The Honor Trilogy: Books One, Two, and Three of the Honor Trilogy (45 page)

Strong.

I have to be strong.

Accepting that heart will leave me vulnerable and not in control of my own life. If I am strong and do not surrender, I can stay here in limbo. If Ethan doesn’t save Storm, Ethan can live a normal life and Storm can stay here in limbo with me. I have to stop him.

“Ethan, please,” I yell again, wrapping my whole ghost of a body around Ethan.

Ethan flinches.

He can
feel
me. I’m sure of it.

“Stop, Ethan. You can’t do this,” I scream into his ear.

He pulls his hands off of Storm and looks around the hall. His eyes narrow as he scans the crowd, but he shrugs it off and looks at Storm. Ethan feels something, but he doesn’t know what it is. His hands take a while to return to Storm, but they do end up back on Storm’s head and chest.

When Ethan closes his eyes, I lose hope.

Storm will survive and Ethan will be left susceptible to the government’s whims.

Now I need to decide if
I
should live.

Police officers have now entered the hallway. As soon as they get close to Ethan and Storm, they stop. There is no way they’d interrupt the scene in front of them now. Before our eyes, Storm’s open face begins closing. As if the healing were displayed on a time-lapsed video, his facial wounds close completely within seconds. When Ethan moves his hand to Storm’s temple, a lone bullet flies out and hits Ethan in his Adam’s apple before the wound fills up and covers with skin. Aside from the mess of blood glued to Storm’s hair and face, there is no sign of a bullet ever entering his temple.

Even though seeing the bullet with my own eyes is proof, I am in a state of disbelief that Storm put a bullet to his head to save my life. He sacrificed everything for me. Suddenly I feel so unworthy of the commitment that took. Would I have done the same for him? A smile spreads across my face.
In a heartbeat, I would.

Storm’s eyes flash open. Still on his back, he seems stunned to be lying there. He inhales loudly then turns his head to look around him. He places his hands on the floor and sits up. Shaking his head, he mumbles something that sounds like “what the fuck?” under his breath.

Ethan, still on his knees, inches his way beneath Shelby, and I notice that she pushes Tamlin on top of Storm. Once again, Storm’s on his back, but this time the cops rush over toward him. In the time it takes to watch Tamlin fall onto Storm and the cops running to him, Ethan and Shelby have disappeared. Ethan must have realized what saving Storm would mean for him. The cops would have questions and Ethan’s powers would no longer be private. Just like I had assumed, Ethan will be wanted by the CIA, just like I am.

But I can no longer choose death over life. Not after the courage the people in my life have shown. Not only had Storm tried to give me his heart, but Ethan, knowing the government was already on to me, still risked his secret to save his brother. Leaving friends like that would be cowardly. I need my body to accept that heart. I won’t let it reject it. The people in my life are too important.

One of the cops pulls Tamlin off of Storm while the other helps Storm to his feet. After the shock of seeing a bloodied dead man come back to life completely healed from the touch of a teenager, the nurses run back to him.

“Ma’am,” one cop says, “we need to question him.”

The nurse’s eyes pop up and she takes Storm by the upper arm. “Excuse me, but this is a medical emergency. We need to see to him first."

The cop opens his mouth to speak, but Storm yanks his arm from the nurse’s grip and says, “Get the fuck away from me, all of you.”

He begins walking toward me, but the cop grabs him. “I’m sorry but you committed a crime, we need to take you in.”

Storm stops in his tracks and turns slowly to look the cop in the face. “A crime? Exactly what crime did I commit?”

“You attempted to kill yourself…”

“Yeah, well, I won’t press charges.” Storm turns and heads right towards me, but he actually walks
through
me.

He stops. Turning his head from side to side, “Princess?” he whispers.

He knows I’m here. Maybe I’m invisible to him now, but he can feel me. “I’m here, Storm,” I say, though I know he can’t hear me.

The cop grabs Storm, pulls his arms behind his back, and slaps handcuffs around his wrists.

“Princess, if you’re here, you promised. I’m alive. Now
you
need to be. Don’t let me down,” he says as the cops pull him backwards down the hall.

“He didn’t do anything,” Tamlin cries. “Why are you taking him?” She jumps on Storm’s back in an attempt to slow down the cops. “He’s not a criminal. He was trying to save his girlfriend’s life. You can’t arrest him for that.”

The cop holding on to Storm gives Tamlin a smug expression, but the cop that had helped Storm up gives Tamlin a sympathetic, tilted head look. “We just have to see what’s going on. We’re not arresting him.”

“Then why the cuffs?” a nurse asks in Storm’s defense.

“Honor,” Storm yells. “I’m coming right back. These fucking cops can’t keep me.”

Both cops look at Storm. “Taking a guess here,” the nice cop says, “but he doesn’t seem like he’ll be giving us tons of cooperation.”

Tamlin follows them to the elevator and puts her hand on Storm’s bent elbow. “Well I’m coming with you.”

When the elevator doors shuts, Storm hollers, “I’ll be back, princess. I’m coming right back.”

I hear Storm’s words and I close my eyes. Making a vow to fight hard, I finally decide to fight for my life. Fight for Storm. Fight the government. Ethan and I
will
live a normal life free of being a lab rat. I’m at last content with a decision and I know I’m sure of it. There is no doubt in my mind that I want to live amongst some amazing people. People I’m proud to call my friends.

In an effort to get back to my body, I turn and head in the direction I saw them wheeling me. At the farthest end of the hall, a sign on one of the double doors says
Operating Room One.
Through the doors, I see at least ten people in turquoise scrubs standing in a circle. Upon walking further into the room, I see the operating table they are all standing around. Under a ton of bright lights, my body lies open and motionless. I gasp. The sight makes me want to run. A person should not see their own organs spread out like slabs of meat on display across a cold metal tray. My heartless body lays dead and vulnerable, and it scares me to death to see it like that. Fear seeps through every part of me as I think about my heart sitting on that table, tossed aside and left never to beat again.

The room starts to dim as it gets smaller and farther away from me. Reaching out my hand to grab something, anything, I feel the room get hot. I’m burning up. Sweat pours from my brow, but I have no brow for it to fall from.
A ghost doesn’t sweat
.

Suddenly I think,
I’m going to hell
. That’s the only explanation. But I know I’ve done nothing wrong to go to hell.

Unless…

Can loving two boys at the same time earn me a lifetime spot in hell?

I hope not.

Suddenly the room goes pitch black.

My ability to think coherently is quickly diminishing.

I’m panicked.

Out of breath.

Confused.

Gone.

“It’s me, princess.” His hand is warm. “I made it back.” His voice is hoarse. “Thought I was gonna have to
kill
someone.” His laughter…forced.

Storm is near, but I can’t see him. “Storm,” I say, but no words come out.

“Those cops certainly made it difficult for me to get back to you.” He stops talking. “It’s done with now.” He coughs. “I’m here.” Again I hear him cough, but it sounds more like he’s clearing phlegm out of his throat. “Anyway, I’m here.” There’s silence for a while. “You promised...” It sounds like he’s choking back tears.

“You made a promise to me, sweetheart.” I know his thumb is caressing my hand, but I can’t see it. “Please don’t let me down.” His voice hitches and I hear him sniffle.

“Honor, I know I usually call you princess, but I need to be serious here for a minute. You need to recover, Honor. You need to allow your body to accept this new heart.” I hear the congestion in his nose and throat. He
has
been crying.

“I don’t exactly know what’s going on in that mind of yours, sweetheart, but I hope it’s that you want to live.” It feels like both of his hands are on my hand. Maybe his head too, because I feel hair tickling it.

“You have to be strong, angel.” His voice is muffled, probably because he’s talking into my hand. “You need to be brave and courageous and pull through this.” My hands are wet. His tears are hot. “I promise, when you get through this, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll take you away from everyone if you need to be alone, if the pain of others is too much. I promise I won’t run away again, darling.” He must have sat up, because his words are clear and my hand doesn’t tickle anymore. “I just…I knew what I needed to do…y’know…about killing myself so you could have my heart, but…but I also knew that once you found out that it was my heart inside you…well…I know you, and you would have felt guilty the rest of your life.” When he starts sobbing, I want to cry with him. I want to rub the back of his head and tell him it’s all going to be okay. “But I chose to do it anyway, Honor, because I needed you to live.

“I don’t know if you remember being a ghost yesterday or not.” He chuckles underneath his crying. “But I remember. I would have stayed there with you, angel. I would have lived in limbo or in Heaven or in Hell…wherever you were, I’d have gone. But now,” I hear him swallow, “you told me you were getting a heart. So I decided to come back…it’s funny…how many other people could say they were brought back to life not once, but twice? I think I got Jesus beat, don’t you?” I love the sound of his laugh, even if it
is
laced with sadness. “Anyway,” he sniffs, “I’m here to take care of you, but you need to survive in order for me to do that. You need to live, Honor. I need you, princess. I need you real bad.” The sobbing begins again and I just can’t take it. I need to tell him I’m here.
Why can’t I?
“Oh, baby, please,” he says through a rainfall of tears. “Please.”

Storm’s head is back on my hands. I feel his hair. If I could only run my hands through it and comfort him, I could make him feel better. Ease his sorrow.
Why can’t I do that? Why can’t I open my eyes?

A warm tingle creeps up my limbs. Storm is no longer talking. No longer crying. But I feel his hands and head on my hand. He’s still here. Though the room is silent, my mind is screaming to let my body out. I can’t move, but I try anyway. My body feels heavy, like a thousand-pound blanket is covering me. “Storm,” I want to say out loud. “I’m here. I’m trying. Don’t give up on me. I’m coming.”

But no matter how much I try, I can’t get there. My eyes just won’t open. “I’m so sorry, Storm. I’m so sorry,” I say, wishing he could hear me.

I'm not sure how much time has passed, but when Storm lifts his head from my hand, other voices come into play.

“Nothing yet?” my mother asks.

“No.” Storm answers.

“They said it may take up to twenty-four hours for her to wake up.” Dad’s voice is hopeful.

Wake up? So I’m sleeping?
If I’m sleeping, why can I hear them?

“So, Storm.” My father speaks. “Thank you. For what you did. I…I can’t believe you did it…and I can’t believe you are standing here in front of me…but I know you did it for Honor…and well, not many people would have done that.” My dad chuckles. “But, really, don’t do that again. I…I don’t know how Ethan brought you back, but thank goodness he did. I mean, what a mess. I don’t know how we’re going to get around this with the government though.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. The cops had a lot of questions. I…I didn’t say anything, but they’re not done questioning me.”

“I’m sure they’re not,” my dad clears his throat. “I have no idea where Ethan ran off to, though. Tamlin hasn’t seen him. He and Shelby aren’t returning any of her calls.”

“I’m sure he’s okay. He’s used to running…hiding…it’s what we were raised to do. Don’t worry about him, though. He’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, but Shelby’s parents are concerned. I explained that Ethan is a nice guy, but they’re really worried. After what they’ve been through with their daughter, I don’t blame them.”

“Sorry we messed up your world, Mr. Stevens. We should have never come to Jefferson.” Storm sounds sad.

“I’m glad you came,”
I say to myself.

“Well,” my dad says, “I’m glad you came. Honor needed good friends. She’s lived a lonely life prior to you guys being a part of it.”

“Some friends,” Storm says sarcastically. “We’ve only brought her trouble.” Storm lets go of my hand. “Mrs. Stevens, you should be here,” he tells her.

A smaller, cooler hand picks up mine. Mom. I’d know her touch anywhere. Strong, yet gentle. I wish I didn’t have to put her through this, especially after her recent heart attack. Once again, I try to
will myself to move my hand or open my eyes.

Why won’t my brain work? Why won’t it send the signals to my body?

I’m sad all over again for my mom. But not because
she’s
feeling sad. Yes, she is feeling sad, I’m sure, but I don’t feel it. Maybe while I’m
asleep
, I can’t tune into my empathic side. Maybe this is a good thing.

But really not. I want to see my family. I want to hug them. Who I’m really sad for is me, because I am unable to do these things right now. I just wish I were strong enough to force myself awake already.