Tainted Energy (The Energy Series Book 1) (13 page)

The
doughy state of my brain shouldn't have been a surprise. It'd been that way for
three months. Fortunately, my mind stayed clear enough to remember everything
going on, even with the clouds rolling in.

He stood
up to kiss me, and I let him–for a second. I moved away to sit, taking a sip of
the tea he bought steaming on my desk.

Okay,
you can have one karma point for this…

He kept
standing. "What's wrong?"

The
confusion and hurt shadowing his eyes almost had me cracking. But a sneaking
mental reminder that fought through the fog, highlighting all the recent crazy
stuff, strengthened my nerve. Keeping him as far away as possible became
another necessity. Bad enough I still needed Jake.

"Nothing,
just tired." I pushed the sandwich away and continued to sip on my tea.

"You
ain't hungry?" He said it with so much surprise I had to wonder if he
thought of himself as my personal food bank.

"Already
ate."

He
slumped into his chair and stared at me. More like tried to penetrate my
thoughts with his eyes. Thank God–or, I guess the Energy Warden?–only Wilma had
that talent.

As the morning
announcements dribbled from the intercom, I caught a couple kids from the
basketball team and one guy from my neighborhood saying crap to Belva. My heart
lurched when a tear slipped from her eye, though to her credit, she didn't say
a word. She kept her eyes on her phone, scrolling down the screen.

Total. Bullshit.

I
ignored Zander's demand to stay out of it and went to stand in between Belva
and the morons. "It's nice to see the dumbasses and trash bonding."

They
were as shocked as I was after I spoke. Blood pumped hard through my nervous
system, the sound vibrating in my ears. My legs shook a little, too, but I
chalked that up to adrenaline. Nope, it definitely wasn't fear of losing my
wallflower status.

Being
noticed by a whole new breed of predators. Why not? The more the merrier…

The
trailer park kid decided to stick up for his new friends, standing up to face
me, his pimply face sweaty and red. "Guess daddy doesn't hit hard enough,
huh, Lena? Maybe I should come over, give him some pointers."

Ha!
Like that was supposed to embarrass me?

"Yeah,
Kip? Maybe show him how your little brother beats the shit outta you?"
With a swipe under my nose, I flashed a lip curl at the other two. "You
all should see how he runs 'round cryin' for his mommy after his ten-year-old
brother thrashes him."

I used
my best white trash accent, butchering my English to the point of making it a
new language. Why give the "good" kids the wrong idea, like maybe
they weren't better than me and Kip. Idiots.

The act
worked because they ignored Belva to tag team Kip, now the target.

Guess he
should've picked nicer friends.

Satisfied
that the jocks practiced their bullying techniques on someone else, I turned to
Belva, who kept her eyes pointed on her phone.

At least
her tears dried.

∞ ∞ ∞

The day
wore on with me checking the clock every five minutes. Zander walked with me to
every class, though he didn't say much, and I didn't encourage conversation
either. At lunch, we sat with Belva. She refused to acknowledge us, but I didn't
care. At least everyone left her alone.

By the
end of the day, Zander's temper flared. He snapped at anyone who stumbled into
his path and left without asking about seeing him outside of school. He didn't
even try to kiss me. As strange as it sounded, as soon as he was gone the fuzz
disappeared like clouds after a storm.

I
collected my backpack, Zander already forgotten, when Coach Stump cornered me. "Tulman,
we've got a problem."

My
stomach dropped. "Problem?"

He
pulled his ball cap lower on his forehead. "I know what I told you about
not coming this week, but some kids don't find it fair, seeing as how they're
working their tails off to get a starting position."

Damn. "Well,
I told you there's some stuff going on at home, Coach. And…come on. You know I
don't need tryouts to prove myself. I belong on the team."

"Yeah,
I know, but the other girls have a point. Favoritism and all that." His
face looked pained, as though he were suffering from constipation. "I'll
give you today, but if you don't show tomorrow, I'm gonna have to keep you off
the team."

Not
good. If I didn't get on the team, I wouldn't have a shot at having any real
future. I'd be stuck in this town, probably working for Jake the rest of my
life–
if
I survived longer than until next week. The decision was simple.
"Okay, yeah, I'll be there."

Relief
softened his face, and he slapped me on the back. "Thatta girl, Tulman."

I leaned
against my locker while he walked away, yelling at some kids who were making
out by their lockers.

Catching
a break shouldn't be so damn hard.

Lena

A
fter we parked the car at Wilma's,
I waited until the bus pulled up before climbing out and following the herd
down the graveled hill.

The urge
to head for the woods pulled the hand of my courage when Dad blocked the door.
He sat on his cement stoop, smoking a cigarette while giving every passing kid
a sneer. I stood right in front of him.

He didn't
even look at me. "Godless little demons. Someday they'll answer for it."

Whatever
"it" was...

"Yeah,
I'm sure they will." I walked around him and opened the door.

As soon
as it closed, I had a hard time picking between flipping out and falling to my
knees in tears.

The
whole place had what looked like tornado debris scattered through the main
rooms, the major disaster being Mom's romance novels, shredded and strewn all
over the living room. Splintered legs from the dining room table littered the
threadbare carpet, with one leg sticking through the broken kitchen window. All
the meager contents in the refrigerator spilled out onto the faded linoleum
floor.

I had no
idea where all the other trash came from, but there, in the kitchen, scrubbing
at some molded stuff coloring the floor, was my mother.

"Mom?"

She
looked up, the dullness letting me know she really wasn't there, with a fresh
bruise swelling her cheek. "We need to get the filth out."

"Get
up." When she ignored me, I pulled her to her feet. "Don't do this.
Don't
let him do this."

Clarity
washed over her face. She held out her dirty hands, tears flooding her eyes. "He's
going to kill us."

On cue, Dad
slammed the front door, his voice a low growl. "You need to repent, Jacie.
Reading that pornography in my house...bringing the devil in here." He
shoved her to her knees, and she continued to scrub the mold, her eyes glazing
over.

He
turned to me, his face twisted and ugly. "Where're your clothes at,
peanut?" The way he said
peanut
as if the word were battery acid,
made me forget my promise not to be afraid anymore.

"They're...
What?"

"You
heard me." He kept leering at me while Mom scrubbed the same spot over and
over.

Trying
to fake disinterest, I walked into my room to find the bed stripped and the
mirror busted all over the mattress. He was right behind me, his stale breath
turning my stomach.

I
swallowed the vomit rushing from my throat. "They're right here." I opened
my closet and pulled out a bag with Jake's present, which also held my
sweatshirts and underwear. There wasn't much there, but hopefully he'd be
satisfied.

He wasn't.
"Where're the rest of them."

"I
used Wilma's machine." I almost gagged when the vomit demanded release.

He
watched me for a minute then slid a hand down the side of my face before
wrapping it around my neck. Every nerve in my body came alive.

So
this is what it felt like when you knew you were going to die.

There
wasn't much pressure on my throat, though. A warning shot, I guess. "You
get them back, you hear? We don't need no one's charity."

"Yeah,
okay." The pressure of his hand was just enough to prevent me from
swallowing.

"Clean
this mess up." He let go and slicked back his greasy hair before grabbing
the doorknob. "There ain't no dinner tonight, punishment for your mother's
pornography."

As soon
as the door closed, I pushed in the knob until the lock clicked, hoping it'd be
enough to keep him out, but knowing otherwise. I sat on the edge of the bed,
taking deep breaths, trying to staunch the fear threatening a full-blown panic
attack.

Then the
mattress moved, stretching and lengthening until it lapped over the wooded
edge. Instead of intensifying the terror that bastard induced, it soothed my
pulsating heart and overzealous nervous system. I didn't move from the side of
the bed as the mattress skimmed my leg. The slight tugs from the rubber
grappled at my side as it tried to pull me in, not much strength behind the
effort.

The
movement stopped after a few minutes when the sloshing and gripping rubber
failed to provoke me. After the water-filled animal grew docile, I began to
pick the shards of mirror off the bed, smiling. The trick was no longer a
secret, giving me strength.

I dumped
my clothes from the bag and replaced them with the mess I'd just picked up, shifting
my attention toward the bed. "You'll have to do better than that."

∞ ∞ ∞

By the
time nine o'clock rolled around, the house was silent. Without dinner, there
wasn't much for Dad to do but go to bed.

Mom came
in to check on me, and she looked delicate, as if one good hit would break her
apart. Her appearance set me on edge. I didn't know how much longer her body
could handle whatever controlled her. Hopefully, she'd be strong enough for a
couple more days.

When the
tapping on my window came that night, I opened it, pushed out the screen, and
tried to drag him in myself.

"Wait...Lena...just
back up, okay?" He hopped in, more graceful without my help, and scanned
my trashed room. "What happened?"

"My
dad, that's what happened." I tried to whisper, but after seeing Mom, my
voice sounded borderline hysterical. "Something's definitely controlling
them."

He sat
on the edge of the bed, his face taking on that faraway look that said a long
bout of contemplation was coming.

I wasn't
in the mood to watch him mull over a question for an hour. "Well? You
better have something because the damn bed tried to pull me in again."

He
grabbed my hand, dragging me on his lap. "How did you stop it?"

Pushing
off, I paced the small space between the bed and the window. My hand ran
through my hair so many times, it stuck out everywhere. "How do you think?
I didn't let fear take over. I do listen when people talk, for Christ's sakes."

"All
right, calm down. We–"

"Don't
tell me to calm down. My mom acts like a damn zombie, and Dad's worse sober than
he ever was drunk. And let's not forget my bed keeps trying to suck me in."
I stopped in front of him. "How about you try to be more, I don't know,
excited? Ah, less calm, maybe?"

"We're
not going to get anywhere if you don't stop yelling." His voice stayed at
a whisper, though it sparked with agitation.

I held
up my hands, wanting to keep the fight going, but the pity on his face, the
same pitying frown I'd always given Mom when she panicked, had the right
effect. With a huff, I plopped beside him. "Okay, just tell me what's
going on."

"Again,
the only thing I can come up with is persuasion."

I
shrugged, trying really hard not to punch him in the arm when he paused again. "So
why aren't they trying to control me?"

He
hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees. "Persuasion won't work on
you, just the telepathy, you know, people talking in your head."

Talking
in my–

"A
voice! I heard a voice like four times, twice when the bed started acting
crazy." I slapped my forehead. "How the hell did I forget that?"

His eyes
grew cold. "Man or woman?"

"A…ah,
man. Definitely a man." I snorted. "His voice was actually pleasant."

"Whoever's
helping is strong." His knee started to bounce. "Shit."

"Can't
you counter it? With your…skills?"

His knee
bounced faster. "Sorry, not that strong. I don't have telekinetic and
telepathic abilities."

I put a
hand on his leg, stilling it. "All I know is that I need to get out of
here." I looked up to find him watching me. "You can help now, get
involved?"

He took
my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. "Damn right."

My fingers
tightened around his. "We're leaving, then. Soon."

"I'll
talk to Wilma while you're in school, let her know what's going on. We'll leave
tomorrow night." He hesitated. "Lena, I can't hurt your… father. It's
not him doing all this. You understand, right?"

"Yeah,
whatever. I'm not looking to hurt him; I just want to get the hell outta here–with
Mom. And about school, I need to go to tryouts tomorrow. It's gonna piss him
off, but I think after today I can manage the fear."

He
nodded and began the new ritual of massaging my palm.

Hmm,
or maybe it was an old one?
Wow, way too much to process if I thought about it hard enough.

"You
were always pretty fast," he said, his mouth curving in a grin.

I nudged
his leg. "But not faster than you, right?"

His
dimples decided to come out, melting the tension in my shoulders. "Right."