The Mind Readers (11 page)

She wasn’t even going to deny
these Mind Readers existed, wasn’t going to pretend they were dangerous. Which
meant everything Lewis had told me was probably true. I released a harsh laugh.
I’d asked her plenty of times about my ability. Maybe not recently. But I had
years ago, before I’d given up that she would respond. “When I was a child I—”

“You were too young then.”

My fingers curled into the back
of the chair. Her voice was calm again, as if she was in complete control and
it made me furious. “Of course, you always have an excuse.” The same words
she’d used on me whenever I got in trouble.

Why didn’t you tell me my father was murdered by SPI
? I was so
angry, I couldn’t say the words aloud.
 

She was quiet for a moment,
quiet and still. But I knew she’d heard. I’d surprised her. We’d never chatted
via our mental voices before. “You didn’t need to know.”

“He’s my father!”

“He’s dead.” She spun around
toward me. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and a bit wild looking. As scared
as I was, I almost felt sorry for her. She was out of her element here. She
sure as heck wasn’t expecting me to talk back.
 

“He’s dead, gone,” she said in a
softer voice. “There’s no use in rehashing the past.”

The words killed me. Like a
knife to the chest, they were actually painful. “I need to know the truth, to
understand what I am, what I’m capable of. I’m tired of feeling like there’s
something wrong with me.”

She closed her eyes, showing her
first signs of sympathy. “I’ve never said there’s something wrong with you.”

“No, you just made me hide my
ability, made me feel like I was a freak.”

She opened her eyes, her gaze
pleading. “Because of other people, not because of you!”

I released a harsh laugh and
paced across the small kitchen. My skin felt too tight, my heart racing to go
somewhere…anywhere. “Yeah, explain that to a five year old who has been
abandoned by her mother.”

“Your mom was addicted to drugs,
Cameron, you know that had nothing to do with you.”

I paused. The truth hurt.

So Grandma had no problem
dishing the dirt on Mom, telling me her every dark secret and repeatedly
reminding me, but wouldn’t even tell me where Dad was buried. “What about when
I was little and you made us move away from Michigan?”

“I was protecting you.”

“I’d only told one person—”

“And she told five others,
including the cops who showed up—”

“And you made me feel horrible!
Like I couldn’t be trusted! We could have lied to them, brushed it off. They
would have believed us.”

“Like they believed my parents?”

I froze, confused.

“Everything I’ve done is because
of what I’ve experienced. They tested me, Cameron, when the government found
out what I could do, they took me away from my parents and kept me locked away.
They tested me until I finally realized that if I pretended I couldn’t read
minds, they’d release me. But it was too late, my parents were already dead.
Killed in some freak accident.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered,
stunned she was finally telling me the truth. “But you can’t keep me locked
away because of what happened to you.”

We fell silent, both of us fighting
our anger. She had the stubborn look to her gaze once more. I wanted to scream
in frustration. Why couldn’t she understand? She’d made me feel like I was a
freak. She’d kept the truth from me. She wouldn’t keep this from me too.
 

She snorted, a sarcastic laugh.
“So, what will you do, rush out and help people like some damn superhero?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“That’s what got your father
killed!”

She’d stunned me into silence.
Was she lying in some pathetic attempt to make me afraid? If so, it had the
opposite effect. Lewis had been right, my father was a hero. He wasn’t a
coward, like me. “And so I’m supposed to stay here, never say a word, let
innocent people die?”

“Better them than you.”

I shook my head, ashamed of her.
I didn’t want to feel guilty; I didn’t want to grow up afraid, like her. “I
can’t stand by anymore and let horrible things happen to people I care about.
Maybe you can, but I can’t.”

She pressed her hands to her
temples, her entire body trembling. She looked weak and pale under the
brilliant light of the rising sun coming in through the small window above the
sink. “You’re not some superhero, Cameron. A bullet can kill you as well as anyone.”

“I know,” I said, softening my
voice. “But I’m leaving, for me. Please understand that. You could come with.”

She slammed her fists onto the
tabletop. “You will not leave this house! Until you’re eighteen, I control
you!”

“Not anymore.” She wouldn’t understand.
Not now, maybe never. “I have to, they’re coming for us.”
 

The fury seemed to drain from
her face along with any color. “What are you talking about?” Before I could
answer, she turned toward the stove, obviously intent on ignoring me.

“Lewis told me about S.P.I.,
whoever they are, using people like us.”

She turned and pointed her
spatula at me. “As long as we stay out of trouble, they’ll leave us alone.”

I moved around the table.
Everything felt oddly off balance. The tides had turned and Grandma wasn’t in
control. She seemed to know less about S.P.I. than I did. “Will they? Are you
sure about that?”

“Of course.” She tossed a plate
of bacon onto the table.

“What if you’re wrong?”

She looked directly at me, her
hazel gaze hard. “We are safe, Cameron. Aaron is only causing trouble where
there is none!”

“You know Aaron?”

“Of course I do. He talked your
father into using his abilities when he shouldn’t have. They were going to save
the world,” she said, her voice bitter.

My determination wavered. Could
I trust her? I should, shouldn’t I? She was my grandma after all. But she’d
also kept the truth from me about my father and about what I could do. “Tell me
you’ll teach me how to block my thoughts, how to…how to show people mental
images. Tell me you’ll teach me everything you know.”

“You don’t need to learn,” she
insisted. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“Is that what you told my dad?”

She went pale and I knew I’d
gone too far. I hadn’t meant to say the words, I hadn’t meant to be so
cruel.
 

“How dare you,” she hissed.

It was too late. I couldn’t take
the words back. Unless I apologized, our tumultuous relationship would be over.
My pride wouldn’t let me apologize because deep down, I did blame her for
everything that had happened. I turned and on shaking legs made my way to the
hall where I’d left my suitcase. And I told myself, as I moved through the
kitchen, that I was doing this not only for me, but for her.

“You are not leaving!” she
screamed.

My heart lurched. I didn’t dare
look her in the eyes. I refused to respond because I knew I couldn’t. I was
afraid she’d scare me into staying. It was five minutes until eight. If I was
going to do it, I needed to leave now. I moved around her and made my way to
the front door, my suitcase wheels whizzing over the hardwood floors.
 

“I’m sorry, Grandma.” My voice
caught as I fought the tears. “But I’m done hiding.”

I pushed the front door wide,
the hinges screeching, and stepped onto the stoop. I fully expected her to stop
me. She didn’t. The cool morning air eased the sweat gathering between my
shoulder blades.

“You don’t think it’s insane to
leave with a guy you barely know?”

I paused for a moment as my
grandmother’s words hit me. She was right, I knew that, but couldn’t seem to
care. Lewis’s silver car was parked directly in front of our home; Lewis
leaning against the hood. He called to me, not mentally or verbally, but
something pulled me toward him. The dark blue sweater he wore stretched across
his broad shoulders. He’d come for me. My heart leapt with joy. He pushed away
from the car, and when our gazes met, a wide smile spread across his handsome
face. I rushed down the steps, my suitcase thumping after me. I didn’t stop
until I was only a foot from him. Fisting my hands, I resisted the urge to
throw my arms around his neck.

“You’re coming,” he stated the
obvious.

“Yes.”

Don’t go, Cameron, please.
Grandma’s voice whispered through my
mind. It was the first time she’d asked me for anything and for a moment I
paused, her plea stinging.

Indecision held me captive.
Could I really leave and take the guilt? Could I stay? I’d die here, maybe not
physically, but mentally and emotionally I’d die.
 

“Cameron, are you ready?” Lewis
asked, taking my bag.

“Yes,” I whispered. Without
looking back, I slid my hand into his.

********

For the two hour drive to the
harbor we sat in relative silence. Lewis let me stew in my thoughts and
emotions and I was glad for it. I wasn’t ready to talk. I felt guilty as hell,
but I refused to cry. I was doing what was best for me and for Grandma. Someone
had to learn how to protect us.

Grandma had practically admitted
that S.P.I. existed and I knew the reason she’d made me hide my powers was
because she didn’t want to bring attention to us. She was afraid. I could understand
that, but I was my own person and I couldn’t accept that for myself. And as the
minutes ticked by and the distance between me and my old life grew, my guilt
faded. When we were on the ferry that would take us to Haddock Island where
Aaron lived, Lewis finally spoke.

He nudged me with his shoulder,
a playful push. “You okay?” He didn’t move away, but kept close, his body warm
next to mine as we leaned against the railing watching the main land become
smaller and smaller. I wanted to go. I was doing the right thing. So why, as
the land became a blur, did I feel the stirrings of panic?

“Cameron?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m fine,” I said a
little too quickly.
 

The wind tossed his hair and
gave a flush to his cheeks. My body practically tingled when he was near. He
was cute. Gorgeous. Realizing he had probably just read that thought, heat shot
to my cheeks and I looked away. “I can’t do this.”

I felt his body stiffen. “Cam,
you’re doing the right thing, what your father would have wanted.”

“No, not that.” My embarrassment
grew. We’d never discussed any feelings between us, if there were any. Heck,
maybe I was the only one thinking of romance. But surely he’d read my thoughts
and knew how I felt. Wouldn’t he have shot me down by now? Unless he got some
perverse pleasure out of seeing me lust after him. “No,” I said softly. “I mean
I can’t stand here while you read my thoughts.”

He laughed, those gorgeous blue
eyes turning into half-moons as he looked out at the waves. I frowned and
shoved him in the shoulder. “Not funny and it’s not fair.” I hated this, but I
certainly knew how Anne must have felt. “It’s…embarrassing.”

He looked at me, his eyes
sparkling. As much as I wanted to be angry at him, all I could think about was
how pure his gaze was, blue like the ocean churning below.

“Cam, I turned off my
abilities.”

“Turned off?”

He shrugged, wrapping his hands
around the wood railing. His blue windbreaker rustled in the breeze. “Well,
only with you.”

“I don’t understand.”

He leaned super close, his
breath warm on my cheek. “I’m not reading your thoughts.”

I wasn’t sure if I believed him,
but with him so close, I didn’t really care. “But, how? I’ve been able to dim
people’s thoughts by focusing on other things, but they still seep in.”

He turned, leaning his back
against the railing. “Just one of the many things you’ll soon learn.”

I gazed out at the water, silent
as I wondered if what he said was true. There really wasn’t a reason for him to
lie. “Why?” I finally asked.

He glanced at me. “Hmm?”

“Why’d you stop reading my
mind?”

He looked thoughtful for a
moment, and then shrugged. “It didn’t feel…right.” He turned toward the railing
again and clasped his hands together. There was a flush to his cheeks, as if he
was embarrassed to be talking about his emotions. Such a stereotypical
guy.
 

The horn on the boat released a
deep bellow, indicating the shore was drawing near. My excitement flared,
sending my stomach into a nervous fit. I hadn’t wanted to sit inside on the
lower deck as I’d needed to keep my mind clear of the other passenger’s
thoughts. But that meant I was chilled to the bone and eager to get on dry
land.

“There it is,” he said, pointing
toward the shore.

I leaned closer to the railing,
the wind pulling my hair from its ponytail and tugging at my jacket. There, on
a sloping green hill that was apparently the highest point of the island, stood
a massive brick mansion, even more ornate and intimidating than it had been in
my mind. Only a few trees dotted the landscape, but the lack of foliage didn’t
take away from the savage beauty of the place.

“Wow,” I whispered, in awe.

Any unease about leaving Grandma
was gone. I felt my very life changing as that boat docked and the small
village came into view. Clapboard homes lined the streets and boats of various
colors and sizes docked along the shore. It was a tourist town in the summer,
Lewis had told me, a place where people vacationed to go whale watching,
fishing and shopping.

Today the island was quiet. Most
of the residents had left their summer homes boarded up and empty. The few
residents who remained were safely ensconced, bundled up against the chill
afternoon wind. But for the few squawking gulls, it was quiet. So incredibly,
blessedly quiet of thoughts!