I turn to the Jeep as fast as I can. My shaking hands can barely get the key in the door. Turning my back to them was my first mistake. A hand clasps my shoulder and roughly turns me around. My keys slip out of my hand and to the cement stairs.
Losing my only form of defense was my second mistake.
“You need to be taught a lesson,” he says and lifts his mask.
His face is as ugly as I remember: swollen, red-splotched and twisted with rage.
“He said not to take off the mask,” one of the lackeys says.
“Shut up,” he spits to the side, not taking his gaze off me. “I want her to remember what happens when she forgets her place.”
He grabs my chin and turns my head to the side. Was this really happening? Was I really being attacked on my own porch? This beautiful day has ended so disastrously. First Lincoln, and now this?
For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Is this what happens when I experience joy? Did I somehow set these events into motion?
“I will say …” He turns my head to the other side. He squeezes my cheeks so hard my molars dig into them. “You’re actually pretty hot. Much better than the other day. Smile for me, gorgeous.”
I flail and kick but the leather apron absorbs the blows and shooting pain travels through my toes. His hand goes to my throat to stop me from flailing.
My wild eyes shoot to the lackeys. They’re nervous in the dimming light, gazes constantly searching to see if any neighbors will come out. The Davies’ garden is empty; they’re nowhere to be seen. It’s a blessing and a curse.
“Why would you cover all this up? Maybe I wouldn’t have been so annoyed.” His breath is sour from cheap beer and cigarettes.
His gaze scours me like a Brillo pad scraping down my skin.
A curious thing happens to me the more he talks. Fear, absolutely. But something more invigorating than that. An understanding that for once, I have the upper hand. So many stories follow this same pattern: men do unspeakable things to a helpless victim simply because they physically can. Men overpower those weaker than them for their own petty needs.
Centuries of anger rise up within me. These men think they have cornered an easy target. But my weeks with Nathaniel have shown me that I’m capable of more than I ever thought. I’m the stronger person here. I will squash them like the cockroaches of society they are.
“He said to grab her and leave. Come on, man,” the shorter one says. He steps forward with the chains.
The other says, “I didn’t know we had to beat up a chick. This is fucked.” He’s about two seconds from sprinting away. He keeps shooting glances at me like I’m the one who attacked them. Like I am the one to fear.
Looks like he’s the only one with any sense.
Their ringleader sneers. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. She needs to learn her place.” His lips curls as he looks me up and down.
“I’m out. I didn’t sign up for this.” The one with chains runs away.
His friend glances at him and at back at me. “Fuck. Me too.”
The other sprints after his buddy to a van parked across the street. Apparently, it’s every man for himself.
And that’s when I decide I’ve had just about enough.
“Your friends left,” I croak under his hand.
The setting sun burns my eyes and I can’t think with his hand at my throat or his disgusting scent invading my senses. I need to breathe. I close my eyes, invoking as much serenity as I can. Nathaniel has shown me that I have the control. I pull from the ultimate power.
The sun.
The power behind everything.
My instincts take over then.
At the same time, I feel the sun on my skin. I sense it reflecting all around me, intensified by the reflection off the windows bouncing it back hotter, stronger. I take it all, pulling it into my body like a vortex. The not-so-big man staggers back but doesn’t let go when I open my eyes. He must see something scary.
Good.
The world goes white as I feel the energy coming into me. I have the power here.
“What the fuck?” he says.
I focus only on the hand at my throat. I take the sunshine filling me and direct there; the rest overflows and fills the well inside me. I take every drop I can find.
Then I bring my focus to the man who holds my throat. I smile for him, just as he asked.
“Is that good?” I ask as his hold slackens. Lucky for me, his mask is still up, unable to protect him when I release the first flash.
He yells and drops me to protect himself, scrambling to get the mask down.
It feels so good. I blast him again. I didn’t mean to go so big. The stress of the situation is unlike anything we practiced. I can’t control it like I can with Nathaniel. Another wave pulsates from me like the sonic boom of an aircraft. I can see the shockwave of it detonate around me.
In front of me, Camo Shirt drops to his knees. He never stood a chance. For good measure I put my hand around his throat.
“Weak, pathetic man,” I say.
The unadulterated hatred pouring out of his eyes tells me he regrets nothing. He will go to his grave thinking he is on the side of right.
“Does it feel good to hurt those who can’t defend themselves?” I squeeze harder and tsk. I focus all the power flowing through me into that squeeze. The flow of energy feels too good. Like I’m unleashing something that has wanted to be free my whole life. Years of anger and hurt flow through me.
His eyes widen for a second and then he tries again to speak but his muscles have seized up in electric shock. I could easily kill this man. The realization hits me so clearly. But I’m not that person. I’m not the monster here.
“You aren’t worthy of any of my energy,” I say.
I release him and his body slumps to the ground.
He coughs and rubs at his throat. The skin is angry and red.
“Lucky for you, I’m giving you a chance to leave,” I say. “Next time I won’t.”
He glares daggers at me. He hates this power I have. Hates how small I make him feel.
“Freak,” he spits.
I tilt my head to the side. I allow myself to glow even brighter, stronger. It feels nice to give in to the anger. The power thrumming just under my skin has always felt like a curse, but now it feels like I’m unstoppable.
He flinches and stumbles back to crawl away.
“I’m trying very hard to be the bigger person here.” I step toward him. “You have three seconds to go back to whatever rock you crawled out from under. If I ever see you again, I will not show this level of mercy.”
He glares. “You aren’t scary.”
I jump at him and he flinches back. Maybe I’m a little drunk on power, but I’ve never been on this side of things before.
And he started it.
“One …” I say. He glances quickly to where the van was.
“Two …”
“Bitch!” He swears at me but then makes a break for it. He sprints down the street, running awkwardly in his leather apron and metal mask. My back is ramrod straight until he turns the corner.
I deflate back against my door. My whole body shakes. I didn’t know I had that in me. I’m not sure how I feel about any of it.
How could they be so bold? I glance again to the Davies’ garden.
All the ego I’d been feeling a moment ago deflates in an instant. Their garden is ruined. The half nearest to me looks like it was blasted with hurricane winds. Her tomato trellises are snapped in two. Sunflowers uprooted. Leaves that were lush and green are now brown and withered.
For every action …
It breaks my heart. All the hours she spends nursing her garden to life. I have no way to make it right. How could I be so controlled around Nathaniel only to become a landmine on my own?
I run into the house to check on Ginger. I let out a sigh of relief when I find him totally fine.
He’s okay.
But I
’m not.
This is the cost of my powers. Maybe Grandma Sue understood this all along. Somebody would find out. It wasn’t just that others wouldn’t be safe, it was that I may never be safe.
27
Nathaniel
With my head in my hands, I stare at the hospital waiting room floor. Julia appears in front of me, crouching to rub my knees.
“Hey,” she says softly. “How is he?” She presses her hand to my cheek and I lean into her palm.
“He’s gone,” I say.
She falls back, pale. “What?”
I belatedly realize my phrasing. “Shit. I mean, he’s okay. My dad came and took him home.”
She’s clutched a hand to her chest, breathing in relief. Then concern furrows her brow. “Your dad took him home?”
“I tried to stop him. I have no power. He’s his legal guardian.” Rage made my quiet voice quake.
“But he did that to Lincoln. He did that.” Her nostrils flare. A little white light flickers in the back of her eyes before she lets out a slow breath.
My chin is trembling so hard I bite into my bottom lip. “He told them he got hurt in his kickboxing class. That it happens all the time.”
“No.” She sinks into the chair next to mine, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. She’s shaking too. Or I’m shaking her. “There’s no way they bought that.”
“They didn’t. The doctor tried to keep him overnight. He has a couple cracked ribs but is otherwise fine. Except for looking like he was beaten to a pulp.”
“How could they let him take Lincoln? I can’t believe it.” Her voice is soft with the same hopelessness I have been wallowing in for an hour.
“He owns this whole town. He has a wing here at this hospital. You could see the staff didn’t believe him. They were scared though. This is what he does. He always wins.”
“No. I refuse to believe that. There has to be something we can do to take Lincoln.”
I watch her closely to make sure she doesn’t start to glow. But her color is weird. Like she’s fighting herself.
“He’s very convincing. He makes it seem like Lincoln does this to himself by looking for trouble.”
She runs her hands through her hair and twists it into a bun before letting the curls drop again. Her hands are shaking so hard it alarms me. She’s wired and jumpy.
“I can’t help but feel like he’s losing control. He’s never hurt Lincoln this bad two times so close together. He sent me a threatening email. It’s like he’s freaking out about something. I can’t explain it.”
This was his pattern growing up. Any time work got too stressful or a woman turned him down—anytime he felt out of control—he’d find his power in hurting me. And now I see the same pattern with Lincoln.
“We won’t let him get away with this.” She grabs my hands and squeezes. “Whatever it takes, I’ll help you, okay? We’ll get Lincoln.”
“We?” I ask.
“I mean, for me, there’s only ‘we’ now.”
I grab her face and kiss her deeply. “Definitely a ‘we’ from here on out. I love you.”
She blushes beautifully. “I love you too.”
I pull her close to hug and kiss her head. At least I have this. I finally have Julia. No doubts. She loves me and I love her. And it will be okay. We will be okay. I hold her tighter and sigh into her hair. Her body collapses into me like she’s been holding it all in. She shudders out and I feel the heat of wet tears through my shirt.
I pull her back to see her face. “Hey, what’s wrong? What is it?”
This is more than Lincoln. She looks scared.
“I have to ask you something.”
I sit up straighter. “Okay.”
“Can I stay with you tonight? And maybe for a little while. I don’t mean to freak you out or anything—”
“Julia.” I squeeze her shoulders. “As far as I’m concerned we should spend every night together from here on out. Not to freak you out.”
She lets out a breath, shaking her head but smiling at the ground.
“Did something happen?” I ask.
“Yes.” She swallows and on one long breath explains. “After I left your place I went back to my house to feed Ginger. Three men were waiting for me. They had weapons. They were there to take me. I think.”
I listen as a new rage grows in me.
“Are you okay?” I search her face and body for signs of pain, interrupting her story. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“I’m fine. A little shaken up but okay. They hardly touched me. And you’ve been through enough today.”
“I can’t believe it. What did the police say?”
She frowns and looks away. “I didn’t go to the police.”
“Why? Go to them now. While you can remember all the details.” I’m standing up, tugging her to her feet.
A few visitors head for the nearby elevator, laughing and carrying baby balloons. She grabs my wrist and drags me to an empty hallway around the corner.
“Trust me, I won’t forget what he looks like. It was the guy from the other day at Quickstop. He came by with two buddies.”
A numbing sensation spread through me. Another person I love was attacked by a coward and I wasn’t there to protect them.
“Perfect. So we will go now and tell them everything,” I say, starting to drag her away.
“Wait. There’s more. I defended myself.”
“You did?”
“They weren’t able to hurt me. I-I actually think I hurt him much worse than he could have ever hurt me.”
I smile. “Atta girl.”
She hesitates. “I got a little out of control.” She shakes her head with a frown. “Things just happened so fast and I felt … powerful. But then I sort of let it go to my head and I lost control.”
“That will be harder to explain.” I still try to convince her to tell someone but she’s hesitant.
“There’s something else. They wore protection, like welding masks. Like they knew about my powers.”
“Maybe the guy from the Quickstop warned them about you? From last time?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. They mentioned another guy. They mentioned that they were just supposed to take me. I can’t remember exactly. But they definitely weren’t there for themselves.”
I slump back against the wall.
“There’s no chance you …” She shakes her head. “There’s no chance Lincoln would have told anybody about me?” I can see she hates even asking.
“No,” I answer immediately. “There’s no way. I trust him completely.”
She sighs. “I do too. I trust you both. But then …” She looks up and I’m already there with her.
Julia eyes reflect the panic in my own chest.
I say what we both already know. “Somebody else knows.”
* * *
Julia spends Sunday night at my house, and neither of us sleep. And not in a good way. We’re both too worried. I feel her staring up at the ceiling next to me.
Around two a.m. she addresses the elephant in the room. “What’re we going to do?”
I let out a long sigh. “About Lincoln? Or my dad running this town?”
“Or that someone knows about my superpowers.”
I don’t comment on the fact that she just referred to her abilities as a positive for the first time since I’ve known her. “Or the busted lab equipment? Or that the team is despondent and Ken wants to cancel the project?”
“Or that I’m being hunted,” she adds.
“It’s not looking great, is it?”
The stress of our ridiculous situation boils over. We both start to laugh. I squeeze her tighter to me and she closes her eyes against my chest. Our laughter quickly fades into heavy silence again.
Maybe I’m naive. Or maybe I’ve just wanted something like this for so long, but with her in my arms it feels like we can handle anything. Nothing can be that bad so long as we’re together.
&n
bsp; “Carry on, I guess, until we have more data,” I finally say.
“And no more visits to the lab. If someone is watching us, we need to be extra careful.”
“Agreed,” I say. I find her hand on the blanket and squeeze it.
“And what about us?” she asks.
“Maybe tell the team? Come clean. Plenty of adults work together and date. It’s better to just put everything out there.”
“Well, not everything. I’m not ready to share my powers,” she says. “Oh, speaking of. This may seem random, but in the spirit of full disclosure, I meant to tell you the other day. Ken ran into me outside the testing room. He made some weird, quasi-sexist remarks.”
“Really?” I sit up feeling defensive on her behalf.
“Yeah. I mean, I’ve heard worse over the years. I wasn’t surprised. The first time I ever saw him he was talking to William. Your dad. They were saying nasty things about you and your team.”
I stiffen. “I’m not surprised. My dad has never believed in me. It irks him that I have made it this far. And forget about the team. He’ll never approve of anybody that is loyal to me. He will tell anyone who will listen that I’m not gonna make it. Ken is loyal to wherever the money is.”
“That’s what I figured. I’m sorry, but your dad is the worst.” She lowers her head to cuddle back into me.
“I agree. And I’m sorry Ken said those things to you. I’d love to punch that guy in the face.”
“Me too,” she says. “But the team is good. Really good. They don’t deserve that hate.” She yawns deeply.
I hesitate, mulling it over. “Yeah, I don’t like keeping things from them. The team will be happy for us.”
But even as I say it, I worry it’s a lie. I don’t tell her that they already inferred a relationship. I don’t share the conversation I had with Jared. I recall his questioning face as he discovered the broken lab equipment. They don’t know Julia as well as I do. What if they wonder if I’m not thinking clearly? What if they don’t trust her like I do? I don’t like that my father was talking to Ken. Just another worry to add to the stack.
“Okay, that sounds good.” She leans up to kiss my cheek. “Everything will be okay.”
The Untouched: THE UNSEEN SERIES, #2 Page 22
