Authors: Natalie Whipple
Blindsided (2 page)
I press the button and wait for him to answer.
“Hello?” The voice is not Miles, but familiar all the same. It still weirds me out that my brothers live together after so many years of fighting, but Graham didn’t exactly have a lot of places to go when he left Dad’s syndicate. Miles took him in with surprisingly little convincing by Mom, I think because he wanted to spare me the pain of living with Graham.
“Where’s Miles?” I ask.
“In the bathroom. You want me to hand him the phone?” I can almost picture Graham’s evil grin.
“Ew, no.”
He laughs. “What’s up? Miles seems to get all the calls—did you lose my number?”
I wince, not really wanting to talk to Graham. He tries to be nice and does his best to make up for all he did, but it’s still difficult. No matter how hard I try to forget, part of me is still scared of him. “No, I didn’t lose it.”
He sighs, and I think it sounds regretful. “Yeah, I figured.”
“Can you tell him to call me when he gets out?”
“Actually, we’re already running late. We have to pick up Allie before the movie, and she hates missing previews.”
“Ugh.” Allie is Graham’s girlfriend. It’s hard to accept that reality. Because seriously, who’d want to date an infamous syndicate lapdog? This Allie chick must have a hardcore bad boy complex, which is surprising because apparently she’s
really
smart. She’s twenty-one and already in a doctorate program for chemistry.
“Is it so hard to give me a message to pass on?”
Yes, yes it is.
Especially when it showcases my paranoia all too well. “It’s not really a message-type conversation. I’ll just call—”
“Is something wrong? Is Mom okay?”
To his credit, he really does sound worried. And he did put his life on the line to get us out of the syndicate before Dad turned me into his deadliest assassin. I should probably stop throwing up walls. Well,
some
walls, at least. “She’s fine, but there was a guy watching me at soccer practice…”
“What kind of guy?” There’s a pause. “Don’t tell me this is some kind of love triangle drama, because you can leave that to Miles.”
“No!” I bite back my annoyance. “He had tattoos, Graham. And The Pack says Juan’s guys come here to collect money from the gifted families every six months. Pretty sure he’s with them.”
He swears. There’s shuffling noises, as if he’s searching for something. “What’d he look like? I’ll look him up in the Registry.”
I roll my eyes. The government made up this Registry for people with “potentially dangerous abilities” ages ago, but it’s horribly inaccurate even if a person does show up in there. Under my name it claims I may or may not be able to possess other peoples’ bodies, which is ridiculous. “That thing is a joke, and I didn’t get a good look at him anyway.”
“Hmm…you can’t give me anything? I am pretty familiar with Juan’s guys—maybe I’ll recognize him.”
It isn’t likely. Juan’s syndicate is bigger than Dad’s, at least in numbers. When your henchmen are so recognizable, I guess there needs to be a lot more of them. The chance of Graham recognizing one guy on extortion duties in a tiny town like Madison is low. But I decide I’ll humor him anyway, otherwise he might come here and check for himself. “He was in the bleachers so I couldn’t see much more than his long black hair and big tattoos, but he seemed really skinny if that helps.”
“How skinny?” Graham asks rather seriously.
“Uh…I don’t know.”
“On the verge of starving to death? Or is he gangly like your boyfriend?”
“Hey!” Seth is perfect just the way he is. He has way more muscle than people give him credit for. “Don’t be a jerk or I’ll hang up.”
He sighs. “Well?”
I purse my lips, trying to remember the brief moment I saw him. “Maybe more on the starving to death side?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”
“Why?” My heart speeds up a bit. If Graham does recognize this guy, then he’s a lot worse than your average lackey.
“It’s just…Juan’s right-hand man fits that description. He can walk through walls, but if he eats it doesn’t work. So he starves himself as much as he can. If he pops some Radiasure he can even take other people through walls with him.” There’s a pause, and I fill it with my own worry. “No one knows much about him, not even his name. He just goes by The Phantom.”
I gulp, thinking about the way he disappeared. If it was this wall walker, he could have sunk through the bleachers to look like he was gone. “Way to freak me out, Graham.”
“Sorry, he’s just the first person I thought of! It probably isn’t him. He’d be on big missions—not somewhere like Madison.” I hear a voice in the background. “Hey, Miles is done so we gotta go. We’ll talk later, okay? Tell me if you find out more.”
“Sure. Bye.” I hang up, determined to only talk with Miles for the rest of my life. Instead of feeling comforted, I am more on edge than ever.
I rush for the shower, hoping that’ll distract me from my overactive imagination. But even with the warm water pounding my skin, I can’t shake the feeling I’m being watched. Even if that guy wasn’t a wall walker—maybe he jumped down or has super speed or I’m just blind—the
idea
that someone could enter any place they want is scary.
What if he walked right into my house? Is he standing on the other side of the shower curtain?
Okay, no more of that. Turning off the water, I dry myself and dress in minimal clothing. I’m invisible, so no matter where a wall walker went they still couldn’t see me. Graham probably wanted to freak me out. I wish he’d grow up and stop with the teasing.
A loud knock echoes through the quiet house, and all my attempts to calm myself are ruined. I’m not sure whether I should answer or not, but I creep down the hall and check the peephole anyway.
When I see who’s there, I let out a relieved sigh and unlock it. “Hey! What’s with the surprise visit?”
“You didn’t answer your phone. Figured you were in the shower since everyone was home from practice.” Bea steps in, looking worried. She runs both hands through her wild hair. “So my brothers told me and Brady about Juan’s guy. You okay?”
I purse my lips, not wanting to talk or think about him anymore. “I’m fine, but thanks for checking on me.”
“You’re welcome.” She plops on the couch. “I’m giving up precious boyfriend time to make sure my best friend is safe, you know.”
I laugh as I sit next to her. After Brady declared his love for Bea when she was under my dad’s control, they finally got together after being friends since childhood. Though Brady is still worried about hurting her with his overwhelming strength, Bea is slowly bringing him around. “I’m sorry—I know how hard it is to get alone time.”
Her lips stretch into a wide grin. “No kidding. Stupid brothers. They’re everywhere.”
“Has he kissed you yet?”
“I wish.” She leans her head back. “I’m trying to be patient, but if we could move past hand holding that’d be awesome.”
“He’s so paranoid.”
“Tell me about it. He hasn’t hurt me by accident since he was like eight, but still.”
I nod, feeling oddly sad the more we talk about this. Truth is, sometimes I get jealous of Bea and Brady. They might have the strength problem to deal with, but at least they’re both visible. I get this pang in my gut every time she asks me to take a picture of them together—I’ll never know what I look like next to Seth or anyone. “You want some ice cream? I need ice cream.”
“Sure.” She points at the blank TV. “And a movie.”
“Okay, twist my arm.” I hand her the remote and go to the kitchen. Bea likes the most chocolatey ice cream possible, so I pull out the brownie fudge and top it with more chocolate syrup.
Bea has already picked a romantic comedy from the DVR by the time I get back, and we settle in. Being constantly surrounded by guys, it’s nice when we can sneak in some girl time. If we try to watch these at her house, Carlos spends the whole movie cracking lame jokes. Plus Hector tells us how stupid and unrealistic the romances are.
Just when we get to a good make-out scene, I hear the garage door open. My brow creases as I check my phone’s clock. Mom isn’t supposed to be home for an hour, but the door slams and she yells, “Fiona? Are you here?”
“Yeah! Did you not see Sexy Blue outside?”
Mom practically falls into the room, panting and eyes wide. When she sees me, she looks a little less panicked. “Thank goodness.”
I’m not sure I want to ask, but I do anyway. “What’s wrong?”
“Juan’s men.” She puts her hand to her heart. “A whole group of them came into the bowling alley. I left the second I saw them.”
“Oh no.” I could write off one guy, but a whole squad? And both of us saw them less than a few hours apart. There’s no denying it now—he’s come for us.
Bea pauses the movie, seeming just as panicked as I feel. She grabs my hand and pulls me off the couch. “You guys should come to my house, just in case they show up here tonight.”
I pull back. “No way.”
“Why not?” Her voice has an edge to it, and I imagine I’m about to piss her off.
“Because the last time you guys helped me, you almost killed us with your voice, two people got shot, and your mother had to reveal things she shouldn’t have.” We haven’t spoken of Rosa’s healing ability since that day, but I’ll never forget how those wounds closed up right before my eyes. “It’s a miracle that I managed to keep you safe from my dad, Bea. I won’t put your family in the path of Juan, especially after all you’ve done to avoid him.”
“But—”
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Mom’s initial shock seems to have faded, morphing into determination. “Fiona’s right. This isn’t your fight, and it’s pointless to get you involved when resolving it could be as easy as striking a deal.”
Bea shakes her head. “But he usually never sends more than a couple guys! I don’t think money will work.”
“Don’t underestimate us.” Mom gives her a flat look as she opens the door telekinetically. “Do you honestly think this is the first time I’ve been in trouble? I wouldn’t forget who you’re dealing with.”
I can’t help but smile at my mother’s show of strength. It seems like the longer we’re free, the more confident she gets. I can finally see who she used to be before Dad controlled her. “You should go.”
Bea clenches her jaw. “Fine, but if you’re in a bind you better come to us for help.”
“We will.” I shuffle her towards the door. “Don’t tell Seth, okay? He’s already worried enough.”
She stops on the porch, hands on hips. “I won’t lie about your safety to him or anyone.”
“I’m not asking you to. Just don’t mention it if you don’t have to.” I sigh, feeling bad for pushing her away. The truth is, I
am
scared, and I want to let Seth and The Pack protect me. But I already brought them too close to syndicate life once—I swore to myself I wouldn’t do that again. “I’ll call you when I find out more. I promise.”
Her eyes narrow. “You better.”
“See ya!” I try to keep it light. I even watch her get back in Sexy Blue and drive away. But the second I close the door, the smile is gone. “How much money have you saved, Mom?”
She paces the living room, thinking. “Almost twenty thousand.”
My heart sinks. That’s chump change in syndicate money. There’s no way that would buy us more than a month. “I should have gotten a job.”
“No. I wanted you to enjoy life.” She stops at one of her long, thin pots that frame the television. When she’s not working, she spends most of her time telekinetically sculpting. “If only I could sell a few more big pieces like this. I’m just starting to get more orders, thanks to that showcase in Phoenix.”
I let out a long sigh. “Why is it so hard to make money honestly?”
She chuckles. “I don’t know, hon.”
Silence overcomes us as we stare at each other. Mom isn’t as afraid to look at me or touch me as she used to be, but it still feels like there’s a gap we can never breach. It’s because she can’t see my eyes—she can’t really understand what it means to be the way I am. Lately I hate that feeling. I want her to see me like Seth does. I’d even settle for telling her that Seth says I have her nose and eyes. But I can’t betray his secret.
Sometimes that really bothers me.
“So…” I say. “What if they don’t accept the money?”
Mom purses her lips, as if she was hoping I wouldn’t ask. “Fight our way out and head for Tucson to meet up with Graham and Miles?”
“That might be interesting. You take their weapons, I sneak up on them from behind.” I sit on the couch, oddly at ease with this conversation. “But Tucson is nowhere near outside of Juan’s territory.”
She sits next to me. “Well, if we go west we have Val to deal with.”
Valerie Sutton’s syndicate may not have a lot of territory, but Southern California still has a lot of media sway. The fact that she can read minds—literally see what people want—only helps her rake in money through every entertainment business possible. If you watch a movie, hear a song, see an ad, chances are Val has something to do with it.