Authors: Heather Sunseri
“Jack, why’re they doing this?”
Nothing made sense. I focused on the double yellow lines stretching out in
front of us.
The vehicle came alongside and
swerved into us. Jack held on and steadied the car.
When the SUV hit us in the side
again, Jack lost control. Our car lurched sideways into a field and through a
fence before it began to turn on its side. Metal buckled. We flipped once.
Twice. Glass shattered.
Finally, we stopped. I hung upside
down. The car balanced on its roof. I heard a deep moaning sound that I think
came from my own throat. I tried to glance over at Jack, but couldn’t.
A sharp pain erupted behind my
right eye, and then nothing.
I smelled gasoline, laced with cigarette
smoke. Though my mind struggled to process what had just happened, I knew one
thing for sure: those two scents didn’t go together.
I rolled my head side to side. When
my eyes fluttered open, a faceless figure came into focus. The cigarette in his
mouth flared as he inhaled, and when he laughed, I gagged, then rolled over
into a coughing fit.
What was he doing? Couldn’t he
smell the gasoline?
Why wasn’t he helping us? We had to
get outta there. “Jack!”
A hand squeezed my hand. “Shh. I’m
right here. Can you hear me?”
“We have to get out of the car,
Jack. He shouldn’t be smoking. I smell gasoline.” I reached a hand to my
temple. My fingers met the soft feel of cotton and plastic. I winced, and as I
scrunched up my face, my head and face hurt more.
“Lexi, can you hear me? We’re not
in the car. We got out of the car. We’re fine.”
I groaned and tried to move my
other arm, but met resistance and more tenderness in my shoulder.
My eyes fluttered, letting small
amounts of light in. Another figure came into focus slowly. This time, he had a
face. And no cigarette.
“Jack?” His forehead was wrinkled
with concern. Worry swam in his eyes.
“Yeah. It’s me.” A lazy curve
spread across his lips. He sat on the bed beside me.
I studied his face. “You’re okay?”
My voice was panicked. I lifted my head, not without pain, and looked around. The
guest room at Jack’s house. No one else was there. No one smoking.
He nodded. “Just a few scratches.”
He followed my anxious gaze.
Finding no one in the room with us,
and with the smell of cigarette smoke gone, I relaxed back against the pillow. “How
long have I been out?”
He looked at his watch. “About
twelve hours.”
“Am I okay?” I wiggled my toes and fingers.
Assessed my pain. My head throbbed.
His face softened as he took my
hand and smiled. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Going to be?”
“A few more scratches than me, but you’ll
recover quickly. I’ll help.” He bowed his head and tapped his forehead with our
linked hands.
“What’s wrong, then?” Besides the
fact that some scary guys had tried to send us to our graves way earlier than I
planned.
He lifted his head. “I’m so sorry,
Lexi. I tried to protect you. I never should have taken you to that bar. I just
thought—”
“This was not your fault,” I said,
willing myself to remain calm. Still, something else played in the back of my
mind. “Something tells me I wouldn’t be lying here if it hadn’t been for your
expert driving.” I tried to smile. It hurt.
He nodded, swallowing hard.
“Do we know who ran us off the
road?” I asked.
“No.” Jack sucked in a deep breath.
“Dad’s investigators found traces of Rohypnol in your water. Fortunately, you
hadn’t drunk much.”
I gave my head a shake. “I don’t
understand.
“Also known as the date rape drug.”
“Why would someone want to drug me
with that?”
“The drug isn’t only used for
assault. It’s simply a strong sedative that can be hypnotic and cause a person
temporary amnesia. What I don’t understand is why someone would spike your
drink with such a drug if their intent was to kill you. Or me for that matter.”
Suddenly, I felt like an elephant was
sitting on my chest. A tear leaked down the side of my face and into my hair.
Jack cupped my cheek and rubbed the
tear with this thumb.
“Why is someone trying to kill one
of us, Jack?” Or both of us.
“I’m not sure. It could have something
to do with our fathers’ research, but I just don’t know.”
“How did I get here?” I glanced
down at the t-shirt and girly boxers I wore. Panic crept into my voice and my
head. “And into these clothes?”
Jack’s lips twitched. His fingers
feathered along my arm. “I carried you to bed.”
My eyes widened.
“Anita changed you into more
comfortable clothes.”
My body relaxed, and Jack’s smile
grew. Given the situation, Jack seeing too much of me should have been the
least of my concerns, but…
The touch of his fingers against my
skin made my heart rate speed up, but not in a good way and I wasn’t sure why. I
was forgetting something. Something that happened prior to landing upside down
in Jack’s car. “My head really hurts.”
His fingers drifted up my arm and tiptoed
along my brow line. A cold sensation spread along my face and forehead,
dissipating the pain with each press of his finger.
I breathed in and out while I
searched his face. I wanted to ask him how he took my pain away, but the words
got stuck in my throat. Something else teetered at the edge of my brain as his
eyes examined each millimeter of my hairline.
I thought about the previous
night—the romantic dinner, the sound of his voice over the microphone on stage,
and the kissing. With each pleasant memory, my breathing became shallower. I
squirmed under his gaze.
The natural light in the room flickered
as clouds passed in front of the sun on the other side of sheer curtains. As
the room darkened, so did my memories.
The girl with the lips. Rick. The
bottle of water that made me feel drunk.
Jack led me from the bar. Carried
me. I could still remember the stench of the dumpsters. He set me gently in the
passenger seat of his car.
Seth Whitmeyer
. He was
there. Outside. Behind the bar.
Jack’s eyes narrowed.
I pushed his hand away and sat up. “Seth
Whitmeyer was there.” I rubbed my temple with my fingers. The pain was gone. “You
knew him.”
Jack did not look surprised by my
realization. “Yeah, not exactly how I wanted our date to go,” he said.
The flip-flopping emotions battling
inside my head made me dizzy. I slid out of the bed, whipped around to face
Jack, and stumbled.
“Whoa.” He stood and circled around
the bed to where I was standing. “Take it easy.”
His concern melted the ice wall I
was erecting, yet I wanted to hit him. “Where are my clothes?” I looked around
the room.
“Anita put them in the closet.”
Jack held out a hand in front of me. “Stay. I’ll get them.” He crossed to the
closet and returned with the bag Danielle had packed for me. “Why don’t you lie
back down? We have nowhere to be today.” His voice was calm, but his face screamed
concern.
“I don’t want to lie back down.” My
words spilled out in a panic. I was definitely losing it. “Those people drugged
me last night.” Memories were pouring into my head like a torrential rain. “Someone
tried to kill us, Jack. Seth Whitmeyer was there. Did he try to kill us?” I
raised my hands and shoved him.
He caught both of my wrists and
pulled me towards him as he stumbled backwards from my push. His eyes closed briefly.
“No. Seth doesn’t want us dead.”
“But you do know him.”
He nodded.
“What is this? Who wants me dead?”
Was it the same people who killed Dad? “What does Seth want from me?” Panic
attack in full swing, I dug frantically through the bag until I pulled out a
pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. “You’ve been after the journals all
along. You and…” I gazed up at him, my breathing labored. “Seth? You’re working
with him?”
“What? No. Well… Yes. But there’s
so much more to it than that.” Jack guarded his words closely.
Did Jack want my dad’s journals so
badly he was willing to let someone hurt me? Did he take me to that bar so that
someone could drug me? Kidnap me? Kill me?
Suddenly, as if reading my
thoughts, he placed a hand over mine as I fidgeted with my clothes. “Stop this.
No one is going to get close enough again to drug, kidnap or kill you. I
promise. It wasn’t Seth who drugged you. You have to believe me. And I had
nothing to do with what happened last night.” He dipped his head, forcing me to
look at him. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
My eyes widened, horrified. Had he just
read my mind? I hadn’t spoken those questions out loud. I clutched the clothes
to my chest, trying to hide the fact that I was shaking all over. Dark
realization set in.
I think I’d known it all along. I
tried to shake the cobwebs from my head.
I stared hard into Jack’s eyes.
How
am I supposed to believe you? How can I trust you when you are hiding so much
from me? Every bad thing that has happened, happened since I met you. Since the
day you showed up at Wellington.
He took a step toward me. Jack’s
lips stretched into a tight line. His eyes locked onto mine—stormy blue to what
had to be freaked-out green. “The secrets end today.”
Then the unthinkable happened. I
heard his voice inside my head. His lips didn’t move. No sound came from his
mouth.
I am not going to let anything bad happen to you. After today, I will
hide nothing from you. The bad things that are happening were set in motion way
before I showed up at Wellington.
I stumbled backwards, dropping my
clothes to the floor. My hand flew over my mouth. I didn’t dare avert my gaze
from his panicked face. A mirror to mine, I was sure.
You can hear me.
I can. And you can hear me.
“I’m going to throw up.” I darted
to the bathroom and slammed the door.
“Moment of truth, Matthews.”
The girl who stared back at me in
the mirror looked nothing like me. Her hair hung in tousled strands. Blood
smeared across her forehead. Heavy, dark circles under partially swollen
eyelids.
I reached a hand and lightly
pressed on my shoulder. Pain erupted. Although the shoulder was only slightly
swollen, red skin assured me that I was bruised. And if the pain was any
indication…
I spread my fingers wide, pressing
my palms into the vanity, and leaned in closer to the mirror. Studied my
reflection. Green eyes. Brown, stringy hair.
Jack had read my thoughts. How long
had he done this? Had he read
all
of my thoughts?
I buried my face into my palms. “Dad!
What did you do?” A sob escaped my mouth. I was a freak. And the guy I was
falling for… had fallen for… could see straight into my mind and know my every
secret thought. For a normal teenager, life didn’t get much worse.
I lifted my head again. I was
anything but normal. My dad was gone. My grandmother didn’t know me. I had no
one.
“You have Jack,” I whispered. I
just had to trust. Could I put my faith into someone who was obviously hiding
so much from me, but who had constantly saved me the past few weeks?
What about the journals? Was he
after those? At my expense?
~~~~
The guest room was empty when I exited
the bathroom. A note waited for me on the bed.
I went horseback riding. Take
the time you need, then come find me. Please. I promise I will explain
everything I can. -Jack
The DeWeese’s house was quiet. Too
quiet. The sound of my rapid breathing and my deteriorating nerves followed me
down the front staircase and through the house.
I stepped outside on the back patio
and walked toward the fence that lined an open field behind the house. It was a
cloudy, fall day, the air crisp and cool as it whispered across my skin. I
breathed in the scent of impending rain, confirmed by the dark clouds in the
distance.
Dressed in jeans and a baseball
cap, Jack sat atop a large gray horse that galloped along the fence line. My
hands shook. I stuffed them inside the pocket of my hoodie.
Reaching the fence, I climbed up, swung
my legs over and sat on the top plank while I watched Jack ride. He was
beautiful, so in control on top of the large animal. Part of me wanted to
retreat and not hear the truths I needed him to reveal, but that was just my
fear of the unknown.
Jack spotted me. He tugged on the
reins and turned the horse toward me. My heart beat wildly. He trotted up next
to me. His beautiful gray horse nodded in my direction. I ran my hand down his
snout.
He held out his hand and spoke in a
soft, but confident voice, “Get on.”
I shook my head.
He grabbed my hand. “Come on. I won’t
let you fall.”
My stomach twisted. I stared into
his deep blue eyes, the color of the approaching storm cloud.
Here it was. Decision time. Trust
Jack? Or flee?
When he tugged again, I lifted one
leg and slid into the saddle in front of him while trying not to aggravate my
injured shoulder. His arms circled around me, holding the reins. His chest
pressed into my back. His legs squeezed against mine, sending electric shocks through
my body.
He made a clicking sound with his
mouth and pulled on the reins, steering the horse away from the fence. We trotted
toward the trees that lined the back of the property.
A cool breeze blew hair off my
face. As we entered the wooded area, Jack instructed the horse to slow. The
daylight dimmed by the shade of the large oaks. Shadows danced around the roots
at the base of the trees. Leaves swirled in the autumn breeze. He rested his
hands in front of me, and his biceps squeezed against my arms. I said nothing.
I tried to think nothing, fearing he’d hear my thoughts.