More Than Jamie Baker (Jamie Baker #2) (24 page)

“Everything okay?” Teddy’s soft voice startled me.

“Yeah,” I said, pocketing the phone he was subtly trying to read. “I don’t know. Just...My mom...Family crisis.”

I couldn’t just tell Teddy to hold on while I went to check the TV, but I could hear the television in the lobby of my dorm playing some “breaking news,” so I kept walking.

In an attempt to keep calm, I picked up our conversation again. “Okay, let me have it. I know what you get when you Google Jamie Baker, and you, with all your devious hacking skills, probably dug up a lot more than that.”

Teddy sill looked concerned for me, but managed to look sheepish when he answered, “Guilty again.”

“Well, you must have something to say or questions you want to ask. Everyone always does.”

Teddy smiled, but it was a sad smile full of sympathy. “A lot of things about you make sense now, that’s all.” I wanted to know what things, but I didn’t ask. “I also just wanted to say that you’ve been through a lot, and you know I know what that’s like. You seem like you’ve been stressed the last few weeks. I know you have Ryan, but I just want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here, too.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I didn’t. I was grateful for an interruption when we reached the lobby of my building and were met with a large crowd gathered around the TV. At least, I was until I realized what the breaking news was about.

There was a man standing on the roof of a ten-story building, handcuffed to a terrified girl. He was shouting and waving a gun frantically, jerking the girl around as if threatening to throw them both over the edge.

My mother texted me again, with a message sounding just as frantic as her first one.

I gripped my purse, not sure what to do. My first instinct was to get down there and find a way to help, but logic told me there wasn’t much I could do. But then the reporters began talking and what they said left me no choice. The man on the roof was demanding that Chelsea’s Angel come to him or else he was going to jump, taking his ten-year-old stepdaughter with him.

My blood froze in my veins. Whatever that man’s issue was with Chelsea’s Angel, that little girl’s life was in danger because of me. It may not have technically been my fault, but just like the other times in my life—Derek’s death, Ryan’s kidnapping, Mike’s inability to walk—this girl’s suffering was a result of my actions.

I didn’t realize how worked up I was until my necklace lit up. I quickly tried to get control of myself, but I wasn’t fast enough. Teddy was watching me very closely. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

I realized I had tears in my eyes, my whole body was shaking, and I probably looked angry enough to scare Hitler. I was lucky my eyes weren’t glowing.

I didn’t offer any explanation for my sudden mood swing or the fact that I was ditching him. I couldn’t think of one, and frankly, I didn’t have the time. I simply said “I have to go” and took off.

It was easy to make
myself go, but once I got there I realized exactly how screwed I was. There were people everywhere—media, police, fire and rescue, curious bystanders. Even SWAT was there with a hostage negotiator. There was no way I was going to be able to stop that guy without dealing with the police or being caught on camera. Up until now people had talked about me, but no one had managed a picture. Now I was going to have to go up on that roof and actually work with the police. I was going to be so exposed.

And so screwed.

Oh, well. What was I going to do, not show up?

I took a deep breath to brace myself, and then supersneaked past the crowd. Perhaps I should have made my presence known down at the police barricades instead of bursting straight out onto the roof and sending the crowd of police into a panic. I nearly got shot when the roof access door slammed shut behind me.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Relax!” I said, holding my hands up in surrender when I found a small army of guns pointed at my head. “I thought I was the guest of honor at this party.”

It took them all a minute to register who they were looking at. Not a single one of them was sure how to react. They kept their guns trained on me, but I saw all of their eyes turn to the man in charge. He noticed their stares too and forced himself to say something.

“How did you get up here?”

It was hard not to roll my eyes. There were more important things to worry about. “I took the stairs. Do you all want to put down the guns so I can go stop this creep from killing an innocent girl?”

“Oh, no you don’t, miss. You have a lot of questions to answer for!”

“Like what? Is it a crime to help old people out of a burning house or keep a couple of morons from drowning?”

“How about interfering with police business and leaving the scene of a crime, for starters?”

I don’t know if I’ve said this before, but I don’t have the best record for playing nice with cops. I haven’t really had the best experiences with them, and I don’t really respond well when they try to strong-arm me. “Well, I’m sure you can you understand my need for anonymity,” I said, unable to hit the mute button on my sarcasm.

“You can’t keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Oh yeah, ’cause I’m the bad guy here. Never mind the man threatening to throw a little girl off a ten-story building.”

“You are not above the law! You are dangerous, and you have no business here.”

That was it—I let go of my control on my energy. I tend to do that when people make me really angry. I balled up my hands into tight fists at my sides and closed my eyes. When I opened them again I knew they were glowing an eerie yellow. My hair also began to whip around my head the way it does, as if I were standing in a whirlwind.

There was a collective gasp and everyone seemed to back up a step.

I took a deep breath and calmed myself enough for my hair to settle. “Look. That nut job is asking for me. I am willing to work with you right now to get that little girl to safety. Do you want my help or not?”

I expected him to say no. He might have even been going to, but then another man jumped in front of him before he could give me an answer. “Yes,” the man said quietly. He was wearing a Kevlar vest and a navy jacket that said negotiator. He met my eyes with intensity. “We need you.”

Well. At least
someone
recognized what was up.

“I can’t guarantee your safety,” the grumpy policeman mumbled.

I shrugged. “You can’t guarantee yours either, and you’re out here.”

“That’s different.”

“Yeah, I’m probably a little better equipped to handle him.”

The negotiator eyed me curiously. “Can you fly?”

He’d asked the question seriously, so I answered it sincerely. “No.”

“Bulletproof?” he asked hopefully.

“I know I can take a beating way more severe than most people could survive, but my boyfriend thinks that if I can get a paper cut or scrape my knee, then I’m not completely impervious. He’s pretty good with theories, so I’m going to stay on the safe side and assume bullets can kill me.”

While Inspector Cranky Pants seemed insultingly astonished that I had a boyfriend, Mr. Hostage Negotiator slipped off his own Kevlar vest and handed it to me. I shook my head. “Thanks for the thought, but I think I’d be better off without that.”

“But you just said you aren’t bulletproof.”

“Yeah, but
he
doesn’t know that.” I waved my hand in the direction of the ledge the crazy guy was causing all the trouble on. “No need to tip my hand. Plus, there’s just something unsettling about the thought of an electrically charged girl wrapped in a metal vest. I want to help that little girl, not fry her.”

The man was tongue-tied, but he managed to set the vest down and handed me something else. “Microphone and an earpiece,” he explained. “If you go out there you have to do exactly as I say, all right? I know you’re a very special girl, but you aren’t trained to deal with men like him.”

He stared me down as if he expected me to argue and blinked a few times when I held out my hand. He handed me the wire, but I gave him back the earpiece. “I can’t put that in my ear. Just talk to me. I’ll hear you.”

After I attached the microphone to my clothes, I looked back at the negotiator to find him watching me with a sense of awe. “Miss?” he asked. “How did you get like this?”

I shrugged, not wanting to think about the worst moment of my life right then. “That’s a story for another time.” I patted myself down. “Is this thing on? Can you hear me?”

The man nodded.

“Okay, then. I guess we’re ready. Where is he?”

The sea of law enforcement officers cleared a path revealing a small flight of stairs that led to the highest part of the roof. They were silent as I passed them, their gazes following me with admiration.

I squirmed under their stares. I’ve never liked getting that kind of attention. I’ve always seen my powers as a curse, something that made me a freak. Ryan was the first to ever show me the positive side to them, but I still had a hard time with the thought of people accepting me the way I am. These people were looking at me as if I were some kind of god.

I squared my shoulders and looked straight ahead, holding my breath, face set in grim determination. Just before I reached the front of the barricade, I felt a hand come down on my shoulder. “Miss?” One of the officers had stepped forward, his eyes glossy with a layer of tears. “I have a son the same age as the little girl you found in Tennessee.” His voice broke and he looked back at all of his peers. “Most of us think what you’re doing is amazing. Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t thank me yet. That little girl out there is still in danger.”

“You’re going to do great, Angel.”

That made me smile. “Angel. I like it. Thanks for not going with Super Babe.”

The man chuckled, sharing a real grin with me for a second. I stepped away from his grip and started to turn away, but then stopped. “Oh, just for future reference? You might want to spread the word that it’s not smart to touch me when I’m not expecting it. It’s not always safe.”

I gave the man a dangerous smile and let my energy flow so strongly the hairs on his arms stood on end even though he wasn’t touching me anymore. He gasped and took a step back, not necessarily frightened of me, just shocked by the intensity of my glowing eyes, and smart enough to see the danger I presented.

The next thing I knew I was in the no-man’s-land halfway between the cops and the crazy guy on the ledge. “Okay, Angel,” I heard the negotiator say in a low, calm voice. Apparently he’d liked the cop’s nickname for me. “Approach very slowly with your hands in plain sight. Try to keep calm and don’t show any fear when you address him.”

I glanced behind me. The negotiator had pushed his way to the front of the barricade, waiting to see if I could really hear him. I gave him a nod of understanding and then turned my attention back to the man on the ledge.

“Hey!”

The guy whirled around, a bit startled, and yanked the girl even closer to him. He pressed the gun against the side of her head and she released another round of sobs.

I sucked in a breath. I wanted to tear this man apart for what he was doing.

“Easy, Angel,” the negotiator said behind me. “You must stay calm. Try to act like you’re on his side. Let him know you understand that he’s in control of this situation.”

Did he seriously want me to coddle this jerk? Bat my lashes, and say please?

I meant to. I really did. But when I opened my mouth what came out was, “I’m here, jerk-off. Why don’t you let the girl go and we’ll have a chat?”

“Shut up!” the man screamed at me. “You can’t tell me what to do! You think you’re so much better than me? Some kind of angel?”

I scoffed. “I never claimed to be an angel, but seeing as how I’m not the one putting an innocent girl’s life in danger, yeah, I definitely think I’m better than you.”

“What gives you the right to play with people’s lives?”

“I’m not playing with them. I’m saving them.”

The man burst into desperate sobs and screamed, “You didn’t save my son! He was only three years old! He needed your help, but you didn’t save him!”

I felt like I’d been slapped in the face. This was the last thing I’d been expecting, and I had no idea how to respond. “I’m sorry about your son.”