Keep You From Harm (18 page)

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Authors: Debra Doxer

BOOK: Keep You From Harm
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“Jesus,” Lucas mutters. “Let’s get you back inside the truck.” His arm shifts around my back and the other winds beneath my knees. I feel him lifting me up, and I want to protest but I can’t form the words. Somehow, he gets the driver’s side door open and places me inside, following behind me. As I’m sitting myself up on the seat, he reaches in back for the blanket, unfolds it, and wraps it around my shoulders. Then he cranks the heat to its highest setting before pushing his hands through the wet hair hanging down into his eyes.

“What’s Kyle going to think when I bring you back like this?” Lucas says, his lips twisting up into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “This is not going to get me into his good graces.”

He’s trying to lighten the mood, and I can’t help but appreciate his efforts despite their failure. “My grandmother is catatonic now,” I tell him quietly. “Completely out of it. I’m so sorry for what she did.”

“You don’t need to be sorry for her. I mean it, Ray. Don’t do that to yourself.”

I pull the blanket more tightly around my shoulders, appreciating his words even if I can’t do what he’s saying.

“Can everyone in your family heal?” he asks.

My shivering eases as the dry blanket and the warm heat begin to work on me. “I don’t know. I already told you about my mother. As for the rest, I haven’t mentioned it and neither have they.”

“Do you know why you’re like this? Where this power comes from?”

I smile sadly. “I don’t know very much about it, Lucas.”

He reaches out and takes my hand from under the blanket. “Don’t you want to know?” he asks.

“Yes…and no.” I glance down at my hand inside his. “I touched my grandmother when I visited her. I took away her senility, and I talked to her.”

His eyes widen with interest.

“When I realized what she was, what she wanted from me, I gave it back to her.”

He furrows his brow at me. “What do you mean?”

“She wanted to go back into business, healing for money with me by her side. She said if I didn’t agree, she would expose me and my abilities. So, somehow, I stopped the healing energy that was running between us, and I pushed her own energy back at her. I’ve never done that before.” I tilt my head at him. “Just like I’ve never had a vision when I healed before. Not until today when I healed you.”

Lucas releases my hand. “A vision?” he asks.

I nod. “I saw how your arm got broken. I saw your mother with the bat.”

His lips narrow into a straight line. “You what?”

I’m slightly relieved by his angry reaction. I was afraid he’d seen it, too, and I would hate to have made him relive that with me. “Has she ever done anything like that before? She can’t be allowed to hurt you. Is she getting any help at all?”

He moves away from me. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but…”

“Lucas, don’t,” I plead. “I’m being completely honest with you. I’ve never spoken about my abilities this way to anyone before. Please be honest with me, too.”

He closes his eyes. Then he rubs his hand through his hair again and nods slowly, as though he’s resigning himself to the fact that I know his secret. “The new nurse my dad hired screwed up. She mixed up the medication. That’s why it happened. But it’s fine now.” He runs his hand along his now healed forearm. The tone of his voice tells me it’s not fine despite his words. “Visions?” he whispers like he can’t quite believe that little wrinkle. “You saw her do it?”

I nod.

“And that’s never happened before?”

“No. Never.”

“Did your grandmother say anything else?” he asks.

I pull my chilled arm back under the blanket. “She told me that my mom met my father here and not in San Diego like I thought. She said that he could heal, too.” I shake my head. “I don’t even know if the person who lived with us when I was a kid, the person she told me was my father, really was or not.”

“What about Rob Jarvis? Did you find anything out about him?”

I shrug. “I don’t know anything definitive, but I’m guessing someone in my family met him at the nursing home and hired him to find us. I know Kyle had been trying to get custody of me for a couple of years. It makes sense that he might send someone to watch us, to maybe get some evidence of my mother’s lack of parenting skills.”

“We could track him down,” he suggests. “Ask him to tell us what he was doing there.”

A few minutes ago, I was completely alone, and now the words
we
and
us
are slipping out of Lucas’s mouth like it’s a normal everyday thing. I feel a sense of relief flood through me. “Okay,” I reply. “I’d like to talk to him.”

“Can I ask you another question?”

His hesitant tone gives me pause. “It seems there isn’t much I won’t answer tonight.”

He leans in closer. “Why did you do it? Why did you heal me despite what your mother told you and knowing that you’d be revealing yourself to me?”

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, trying to form my answer. His eyes drift down to my lips, making me very aware of them as I try to explain. “This energy builds inside me when people are hurting. I have this deep need to help. I can’t watch you in pain and not want to take it away for you.”

Something in the way he’s looking at me changes, and I recognize the building heat in his eyes. I recall the taste of him and the feel of him, and I also remember the cold shoulder he gave me afterwards. I can feel myself hesitate. If I give into him, and he turns his back on me again, it will devastate me. I can’t lose this closeness we’ve reestablished tonight. Being friends is safer, and it’s better than nothing.

I break eye contact to look at the glowing numbers on his dashboard clock. “It’s getting late. I told Kyle we wouldn’t be gone long. We should probably head back.”

He blinks his eyes, and the heat in them flares once more before fading into something that resembles disappointment. But he quickly shutters his feelings. The feigned indifference he wears like a mask is back in place, and I’m beginning to understand what’s beneath it. Right now, it appears to be regret.

“You’re not going to tell anyone about me, right?” I ask, needing to make that clear.

He shoots me an annoyed look. “Of course not.” He grips the steering wheel and turns the key. “So, when I get you home, how are you going explain the fact that you’re soaking wet?” he asks as he backs the truck down off the bridge. “And is there anything you can tell Kyle that won’t make me look like a dumbass?”

“I’ll say that we went for a walk and got caught in the rain.”

He raises his brows at me. “I guess that’s a no.”

When we arrive back at the house, Lucas wants to walk me to the door, but I convince him to stay in the truck as I dash through the raindrops. Kyle and Chloe are sitting in the kitchen when I poke my head in to say goodnight. Their eyes widen as they take in my appearance. “We got caught in the rain,” I say with a shrug because there really is no better excuse, and then I head downstairs to change. I hear them talking to each other as I descend the stairs and I’m pretty sure I hear Lucas’s name, but I don’t stay to eavesdrop. I continue down, anxious to slip out of my wet clothes.

I have a hard time falling asleep that night as my thoughts continue to tumble through me. I reluctantly recall the feeling I had laying here after being with Lucas that night in the bleachers. I was so sure we were starting something that was going to be amazing. But then he freaked out on me. He decided to end us without consulting me. I understand why he did it, and I know he regrets it, but as much as I’d like to regain that thrilling feeling of jumping into something with him, it’s going to take time to trust him again.

I think about those goodnight texts I got from him when we first admitted our feelings for each other, and I reach for my phone. There are no texts tonight. But why would there be? He tried to open that door again, and I basically slammed it in his face. But I can’t help the disappointment I feel when I allow myself to scroll through the those early texts, thinking I should delete them, but knowing that I never will.

T
he
next day at school, I turn the corner on my way to class when I see Lucas and Sophie standing by his open locker. There’s only a trickle of students left in the hallway, and Sophie’s voice carries easily to me. Rather than walking past them, I find myself ducking back around the corner, waiting for them to leave. But they don’t leave. They continue their conversation.

“Are you going with someone else?” she asks him, but it sounds more like an accusation.

“I’m not going with anyone right now,” he replies, sounding much calmer than her. I feel a bite of annoyance at how unflappable Lucas usually is.

“Then why won’t you go with me?” Sophie states with disbelief. “I’ve talked about the senior prom with you all year. The plan was always to go together. We can just go as friends if you want. We used to be good friends, Lucas.” Her voice softens.

“I know, Soph. That doesn’t have to change, but other things do.”

She harrumphs loudly. “It’s because of that new girl, Rachel, or whatever her name is.”

“Her name is Raielle,” he corrects her, and my pulse kicks up, waiting for Sophie to begin badmouthing me.

“You’re making a fool of yourself over her. You know that, right? She’s not interested in you.”

“And how do you know who she’s interested in?” Lucas tosses back. “Last I heard, you two aren’t exactly BFFs.”

Sophie laughs, but she doesn’t sound amused. “If you’re planning on asking her to the prom, you’re too late. She’s already going with Chad.”

My mouth drops open, and I only hear silence from the hallway. Then Lucas finally responds. “Who told you that?” he asks, his cool slipping slightly now. I inch closer to the edge of the wall, wanting to hear the answer to this myself since it’s news to me.

“It’s all over school, Lucas. Everyone knows,” she states smugly.

“You’re telling me he asked her and she said yes?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. She’s already got a date. Wouldn’t you like to go with me? You know we’ll have fun.” Sophie practically purrs the last sentence. “Lucas, come on.” There’s a beat of silence, and I have a terrible feeling that she’s touching him now. “It’s our senior year,” she continues coaxing him. “I don’t want to go with anyone else. It’s always been you and me. We were friends first. Good friends. Can’t we be that again?”

After a long silence that has me clenching my jaw, he replies. “Fine, we’ll go,” he bites out.

My hands curl into fists.

Sophie does seem put off by his less than enthusiastic agreement. “Of course we will. That’s how it’s supposed to be,” she says with satisfaction. “We can share a limo with Kellie and Jake. I’ll get the tickets today. We’re going to have so much fun.” She sounds giddy.

“I’ve got to get to class,” Lucas states. Then I hear his footsteps echo down the hallway. A moment later, I hear Sophie’s heals clicking away in the other direction.

I hug my books to my chest as my throat tightens. Sophie lied to manipulate Lucas into taking her to the prom, and it worked. He believed that I would say yes if Chad asked me to the prom. I have no right to be angry with him. I know that. I gave him no encouragement last night. What did I expect? But I know the answer to that. I’m an idiot because I expected him to keep trying, and I expected myself to eventually begin to trust him and give in. What I failed to remember is that Lucas doesn’t need to keep trying to win me when he has so many other options, and at least one of those options is willing to play dirty.

When I arrive in class, I get a tight smile from Lucas as I sit down beside him. If I hadn’t overheard his conversation, I’d probably be torturing myself, wondering why he seems so standoffish again this morning. We walk together between classes, and I make a conscious decision to just be normal around him, and not to mope or inform Lucas that I’m
not
going to the prom with Chad.

“I was thinking,” I begin before we reach history, still working hard at the normalcy thing. “You’ve given me an opening to ask Kyle about my grandmother’s healing business. If I want to find out what he knows, I can now say that you told me what my grandmother used to do and then see how he responds. Before, I couldn’t mention it without giving away the fact that my grandmother told me herself.”

Lucas halts me with a hand on my arm. My skin warms where he touches it. When his eyes meet mine, my reaction to him is immediate, and I’m hoping my face isn’t as flushed as it feels. My hopes are dashed when his nostrils flare in response. He clears his throat and removes his hand. “I think we should talk to Jarvis before you do that.”

It takes a moment for his words to register. “Why?”

“If Kyle hired him, we should find that out first.”

I tilt my head at the worry on his face.

Students file by us, going to class, and Lucas waits for them to pass. “Let’s talk about this later, okay?”

I reluctantly agree, and we head inside. I spend class thinking about what Lucas said. He’s worried about my talking to Kyle. But what are his suspicions where Kyle is concerned? If Kyle already knows what I can do, does he think Kyle wants me to pick up my grandmother’s business where she left off? Is he afraid of Kyle trying to use me in some way or expose me? Before I realize it, the bell rings, and I’ve just spent the entire class inside my head.

After class, Lucas is all business. “Tell Chad you want to watch his band practice. When you find out when and where the practice is, tell him you’ll meet him there, and I’ll go with you. We’ll talk to Jarvis then.”

The last thing I want to do is ask Chad to see his band practice and give him the wrong idea. Of course, Lucas doesn’t know that I don’t talk to Chad on a regular basis. But I agree to it because it’s a good idea, and a part of me is mad at him for agreeing to go to the prom with Sophie.

As we approach my locker, I see Gwen standing there waiting for me. Lucas gives me what looks like a sarcastic salute, and then he nods at Gwen as he continues down the hall.

“What happened to his cast? I thought he broke his arm,” Gwen says.

“I guess not,” I mumble.

“So, are you guys on again?” she asks. “I can’t keep track.”

“No, we’re friends, I think.” I turn away from the mesmerizing view of his retreating backside and open my locker.

“Uh-huh,” she says skeptically. Then she punches me lightly on the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me Chad asked you to the prom?”

“Because he didn’t.” I roll my eyes as I toss my books in and slam my locker door closed.

“He didn’t?” Her brow creases. “But Sharon told me he did.”

I turn to face her. “Who the heck is Sharon?”

“You don’t know Sharon? She’s a senior. She works in the office with me. She heard it from Hailey.”

I reach inside my bag, trying to locate my lunch. “Hurricane Hailey? Did she start this rumor?”

“I don’t know. She’s friends with Sophie and Kellie. So, it’s possible, I guess. It’s just a rumor then?” She seems disappointed.

I shake my head, and I can’t help my amused smile. “What a tangled web I weave.”

“So, if he didn’t ask you, why is everyone saying he did?”

“I thought Sophie started the rumor because she wanted to go to the prom with Lucas, but Lucas didn’t want to go with her. At least that was the case until she told him I was going with Chad.”

A smile lights up Gwen’s face. “Lucas wanted to take you to the prom?”

I sigh. “You’re missing the point here. Lucas is taking Sophie to the prom.”

“Not when you tell him that she’s a bitch who lied to him. Then he’ll want to take you,” she says simply.

I take a deep breath and release it slowly. “But if she wasn’t involved in starting the rumor, then she didn’t lie.” I shake my head. “Anyway, I don’t want any part of this. It’s too much drama for me.”

She reaches an arm out to me. “You want to go with him, don’t you?”

“I told you. I’m not into dances,” I answer, while inside my head I’m yelling,
of course I want to go with him
! But the reality is, this is not something I ever pictured myself doing. Going to my prom with a boy I’m completely crushing on, who’s crushing on me right back. That’s not my life. That was never meant to be me.

She purses her lips at me like a disappointed school teacher. “You’re all kinds of messed up, Raielle.”

I roll my eyes yet again. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I don’t blame you for having cold feet after the way he treated you. But don’t let your pride stand in your way if he grovels enough and wants another chance.”

I snort out a laugh and shake my head.

“What?” she asks.

“He didn’t grovel, exactly. But he did already apologize, and I think he’s still interested.”

“Then what the hell are you waiting for? Go talk to him,” she says, her tone serious now.

I glance down at the floor, knowing I don’t have the guts to do that. “I’ll think about it.”

“Hopeless.” She points her finger at me.

“What’s hopeless?” Myles asks, appearing beside Gwen. I subtly shake my head at her, my eyes pleading for her to keep quiet.

“You,” she states, looking him over. “What were you thinking when you paired that shirt with those pants this morning?”

With that, I expel the breath I’d been holding. I really don’t need more voices being added to the ‘G
ive Lucas another chance’
chorus.

Myles eyes me with concern, and I wonder if Lucas told him what’s going on with us or if he’s heard the prom rumors, too. Knowing I’m probably in for more coercion at the lunch table, I decide now is a good time to talk to Chad.

“Do you guys know where Chad eats lunch?” I ask since I never see him in the caf.

Their reaction to my question is comical. Gwen narrows her eyes at me while Myles’s eyebrows shoot straight up. “Why do you want to know that?” he asks.

“I need to talk to him.”

“It’s true then? About the prom,” he says, with obvious disapproval.

“It’s not true,” Gwen tells him for me. “I don’t see how talking to him solves anything, but he sits behind building A. There are some picnic tables back there.”

“Thanks.” I avoid eye contact with Myles as I waste no time heading in that direction.

Despite the calendar indicating that it’s spring, there’s an icy chill to the day, and I wish I’d worn my coat. New York can’t seem to decide what season it wants to participate in. I shake my head at the weather here, missing Southern California’s mild climate more than usual.

I easily spot a row of picnic tables that have seen better days sitting in the shade of building A. This is obviously where the students who think black is a primary color like to eat. I easily spot Chad’s bald head at the most crowded table. He’s surrounded by girls, groupies it looks like, gushing over him. One of them spots me and scowls as she warns the rest of the group of my approach.

Chad’s head immediately pops up, and he stands. When I reach the table, I ignore the dirty looks I’m getting and keep my eyes on him. “Can we talk for a minute?” I ask.

He nods. “Over there.” He lifts his chin toward the empty table at the end of the row.

Once we’re settled across from each other, he says, “So, I heard that I’m taking you to the prom.” He smiles with amusement.

“I heard that, too.”

He rests his arms on the table. “Did you start that rumor so I’d ask you?”

I work hard not to glare at him. “No, Chad. I didn’t. I thought maybe you did.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “The prom isn’t really my thing. But we could still hang out.”

My hand is on the table in front of me, and I realize he’s sliding his fingers toward mine. I immediately pull my hand back and watch as he changes from smug to curious. I make myself smile, wondering what the heck I’m doing here. “The prom is no big deal for me either,” I say and watch his eyes travel down to my chest where they stall rudely.

My jaw tightens, and I cross my arms in front of me. “But I really love your music.” I plaster my slipping grin back on. “I was wondering if I could watch your band practice some time?”

He rubs a hand over his scruffy chin and shrugs carelessly. “Sure, the fans come to our practices all the time. We meet over at Desmond’s house on Thursday nights.”

“That’s tonight,” I say, pretending to know who Desmond is.

He nods. Then he squints at me. “Damn, you’re frozen over there. Take my jacket.”

To my utter surprise, he stands, pulls off his leather jacket and brings it around to me. “No, it’s okay,” I protest. But he places it on my shoulders and sits down on the bench beside me. “Go on. Put your arms through.”

I do it because I’m so flabbergasted by his unexpected concern.

“Have you got a pen? I’ll write down the address for tonight.” His face is uncomfortably close to mine, and I don’t like the way his eyes are wandering down to my lips.

“I’ll just put it in my phone.” Then I unnecessarily inch away from him to extract my phone from my pocket. I punch in the address and the time he gives me. When I look up, I realize he’s moved closer again. From the corner of my eye, I see we have a rapt audience. “Um, Chad, I’m not really interested in getting into anything right now,” I say awkwardly, keeping my voice low. For some reason, I don’t want to embarrass him.

He chuckles. “That happens to be exactly what I’m interested in doing.”

I realize he’s leaning in to kiss me. “And also, I’m a lesbian,” I blurt out.

This makes him pause. “That’s hot,” he breathes.

I inch away again and realize my reluctance is finally registering with him.

“Seriously?” he asks, staring at me as though he doesn’t believe it.

I try not to cringe as I lie with a nod.

“No shit. I’ve never met a lesbian before. That’s cool.” He shrugs. “It makes sense.” Then he smiles slyly. “Bring your friends tonight. Okay?”

“Sure.” I shrug out of his jacket wondering why he thinks it makes sense. Then I realize he’s probably referring to the fact that I keep turning him down. What an egomaniac. And I am planning to bring a friend. It’s just not who he’s expecting. “So, I’ll see you later,” I say, standing and watching as his eyes rake over me.

“Yeah. Later,” he agrees on his way back to his table.

Once I’m a good distance away, I glance over my shoulder and notice his cronies leveling curious looks at me. I know exactly what he’s just told them. I laugh to myself. I’ve just added another rumor to the pile, and I wonder how long it’s going to take before this one gets back to me.

I’m scheduled to work tonight, but I call Scoops and ask Stacy if she’s knows of anyone who might want to switch days with me. Turns out, Jacinda is there, and she offers to stay through my shift if I take hers tomorrow. So, now I’m working Friday night, one of their busiest nights Jacinda tells me with barely suppressed glee now that I’ve taken her shift.

I send Lucas a text telling him when and where the practice is. He texts me back a few minutes later to let me know he’ll pick me up at eight.

At dinner that night, Kyle is not happy when I tell him that I’m going out with Lucas.

“It’s a school night,” he states. “And you just went out with him last night. I think this whole thing is moving too fast.”

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