly. There was enough light now to see her clearly. She looked tired.
“How are you? Jack said you guys were still arguing.”
Kelly shrugged. “We’re fine.”
Pressing her lips together, Libby turned back to her task of sandwich making. She wasn’t sure what to say. After all, it wasn’t as though the relationship would be over after an argument, however bad it may have been. The usual method of dissing the ex didn’t fit.
“I hit on a sore spot with him, all tied up with his hideous mother.” Kelly spoke after a few moments. “He’ll recover.”
“Soon?”
Kelly laughed wryly. “Yeah, soon. You know what it’s like. History isn’t always history.”
Libby thought that over. She was curious but it felt like prying to ask. What could have happened that his mother could be labeled as hideous by someone so unfailingly generous? She couldn’t imagine it.
“So, your mum is back.”
Libby pulled a face as she plated the sandwiches. “Yeah. I didn’t handle that well.”
“You’re entitled to be angry.”
“I suppose, but it feels a bit childish.” She felt better for confessing that, freer. “I guess I wanted to punish her. It was a bad time for her to disappear on me.”
“I wonder why she came back now.” Kelly took the plate Libby offered, her expression thoughtful. “Perhaps she got the email. Forget about the mystery guy at the Arms; if I’d found out that my only daughter was shacking up with Jackson, I’d rush home too.”
Libby grinned even as the blush stained her cheeks. “Maybe that was it. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow. I guess dad will too.”
“You think there’s anything in Jack’s theory about your dad?” Kelly leaned forward, interested. “I just wasn’t sure. Jackson has always been better at identifying talents than me.
”
Libby shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe. What I do know is that he needs to know the truth. I can’t believe mum has never shared this with him. Whatever her reasons, she has to know that I can’t keep this sort of secret. Especially now she’s home.”
She hadn’t let herself think about what she would do if her mother asked her to keep quiet.
“So, Jackson reckons the guy in the Arms is a sociopath.”
Kelly didn’t reply as Libby changed the subject, just watched her steadily. Libby shifted uncomfortably.
“I had some kind of connection with him, Kelly. Don't you think I'd have been able to tell if he was evil?”
“I don’t know.” Kelly frowned down at her sandwich. “It's not normal to link twice – unheard of. I’ve got a bad feeling about the whole thing. Have you and Jackson talked about it?”
“No.” Deliberately not. What was there to say? The last thing she wanted was to discuss her second connection, and he seemed to feel the same way.
“You should. Will you go home in the morning?”
Libby looked up at Kelly, smiling. “As tempting as it is to stay…yes.”
She didn’t want to think about her mother’s possible reactions to Jackson and how serious things were between them. She didn’t want to think about facing her parents without Jackson. There was a lot that she didn’t want to think about.
“Tell me about Danny. Will everything be alright? Honestly?”
Kelly placed her half eaten sandwich on the plate, leaned back. “Yes. It'll be fine.”
“Fine? You keep using that word. It's unconvincing.” Libby watched her friend’s expression, more than a little concerned. “Whatever the row, he’s still Danny. You’re still you.”
“And we’re still linked, for better or worse.” Kelly’s tone somehow made this sound like a dire predicament.
Libby winced, remembering her friend's comment about losing herself. “Kelly-”
“It’s fine. We’ll be fine.” She sighed, pushed the plate away as though she couldn’t face the half eaten sandwich anymore. “I’m tired. You should get some sleep too, before the showdown with your mum.”
“I’m hoping it won’t be that dramatic,” Libby replied wryly, as she got to her feet. They loaded the plates into the dishwasher and made their way upstairs. “Keep your phone handy though, in case I need moral support.”
“Of course.” Kelly gave her arm a quick squeeze as they reached the upstairs landing. “Just be honest, Libby. And try to listen.”
“Ditto.” She hugged Kelly, a brief embrace of support. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight Libs.”
She heard the bedroom door close quietly as she crept up the half flight of stairs to Jackson’s room. As she eased in, barely making a sound, she heard him stir. He’d insisted on sleeping on the floor and she felt a twinge of guilt as she crossed over to the bed. She had suggested that they share it, but he’d simply given her a long look and made up his makeshift bed without responding.
She hadn’t pursued the matter.
“Libby?”
“I’m here.” She slid under the covers, listening to his breathing settle back into the rhythm of sleep. Smiling, she closed her eyes and slept.
Chapter Twenty
Libby was so nervous she had to let Jackson drive. She anxiously watched the countryside pass, noted the increase in houses as they neared town. Jackson didn’t speak and she was grateful. There was no conversation that she wanted to have, nothing either of them could say that would make things easier.
She needed to know where her mum had been, and why. She wanted to understand her mum’s talent, how it ran through the family, how she had kept it a secret for so long. She wanted to share her experience with her own talent, with Jackson. She glanced over at him and smiled at the sight of his face, so serious as he watched the road. She hoped they got on.
She blew out a breath, slow and deep. It wouldn’t help to get panicky now. Even as she had the thought, she felt it claw at her.
As they drew up outside the house, she lost control of her breathing and panicked. Completely.
“I can’t go in.”
She tried to steady her breathing, but it was too hard. She gasped for air, leaning forward to brace her elbows on her knees. Her muscles shuddered painfully as her skin turned clammy.
“You’re going in, regardless.” Jackson rubbed her back, apparently unsurprised by the sudden anxiety attack. “Breathe.”
“She might hate you.”
“Breathe, Libby.”
“What if she hates you?” She looked at him, eyes wide. “She might stop us seeing each other.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Breathe. Now.”
She took a deep breath, then another, her gaze fixed on his as though her life depended on it.
“Promise me that she won’t hate you.”
“She will hate me.” Jackson replied lightly. “She doesn’t know anything about me other than the fact we’re linked. I’d hate me, if I were her.”
“You’re right.” Bizarrely, the thought calmed her. “I almost hate you myself.”
“Great. You’re ready.” He opened the door and got out, leaving her no choice but to follow. He stopped on the driveway. “Are you sure you want me to come in?”
Libby threw him a dark look. Her legs were like jelly and she felt sick to her stomach. What did he think she would say?
“Try leaving.”
“Just checking.” His voice was mild. How come he wasn’t nervous?
Taking a steadying breath, she paused a moment before opening the front door.
They were waiting for her in the kitchen, a pot of tea and four mugs on the table. They had expected Jackson then, Libby realized. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not.
“Hey sweetie.” Her mother looked pale, as though she had barely slept. A quick glance at her father told her that he knew everything. The shell shocked expression couldn’t have been any clearer. She felt his disbelief, his amazement, and smiled.
“Hi.” She gestured towards Jackson. “Mum, this is Jack.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Jackson.” The words were friendly enough, but held a wealth of reservation.
“You too. Hey Eric.”
Her dad smiled slightly. “Jack. Take a seat, kids.”
They sat. It seemed as though no one knew where to start. To Libby’s surprise, her father spoke first.
“I wish you’d told me what was going on here, Libby. Your mother’s absence was no excuse.”
“What?” Slightly put out, Libby folded her arms across her chest defensively. “There is no way you would have believed me if I’d told you I was an empath.”
“I would have,” he said firmly. “I believed your mother all this time, although she didn’t give me all the details.” The last comment saw him throwing a reproving glance at her mother.
“You knew?” Disbelieving, Libby looked from one to the other. “Really?”
“Of course I knew. You’re mother has always been sensitive to other people’s emotions. The first day you came home from school upset because your best friend wouldn’t play with you anymore, she could barely keep from crying. I didn’t quite realize that there was a whole community of talents, but I suppose it makes sense.”
“You suppose it makes sense,” Libby repeated slowly, amazed. “Right.”
“Libby, I would never lie to your father,” her mother spoke up after a moment. “There are no secrets between any of us now.”
“Apart from where you’ve been all this time. And where you went after your sister died.”
The silence was heavy. Francis sighed, rubbed her hands over her face.
“It’s not a secret, as such. I needed help.” She sounded tired and Libby felt a pang of guilt. “Shielding has never been easy for me, I don’t know why. There are people we can go to, to get the help we need.”
“Like psychiatrists?” Libby offered.
“Yes, of sorts
.” Francis flicked her gaze to Jackson. “I’m sure Jackson will be able to fill you in on how it works.”
Confused, Libby looked from her mother to Jack and was alarmed by how pale he looked. There was a defiant look in his eyes that made her nervous. What was going on here?
“Secrets already?” Francis asked wryly.
“It’s not a secret, as such,” he countered quietly.
“Enough,” Eric leaned forward, began pouring tea. “Mind their business, Fran.”
Libby felt as though she’d walked into some other universe. What did her mother know about Jackson’s past? More importantly, how did she know it?
“What’s going on? Are you an empath? I assumed you were an empath.”
“She is,” Jackson muttered. “She’s also a Seer.”
“A what?”
Francis took the tea that Eric offered. “I can see events in people’s pasts. Important ones. Life changing ones.”
As Libby met her mother’s gaze, she paled as she realized the implications of that. She cleared her throat. “How does that work exactly?”
“As you’d expect,” Jackson replied darkly.
“I get impressions,” Francis explained, as though Jackson hadn’t spoken. “Just like snap shots, I suppose. A glance into a moment of what happened, how it affected the person.”
“Jesus Christ,” Libby breathed, horrified. Her first thought was for Jackson, even as she felt him struggle to beat down fear. Then, for herself. The thought that her mother was able to see her experiences, her private experiences, made her uncomfortable to say the least. Some things you did not want your mother knowing. She didn’t realize that she’d reached for Jack’s hand until his fingers gripped hers.
“Libby.” Eric spoke sharply. “Language.”
Francis smiled. “Don’t worry, darling, you shield beautifully. I’m so pleased that isn’t a problem for you. Also, I never pry.”
“But Jack-”
“Wasn’t shielding.” Jackson gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “It seemed best to be upfront, although I didn’t expect the second talent.”
Francis regarded him with sympathy and a new warmth that had Libby relaxing a little.
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