Talent

by Annie B Matthews

  “Should I be worried that the thought of a commitment to me is more frightening than an insane aunt bent on revenge?” Jack asked lightly, reading her instantly.

  “Probably.” She teased, ignoring the clutch of fear at the mention of Maria. “I don’t know why Danny and Kelly get off so lightly. No one even thinks about them getting married.”

  “Ah.” He grimaced slightly. “Yeah, funny that.”

  The smile fell from her face. “What’s funny?”

  He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Nothing.”

  For a long moment, she stared at him in confusion. Her mind started putting together the pieces, but the answer didn’t add up. Did it?

  “You can’t be serious.” Her face felt frozen in shock. “They’re not…”

  The word stuck in her throat. His amused expression was answer enough.

  “No.” She whipped her phone out of her pocket, hit the screen. Her gaze never left his as she waited. “Kelly, are you bloody married?”

  Kelly’s response had her seething. “We are going to talk. First thing.”

  Ending the call, she tossed the phone onto the kitchen table. “Unbelievable. Un-bloody-believable.”

  “Why are you so upset?” Jackson grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “I thought you valued respect for other people’s choices.”

  Hands on hips, she glowered at him. “Don’t throw my beliefs back at me. This is crazy. She’s not even eighteen!”

  “Romani people marry young,” he countered, tongue in cheek. “I’m sure other cultures do too. Are they all crazy?”

  For a moment, she saw red. Turning her back on him, she forced herself to take deep breaths.

  “You know, reading minds is a great way to share knowledge. Perhaps I’ll study social anthropology after all.” His voice was filled with laughter.

  She shook her head, hissing out a breath. “If you live that long.”

  He did laugh then. “Oh come on. Why shouldn’t Danny and Kelly get married?”

  “Why did they?”

  “I guess they didn’t see much point in waiting,” he shrugged.

  The connection, Libby thought with a glower. It’s always about the connection.

  Love, and the connection, Jackson corrected her mildly as he went back to his studying.

  Unbelievable. The connection would prove to be the bane of her life. It excused everything, was the reason for everything.

  It was everything.

  She hadn’t got her head around that, obviously. She wondered if she ever would. At what point would her new life start to feel normal? She loved Jackson. Adored him, actually. But forever was beyond anything she could conceive of.

  “Stop worrying about it,” Jackson said after a moment of following her thoughts. “It’s a personal choice; not everyone makes the same one.”

  “My parents did.”

  And mine.

  She turned to face him. “Well, no way. Sorry.”

  Jackson grinned, unconcerned. “Everyone’s different.”

  He didn’t seem offended so she relaxed a little. “We should probably talk, while we have the house to ourselves.”

  Libby hesitated. Watching her expectantly, Jackson rocked back on his chair.

  “Well?”

  “I know you want to go to uni in London. I've looked into a few different options too. I've made a list of places not too far apart that have good courses for us both. There are a couple of compromises.” She winced a little; the word had taken on a whole new meaning and it wasn’t a comfortable fit just yet.

  Jackson shook his head slowly, leaned forward to brace his arms on the kitchen table.

  “It’s a bit soon to worry about this, Libby.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

  “I just think that we have enough going on right now without worrying about what we're going to do in a couple of years.”

  His words stunned her. Had he changed his plans?

  “What do you mean? You need to start thinking about it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you'll miss the deadline if you wait any longer. Because you’ll want to get into the right university.” She spoke slowly, as if he’d suddenly started speaking a foreign language.

  His lips twitched.

  “Libby, I’m not applying this year.” Before she could protest, he held up his hand to stop her. “It’s better to do it together, so we have ages to decide. Tom’s dad has already offered me work at his garage after I finish school. It’s sorted.”

  Sorted.

  She squeezed her eyes closed. “Do you actually want to work at Tom’s dad’s garage?”

  The echo of his laughter ran through her head. “Are you kidding? Absolutely. It’ll be an awesome experience. What, are you worried about dating a mechanic?”

  Snapping her eyes open, she shot him a dark look. “Of course not. I’m worried that you’ll regret compromising your plans.”

  Jackson sighed, reaching for his textbook. “We’ve been over this. I’m with you. I want to be with you. We aren’t compromising, we are working out a way to do this…life…our way. Together. So stop obsessing about it. I’ve got an exam to revise for.”

  She watched him as he bent over the book, frowning in concentration. He was sincere, and plenty annoyed.

  “Fine,” she conceded at last. “Do you want a coffee or something?”

  His green eyes flicked up to meet hers, amused again. “A juice would be great. You know, that sounded kind of…wifely.”

  He laughed at her horrified expression and she felt her lips curve in response.

  “Oh, get it yourself. I’ve got my own study to do.”

  She waltzed out of the kitchen feeling strangely buoyant, as though all of her concerns had been dealt with. Perhaps they had.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  “It seemed the obvious thing to do.” Kelly’s voice was light, with a trace of amusement. “Why does this freak you out so much?”

  Libby ignored the question. She didn’t want to think about it.

  They sat with their backs against the school fence, watching the seventh form boys play football. It was sunny and it seemed as though every student was making the most of the weather during lunch. The boys had started a game, pulling off their ties and rolling up sleeves. Good-natured banter punctuated play as the ball was passed, intercepted, passed again.

  “When did you do it?”

  “Last year.” Kelly passed over a bag of crisps, her eyes on Danny as he weaved with the ball through a couple of defenders. “It was nice. Want to see pictures?”

  Tearing her gaze from the game, Libby looked at her friend. “You had a white dress and everything?”

  “Hell yes.” She pulled out her phone, scanned through a few apps before bringing up some pictures. “Here.”

  Kelly looked stunning, if terribly young. She also looked luminous. As for Danny…she wasn’t sure she’d seen him look so happy. Uncomfortable, Libby handed back the phone.

  “Amazing dress.”

  “Yeah,” Kelly grinned foolishly at some memory that Libby didn’t think she wanted to ask about.

  “I’m not freaked out,” she said instead, turning back to the game in time to see Jackson tackling his friend, Dave. He won the ball and made a neat pass to Danny. “Not really.”

  Kelly turned laughing eyes on her. “Sure.”

  “Hey girls.” Tom’s interruption was perfectly timed. He flopped down beside them. “I was hoping to find you all here.”

  Libby offered him Kelly's bag of crisps and he shook out a handful.

  “Thanks. My dad said to tell Jack that his bike parts have arrived.”

  “Great, I'll tell him. What have you been up to?”

  He shrugged. “Chess meet at the weekend.”

  “Oh yeah? Did you win?”

  He laughed. “Sadly, no. What about you guys?”

  Kelly hid a smile as Libby shrugged. “Not much. We watched a totally awful DVD on Saturday
night.”

  “Uh huh.” Tom raised an eyebrow at Kelly and she glanced at him.

  “What?”

  Libby laughed, nodding. “Yeah, she chose it.”

  The redhead pulled a face. “It wasn't that bad.”

  “Nice of you to show up, Tom,” Jackson flung himself on the ground in front of Libby, startling her. She hadn’t realized the game was over. “We could’ve used you in goal.”

  “If Danny had done a better job in defense it wouldn’t have mattered,” Dave goaded his friend as he joined them. Danny gave him the finger.

  “Don’t be sore losers,” Kelly said lightly. “It’s not attractive.”

  Jackson snorted. “Says you.”

  “I’m not a sore loser.”

  Danny laughed, ducking as she threw her empty drink bottle at his head.

  “Settle down kids,” Tom interrupted with a roll of his eyes. “Is anyone keen on going for a drink after school?”

  “Sure, let’s.” Dave sat up. “Danny owes us a drink anyway, after that crap performance.”

  The bell rang then, saving him from Danny’s response.

  “I’m keen,” Libby said as she stood up. “Jack?”

  “Whatever you want, darling.” He grinned as she looked at him in surprise, hardly hearing the jeering and laughter that followed his comment.

  What are you up to?

  Me? He laughed, scooping up her bag before she could get to it and handing it to her. Just showing how much I care.

  She regarded him suspiciously as they made their way back to class. “I don’t trust you for a minute.”

  He slapped a hand to his chest. “Ouch. After all we’ve been through together?”

  “What’s the real story?”

  “Really? I’m just hoping for five minutes alone together on the drive.”

  She grinned. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

  The constant parental presence was a real drag, even though her parents were pretty lenient.

  She waved as Jackson and Danny peeled off to the gym.

  “See you after class,” Kelly called out, heading off to music. Libby nodded absently.

  History.

  With a curse, she flipped open her bag and dug through the files. She’d left the project book in the car.

  “Tom,” she called over to him in irritation. “I just need to run to the car. Can you wait for me?”

  He nodded, said a few words to Dave, and then jogged over to catch her up.

  “Don’t want to walk in late by yourself?” His voice was teasing and she hesitated. There was no way that she could tell him what was really going on. In all honesty, she felt like an idiot asking him to wait for her. The school car park was hardly a hotbed of crime. Still, she’d promised everyone that she wouldn’t be alone.

  “Yeah. Plus we haven't had time to catch up for ages.”

  He slanted her a wry glance. “Right. You're that keen to hear about chess and mechanics.”

  Grinning, she turned to face him, walking backwards. “It’s one hell of a combination; tell me everything.”

  He rolled his eyes, then started as his glance shot past her. “Watch out, Libs.”

  She swung around, slamming straight into a hard wall of muscle.

  Her whole body went on alert.

  He had his hands on her before she could even scream out. Panicking, she kicked out but the man just banded his arms around her, trapping her arms and lifting her off the ground.

  “What the hell-?” Tom lunged forward, grabbed her. “Let go of her!”

  Libby screamed out, barely getting out the sound before a meaty hand clamped over her mouth.

  Jack!

  The man spun, her struggles barely making a dent in his hold. She was pitched forward into a van and she stumbled, scrambling to get to her feet. A massive weight slammed into her and knocked her flying.

  Winded, she lay still for a moment. She was bruised already and she felt the burn of grazed skin up her arm from where she’d skidded over the metal base of the van. The slam of doors brought darkness.

  “No!”

  She scrambled forward, aiming for the doors, before freezing, confused as her hands landed on an arm.

  “Libby? What the hell is going on?”

  “Tom?” She stopped, shook her head in confusion. She couldn’t see anything in the darkness. “What are you doing here?”

  “The bastard grabbed me and threw me in after you.” He hissed as she knelt on him.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, feeling for the walls of their prison. The motor started and she swore. Beating on the panel sides, she started yelling.

  After a moment, Tom joined her.

  The van took off. After the first few corners, they gave up trying to stay on their feet.

  “Okay, now what?” Tom sounded bemused. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  “We’re being kidnapped. And I imagine we’re on the way to wherever my aunt is hiding out.”

  Her reply met a startled silence. She wondered how much she should explain, how much he would want to hear.

  Frustrated, she cast out her mind in an attempt to reach Jackson. He would have heard her cry out, she was sure of it. After a moment, she felt him. The panic, the fury.

  Tell me everything.

  Jack. Thank God. I didn’t see the van. Some big guy picked me up and threw me in. She felt like screaming in frustration, fear. I can’t even tell you the colour. Tom’s here.

  Tom’s here. Thank God. She reached out to grab his arm, made contact with his leg.

  “Tom, what do you remember about him? Did you see the van?”

  “It’s blue. A Sprint. He’s big, over six foot. Dark haired. Small eyes.”

  Got it. I’m calling Paul right now.

  He was fading. Too much distance. Panic clawed at her throat.

  Jack!

  We’ll find you.

  It was as though they had been disconnected. She still felt him though, still felt the faint echo of his fear and grim determination. She clung to it, focused on it as though that would keep him close.

  “So, this aunt,” Tom began with an edge of sarcasm. “Care to fill me in?”

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  It took her about two seconds to decide to tell him everything. It took a lot longer to explain and answer all of his questions. She felt frustrated with some of them, but it wasn’t as though there was anything else that would occupy her time.

  After a while, Tom fell silent. It made her edgy and restless; he probably thought she was mad. After a few more minutes, she had to break the silence or scream.

  “How long have we been traveling?”

  “Thirty minutes,” he replied absently. “So, can you read me now?”

  “You’re more annoyed than scared. A little disbelieving.”

  He huffed out a half laugh. “Yeah, something like that. Still, it explains a few things.”

  Before Libby could ask what he meant, the van turned, slowed. The ride became bumpy.

  “Seriously? A country lane? Christ, if we get out and see an old wooden shack I’m going to flip.”

  Libby appreciated his attempt at levity. “You watch too many horror movies.”

  “It’s a point of reference,” he muttered, barely masking his fear. “It’s all we’ve got to go on, since we appear to be in a real life horror movie right this minute. We need a plan.”

  Her mouth was dry and she felt sick. She couldn’t think of a plan. She didn’t even know why the kidnapper had brought Tom along. It felt selfish, but she was glad not to be alone.

  “Stick together.”

  “That’s it? That’s the plan?” She could tell he was rolling his eyes. “Right. Shall we add to that? Stick together and make a run for it at the first opportunity.”

  “Okay.” She paused. “I wish I had my phone.”

  “Ditto. Only it's on the school car park, probably crushed to pieces. Yours should be fine; it landed on the path.”

 
“What a relief,” she retorted dryly.

  The van slowed and Tom reached for her hand.

  “I’m really hoping we won’t die.”

  She found herself laughing, even as tears stung her eyes. “Well, since Jackson is guaranteed to kill me anyway…”

  “Don't be daft. Just keep your head.”

  The words were barely out of Tom’s mouth before the doors were opened. The man appeared, dark haired as Tom had described. His eyes were narrowed as he peered into the gloomy interior. He was huge. Her stomach rolled as she noticed the gun in his hand.

  “Get out.”

  In silence, they climbed out of the van. They were in a field. Libby looked around, searching for any sign of life, but there were no houses in sight. She couldn’t even tell where the road was, thanks to the distant tree line that seemed to circle them.

  Tom’s hiss had her swinging around to face him. Following his gaze, she saw the wooden barn, battered by the weather, its brown paint peeling.

  “Crap.”

  “Move.” The man gestured towards the barn and they shared a glance. This was not good. At all.

  “Move!”

  She didn’t see that they had a great deal of choice. Trying to stop herself from trembling, Libby walked close to Tom, their hands joining and clutching together.

  The barn was lighter than she expected. A gaping hole in the roof streamed through sunlight. A woman leaned lazily against an old workbench. Libby could see the resemblance immediately. The same eyes as her mother, similar colouring. She shuddered.

  The woman looked up, her satisfied smile slipping as her gaze ran over Tom.

  “Who’s this?” She did not sound pleased.

  “The boy.” The bored tone of their captor was laced with impatience. Libby wondered at it.

  Maria scowled as she pushed herself off the workbench and stalked towards them.

  “Not the boy I asked for.” She stopped a foot away, looking Tom in the eyes. “Who are you?”

  “Tom. I’m a friend of Libby’s.”

  She held his gaze for a moment, nodded. “Well, Tom, we’ll see what we can do with you.”

  Her eyes flicked to Libby. She wondered, as her aunt studied her, whether she cared about the blood between them. Did she really intend to kill her niece, her own family? Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. She pushed through her own panic, searching for Jackson. There was nothing. Nothing of him at all.