Mind Readers: The Mind Readers - Part 23
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Part 23

I didn't bother to look at the man who would steal my memories. Instead, I kept my gaze pinned to Lewis, even as he stepped away from me, his face shifting once more into that hard, emotionless man I didn't know. It was over. Our moment gone. Lewis gripped my arm, his attention forward as he marched me to Aaron's study.

With its warm colors, the room was just as comfortable as I remembered. Leather chairs next to a large desk. Book shelves and a large fireplace. And I remembered my first night here-the dreams that I thought were being fulfilled-and I felt like such an idiot for believing.

Everything in this room was the same, except for the large wooden chair in the middle of the floor. A chair much like the chair Maddox had been tied to. Even though there was nothing particularly scary about that chair, it had me sweating.

"Pay attention," Aaron said, his gaze pinned to Maddox. "Because you'll be next."

Maddox didn't look concerned as two guards pushed him into the sofa, and then trained their guns at his head. The man merely growled low in his throat. I wished I could be as defiant. Instead, I was shaking as I was pushed gently into the chair.

"Tie her up," Aaron demanded.

"No!" I shot from the chair, desperately seeking Lewis.

Strong hands gripped my upper arms, drawing me to a stop. Lewis averted his gaze, his face flushed red. Lewis, the man who supposedly loved me, didn't protest as two guards roughly jerked me back into the chair. He didn't protest when I cried out, twisting and turning in a lame attempt to break their hold. And he sure as h.e.l.l didn't protest as one guard held my arms while the other tied my legs to the chair.

"No!" I screamed, throwing a fit Emily would have been proud of. "You get off tying up a helpless girl?"

The two goons didn't reply, merely backed up a s.p.a.ce, transferring their attention to Maddox, who had gone slightly pale, perhaps remembering his own time locked away and realizing he would be next. I met his gaze, hoping...heck, I didn't know what I was hoping. He was as helpless as I was.

"Sorry, Sweetheart," he said softly and I knew he was apologizing for not being able to help. For some reason the words made tears sting my eyes. No, I wouldn't cry in front of them.

"It's for your own protection," Aaron said, his face wavering in and out of focus through my salty tears. "I need you to keep as still as possible."

I narrowed my eyes into a glare, not caring that the movement sent hot tears down my cheeks. Vaguely, I was aware of the door opening, of Deborah stepping inside with a small case in hand, but I had eyes only for Aaron. I seethed hatred and hoped he felt it. I wouldn't let him know that nausea churned in my stomach, bile rising in my throat.

"Is this what my father would have wanted?" I asked.

Was it my imagination or did he actually flinch?

Hope swelled within me, tempting and sweet. I'd found a weakness. I shifted, the binding around my wrists burning the skin. "My father trusted you-"

"Your father would have wanted me to do what was best for everyone."

His words hurt to the core, worse than Aaron, or even Lewis' betrayal. He was implying that my father would have given me up if it was for the good of the whole. I couldn't believe that; I wouldn't. They could do what they wanted with me, but they would not take away the belief that my father had been a good man. I closed my eyes and lowered my head. In the struggle, my hair had fallen from its ponytail and hung in a protective curtain around my face. I wouldn't look at Aaron. I couldn't, or I'd get sick all over him. And I refused to look at Lewis.

"Do it then," I whispered.

There was a moment's silence as if I'd stunned them all. With a wave of Aaron's hand, the entire world shifted back into focus, everything oddly brilliant. Deborah swept forward walking like she was on a runway, that small metal case dangling from her manicured fingertips. Aaron scooted a chair closer, sitting directly in front of me, the spicy scent of his cologne adding to my unease.

"I'm sorry. I'm not going to enjoy this, Cameron. It's necessary." As I looked into his blue eyes, so close that I could see the black flecks around the irises, I almost believed he was sincere in his apology. Or maybe it was Lewis, standing across the room and making me think I was calm, but an odd sense of ease swept through my body as if I was no longer there, but watching a play.

"Try to relax. Open your mind and it will be less painful."

Painful. The word brought me back into cold reality. I jerked forward, my wrists and ankles pulling at my bindings; it was an automatic response. Instinct forced me to try to escape. But the bindings just rubbed against my wrists, burning my skin. I was pathetic. I was trapped.

Oh G.o.d, I couldn't prevent it from happening.

"Deborah." Aaron nodded.

Confused, I glanced at the beautiful woman as she stopped beside me. She tapped a needle like some crazy scientist out to do an experiment on a rat. A needle. A needle.

"Relax," Aaron said softly, leaning forward so that I could only focus on him. He was staring hard at me, peering into my eyes, attempting to delve into my brain. Vaguely I was aware of the slight sting of a needle piercing my arm, but I couldn't seem to look away from Aaron, mesmerized by the odd glow of his eyes. I felt the slightest nudge on my mind and I knew it was Aaron invading but I couldn't seem to care. Someone, or something, was holding me captive.

Fight back. The words whispered through my mind, a message from G.o.d, or the universe, I wasn't sure. It could have been a message from the fairies for all I cared, but the words were enough to make me regain control of my mind...if only a little.

My body hardened and my attention refocused. I remembered why they'd brought me here in the first place, because according to them, I was the most powerful Mind Reader they'd met. A glimmer of hope had me reeling.

Fight back.

The words came again. I didn't spend time thinking about the ramifications. Instead, I let instinct take over. I closed my eyes, and I waited...waited for him to attack. I felt that gentle nudge again, like someone had pressed their finger into my brain, testing its ripeness like a piece of fruit. I forced myself to think of Lewis, the hurt of his betrayal so Aaron wouldn't know the direction of my true thoughts. A p.r.i.c.kle of pins tapped against my skull like a thousand needles in a pincushion. He'd broken in easily enough. I cringed, gritting my teeth, forcing myself not to react...not yet...

"Relax," Aaron murmured.

Screw you.

I threw the thought out right before I slammed up my mental wall. I vaguely heard Aaron's gasp of surprise, but I didn't dwell on it. No, I knew he'd come back full force. I dared to open my eyes. Our gazes locked, our minds at war. As I'd done with Maddox, I fell immediately, swimming in the sea of his gaze. I was in his mind before he'd even realized I had turned on him. I didn't have time to gloat.

Full colored memories suddenly flashed through my mind.

"Aaron, we do not speak while adults are speaking." A beautiful woman was glaring down a long table at me. Aaron's mother. I felt immediate shame and embarra.s.sment as the other adults watched on. I'd only wanted to prove my intelligence but had been reprimanded.

Another memory came to mind. "I don't want to go to England!" I screamed, or Aaron screamed. He was ten, being sent to boarding school.

And then the memories came more quickly...girls, sports, cla.s.ses. So quickly, so many memories, that I had a hard time truly seeing them. Vaguely, I heard someone shouting, the voice odd, as if coming from outside my mind. Lewis, I realized with a start. I started to slip, my walls crumbling.

Suddenly my father flashed before my mind. "It's not right, Aaron," he said, his face flushed furious.

"The vaccine isn't working!" Deborah called out, her voice mingling with the memories so I wasn't sure if she was real or not. I ignored the woman and slammed that wall back up, reaching out to Aaron's mind and grasping onto the memory of my dad.

My father paced back and forth in Aaron's study. "What you're doing isn't right and I want no part..."

Bam!

A thousand fists seemed to hit my body. I gasped, my head jerking back at the impact. My eyes opened, my body straining against my bonds. The sudden light from the lamp above entered my pupils and momentarily blinded me. The pain faded slowly, torturously, tearing the air from my lungs and leaving me gasping. I noticed Lewis first...pale, trembling as he stood only feet from me, closer, but still not close enough to help. The entire room had grown still and I would've thought nothing had happened, but for their faces...surprised faces full of shock and some worry. They knew I'd done something.

My gaze jerked toward Aaron who was still sitting across from me, but now he was glaring at me with a mixture of anger and awe. Sweat dripped down the sides of his handsome face; his nostrils flared as he gasped for air. I'd done that to him, broken into his private thoughts. I had a feeling it hadn't happened to him often and I couldn't prevent the sick sense of accomplishment from coursing through me. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to gloat, even knowing that more pain would arrive and I'd most likely come out the loser.

His lips lifted into a snarl, those blue eyes flashing as cold as ice. "I said you were good, but I didn't say you were better than me." Before I could even blink, sharp pain sliced through my brain. I screamed out, arching my back, jerking against my bindings like a worm on a hook.

"I told you it would go better if you relaxed. I gave you a chance," Aaron's voice managed to weave its way through my pain.

Frantically, I tried to imagine those steel walls. But the images slipped away as quickly as they came. Gone, like ghostly memories and I was left standing in darkness, the pain roaring through my body like fire. The pain increased, twisting, slicing through my mind like a corkscrew. The only thing connecting me to reality was the awareness of my hot tears slipping down my cheeks.

"Enough," I heard someone demand, the strength in his voice giving me hope, hope that this would all end...the pain...the suffering...

Then I heard no more and my hope faded as quickly as it had come. Memories slipped through my mind, floating by me like movies on a theater screen. My memories.

Me, crying as my mom dropped me off at Grandma's.

Sleepless nights, too scared to close my eyes in an unfamiliar home.

The police coming to our home in Michigan because the neighbors thought something was off with me and they'd heard the rumors.

All these memories flashed quickly through my mind like Aaron had my brain on fast-forward. Suddenly, I was standing at Lakeside and everything slowed. The colors became pristine. I felt the cold autumn wind, smelled the scent of salt water, heard the horrified shouts from the students around me.

My heart slammed wildly against my chest. I was there, in that moment, reliving Savannah's death. Slowly, I turned and there was Lewis standing in the parking lot. The first time I'd seen him. Lakeside disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

Lewis, at the front of the cla.s.s, looking at me.

Lewis, walking with me down the hall as he hinted that he could read minds.

Lewis. Lewis. Lewis.

And I knew Aaron had reached the memories he needed. The memories he would steal. The memories that warmed my heart at night. The memories that made me want to be here, alive, now.

"No!" I screamed, jerking against my bindings. But even though I could have sworn my eyes were wide open, I saw no one in the room, only my memories. "No, please!" He would take my memories. He would take Lewis from me forever. "Please, Lewis!"

But no one came and my memories kept shifting, slipping past me without my consent.

Lewis and me on the ferry coming over to the island.

Me looking out my bedroom window and seeing Caroline below.

Me being pulled from that drainage pipe.

And then it stopped. Just as suddenly as the memories had come, they stopped. Everything went black.

I didn't know where I was. I didn't understand. I couldn't feel my body. For one long moment I merely stared into that darkness, floating, waiting...too afraid and confused to move. I was only a conscious mind in some dark reality. At the edges of that darkness, was a thrumming pain threatening to flare to life.

"Please!" I cried out, my voice hollow, echoing in the empty s.p.a.ce that had somehow become my world.

Was I dead?

"Enough!" A deep voice growled, shaking the very air around me.

I didn't know if he was talking to me and I didn't care. It was an unfamiliar voice, but I grasped onto it anyway, my lifeline, my way out of this nothingness. Suddenly, I felt heavy, as if I was sinking...sinking into something thick, like quicksand. Warmth flooded my body, starting at my toes and seeping upward, and with the warmth the ache in my head flared to life. Vaguely I became aware of something wet trailing from my nostrils to my lips and into my mouth. The metallic taste of blood swept over my tongue. I grimaced, my stomach revolting.

"Open your eyes. Come on, Sweetheart."

I didn't want to open my eyes. I wanted to sink back into that darkness, sink away from the pain thumping against the side of my head. Warm palms cupped my cheeks, anchoring me to reality. The man was persistent. Slowly, I lifted my lashes. A face wavered before me, a masculine face of hard planes and all I could think about was how he'd look so much better without that dark beard over his cheeks and chin.

Worried gray eyes studied me. "You'll be all right," the man insisted.

But I didn't care. My mind was spinning, my stomach clenched into a tight knot so I thought I'd be sick. Too weak to speak, I closed my eyes again. I was vaguely aware of someone pulling at my arms, then my legs. With nothing to hold me up, I slouched into a hard body. Apparently my bones had disappeared. Muscled arms slipped under my legs and around my back, pulling me close to a warm body.

"Cam, Cam, please, dear G.o.d, please look at me." It was a different voice calling to me. A male voice that sent my heart racing for some odd reason.

I wanted to look at the speaker. I wanted to look at whoever was calling to me. If it was the last thing I did, I knew I needed to look at him. Slowly, I lifted my eyes. A concerned blue gaze stared down at me. Someone familiar; this man slightly younger than the one holding me. Someone I should know, but couldn't place.

"Please Cameron, please talk to me."

But I couldn't talk because blood was seeping down my throat, and the taste was making me nauseated. My stomach twisted. I felt cold, bitterly cold. Voices came in and out of focus. Faces appeared hovering over me, shadows that came and went like the sun. Was I dreaming? Maybe dying. Yes, probably dying.

"Take her," someone said. "Take her to her grandmother. Hurry."

I was moving, floating, those muscled arms still around me; warm, and comforting. A heart beat strong and sure against the side of my arm. Someone was carrying me, someone human. No Angel of Death. I tilted my head back and stared into the man's gray gaze.

"Don't worry," he said as he carried me through a door and into a hall. "Let go, Cameron. Just let go."

And so I did.

I closed my eyes and let the world fade to nothing.

Chapter 21.

Six Months Later The woman sitting at the table across from me was thinking about having an affair with her Scuba instructor.

She was imagining his dark skin glistening under the warm sun, his muscles flexing as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lowered his mouth to hers. Or maybe, she thought, she'd have an affair with the guy who cleaned her pool. Her husband was heading back to the U.S. for business and would never know.

I wanted to tell her it wouldn't work, that in those Desperate Housewife shows, they always suspected the Pool boy. Instead, I hid my grin by lowering my head and swiping down the counter where I'd been serving fruity drinks, hotdogs and meat pies since eleven this morning.

I wished she'd keep her R-rated thoughts to herself. I really didn't want to imagine her, her Scuba instructor, or the Pool guy naked. But I guess she couldn't help it. The thoughts seeped from her mind like the warm breeze currently drifting in from the Caribbean Sea.

Their hopes, their dreams, their nightmares...

What they thought about, I thought about.

Sometimes it really sucked to be able to read minds.

With a sigh I focused on the aqua ocean not twenty feet from me. The soft roar of the waves was always calming. Sure, our little cafe wasn't exactly Five Star, but you couldn't beat the view. Pink and orange rays from the setting sun pierced the late afternoon clouds, trailing pastel fingers across the waves. The telltale fins of dolphins crested the water's surface, always thrilling me like a kid on Christmas morning. And you couldn't beat the uniform, shorts and a tank top. It was hard to believe that just seven months ago I'd been in school, waking every morning at six, trudging to a place where I had to pretend to be normal. But this...this was freedom.

"Closing time." I pressed stop on the CD player, putting an end to Bob Marley, for today at least. Then I hopped over the counter, my bare feet sinking into the cool sand. Why wear shoes when you lived on the beach? "Anyone need a drink for the ride home?"

The natives eating meat pies shook their heads. With a wave, they stood from their wooden benches, taking their pies with them, and made their way toward their bikes. They were regulars who often stopped on their way home from work.

But Mrs. Miller, the woman who was thinking of seducing the hired help, still sat at her small table, looking lost and forlorn, almost like a child. She was lonely. She didn't want to go home to an empty house, even if her house was a mansion. I felt bad for her, but not bad enough to stick around and listen to her sob story. Nope, no more would I be seduced into feeling guilty by sad eyes and depressing thoughts. As Grandma had said, there wasn't much I could do to help these people anyway.

Besides, today was my birthday. Today I was eighteen. No way in heck I was working any longer then I had to. Funny how a year could make such a difference in a person's life. Gazing out at the water, I pulled my dark hair into a ponytail. Only a short time ago my need to please would have had me walking over to the woman and asking her if she was okay. Not now. Nope, when you faced death things changed.

"It's so quiet here," the woman drawled in her southern accent.

I nodded noncommittally, not daring to look her in the eyes. Of course it was quiet. It was paradise. A paradise I'd needed after being in a hospital for over a month. And don't bother asking what was wrong with me, they never did figure it out, the doctor saying some nonsense about how sometimes people slip into comas for no reason.