Текст книги "Pushing the Limits"

Автор книги: Katie McGarry

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Echo

“It’ll work,” Noah purred.

We’d finished studying an hour ago, thanks only to my utter persistence. I sat on his lap in the passenger side of Aires’ car while Isaiah slaved over the open hood. Noah explained his new plan for getting into our files while driving my body to the brink of explosion with caresses and kisses. The asinine plot had plenty of holes, but his seduction fogged my mind and kept me from voicing my opinion, until now.

“You honestly believe that Mrs. Collins is going to fall for it?” I asked. “First off, she’ll probably tell you to wait or she’ll get it for you Wednesday or she’ll see right through you and know we’re up to something.”

“She wants nothing more than for me to go to college and if I tell her I’m going to take the ACT she’ll shit her pants. She’s been dying for me to apply for late registration.”

Noah trailed kisses down my neck, interfering with my decision-making skills. I opened the door and slid out of the car. March had roared in like a lion, bringing severe but warm weather. I stood close enough to the edge of the open garage door that a few warm raindrops hit my shoes. Noah didn’t crowd me with his body, like he normally would. Instead, he leaned against the garage door frame, away from me.

We’d failed at our latest attempt last week to get into our files. Our high failure rate only pushed us harder to succeed. Every now and then, I wondered if the only reason we were together was because of our joint goal of stealing those files. At times, it was the only thing we talked about, but then I’d see the warmth in his brown eyes and I’d know—he cared.

“If this works, which I’m not saying it will, I think you should go for your file first,” I said. “I’m sorry the last name didn’t help.” He’d tried every avenue available—phone books, Google, Facebook—and had found nothing on Jacob and Tyler’s foster parents.

“No. I saw your dad and Mrs. Collins speaking privately this morning. Something’s going down and we need to figure out what.” Noah stared out into the rain, looking more like a Calvin Klein underwear model than a down-and-out foster kid. “Besides, I think we’ll have a good crack at both files since you’ll be doing hypnosis on Thursday. When I lure Mrs. Collins out tomorrow, you take a crack at yours then I’ll take a crack at mine on Thursday.”

“It’s not hypnosis. Its relaxation therapy and I haven’t agreed to it yet.”

“It’s perfect. You and Mrs. Collins will be in the sickroom and the office staff will be gone for the day. Besides, you said last week that Mrs. Collins thinks you’re on the verge of a huge breakthrough.”

The rain pounded against the roof of the garage. I glanced over to Isaiah and Beth. I hated seeing her perched on Aires’ favorite tool bench, but I liked the spark she put in Isaiah’s eye.

How odd would it be to finally put the pieces together? To understand why I kept painting the night sky over and over again. To understand why my mother had told me bedtime stories while I bled on her floor. Maybe the nightly terrors would finally end and I could sleep a full restful night for the first time in two years.

But what if it didn’t work? Mrs. Collins had said she thought my mind was ready to remember a little more—with appropriate prompting. That tidbit of information sent Ashley into a newsmagazine conversation binge about how we should try hypnotherapy again. It turned out she had already done the research, found another hypnotherapist and checked his credentials. Mrs. Collins knew the therapist so she was okay with it, yet not thrilled. Wanting to make Ashley happy, my father reluctantly agreed, and like always, I agreed by not disagreeing.

Besides, we weren’t going after the full memory. Instead, our goal was to see if I could remember some of the moments before my mom dragged me to hell.

Supposedly, this relaxation therapy would be different than the one that cracked my mind the summer after the incident. Mrs. Collins said that therapist was inexperienced and pressed too hard, too fast. Thursday, Ashley would bring in a reputable “professional.” Mrs. Collins assured me over and over again that she would be there to watch the session and that I would be safe—that my mind wouldn’t fracture again.

So far, she’d been right about most things, but … I whispered so no one else could hear, “What if my dad’s right? What if my mind can’t handle the truth?”

“Baby, you’ve got enough strength and tenacity to take down drug dealers. You’ll be fine.”

I wished I had Noah’s confidence and faith in me. Nothing ever shook him and for some reason, he thought I could climb mountains then juggle them. Someday, he was going to be very disappointed when he saw me for who I really was—a weak, pathetic person.

“Where’s your dad?” Noah asked. “He’s usually home by now.” Ever since my dad figured out that Noah and Isaiah spent every Monday afternoon in our garage, he made it a point to be home from work as soon as humanly possible. He may have accepted Noah as my boyfriend, but he didn’t like said boyfriend being alone with me.

My foot tapped nervously. Dad’s strange behavior had taken a turn onto Bizarre Boulevard. “The Neon didn’t make it through detailing. He’s picking up my new used car today.”

I’d loved that car. Aires and I car shopped for weeks, trying to find the right combination of deal and longevity. When I finally bought it, we picked up Mom to celebrate with a trip to Dairy Queen for chocolate malts. Good thing Isaiah had promised to fix Aires’ car. Otherwise, I would have curled into a ball and cried over another loss of Aires … and my mom.

I caught Beth sending me a death glare while listening to my and Noah’s conversation. We talked openly in front of her and Isaiah, but we never flat-out mentioned my issues. Noah considered them family and trusted them. I trusted Noah and liked Isaiah. I tolerated Beth.

“Gym was interesting today.” Beth lips turned up into the devil’s grin. Very rarely did she speak directly to me. Noah’s pterodactyls began feeding on my stomach lining.

“Really?” I asked, meaning, please go back to ignoring me.

“I got to listen to your little cheerleader friend, Grace, make fun of you. I have to say, it’s the first time she ever said anything to make me laugh.”

Beth’s words confirmed what I already knew in my heart: that publicly dating Noah had pushed Grace over the edge and destroyed the fragile remains of our friendship. If Beth meant to gut me open like a fish, then she’d succeeded. My stomach hurt like the night Luke rammed into me.

Noah pushed off the frame and stalked toward Beth. “Son of a bitch, Beth. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“With me? You’re the one hanging with Ms. Crazy.” Beth jumped off the tool bench, accidentally hitting a glass full of washers. It rolled toward the edge of the bench.

“Beth, grab it!” I yelled.

She reached out, but her fingers clutched air as it rolled off the edge and shattered on the floor. The sound of glass shattering vibrated in my head. Images flickered and the black hole in my brain grew and rotated. A fuzzy picture forced its way forward as hammers pounded sharp nails into my skull.

I lay on the beige carpet of my mother’s living room floor. Colored glass surrounded me, and blood. Lots and lots of blood. Pain sliced and seared my arms. I flipped to escape it, only to scream in agony as something sharp slashed my back.

My eyes fixed on the front door. I had to get there. I had to make it outside. Ignore the pain. Fight through the fear. I rolled to my side, crying out as glass dug into my knees and arms. Glass crunched under my weight. Every large chunk embedded in my muscles sliced like hot coals and every tiny shard knifed its edges into my skin. I crawled my way forward. Exhaustion weighed every movement, my mind unclear and my stomach uneasy. Oh, God, where was he? He said he was coming. Oh, God, please, Daddy, please come.

“Echo!”

I blinked rapidly to find myself crouched on the floor of the garage with my hands grasping my head. My heart thundered and every part of my body shook.

Noah sank beside me, eyes wide, face full of shock. He tucked my hair behind my ear and spoke in a low, soothing tone. “Baby, what happened? Are you in pain? Are you dizzy?”

My eyes darted around, sensing danger. Isaiah and Beth gave me the crazy stare. Noah framed my face with his hands, returning my attention to him. “Please, baby.”

I swallowed in an attempt to help my dry mouth. “Stained glass. That was my mom’s newest project.”

Understanding warmed his eyes. “You remembered something.”

Lightning flashed and crackled in the sky. My muscles jumped past my skin. Noah drew me closer to him. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

The back of my neck burned and my teeth chattered with my shaking body. I sniffed to keep away the tears. If I felt like this when I remembered a flash, what would happen if I remembered the whole thing? Would I break?

Hot tears pooled at the edge of my eyes and I swiped at them with the back of my sleeve. “I’m tired of having nightmares.” I’m tired of wondering if I’m losing my mind.

Noah stroked my hair and his hold on me tightened. “We’ll figure this out, Echo. I swear we’ll figure it out.”

NOAH

“I wish I could sleep with you,” Echo’s sexy-as-hell drowsy voice mumbled through the phone.

“Say the word, baby, and I’ll rock your world.” I’d gotten in from work a little after midnight and decided to give Echo a call. I sat on the dryer, giving Beth and Isaiah the private time they both claimed they didn’t need. Isaiah pretended their make-out session never happened and Beth did the same. The good news was, Beth didn’t bolt to her mom’s or let some other guy use her. The bad news was, Isaiah hurt like hell. For the moment, I tried to forget my best friends’ problems and focused on remembering Echo’s delicious Cinnabon smell instead of the basement’s damp, musty stench.

My little nymph’s laughter filled my soul. “You’re so bad. I’m talking about sleep. Like real sleep. Not sex.”

“We don’t need to have sex. There are other things I can do to help you sleep.”

“You’re impossible,” she said over the rustle of sheets. “You make me feel safe, Noah. Maybe if I felt safe I could sleep.”

Was that why Jacob had night terrors? Did he not feel safe? “I’ll sneak into your room one night and we’ll give it a shot. Sleep only, I promise.”

“My dad would kill you and then lock me up in a convent.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“So….” Echo said in an extremely light tone. “I told you the ACT story wouldn’t work.” She giggled, enjoying being right.

Ten minutes into Echo’s therapy session, I’d walked into Mrs. Collins’s office and announced my sudden interest in college. I was right about one thing. Mrs. Collins did shit her pants. Instead of jumping up to get the information, she spoke rapidly, telling me she needed time to gather crap. She then handed me an appointment card for Thursday, right after school and moments before Echo’s hypnosis appointment. “And you love being right, don’t you?”

“Shhh. I’m basking in my moment.” Echo yawned loudly. Her nightmares had increased in frequency and terror thanks to her therapy sessions. My gut told me she slept only a handful of hours each night, forcing herself to stay awake to avoid the dreams.

My mind wandered to Jacob and his nightmares. “If you knew the cause of your nightmares, would you talk to Mrs. Collins about it?”

“Are you high?” She didn’t even wait for my answer of no. “She knows the cause of my nightmares, but to answer your question, yes. The lady is crazy, but I think she knows what she’s doing. Well … kind of … a lot more than the other idiots I’ve seen. I don’t know. I guess I kind of like her.” Her voice slurred toward the end.

“Go to sleep, baby. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

Echo yawned again. “I’ll get off, but I think I’m going to read for a while. Love you.” She hung up, knowing I wouldn’t say it back. I wished I had her courage.

“Tell me you broke up with her,” Beth called out.

I hopped off the dryer to find Beth and Isaiah curled up on the bed watching television. “Why would I do that?”

“Because she’s crazy. And before you defend her, remember I saw her little breakdown.”

I took off my shirt, tossed it in my laundry basket and settled down on the couch to sleep. First thing I planned on buying when I got my own place was a bed. A big king-size bed with fluffy pillows and sheets.

“Don’t you dare ignore me! Isaiah, tell Noah he’s breaking some sort of guy code. For instance, you don’t date crazy chicks.”

Too easy. I opened my mouth to shove it back at Beth, but Isaiah stopped me. “Don’t, man. Just don’t.”

I picked up an old stained pillow and tucked it under my head. “Quit being a bitch.”

“Thanks,” Isaiah mumbled. Beth hated being called a bitch. But when the shoe fit …

“Whatever. Keep telling yourself you’re not dating Sybil. Does she have different names for her personalities?”

“Tone it down, Beth,” Isaiah said.

This needed to stop. The harder Beth pushed at me and the more I defended Echo, the greater the odds of Beth laying into her. She had enough shit going down without having to deal with my loudmouthed, non-blood-related sister. If she ever found out, Echo would be beyond pissed, but I had to do it—for everyone’s sanity. I swung an arm over my face, hoping once I said it, I could finally go to sleep. “At the end of her sophomore year, she was attacked. Echo’s mind repressed the memories and Mrs. Collins is trying to help her remember. What you saw in the garage was her remembering a sliver of that night. Give her a break.”

A laugh track played on the television, followed by a smartass comment by an actor. I waited for Beth’s shitty comeback. I readjusted my arm and caught her horrified expression. Isaiah smoothed hair away from her face and whispered something to her. She blinked back to life. “I’m sorry, Noah,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“… AND I PUT SOME information in there regarding the University of Louisville and the University of Kentucky, though the state will pick up the tab for any state school. They both have admirable architecture programs.” Mrs. Collins took her first breath in five minutes. The afternoon sun made her office into a prison hot box.

“Architecture?” I checked her eyes to see if she’d taken a recent hit.

“Architecture.” She smiled brightly.

I halfheartedly flipped through the mountain of brochures sitting on my lap. My father had been an architect. He designed the Habitat houses we’d built, even let me help him with it. I began to read the requirements for admission. What was I doing? I shut the folder.

“Echo trusts you,” I said. Not sure where that came from, but I needed to redirect myself from paths I couldn’t visit.

Her eyes softened, but she quickly put on her puppy game face. “Now, now, I already told you we won’t discuss Echo.” She swiveled back and forth in her chair. “I take that back. We can discuss anything that involves your relationship with Echo. I’ll be honest. I’m dying to know the details.”

I didn’t gossip, especially with my therapist. But Echo had looked exhausted today and I thought she may have fallen asleep during calculus. If her nightmares were that bad, what was life like for Jacob? “I’m not sure if I trust you. I have a shitty track record with adults.”

“Yes. You do. What’s troubling you, Noah?”

I ran a hand over my face and swallowed. What if I was wrong about her? She could destroy Jacob and also my chances of getting my family back together.

Mrs. Collins leaned her arms on the desk. “I swear to you, whatever you say will stay between us unless you tell me differently.”

“Do you believe in God?” I asked.

The question caught her off guard, but she answered, “I do.”

“Swear it to your God.”

“I swear to God that I’ll keep whatever you say private unless you direct me to do otherwise.”

Damn her to hell if she lied to me. “Jacob started the fire.”

She sucked in a breath and quickly regained her composure. “That’s not what the report from the fire marshal said. It was ruled an accident.”

“It was an accident. He didn’t mean to do it.” I kept eye contact. She had to believe me. Jacob would never intentionally hurt anyone.

She rubbed her eyes and shook her head as if trying to dispel what I had said. “Are you sure? Maybe he misunderstood something and only thinks he started it.”

“He started it. But it’s my fault.” The guilt of my decisions that night would hound me forever. “Instead of staying home to camp out with my brothers, I went to the county fair with some girl. At the time that date seemed so important, I …” The guilt I tried so hard to bury underneath layers and layers of avoidance rose to the surface in the form of nausea. I fought to keep myself from dry heaving.

I shoved the emotion back down. This wasn’t about me. “It doesn’t matter.” I wiped my nose as anger began to seep into my bloodstream. If I couldn’t make it through this session without crying, I didn’t deserve my brothers. I cleared my throat.

“Mom told Jacob we’d do the campout the next Friday instead, but Jacob was pissed. After Mom and Dad put them to bed, Jacob woke Tyler up to make s’mores. Mom had a candle in the hall bathroom. I guess she left the matches out. Jacob lit the candle, they roasted marshmallows and then they went downstairs to sleep in the living room. Dad had set up the tent there before he knew I was going out.”

Mrs. Collins held her hands to her face as if she was praying. Her eyes glistened. “The fire started in the hall bathroom. They assumed one of your parents lit the candle and forgot to blow it out. They had no idea it was your brother.”

She knew the rest. My parents died in their bedroom and I came home to a roaring fire. “Jacob told me in the hospital and I promised never to tell anyone.” A promise I’d now failed to keep.

“Why?” Her exasperation was clear. “Why didn’t you tell someone? A social worker could have helped him.”

I welcomed the familiar edge of betrayal and anger. “They separated us. Who would you have trusted?” Now to complete my own betrayal. “Help my brother.”

She wiped her eyes. “I will. I promise.” She checked the clock, our therapy session over.

Having nothing left to say, I stood, shoved my arms in my jacket and prepared myself to see Echo on the other side of that door.

“And Noah,” Mrs. Collins said. “I plan on helping you, too.” I didn’t want help. I didn’t need help, but I wasn’t going to argue with the woman who could save my brother. I opened the door to find Echo leaning against the counter and staring at the floor, her foot tapping uncontrollably.

Echo

Noah looked drained. His dark eyes were heavy and his shoulders slumped forward. He closed the door to Mrs. Collins’s office behind him and I met him halfway. “Are you okay?”

He gave me a halfhearted smile and pulled me into his body. “I hope I’m doing the right thing.” He clutched me tighter.

I rested my head on his shoulder and tried to reassure him by rubbing his back. “I’m sure you are.” He worried about Jacob and the possibility of trusting Mrs. Collins. “You’d never do anything to harm your brothers.”

“Thanks.” He kissed my hair and came close to squeezing the breath out of me. “I needed to hear that.”

We stood still for several seconds before he released his death grip. “I’m going to wander the hallway to give you time to set up in the sickroom, then I’ll sneak into her office.”

This sounded oddly like breaking and entering, moving our plans into the land of illegal. My stomach shifted uneasily. “I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t. I don’t want you to get caught in her office.” Or get in trouble or get thrown out of school or go to jail.

Noah shot me his mischievous grin. “Have I ever mentioned you’re paranoid?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Several times.”

He kissed me as Mrs. Collins opened her door. “I’m pretending that I’m not seeing this.”

Noah winked at me before he left the office. Mrs. Collins grinned from ear to ear, wagging her imaginary tail. “You two are a very cute couple. Is he taking you to prom?”

What a very strange question. “I don’t know. Prom’s over a month away. Anyway, Noah doesn’t give me the impression he does dances.”

“He came to the Valentine’s Dance.” She walked past me and down the hallway of the main office to the sickroom, beckoning with her fingers for me to follow.

“I think that was a one-time deal.” I followed, reluctantly. “You know, I never agreed to this.”

She laughed—actually laughed at me. “Oh, Echo. You’re going to, if only on the principle that I’m asking you to do it. Your authority issues sure come in handy at times.”

I stood in the middle of the sickroom and shoved my hands into my pockets. “Doesn’t that break some sort of therapist code? You know, using my issues against me.”

“Possibly.” She gave me another smile. “Echo, this is Dr. Reed.”

A.K.A. the relaxation therapist Ashley had handpicked. The short man stood and shook my hand. “How are you doing today, Echo?”

Terrible. “Fine.”

“You’ll be more relaxed if you lie down,” said Mrs. Collins.

It took every ounce of strength to not immediately hop onto the bed. My fingers drummed nervously in my pockets and my heart thundered. I’d show her.

She tilted her head. “I think Noah’s rubbing off on you. Now that you’ve proven to me you’re overcoming being a pushover, which I’ll take credit for, would you please lie down?”

Since she asked nicely and my heart surged like a heart attack … “Sure.”

Mrs. Collins dimmed the lights while I lay down on the uncomfortable, plastic-covered bed. A nice thick comforter lay at the end and a fluffy pillow at the head. I cocked an eyebrow.

“I wanted you to be comfortable.”

A couple of candles sat on the counter next to the sink. “Are you going to light candles?”

“I was.” She sighed. “But I’m not feeling very candlish right now. Did you tell your father that we could be a while? I don’t want him upset with me when you don’t come home at your normal time.”

Now I sighed. “Yes. Mr. Overbearing is fully aware and I’m under direct orders to call him the moment I’m done.”

She chuckled. “Me, too. Mr. Overbearing, hmmm? It definitely has a ring.” Mrs. Collins lost her playful tone as she spoke to Dr. Reed. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Grabbing the comforter and fluffing the pillow, I snuggled down like a bear preparing for hibernation. If I was really going to do this, I might as well be warm.

Dr. Reed started off with some breathing and meditative exercises. After a while, my mind began to wander and his voice became this soothing, magnetic sound. “Tell me when you last felt safe, Echo. Really, really safe.”

“Noah makes me feel safe.”

I followed the smooth and reassuring voice as I imagined Noah’s warm, strong body and sweet musky scent enveloping me in his safe protective bubble.

“Dig deep, Echo. Very, very deep.” He continued to calmly speak. I burrowed deeper into the covers and listened to his voice prod my mind to discover that one time I felt safe. Memories flipped like a slide show until I found one that warmed my heart.

“Aires made me feel safe.” He hid with me in the closet several times when my mother suffered from a particularly energized manic episode. By the time Aires found me, my father had taken care of my mother, but I refused to leave the closet. He’d stay with me and read stories by flashlight until I fell asleep.

“Ashley.” Funny, my voice sounded like my own and the world seemed far away. As a child, the sight of Ashley meant games, warm baths and dinners, normal bedtime stories and nighttime songs.

“Daddy.” My protector. My savior. He convinced my mother to take her medication and she did. For him. She loved him. He made us a family and during those dark moments when my mother’s illness threatened to rip us apart, he held me. Like in the hospital, when I couldn’t sleep, terrified of the first wave of nightmares, he lay with me in bed and held me, whispering over and over again how much he loved me.

The scene in my mind altered. I was safe. Somehow I knew that, but this … something was off … wrong …

Moonlight bathed my mother’s living room, reflecting off thousands of pieces of glass scattering the floor.

Warm liquid trickled down my arms and I fought to breathe through the sobs of pain. Burning pain. Tearing pain. Throbbing pain. Every muscle screamed and my throat ran raw with each sensation. Struggling to keep upright on my hands and knees, I compelled myself forward. I couldn’t let my eyes close. I couldn’t.

But my eyelids were heavy and so were my muscles. I could rest. For a few seconds. Yes, I could rest.

I gave in to the weight of my body, collapsing onto the glass-filled serenity of the floor. If I didn’t move, the glass could no longer shred me to pieces. I breathed with the slow steady rhythm of my heart and let my mind wander to other thoughts beyond pain and blood. Sleep. Yes. I needed sleep.

No! I forced my eyes open and blinked rapidly to focus. Edges of the clear glass now shone with red—blood. My blood.

“Daddy!” I whispered. Daddy should be here by now. I sent out a plea in my head, begging him to somehow hear me and know….

I focused on the door, but there was no way I could make it. Not now. My legs were dead to me—no control, no movement.

My arms. I could still move my arms, but the pain. “Oh, God!” The pain.

“I’m so sorry, Echo. I never should have let you stand up, but the pain will be over soon.” Ignoring the glass, my mother lay down beside me, settling her head on the floor inches from mine. Her wide, glazed-over eyes held a hint of concern.

“Don’t cry.” Her callused fingers wiped the tears off my face. “We’ll be with Aires soon and then there will be no more pain or sadness. Only joy and happiness and we’ll be able to paint– you and I—and Aires will be able to tinker with as many cars as he wants.”

I hardly recognized my own voice, hoarse and shaky. “I don’t want to die, Momma. Please, don’t let me die.”

“Shhh,” she cooed. “Don’t think of it as dying.” She yawned and her eyelids fluttered. “We’re going to sleep and when we wake, we’ll be with your brother again.”

She smiled and I sobbed, “Oh, God, Daddy.”

My stomach sank. I’d never see my dad again. My father, who was supposed to pick me up, my father, who I prayed over and over again would walk through that door as promised. Please, Daddy, please. I need you.

“I’ll tell you a story, just like I did when you were a baby. Cassandra had a beautiful daughter named Andromeda….”

I opened my eyes and blinked several times. Mrs. Collins stood in the door frame and Dr. Reed sat in the chair next to the sickbed. I kicked off the comforter. Sweat dripped down the side of my face. Blood hammered my head and my heart thrashed in the same rhythm. My skin stung as I peeled myself off the bed and my body felt light after experiencing the heaviness of the memory.

Cold air slapped me and disoriented my body and mind. I had fallen and shattered one of the stained glass windows my mother had propped in the living room, but why? Was it an accident? It couldn’t have been, because she seemed so calm and peaceful … resolved. But she’d apologized.

“Daddy,” I whispered. Tears stung my eyes and I immediately sought Mrs. Collins for an explanation. There had to be an explanation because he wouldn’t have left me there—never. My throat closed and swallowing wouldn’t open it up. “Where was he?”

Mrs. Collins said, “I think we’ve done enough for today.”

I waved my hand in the air, refusing that answer. “No. No. I remembered something and now it’s your turn.”

“I understand your frustration, but your mind needs to handle this slowly.”

A strange uneasiness clawed at my heart and everything within me twisted and dropped. A single word tore at my heart … betrayal. “Where was my father!”

From behind Mrs. Collins came my father’s voice. “I forgot to pick you up.”