The Forbidden Trilogy

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The Forbidden Trilogy Page 21

by Kimberly Kinrade


  Drake caught my eyes, and I could see him waging his own internal war. Neither of us said anything about our run-in with Kylie, but it weighed heavily on us both for different reasons. Drake, I knew, wanted me to embrace my new powers and use them to protect myself and our baby. I wanted him to find other ways of handling conflict. I feared we would never resolve our differences, and it worried me. This power had always been a part of him; by rejecting the power, was I also rejecting the man?

  Brad broke the uncomfortable silence. "Okay, what are some of your friends' para-powers?"

  "My best friend, Lucy, is a human lie detector. She's a pain in the butt to be around sometimes."

  Brad laughed. "I can't imagine what that's like."

  I stuck my tongue out at him, then continued. "Her twin, Luke, is also my best friend. He walks through walls, or anything solid. There are teens and kids with all kinds of powers—super strength and mind control like Drake, fire starting, the ability to freeze things, seduction."

  Brad's eyes perked up. "Seduction, huh? Is this a sexy girl, by chance?"

  "You are such a man. Yes, she's sexy. No, you can't date her. She's a bitch."

  "Okay, what else?"

  "Hmm... teleporting, floating in the air, levitation—just about anything you can imagine."

  "What's the worst thing you ever had to do for Rent-A-Kid?"

  Five years of assignments, of spying on people with my "gift," rushed through my thoughts. The worst thing? How do you pick out the worst from a sea of awful?

  Images of Tommy flooded my mind. Poor, sweet, innocent Tommy, stuck with a father whose thoughts alone had plagued my nightmares for months. The things he did to those little girls.... I shuddered.

  "I was once sent to get dirt on a guy's business partner. Turns out the dirt was dirtier than anyone had imagined."

  I told them about that last assignment, how I'd stood up to a client and gotten a black eye for my efforts. My thoughts drifted to Tommy and his family. Tommy's father now served time in prison, but the money had all been his mother's. Their wealth was intact but their family had been destroyed.

  Now that I was free, I wanted to check on him as I had promised.

  The sun beat down on the back of my neck and arms, and I could practically feel the vitamins soaking into my pale skin.

  We walked past a large table with ceramic art pieces on it. I held up one of the sun and moon interlocked. "I've always loved this symbol. Wouldn't this make a cool tattoo?"

  Drake raised his eyebrow but said nothing. I winked at him and we continued our walk.

  "Hey, check it out." Drake laughed and motioned to a man with a sign hanging around his neck. Kick My Butt for $1.

  I couldn't help but grin. "Seriously? He lets people pay him to kick him?"

  "Yo, Drake, you should do it. It'd be the last ass-kicking he ever asked for." Brad eyed the guy and clicked off his recorder.

  I was all talked out, and I wanted to enjoy at least some of this mostly miserable day.

  "Leave him alone, you guys. Must be hard enough being him." Something else caught my eye. "Oh, let's go in there." I pointed out a big sign that read, "Venice Beach Freakshow, featuring a five-legged dog, a super tall man, a tiny little woman, a show in which another man swallows a flaming sword, and more."

  We crammed into the small room and watched each "freak" demonstrate their unique abilities. The guy who shoved an entire sword down his throat impressed the boys.

  "Maybe we should join the Freakshow. We might finally find a place to fit in. You could be the World's Strongest Man, and I could be the Mind Reader!"

  Drake smiled. 'You know, I actually thought about it when I was younger. Nearly approached them too, but didn't really want to be the center of attention like that. I just had this nagging fear someone would find me if I did.'

  "Obviously not an unjustified fear." I thought of how they did eventually find him, capture him, and keep him locked up and powerless like a dog.

  'Don't be so sad. I'd go through it all again if that's the only way I could've found you.'

  We had a total tourist moment, taking pictures with the World's Tallest Man and the World's Shortest Woman before joining the stream of pedestrians again.

  My worry about the world eased away, and I found myself feeling normal, just enjoying a sunny afternoon at the beach with my boyfriend.

  "Dude, is that really you?" A tall, lanky guy with sun-bleached hair jogged toward Drake with a surfboard in hand. "Man, where the hell have you been? You disappeared after the competition, and no one's seen or heard from you since. Dude, you were primed to win that day. What gives?"

  Drake plastered a smile on his face and bumped fists with the guy.

  Brad's smile, at least, seemed genuine. "Rick, how the hell are you?"

  "Hey, Brad, haven't seen you out on the waves lately. Busy with the writing? Making national headlines?"

  "Something like that."

  Rick looked at me. "And who's this?"

  Drake stood protectively by me. "This is my girlfriend, Sam. Sam, this is one of my old surfing buddies, Rick."

  I shook Rick's hand. "Nice to meet you."

  His eyes drifted to my belly then back up. "You too. How long have you and Drake been together?"

  Before I could answer, Drake interrupted. "A while. And yes, the baby's mine. I'm going to be a dad."

  Rick's eyes grew big, but he composed himself quickly and slapped Drake on the back. "Congrats, dude. That's awesome. You'll make an epic father. You can teach your little dude how to catch the perfect wave."

  A glow lit in me as I imagined Drake holding our child on a surfboard, teaching him or her the secrets of the ocean.

  "So what happened to you guys?" Rick asked.

  "I ran into some trouble that day at the competition. It's a long story."

  "Well, you're back now, and at least that ass-wipe Max didn’t win. We should hang, catch some waves. You game?"

  "Would love to, but my surfboard is trashed, and I don't have the cash to replace it right now. Besides, I've got some pretty big things on my plate. I'm just giving Sam the tour before we head home."

  "Too bad, man. You were the best of us. Oh, funny I should run into you. A few days ago, two big guys in black came by looking for you at the surf shop. Got a bad feeling about them. None of us had seen you, so we couldn't tell them anything. Not that we would have. What's going on, man? You got yourself some trouble of the bad kind?"

  I slipped into Rick's mind. "Do you remember what they looked like?"

  I didn't listen to his answer. Instead, I memorized the images he pulled forward so I could draw them later.

  Chills ran down my arms. "People have found us? Already?"

  'Guess so. Shit. I'm sorry, Sam. We never should have come back to my old stomping grounds.'

  "It's not your fault. Where else would we have gone?"

  "Hey, thanks for telling me, Bro. Appreciate it. But we've got to get going. Can you do me a favor and pretend you never saw me today? I don't know what these guys want from me, but I have a feeling it's nothing good."

  Rick slapped Drake on the back and fist-bumped Brad. "Take care, man. I never saw you. Peace, Bro. Nice meeting you, Sam. Take care of my boy."

  Rick walked away and soon became engrossed in conversation with two girls in bikinis who seemed very interested in his surfboard.

  Once Rick was out of earshot, Drake said, "I think it's time we head to the police. We need to at least try."

  I nodded. "Okay, let's go."

  I ignored the smells tempting me from the shops. My stomach rumbled. Now would be the time I got my appetite back.

  As we rounded a building with a large mural, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. A man dressed all in black stared at me from the corner. He didn't avert his gaze when we locked eyes. A chill traveled down my spine, and the baby kicked hard into my ribs. I grabbed Drake's and Brad's hands and pulled them around the corner and out of sight.

  "
Someone is watching us."

  We hustled back to the car. I scanned minds to see if we stuck out to anyone, but didn't find anything. The man was gone. Had Rick made me paranoid or was someone really following us?

  "Sam, who did you see?" Drake asked once we were safely in Brad's car and headed toward the police station.

  "Male. Black pants and shirt. Bald, but not old—his head looked shaved to the skin. Brown eyes, I think."

  Brad glanced at me. "Could you draw him?"

  "Yes." I grabbed my purse, pulled out my sketchpad and pencils. The supple leather brought back memories I tried hard to push aside. Instead, I closed my eyes and pictured the man in my mind. After a few minutes, a sketch of him covered the paper, detailed enough so any of us could recognize him.

  "I can't believe how fast you did that. You are good!" Brad said.

  "I told you, Dude, she's incredible. You should see some of the sketches she did of me before we'd even met in person. They're amazing!"

  My face flushed at the compliments, but then the memories returned, and my heart sank into my gut. I missed Mr. K, my mentor and art teacher. The evil Dr. Pana had killed him and destroyed all of my artwork, including a painting that could have made my career in New York. My mind drifted to the life I should have had. Had the Sarah Lawrence College art program really accepted me? What would they say if I called to check on my application? Any chance my tuition was actually paid?

  I mentally kicked myself in the head. Of course not, dummy. Rent-A-Kid never intended for me to leave the medical clinic. Why would they shell out money for an education I'd never use? At least that bastard Pana was dead.

  My old dreams were just as dead, and I needed a new plan, one that included Drake and our baby and, apparently, Brad. They loved it here, but did I? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay in this area. I’d always had my heart set on New York. The constant sun and Barbie Doll girls walking around didn't bother me... much. Maybe that would change. My pale skin and brown hair didn't exactly scream local, either, but whatever. If I couldn't handle being different from everyone else, I had bigger problems than hair color and lack of pigmentation.

  I could get used to it here. The perfect weather, scent of salt-water and ever-present sound of crashing waves soothed me, even if I didn't love everything about Southern California. Like the sagging palm trees with their bloated hula skirts that lined the streets. Why did people like them so much? Palms had to be the ugliest trees ever.

  Drake nudged me from the backseat. "What are you thinking about?"

  "Can't you just slip in and find out for yourself?" I countered, more harshly than I'd intended.

  He softened his voice. "Sometimes I like to have actual conversations."

  "Thank you," said Brad. "Someone is finally considering my feelings in all this."

  "Yeah, dude, because it's all about you," said Drake.

  "Palm trees," I blurted out.

  "Palm trees?" They both spoke in unison.

  "Yes. Horrible, ugly, abomination of nature palm trees! That's what I was thinking about."

  Drake laughed. "Here I thought it was something serious."

  "This is very serious. Have you seen those things?" I gestured to the outside, where they all lived, hundreds of eyesores littering California's coastline.

  At Rent-A-Kid, we had real trees: pines and aspens and Douglas firs, trees that stood tall and proud and filled the air with the heady scent of woods.

  I missed my life there at times, as strange as that may have seemed. Life had been good, at least the parts that passed as normal for my friends and me.

  I glanced down at the sketch in my hands. The scary man's eyes stared at me as if trying to read my mind.

  Nothing felt normal anymore.

  "Drake, I think it's time we tried to link to Luke and Lucy. We need to tell them what's going on."

  "Are you sure you're strong enough? Last time it took you days to recover, and you've been sick for weeks."

  "I know, but I have a bad feeling about all this. We need more information."

  Chapter 32 – Lucy

  The large man in the dark suit glared at Lucy. "Tell me about her friends. Who did she hang out with? Who would she contact on the outside for help?"

  Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and gave him her worst evil eye. Such a stereotype, as if he'd just walked off the set of Men in Black. He just needed the sunglasses to complete the look. "I've told you everything. Sam didn't know anyone on the outside. None of us do. How would we? As for her friends—we were it, and really only out of pity. She was a total loner. We felt sorry for her."

  Mr. Black—Could that seriously be his real name?—was the new "Head Grunt" at Rent-A-Kid. His brown, high-and-tight crew cut screamed ex-military, as did the way he stood at attention and wore his suit as if it were a uniform. He towered over her, probably going for the intimidating look, his beady brown eyes staring at her over his crooked nose.

  He slammed his meaty fist on the table. "Look, smartass, I've got a guy questioning your brother. I may not have super powers like you freaks, but I will find out if you're lying."

  Lucy didn't flinch. "Luke will tell you the same thing. We hung out with her once in a while, to make her feel better. Yeah, she was our friend, but we didn't know she was planning to escape. I thought she was in New York. Why isn't she in New York, by the way? Why did she need to escape at all?"

  The man reached for the gun in his holster, then moved his hand away when he saw Lucy watching him. Lucy waited for him to answer, to say anything.

  His voice hovered on the brink of a scream. "I'm asking the questions here, not you. Who is her outside contact? She must have one. Tell me now!"

  Lucy grumbled in frustration. He had to actually answer a question for her lie-detecting para-power to work. Either he knew that and avoided giving her what she needed, or he was just a pain in the ass naturally. She suspected both. "You can yell at me all you want, Mr. Black. I can't tell you what I don't know. Would you rather I make something up just to get you off my back?"

  Behind her, a door opened and closed. Lucy turned.

  The man who'd been sent to interrogate Luke stood with a creased brow, sweaty pits, and a frown that made Lucy fight back a laugh. It looked as though he'd had as much luck with her twin as Mr. Black had with her. Bummer.

  The two men stormed out of the room, taking copious amounts of testosterone with them.

  Lucy leaned back with a tight smile and twirled her long dark ponytail around her fingers. She stared at the blank wall in front of her, unsurprised when Luke walked through it.

  "That was fun!" His grin, so boyish and sweet, reminded her of their childhood, when they still had hope for a better future. Luke switched to their made-up secret language. "Oh cheer up, Sis. I'm sure Sam is fine. She'll contact us when she can. She just needs to rest a bit."

  "I know. I just miss her like crazy. I miss her pale little face haunting the halls!"

  Luke's head perked up like a puppy. "They're coming. Catch you on the flip side, Sis." He faded back into the wall, leaving Lucy alone in the stale room.

  Mr. Black and his sidekick came back in, looking even meaner than they had before.

  He growled at her with the face of a bulldog. "You and your brother have been less than helpful, but we have to let you go. However, know this: if you are hiding anything, it won't end well for either of you. Got it?"

  Lucy stood and gave a mock salute. "Yes, Sir. Permission to return to my dorm, Sir."

  Mr. Black balled his fists and looked about ready to swing.

  Lucy knew she should feel fear, but couldn't muster it. Her world seemed more like a dream than reality. How could she be scared of a dream?

  Before it could get ugly, Sidekick not-too-roughly ushered her out of the room.

  Luke waited in the hall. The tasteful Tudor-style furniture of the office building had been cleared out shortly after Sam and Drake had escaped a month ago, replaced by a tacky military-like set-up to hou
se the new grunts: metal desks and filing cabinets that lacked any class, footlockers for supplies, and wire cages that held weapons under lock and key. It looked like an old G.I. Joe board game had thrown up on their campus—grown men turned into war-playing boys.

  There had been guards at the entrance before, but nothing so overt as now. They'd infiltrated her school like swarms of annoying ants, crawling all over the once pristine grounds and replacing the guards she'd trusted—even Old Charlie. He’d been like a grandfather, if her grandfather had been Chuck Norris and Jackie Chan rolled into one. It sucked.

  Lucy ran her hand over the chrome desks as they walked out, thinking back to the rich mahogany wood that had once sat there. Why take out all the nice furniture? The grunts could've at least pretended to fit in.

  She had a theory that they needed this set-up to convince themselves they were real men doing a real job. Because holding guns on a school full of kids and teenagers is so brave.

  A guard let them out of the building, and bright sunlight blinded her. Two hours of interrogations was two hours too long.

  Luke slung his arm over her shoulders. "You hungry?"

  "Starved!"

  They walked the winding paths to The Hub, a place that had once, not so long ago, been festive and fun. Despite the onslaught of ugly from their new "guests," the cobbled walking paths and perfectly manicured lawns, shrubs and trees refused to give up all of their Oxford-like charm. The cold season had sent its calling card early this year, in light dustings of snow, and the campus looked like a winter wonderland.

  Lucy and Sam had loved this season. The campus came alive with lighted Christmas trees, choirs singing and festive decorations that lined walkways.

  Lucy didn't think this year would be very jolly.

  All the shops in The Hub remained open for business, but with armed guards lining the cobbled sidewalks, it didn't attract as many students as it once had. Still, they needed food, and the cafeteria had closed about halfway into their little chat with the Men in Black.

  A bell jingled as they walked into Café Amour—an ironic name given the campus's very un-loving environment—and took a seat by the window. As busy as they'd been with classes and getting used to the change of regime, they hadn't been to the café since before the 'invasion.' It was nice to return to something semi-normal.

 

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