Oppression (13 page)

She paused, and I felt sick. “There’s time,” she said, not taking my promise to heart. She squeezed my hand, asking for its release, and went up the stairs to find the clothes.

I let the shower run scalding hot, trying to prove to myself that I wasn’t numb. The water felt good, like I was washing all the hopelessness from my life, and I stayed in a lot longer than I should. William’s gorgeous smile still burned in my mind, but I tried to push it out. The look in Anna’s eyes had given me new purpose, and I wouldn’t let her down. Maybe healing was what I was meant to do.

I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t want to see William. The mere idea of him left a heart-wrenching void in my chest, but I wasn’t going to let his childish game deter me. No matter what happened, I was determined to heal her. I’d find a way.

I slipped into Chloe’s tight fitting Levis and a hot pink shirt with rhinestone hearts on the front, brushed my teeth and combed my hair. My skin was chapped and dry from a night of crying salty tears. I looked around for some lotion, but came across Anna’s collection of wrinkle creams and anti-aging eye serums instead. I suddenly felt a twinge of guilt at the sight of my reflection. My eighty-nine-year-old cheeks were firm and rosy, my hair, saturated with vibrant shades of brown, hadn’t grayed in the slightest. I was a perfect picture of health.

“You almost ready?” Anna called from outside the door.

“Yeah. I’ll be right out,” I answered. I placed the fancy jars back in their place on the counter, trying to remember their exact position. “Okay. I’m ready. Sorry, for taking so long, the shower felt nice. Do you need to go to your appointment?”

“In about ten minutes,” she said leading the way down the stairs.

“I should go with you,” I proposed.

“No, you should go home. Find William, and hear him out. If you don’t like what he has to say, then give him a piece of your mind and be done with it.”

“I think I should stay.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t. I’m officially kicking you out. This is a big deal, Elyse. There are others like you. It’s a new world. You need to go be a part of it.”

I stuffed my dirty clothes into my bag and followed her to the front door. “I guess you’re right,” I answered, but my reasoning was different. It was the only way I could learn how to heal her.

“Damn right,” she said. “You can’t run away from your problems, Ellie.”

“Are you going to be all right going by yourself, though? You have to be careful. If someone is following you, you have to call me.”

She gave me a stubborn look. “I’m a grown woman, Elyse. I’ll be fine.”

“At least keep your phone on.”

I hugged her goodbye wondering how long I really had to help her. She squeezed me as tightly as her fragile body could, unafraid to overstep boundaries. We were as close as we ever were, no awkward moments or empty conversation, just genuine friendship. Blood sisters for life.

12.

THE RIDE HOME was lengthy, and I couldn’t help but notice I’d only added more weight to my mental baggage. Although my visit with Anna was comforting and helped clear things up in terms of William, her sickness added to my worries, and the farther I was away from her, the more helpless I felt.
One thing at a time
, I reminded myself. Going home was the answer to Anna’s health problems, the only way to find out what I needed to do to heal her.

The part of me that longed for William never let up. I willed the train to go faster because of it. It was irrational and backward, but it urged me on just as fervently as it had driven me away. I knew that seeing him played a part in healing Anna, that maybe he could tell me what I needed to know, but I couldn’t escape the fact that I
wanted
to see him. No matter how hard I tried to push him out, the yearning had tangled its roots around my sense of reason and remained, ever-present.

After I got off at my stop, I nearly ran the few blocks between the station and my place. When I finally turned the last corner, something in me expected to see him, and I ached with relief as he came into view like the rising sun. Sitting on the stoop of my front door, hands folded across his knees, he was waiting. His head turned at the sound of my shuffling feet, his face tired and defeated. There was no uplifting smile to admire. Our eyes locked, his communicating worry, mine unassailable surrender.

“How long have you been sitting here?” I tried to make my words calm and steady.

“All night,” he said, still seated.

“You slept out here?”

“Didn’t sleep much, no.”

I couldn’t figure him out. This wasn’t the behavior of someone trying to manipulate me, and if he was, this was taking it a little far.

“Why?” I asked, pleading. I needed answers.

“I was worried. Kara told me about the girl. Why did you run away, Ellie?”

I gave him a perplexed look. Was he playing more games? Wasn’t it obvious why I’d run?

“What happened?” He rose as he spoke, his brow pinching together with concern.

I couldn’t tell him about Anna, but the more I thought about his lie, the more frustration began to build. Conflicting emotions raged and I wanted so badly to be strong and give him the piece of my mind I had been practicing.

“You made a fool of me,” I returned, my voice cracking as the tears came. I tried to compose myself, but the rest came out as a jumbled mess of questions. “Why are you here? Why are you doing this to me? Why did you wait here? Why . . .”

“How did I make a fool of you?” he asked. He was closer to me now, baring his striking features like fierce weapons, each one fighting my will to confront him. “What did I do?”

His ruby lips were within reach, moist and ready. I craved them and remembered so clearly and simply what he had done. “You lied,” I snapped. “You tricked me into loving you.”

Overwhelmed and distraught, I turned to escape down the street, but hesitated remembering Anna’s words.
You can’t run away from your problems, Ellie
.

A pair of finely sculpted arms wrapped around me quieting my shaking shoulders. I felt his face bury into the back of my hair, his body pressing tight against my back. I sighed deeply, unable to deny myself the pleasure of his touch.

“Is that what you think?” His chest shook as he laughed.

“It’s not funny,” I said pulling away reluctantly. “Why are you laughing?” I swung around to face him.

“You love me,” he beamed.

“Only because you’re manipulating my heart and my feelings or whatever you do. Kara told me your bloodline was Aphrodite. You know, it’s cruel to play with people’s emotions.”

“Elyse, my power doesn’t work like that,” he said, still smiling ear to ear.

“What do you mean? Like what?”

“I mean, I have to be in the presence of the person for it to be effective. Besides I only tried it on you that once, and it’s not a permanent thing.”

I was still skeptical. Maybe I was just in denial, because it was all too good to be true. I crossed my arms protectively across my chest. How could I be sure this wasn’t just part of his game?

“I don’t know,” I said with a doubtful expression.

“So stubborn,” he smirked. His green eyes became sharp and suddenly the familiar euphoric sensation began to spread. I couldn’t speak. The feeling was strong, like butterflies without the nerves, and was more suggestive of infatuation than love. It was almost impossible to think of anything but his brilliance. I was a victim to it, a slave to his very existence. Something compelled me to please him, and I knew, without a question in my mind, I would do anything he asked. After a moment, his eyes snapped shut, moving down and away as he waited for me to recover.

“Oh,” I gasped, flushing with embarrassment as the feeling dissipated. I was instantly horrified at my absurd behavior, but also completely relieved to know that William wasn’t the villain I had made him out to be.

“. . . which means,” he continued, “that you love me, like you said.”

I stood mortified at my confession.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” I asked, a little embarrassed.

“You could have just asked.”

That probably would have been the more rational response. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

William seemed back to his normal self, satisfied with my sad excuse for an apology. I didn’t know what to say, but he needed no words. He pulled me closer, our faces almost touching. He reached for my face and held my head with both hands as he pushed his mouth into mine. His lips were pillow soft and delicate, moving in perfect rhythm with my own. His breath was warm and tasted of spearmint, and with each brush of his lips my pulse quickened sending hot blood through my body. When his lips left my mouth, they did not pull away, but lingered close, and traveled up my cheek to my ear.

“I love you too, Ellie,” he whispered.

I melted at the sound of his low growling voice, but doubt had me questioning him again.

“How do you know for sure you do?”

“Well, I am kind of an expert,” he teased.

“Shut up.” I laughed. “So I guess after waiting all night at my door, you might want to come inside?”

“No, actually I was thinking I’d just sit out here for a few more hours.”

I rolled my eyes and cracked a smile.

“Yes, I’m coming inside,” he said reassuringly.

“Good, because I need to pick your brain. I have questions,” I said unlocking the door.

“I have some questions too, actually,” he added, suddenly more serious. “Where did you go?”

“A motel,” I lied as we climbed the stairs to my apartment.

“Nice shirt,” he added suspiciously. “I didn’t think you liked rhinestones.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, Kara got blood on my clothes, so I . . . picked these up at a thrift store nearby. It was all I could find.” I threw my purse onto the couch. “I’ll be right back. I want to get into some of my own stuff.” Guilt instantly set in as I regretted the lie, but I needed some time to consider the situation with Anna. I was sure William wouldn’t approve of what I had planned.

The weather was sunny and perfect since yesterday, so I threw on some cutoff jean shorts and a plain blue tank top. I ran my fingers through my flat hair and pinched my cheeks trying to bring color to my face.

“You dressed?” William asked from behind the door.

“Yeah,” I answered, and he peeked his head in, his hair falling into his eyes the way I liked.

“So what did you want to pick my brain about?” he asked, kicking his flip-flops off and climbing onto my queen size bed.

“Oh.” I wondered how I to phrase my question. I couldn’t very well ask him,
So, how do I cure my human friend with cancer?
Especially not after last night’s episode. “I was just curious if you knew more about my ability. I’m not sure how to heal something that isn’t an open wound.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like . . . a black eye,” I improvised.

He nodded his head, wondering to himself. “To be honest, I don’t know. The only reason I knew how to heal your leg was because of Kara. I’m not sure how she knew, but the night she stabbed you with that blade, she told me how to heal the cut.”

I sat backwards in my desk chair to face him. “I don’t remember that.”

“You wouldn’t. Part of her ability is that she can speak to others telepathically.”

“So, she told you with her mind?”

“Yeah,” he answered casually. “You should ask Iosif, though. He would know.”

I watched him curiously from across the room, noticing the little things that made him so uniquely beautiful. He scanned the row of books I had lined up on my night stand for easy access.

“
Romeo and Juliet
?” he observed, taking it off of the table. “If love’s rough with you, be rough with love, prick love for pricking and you beat love down.” He flashed a heart-stopping glance at me. “That’s my favorite line.” He took his time thumbing through the pages.

Everything about him seemed no less than perfect. How his thick hair, the color of golden honey, always seemed to reflect the light as he combed his fingers through it. How the green color of his eyes fought with the brown pressing it to the distant edge. How his lips, shaped for the perfect kiss, slid over his teeth in a smile that nearly blinded me. It was a contagious smile that filled the room and drew immediate attention. His body was sturdy and hard, and the rustic subtleties of his face gave him the look of a man, not a boy. I felt as though I could spend hours or even days examining every detail, every imperfection, every fleck of color in his skin.

“Are you sure your ability doesn’t . . .”

“What?” he asked, eager to hear the end of my sentence.

“Have lasting effects?”

He laughed. “You tell me.”

My cheeks flushed as I remembered my embarrassing confession on the front steps. “I’d rather not.”

“No,” he answered. “Nobody has ever experienced lasting effects.”

“Not even Kara?” I hadn’t even realized the thought had been bothering me. I had buried it deep, hoping I’d never have to ask it, but I had to know.

He sighed and looked away. “I was worried about that,” he admitted.

“So there is something between you two.”

“No,” he assured me. “Kara . . . she has issues.”

“I sort of figured that,” I said, moving to sit with him on the bed.

He scooted back to lean against the headboard, and I nestled in beside him.

“We used to be best friends when we were kids. Before the war, we saw each other every day. She was like a sister, really. You know, she’d come over and we’d play cops and robbers, hide from our parents for hours just to make them crazy, beg to stay the night at each other’s houses. We were pretty inseparable.”

I turned toward him, my eyes drifting to the muscle flexing in his cheek. “What happened?”

“The war. When it started, Kara and I were in our fifties, just kids. It’s not an easy thing to make friends in a war, especially when your dad is leading the rebellion. Kara was the only one I had. When The Council found out that she was descendant of Prometheus, they wanted her. They wanted the ability to read thoughts. So they took her.”