Mindspeak (19 page)

When I popped a cherry tomato in my
mouth, he resumed. “Take the Children’s Gardens, for example. Providing an
environment for small children to learn the importance of life and taking care
of our land.”

Jack’s words continued to spill out.
He sat up and moved his hands as he spoke. A heaviness swarmed inside my chest
as I examined the curves and lines of his face.

I didn’t even notice when silence fell
around us. I was so lost in the sound of his voice and the rose-scented air. My
eyes drifted to his lips. He hadn’t tried to kiss me again since that night by
the pool. Would he tonight?

Jack cocked his head. “I would love
to hear what you’re thinking right now.” He smiled.

Every muscle from my cheeks to my
toes stiffened. I must have turned fifty shades of red before giving my head a
shake to free the cobwebs. “Sorry. I’m just amazed at your level of excitement.
You ever think about becoming a botanist?”

Jack moved the food containers that
sat between us off to the side and inched closer to me. “Yeah, actually. But
then I realized I can love all this,” he waved a hand through the air, “and
still become a doctor.”

He lay on his side again and reached
a hand to one of mine.

“Right.” I studied the look in his
eyes—a look that went way beyond that of a concerned brother. Or even a friend.
He tugged on my hand, and next thing I knew I was stretched out beside him,
facing him on the blanket.

“Is this okay?” he asked, our faces
inches apart. His breath warmed my face.

My stomach clenched. I nodded. He
leaned in slowly and touched his lips to mine, soft at first. When he pressed
harder, an electric sensation shot straight through my chest to my stomach.

His hand rested on the curve of my
waist, his fingers exploring just at the hem of my shirt as he continued to
kiss me.

Slowly his hand moved to the small
of my back and he brought me closer to him. I snaked my hand around his neck
and slid my fingers into his hair. My lips parted slightly, enough to allow him
complete access.

Moments later, he pulled his head
back just slightly and rested his forehead against mine. “I’ve wanted to do
that every day since the night by my parents’ pool.”

I breathed hard. I didn’t know what
to say. Luckily, I didn’t have to say anything because my phone rang.

I sat up and pulled my phone out of
my purse. “I don’t recognize the number.”

“Answer it,” Jack said, and I
shrugged.

“Hello?”

“Did you have a nice visit with my
mom today?”

“Who is this?”
Seth
. The
frightened tone in my voice had Jack sitting up and on full alert.

“Who is it?” He stuck out his hand
for the phone.

The voice on the other end of the
phone said, “I’m just a concerned friend, Sarah. Someone who doesn’t want you to
end up like your father. Have you found the journals?”

My hand shook. I dropped the phone
on the blanket in front of me.

Jack picked up the phone. “Who is
this?” He shook his head. “They hung up. What did they say?”

“He called me Sarah. Told me he
didn’t want to see me end up like my father.” My voice came out shaky. “How did
I get thrown in the middle of all this? I don’t understand any of it.”

Jack grabbed my hand. “Come here.”
He pulled me into his chest and hugged me there, smoothing my hair behind me. “Who
calls you Sarah?”

“Dad and Gram are the only two who
have ever called me that. I’ve been Lexi since I entered kindergarten. And Lexi
Matthews since I started at Wellington.”

“It’s going to be okay. No one is
going to hurt you.”

“Can I get that in writing?” I
laughed uneasily.

He bent his neck, buried his face
in my hair. “I promise to do everything I can to keep you safe.”

“I know who it was that called.”

Jack pushed me back a little. “Who?”

I scooted further away from him so
I could breathe and think. Did I really want to tell him about Seth Whitmeyer
when Jack had been so reluctant to tell me about Sandra? I thought of Seth’s
warning the day my father died—the warning that Jack was not who I thought he
was, not someone I could trust.

“Who was it, Lexi?” His tone had an
edge to it.

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

“I guess I deserve that.”

“I’ll tell you how I know that Seth
Whitmeyer was on the other end of that phone call, if you tell me now what you
know about Sandra.”

Chapter
Sixteen

“How can you know about Seth
Whitmeyer, and not know about Sandra?”

My expression must have faltered,
because Jack was quick to continue.

“Oh, I get it. You don’t really
know who Seth is either.” He pushed himself up off the blanket. He began
putting things away inside a basket and folding the blanket. “No deal.” He
stopped what he was doing and walked over to me. He reached out with both hands
and pushed hair behind my ears. “We’re going to have this date. You’re going to
forget about the Whitmeyers, death, The Program, and those missing journals. If
only for an evening. We’ll deal with the Whitmeyers later.”

“This is still all a game to you,
isn’t it? This is my life, Jack.”

A severe look passed briefly
through his eyes. “Not a game. Very serious, but I’ve been living with some of
this medical craziness a little longer than you, and I refuse to stop enjoying
life while hoping all the secrets work themselves out. Because, let me be the
first to tell you, as soon as one secret is revealed in our world, another
secret peeks out from around the next dark corner.” Jack stood close. His
breath touched my lips. “I would never choose this life for you. But no matter
what we learn through all of this, you are a human being with a purpose. I told
you I would find more information about Sandra. And I did. But now that I know
more…”

I intertwined my fingers with his. “You
don’t like what you discovered.”

Jack squeezed his eyes closed. When
he reopened them, I recognized a certain fear in them. “Yes. I uncovered
something. And no, I didn’t like it. But telling you about Sandra is telling
you everything. Once you know, you will have a choice to make. And one of the
choices available to you will be whether to walk away.”

“Walk away?”

“And I wouldn’t blame you. I want
to on a regular basis. If you decide you want no part of this life, I will help
you. Encourage you to do it, actually. New name, passport, money, everything
you would need to start fresh somewhere else.”

His words were a punch to my gut. “What
are you talking about? You’re scaring me.” How could I possibly walk away from
everything familiar to me? From Wellington. My friends. From Gram. I turned
away from him, suddenly overcome with emotion.

“I’m sorry. It can’t be helped.” He
stood behind me, his chest to my back. His arms circled around me and held me
close. “I know you are strong enough to handle this. You have to be.”

So much of what was happening
started the day Jack entered my life. What if walking away from him would bring
sanity and safety back? But what if walking away meant I never solved the
mystery of who killed Dad or who was after his journals? What if it meant
saying good-bye to Jack forever? Possibly the only person in this world who had
the potential to understand me and my ability?

I twisted in his arms and faced him
again. I peered into his intense eyes, each one a Category Three hurricane. “Would
you do that? Let me just walk away?” Was I hoping he would?

The sadness that swirled in his
eyes made my insides constrict.

He brushed the back of his hand
down my cheek. “You said you hoped we could find a level of trust for each
other while on this date. Do you trust me?”

I continued to study the intense
look in his eyes. I knew I could demand that he tell me what he had learned
right then, and he would. “I trust you.”

He brushed his lips across mine,
and then hugged me tightly. “I’ll tell you everything I can, but I was hoping
to make one more stop on our date first.” He pulled back. A smile had replaced
his serious look.

“Okay.” I tried to smile in return.

~~~~

“You brought me to a bar? Am I even
allowed in here?”

“Yes. But you’re not allowed to
drink alcohol.” He shot me a sideways grin as he held the door open, allowing
me to pass in front of him.

The lighting was dim, so I looked
around just inside the door until my eyes adjusted. A band warmed up on a stage
at the other side of a large room.

Jack’s warm fingers wrapped around
my hand. He wove through the crowd and led me over to a table of people.

“Jack, hey!” a guy yelled as we
approached. Dark brown, unkempt hair flanked his forehead, tattoos decorated
his left arm.

“Hey, Jonas,” Jack said.

A tall African-American girl with
long, chemically-straightened hair squeezed behind us and slid into the booth.
Dark eyeliner outlined her eyes, and a thick streak of glittery purple
decorated her lids.

“Guys, this is Lexi. Lexi, meet
Jonas, Georgia and over there is Fred.”

Fred must have borrowed eyeliner
from Georgia. His deep set, darkly decorated eyes matched his black hair, and both
contrasted starkly with his fair skin. Underneath the makeup existed what I was
sure was a good-looking guy near the same age as Jack and me.

I waved or nodded at each of them. “Nice
to meet you.”

Georgia gave me the once over all
the way down my skinny jeans to my sandals before scooting over and making room
for me.

I sat. Jack leaned in to my ear. “Want
a bottle of water?”

I nodded and he took off through
the crowd, leaving me alone with my three new “friends.”

“So, Lexi, is it?” Tattooed Jonas
asked. He twirled an unlit cigarette between his fingers like a baton. When I
nodded, he said, “How’d you meet Jack?”

“School.”

“And he
invited
you to come
here tonight?” Guyliner Fred squinted across the table, skeptical.

I shifted in my seat, not answering
his question. Didn’t feel the need to. I craned my neck in search for Jack. Why
were we at this bar?

Jack returned. Handed me the water.
“You guys ready?” he asked Fred and Jonas. Then, to me he said, “Sit tight
here, with Georgia.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back,” he said, uneasy.

It was unusual to see him in a rare
moment of insecurity. It confused me.

He trailed off behind the other
two, disappearing through the crowd that gathered around the stage.

Georgia’s eyes were practically
bugged out, a huge smile plastered across her face. “You have no idea why he
brought you here, do you?”

I gave my head a little shake.
Georgia chuckled under her breath. Was I even sure I was safe here? I snaked my
neck to look for Jack.

“You’re in for a treat then. You
two dating?”

“No,” I answered too quickly in an “as
if” sort of tone. Were we dating? Maybe we were. Did one date or a few kisses
constitute dating?

“Does he know that?” She laughed,
showing me her perfectly straight teeth. Her facial features were unusual,
exotic even. Beautiful.

I unscrewed the cap on my water and
took three really big swallows.

Georgia scooted closer and leaned
into me. “It’s okay. He’s easy to like.”

Crap. What was I doing here? This
was crazy. I needed information. I wanted questions answered. That’s it. That’s
all I was doing.
I give Jack his date; he gives me answers
. I swallowed
another drink of water, attempting to wash down the lies I was still telling
myself.

The sounds of guitars plugging into
amplifiers interrupted the arguments going on inside my head for escaping the
bar and leaving Jack to his night of bar hopping.

“Good evening. How is everyone
tonight?” A voice I recognized came across the microphone. The crowd that had
gathered in front of the stage cheered. “This first song is new. Hope you like
it.”

The music started up, and Jack
immediately started singing.

“Might want to close your mouth,”
Georgia said next to me.

I did, but I almost had to use my
hand to keep it closed.

“He’s in a band?” I said, mostly to
myself.

“A truly incredible band,” Georgia
laughed. “And you didn’t know?” She had to yell to be heard.

I shook my head. “He never said
anything.”

Georgia scooted away from me, and I
sat back, listening. The music was loud, the lyrics deep. Jack’s voice was soft,
soothing. Clear. Unbelievable. It sounded like a combination of Coldplay and
The Fray, both bands I loved.

As his words touched my ears and
the sound of his voice filled my head, feelings I didn’t recognize warmed the
blood coursing through my veins. Eventually, that warmth surrounded my heart
and squeezed.

When the set was over, I downed my
water. An excitement filled the faces of the people who had moments before
stood up next to the stage, but now made their way to the bar for refreshments.

Jack hopped off the stage, shook
the hands of a few people and fist-bumped others as he made his way toward our
table. The smile on his face looked genuine, relaxed. Not at all nervous or
fearful the way he appeared when he told me he would help me walk away from our
lives. At that moment, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to turn my back on him.
I squirmed, unsure of what to say.

He scooted into the booth, forcing
me to move over. My stomach churned and my heart shrunk into a tiny ball of
rubber bands. I stared at the condensation running down the new bottle of water
in front of me.

“Great set,” Georgia said.

“Thanks.” For the first time ever,
Jack sounded bashful.