The Forbidden Trilogy

by Kimberly Kinrade

  Drake hadn't turned around all the way when Kylie slipped her slender arm around his waist and pressed her body against his back.

  His skin crawled at her touch.

  She leaned in close to his ear, her voice a contrived throaty whisper. "I've been missing you, Drakey boy. Nobody has ever had the stamina you do."

  "Drake?"

  Oh, shit.

  Drake turned to face the last person he wanted to see in that moment.

  Sam.

  Chapter 29 – Sam

  I couldn't breathe. My heart sank to my feet and waited for death to extinguish its last few remaining beats.

  Drake stood there with a gorgeous Victoria Secret model-type wrapped around him like one of those little monkeys on the Discovery Channel.

  A chemical reaction in my brain wiped out any thought or reason, and before I could stop myself, I knocked the woman to the ground using mind control. Her perfect yoga ass hit the sand, and her face contorted into a comical mask of shock and disbelief.

  Drake looked... proud? Ugh. Not the reaction I wanted from him.

  He reached out for my hand. "Sam, it's not what it looks like. She showed up and... it just... nothing happened. Nothing was going to happen. I swear to you." 'Read my mind. You'll know I'm telling the truth.'

  I did. Not everything I learned helped the situation—like the fact that he'd slept with this tramp before he met me. But I also felt his revulsion. He couldn't stand her touch or her presence, and wanted nothing to do with her.

  That made two of us.

  And yes, he was proud of me for using mind control on her. I squished the little demon of contention that threatened to make a bad situation worse. This wasn't the time or place for Drake and me to debate the moral ambiguities of our powers.

  Not taking the hint, the woman stood up, brushed herself off and inserted her fake double-D's between me and my man. Was she stupid? I can destroy your mind if I choose to.

  Drake barely controlled a laugh when he caught my thoughts.

  I scowled at him. He was so not off the hook for this.

  Drake brushed the woman aside and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Kylie, this is my girlfriend, Sam."

  Kylie's face dropped, but then she looked down at my belly. A smirk crept onto her pretty, silicone-injected lips. "Ah, I see. Trap by baby. That explains it." She poked her finger into my shoulder. "You think this little bundle of joy will hold Drake down? It won't. You can't give him what I can, in or out of the bed. It's only a matter of time before he comes crawling back to me."

  My face went hot from rage. I pried open her mind without any of my usual subtlety and ripped into her thoughts like a college kid tearing into a bag of potato chips.

  She squeezed her eyes shut as if in pain. I didn't care.

  'Why is he with this shapeless loser when he could have me? He didn't find out about me and Brad, did he? Is that why he stopped coming around?'

  "He didn't need to know you screwed his best friend to drop you. You never meant anything to him."

  Kylie's eyes got so big I thought her eyeballs would pop out. Drake looked from her to me and back to her. "You and Brad? Seriously?"

  "How could she know? Nobody knew. How?"

  Drake's face turned to stone, but he kept his arm around me while he addressed her. "Just leave, Kylie. Leave me alone. I don't ever want to see you again."

  I couldn't tell if Drake had coerced her using mind control, or if she'd left because of the tone of his voice, but at least she was gone.

  I slumped in Drake's arms and fought the tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm a horrible person."

  What kind of hypocrite am I? I can't get over Drake using his powers against me to save my life, but I'm apparently more than willing to use mine against his old girlfriend. I basically mind-raped her, and for what? Because she had her hands on my boyfriend? Because she looks better in a swimsuit than I do?

  I hung my head in shame as my tears threatened to betray me.

  Chapter 30 – Drake

  Drake turned Sam to face him. "No, you're not horrible. You're human and she was being a bitch. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. What are you even doing out here? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

  "I'm feeling better. Or at least I was. I think the worst is over. I’m guessing it’s withdrawal from those new 'vitamin' shots they gave us."

  Vitamins. Right. The drugs those bastards had given Sam’s best friends, Luke and Lucy, had turned them into mindless puppets, but Drake and Sam had undone the damage using their combined para-powers. The same drugs had made Sam physically sick, but hadn’t compromised her mental abilities. It made sense that they were still in her system.

  Her eyes peeked open, revealing the dazzling blue that took his breath away each time he looked at her. Her cheeks had pinked a bit, and the dark circles under her eyes had begun to fade.

  "I'm not shaking as much, and I ate a whole egg this morning."

  He smiled. One egg wasn't enough, but it was a lot more than she'd been able to keep down lately. He'd take any small victory at this point.

  Sam reached up and pressed her lips against his. The kiss ignited all the passion he'd been keeping bottled up since he and Sam met in person.

  Patience had never been one of his virtues, but with Sam it was different. He couldn't rush her or force her into being with him before she was ready.

  She'd been through so much, and while he craved her body in ways that making out just didn't satiate, he'd promised her, and himself, that he would wait until she felt comfortable. But with skin so milky and soft, hair so smooth and rich, and eyes that seduced him with every glance, it was getting harder and harder to keep his hands to himself.

  He was beginning to sympathize with Joseph, Mary's betrothed in the Bible, except Sam was carrying Drake's child, not God's. And still, they'd done nothing more than kissing and some touching. Drake wondered what Father Patrick would say about this. He'd probably be amused that Drake, who believed in nothing, would draw parallels to himself and Joseph.

  "Earth to Drake. You still here?"

  "Sorry. I was just thinking about how beautiful you are."

  Sam dropped her head and pulled away. "Yeah, right. I could just read your mind, you know."

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing. It's just... I worry that if I don't... you know... with you soon, the next time some girl rubs up against you, you won't be able to resist. And then I'll lose you forever."

  Drake pulled her against his chest and held her tight. "Sam, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my whole life. Nothing could ever keep me from you. You don't need to worry about that. Ever. Okay?"

  She nodded against his chest, but didn't speak.

  "Hey, I've got an idea. We're already here at Venice Beach, and you've been wanting to take a tour of the place, so why don't we walk around? I'll buy you an ice cream and introduce you to the freakishness that is Venice. What do you say?"

  Finally, a smile. He held her hand and led her into the crowd, praying that no other surprises awaited them.

  Chapter 31 – Sam

  An ocean breeze tempered the warm sun as we walked by the many displays and shops in Venice. The crashing waves in the distance and smell of seawater relaxed me in a way I hadn't anticipated. Looking around at the diversity that was Venice Beach, I could understand its appeal to Drake. Here, people from every walk of life came to hang out. Here, we could easily get lost in the crowd.

  We walked over to an ice cream stand, and Drake bought me a mint-chip cone. Even this close to winter, Southern California still had warm days.

  His phone beeped. He pulled it from his pocket and responded to a text as he explained, "Brad. He'll be here in a minute. Sounds like his day sucked."

  We sat on a bench and enjoyed our ice cream in silence.

  Brad approached and slouched onto the bench next to us, his long legs extended out in front of him. "They practically laughed me out of the office when I tried to pitch them the s
tory of paranormal kids being rented out by an evil organization. Oh, hey, Sam. You're looking a lot better. How do you feel?"

  "Good, thanks. I think I'm over the worst of it." I licked a bit of melting ice cream from my cone.

  Drake's arm tightened around me, avoiding the not-quite-healed bullet wound on my arm, a souvenir from our escape. I scooted closer to him. Even without our mental link, he felt the shift in my energy at this news.

  "We'll just have to go to plan B," he said.

  We didn't have a plan B, and everyone knew it.

  Brad rolled his eyes but remained silent.

  This level of hopelessness wouldn't get us far.

  "There's got to be another way to bring our story to the world," I said. "Look at how much we've already done. Drake and I escaped Rent-A-Kid. That, in itself, is a miracle. Granted, we had some major setbacks in the process."

  My hand rested on my bulging belly. My baby. Our baby, Ana.

  Our baby's namesake consumed my thoughts. My best friends never even knew they had a mom until moments before her death, let alone one who loved them so much. Now they'd never know her. She died helping us escape the clinic....

  ***

  Ana lay against me, pinning me to the floor.

  I screamed. A crimson gash covered her abdomen. I tried to move my arm and flinched. Blood covered my right shoulder. Two bullets—one in her, and one that just grazed me. She must have moved at the last minute, threw herself in front of me.

  She'd saved my life.

  This plan was supposed to be simple. How could this happen?

  My hearing returned as I choked on my sobs. I held Ana and rocked her, stared at her, willing her to wake up. I waited for that movie moment when she would open her eyes and tell me it was okay, that it was best this way. When she would make me vow to help her children and all the other kids in this hellhole.

  That moment never came.

  I was robbed of those last words, that final connection.

  ***

  ...I pushed those thoughts away, before I spiraled back into the pit of depression I had been living in for the last two weeks. No time to dwell on the dead. I had to stay focused on the living, and on how to keep them that way.

  Drake squeezed my hand. 'We'll keep our baby safe. I promise.'

  "I hope so. It's just hard to believe it when I don't see a way out of this. We don't even exist to the rest of the world. At least I don't. How are we going to protect our daughter if we can't even take care of ourselves?"

  'First, you need to fully recover. Then we'll make a plan.'

  Brad cleared his throat and ran a tanned hand through his hair. "Hey, guys, it's great that you two lovebirds have the whole telepathic connection going on, but maybe you could talk out loud for those of us who don't have para-powers?"

  I smiled. "Sorry. Bad habit."

  "I know. I just feel like the third wheel around you guys sometimes." He stood up and paced on the grass in front of us. Both Brad and Drake were tall, but where Drake had bulk and major muscle, Brad was a lanky beanpole topped with unruly brown hair.

  He continued. "What do we do now? I still think the best way to stay safe is to get the story out—to let the world know what's going on and get some support and protection on our side. I thought, after working at the paper for a year, they would've at least heard me out. But they said if I want to write fiction I should dump journalism and become a novelist."

  I reached out to pat his hand. "Ouch. I'm so sorry, Brad. That sucks."

  "Yeah, Bro," Drake said, "I know how important your job is to you."

  I squeezed Drake's hand. "I still think we should go to the police. It's not like we live in a third world country. The police are the good guys, right?"

  "In theory," said Brad. "But you're talking about paranormal powers and secret organizations. They could just as easily put you in a mental institution."

  "But we can prove we have these powers. They don't have to take our word for it. They can test us. Then they'd have to at least listen to our story."

  "Then they'd just put you in a lab."

  Drake nodded. "I don't disagree with you, Bro, but I think it's worth a shot. I'm not a fan of the system, but maybe we can get some support. If not, we leave. We haven't committed a crime and we're not a danger to our selves or others, so they can't keep us against our will. If all else fails, I get us out and no one remembers we were there."

  I shifted under Drake's arm. "You know, Brad, I thought Drake would be the cynical, can't-trust-authority one. Not you."

  Brad frowned. "If you guys really want to risk it, I have a contact in the department from my Crime Watch days. We can talk to him tomorrow."

  A huge weight lifted off my shoulders. If we could get support from the authorities, we had a chance at success. "In the meantime, I still think we should get our story out there. And I have an idea. Brad, you could use your blog."

  "Sam, my blog gets all of twenty hits a day, if I'm lucky. That's hardly enough to gain us huge support."

  "But anything can go viral at any moment. We just need a little luck and an interesting story."

  We stood and walked down the sidewalk littered with displays, homeless people, street performers and shops. I thought about Gar, my Rent-A-Kid bodyguard who had died trying to help me escape. He had a little girl out there, Serena, with powers to heal. His wife was probably in hiding, but if I could find her, maybe she could help us get the story out.

  Or maybe not. She wouldn’t want the world knowing about her daughter. The power to heal was special, but dangerous. If Serena used her gifts too often, she would die.

  We needed to find our own way of convincing the world to believe us.

  Brad fidgeted with his phone as if it held the answer to reaching the masses. "I’ve been working on building my social media following, and this is a compelling story. I guess it can't hurt, and there's nothing else I can think to do at this point."

  He searched his phone for something then smiled. "It does have a recorder app. Want to do a quick interview right now?"

  "Um, sure, I guess."

  He clicked the record button. "What's the first memory you have of your childhood, Sam?"

  Drake's body pressed into me—or mine into him, I couldn't tell—as I thought back to my earlier years. "I don't know if this is my first memory or not, but I was young, four or five years old, and my teacher was asking me a question...."

  ***

  "Hello, Sam, what are you drawing?" Mrs. Rosewood asked.

  "It's a mommy and a daddy with a little girl."

  "Are you the little girl?"

  "No. I don't have a mommy and daddy."

  "That's because you are a very special little girl, with very special gifts." 'So awful that these kids are taken so young... no family... alone... breaks my heart.'

  I touched her hand. "Don't let your heart break, Mrs. Rosewood. I'm okay. I'm not alone. I have you."

  "Sam, did you just read my mind?" Mrs. Rosewood pulled her hand away.

  "I don't know what that means. You said it was awful, that I was alone and your heart was breaking. Don't be sad. I'm not."

  ***

  "...Mrs. Rosewood rushed out of the room, and the next day I was moved to a different class. Looking back, I don't understand. I was already at Rent-A-Kid—that's what we called it. They knew I could read minds. I guess this teacher just wasn't prepared for it. It freaked her out. After that, I learned to tell the difference between thoughts and speech. I only responded to what people said."

  Brad nodded. A mime started to follow us while we walked. He pantomimed swinging one arm while holding his phone up, then mimicked Drake's arm around me. At another time, I might have laughed—he captured the nuances of their body language perfectly—but my mind was too distracted. He shrugged dramatically and moved on to another group when we ignored him.

  "No wonder you and Drake bonded. He's had similar experiences."

  Catching Drake's eye, I smiled and blew a k
iss at him. He leaned down to make it real.

  "What experiences did you have?"

  'There's a funny story about a Bishop that I'll tell you later. But there was other stuff too, like that time I beat up one of my foster dads when he was beating on his wife and the other kids. It's impossible to live a normal life with power like this, no matter how hard you try.'

  Brad nudged us, and we nearly toppled over like dominoes. "Get a room, guys."

  Drake punched Brad's shoulder, though I could tell he held back considerably. After all, a true punch would send Brad flying across the sidewalk and would probably break his arm.

  Brad retaliated with his own punch, and the boys were suddenly running around me like toddlers.

  "Hey, guys, you're making a scene."

  They straightened themselves and lowered their heads. "Sorry, Sam," they said in unison.

  I laughed and swatted each of them in the arm. "Back to the questions now?"

  Brad cleared his throat and reset the recorder that he'd dropped. "Right. So, Sam, you can read minds, and you just recently learned to control minds. Which power do you like best or find more useful?"

  "I don't like using the mind control, but reading minds isn't as fun as it sounds either." Drake tensed next to me, but I refused to acknowledge the discomfort inherent in this topic.

  "Why don't you like being able to control minds? I think everyone would want that power."

  "It makes me feel dirty. When...." I looked at Drake, then looked away. "When it was done to me, I realized how it felt to be powerless. I'd never want to make anyone feel that way."

  But I had, just a few minutes ago, and for the pettiest of all reasons. What did that make me? Self-loathing clawed at my soul. A part of me would always be tainted by this immoral power. A power Drake also shared—and embraced. If I hated myself for what I could do, then what did I feel for the man I loved?