Split Second (Pivot Point) (12 page)

Addie:
Need to purchase some protective face gear.

“Trevor, wait!” I called down the stairs. He was at least a floor below me. I could hear his footsteps but couldn’t see him when I leaned over the rail. “Wait!”

The footsteps stopped, and I walked down the remaining space between us.

“Your grandfather’s kind of different, yeah?”

“That’s a nice word for it.”

He smiled. “What was the thing that looked a lot like a toaster sitting on the coffee table?”

Possibly the reason he’s been able to stay hidden all these years
. “I think it was a modified toaster. Maybe he receives transmissions
from Mars on it. I don’t know.”

“Maybe it tells him the future.”

“Let’s not get carried away.”

“So . . .” He started walking again. “You came after me why?”

“You think there’s another way out of this building? Besides the lobby?”

“I’m sure there’s a back exit. I think there’s a parking lot back there.”

“So we have a choice?”

“My car’s parked out front, so that makes my choice easy.”

“Can you just . . .” I grabbed his arm and he stopped. “Can we just sit for one minute?” One minute should be enough to do a quick Search. “I’m feeling a little dizzy.”

“Sure.” He helped me sit on a step and then leaned against the wall. “It seemed like you hadn’t seen your grandfather in a long time.”

This wasn’t going to work if he tried to talk to me. “Yeah, I hadn’t. I didn’t realize he lived here. I’ve been learning a lot of interesting things lately.”

A discarded kid’s tennis shoe sat on the step by Trevor’s foot. He nudged it a few times with the toe of his shoe, flipping it, then flipping it again. I wondered how many times some mom had searched her apartment over for something that wasn’t there. For a shoe that was sitting here in the stairwell. She might never find it, because she obviously had no memory of it falling here.

I put my forehead on my knees so it wouldn’t look suspicious when I went catatonic for a minute during my Search. I braced
myself for the headache that would follow, wondering if I should even be using my ability right now when I was worried about the lasting effects of these headaches. Of what caused them to begin with.

“Addison,” he said, stopping my Search before it started.

I looked up and barely saw the flash of an object as it hit my face. “Ouch.” The kid’s shoe landed on the step below me with a thump, then rolled down a few more. “Did you just throw a shoe at me?”

“I’m so sorry.” He rushed forward and sat on the step below me. “I thought you would move fast and catch it.”

I rubbed my cheek, trying to hide a smile. He was relentless. And funny. Why did he have to be so easy to be around?

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” One of his hands went to my elbow while he inspected my cheek. He cringed. “There’s a red mark.” He retrieved the shoe, then held it out for me. “You have my permission to throw this at my face as hard as you can.”

I laughed. “I’m not going to hit you in the face with a shoe.”

“It would make me feel like less of a jerk.”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t even hurt.”

He tossed the shoe aside, then ran his fingers lightly over my cheek, which, despite what I’d said, actually stung a little. He studied the new mark intently. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I don’t do this. I don’t follow people. And I don’t throw things at girls.”

“What do you do?”

“I . . .” He stopped, and I could tell I’d caught him off guard with the question.

“Tell me more about your comic. What’s it about?”

“My attempt at a comic.”

My eyes went to his hands, where I could see a callus along the inside of his middle finger along with lead smudges. I meant to just point at his finger, but instead my hand brushed along the smudge. “You don’t earn a callus like that from just attempting.”

He put his hands palms up and inspected them. “I’ve been trying to throw with my left hand.”

I figured he was talking about a football. “And how is it?”

“As evidenced earlier, I’m a much better aim with my right.”

I laughed.

His eyes traveled over my hair and then came to rest on my neck. “Your hair is starting to curl underneath. Is it naturally curly?”

I smoothed my hair. “Yes. I straighten it every day.”

He pulled lightly at one of my curls. My heart stammered in my chest as a familiarity at his closeness washed over me again. Maybe I was just remembering the Search from the hospital. Or the way he’d looked at me in the mall.

The mall. With Stephanie.

I cleared my throat and crossed my arms, trying to provide a barrier between us. He was so close. And he smelled so good. And . . . I needed to stop. “Stephanie bought this really amazing dress for the formal. You really should ask her.”

He laughed a little and backed away, leaning his head against the wall. “Are you and Rowan ganging up on me?”

“Rowan?”

“He keeps telling me to ask her, and like I told him the other
night, I’m kind of tired of her drama. I know you’re friends with her and everything, but she and I aren’t good together.”

A tingling worked its way over my arms. Despite my body thinking this was a good thing, it wasn’t. Stephanie was my friend, and she really liked him. “You should give her one more chance. She’s working on her drama.”

“We’ll see.”

I buried my head in my arms again, remembering I still needed to Search. He seemed lost in his thoughts, so now was as good a time as any. I took a deep breath and concentrated.

“Are you okay? Does your face hurt?” Trevor asks.

“No. I’m fine.” I lift my head, meeting his eyes. They are full of concern.

“Are you sure?”

I stand. “Yes. Can you give me a ride home after all?”

“Of course.”

I glance over my shoulder, up the stairs toward my grandpa’s apartment. I’ll come back tomorrow. We walk down the remainder of the stairs and I peer out the lobby doors, still not sure whether my grandpa was being paranoid. I don’t see anyone “waiting to intercept” Trevor, but it’s probably better to be on the safe side.

“So you’re going to think this sounds ridiculous, but can we circle around the back?” Then I’ll be able to scope out the street.

“Why?”

“There were some guys on the street earlier who made me
uncomfortable. I don’t feel like passing them again.”

He stands a little taller. “We’ll be fine.” He takes a step toward the lobby, and just as he almost comes into view of the windows, I grab his hand.

“No. Please. Can we just go this way?” I pull him toward the red exit sign I see at the end of the hall. He doesn’t argue, just lets me lead him out back. I wait for him to pull his hand out of mine, but he doesn’t. His hand is warm and comfortable. It swallows mine in its grip. I should let go. I don’t.

Once outside we sneak around the building, and I peer up the street. There are several parked cars, but none of them occupied. There doesn’t seem to be anyone after Trevor. I relax with the thought.

Trevor lets go of my hand, then points. “I parked a couple blocks down.”

Perfect. When we reach his car, he opens the door for me.

I start to get in but stop. “Thank you.”

He has one hand on the open door, and he puts his other hand on the top of the car next to my head, boxing me in. “For what?”

I lift my hand, my first instinct to put it on his chest, but hesitate and grab a section of my hair instead. “For not making us go out the front.”

He doesn’t move away, just stares at me through his thick lashes. My heart flutters. He feels very close all of a sudden, even though neither of us has moved. His eyes drift to my cheek, probably checking on the red mark he made there, but then they
flit to my lips. I take a breath in through my mouth, my lips parting slightly with the action.

My hand that grabbed a piece of my hair has frozen, and the hair slips slowly through my fingers, my hand now hovering in the air, empty. As if it has a mind of its own, it presses itself right over his heart, each fast beat now crashing against my palm. He leans closer and his breath washes over me, my eyes closing. He hesitates for a second too long, and I quickly drop my hand and back into the open car door, out of breath. He stares down at me for a moment and then shuts the door.

The memories of the first option flowed together with the memories of the second.

“Are you okay? Does your face hurt?” Trevor asks.

“No. I’m fine.” I lift my head, meeting his eyes. They are full of concern.

“Are you sure?”

I stand. “Yes. Can you give me a ride home after all?”

“Of course.”

I glance over my shoulder, up the stairs toward my grandpa’s apartment. I’ll come back tomorrow. We walk down the remainder of the stairs and I peer out the lobby doors, still not sure whether my grandpa was being paranoid. I don’t see anyone out the wall of windows that line the front of the lobby. So the modified toaster doesn’t work after all. My grandpa is just insane. Is that why my dad didn’t want to tell me about him?
He didn’t want me to see him like this? My stomach clenches. Whatever the reason, I’m still angry that my dad kept something this big a secret. Especially after he promised me he wasn’t keeping any other secrets from me.

I don’t stop Trevor when he heads for the lobby doors. I just follow him. Once outside, he points to the right. “I parked a few blocks down.”

Despite feeling like Trevor is safe, I look up and down the street. There is no one waiting to intercept him.

We walk in silence for a few minutes, and then he says, “I still think something is going on. And as you’ve learned, I’m not a very good detective. So maybe you could just tell me.”

“Trevor. Really. It’s nothing.” I’ve never liked having to be dishonest with him, but this is the first time my stomach turns with the lie.

We arrive at his car, and he sighs. He unlocks the door, then walks around to his own side.

“Sorry if you missed your workout for me,” I say when we’re inside.

He runs a hand down his face, his expression seeming to say,
And all for nothing
.

I snapped out of my Search, keeping my head on my knees, waiting for the sharp pain to radiate in my head, but only an uncomfortable pressure developed. That seemed like a good sign. Maybe resting my ability had helped.

“Addison?”

What had I missed? “Yeah?”

“Are you okay? Does your face hurt?”

“No. I’m fine.” My heart raced and I lifted my head, meeting his eyes. They were full of concern.

“Are you sure?”

I stood. “Yes. Can you give me a ride home after all?”

“Of course.”

I glanced over my shoulder, up the stairs toward my grandpa’s apartment. I’d come back tomorrow. We walked down the remainder of the stairs, and when we got to the bottom I looked both ways—first to the lobby and then to the red exit sign at the end of the hall. Why did my entire being want to go the red exit sign way? I tried to tell myself it wasn’t because Trevor almost kissed me when we went that way. It wasn’t because I could change that part of the future and let him.

He took a few steps toward the lobby and then looked back at me. “Are you coming?”

My heart ached, but I forced myself to take a step in the direction of the lobby. “Yes.”

I changed one little thing from how I had seen it play out. Instead of forcing myself to walk a foot away from him to the car like I had in this version of the Search, I let our arms brush all the way to the passenger-side door. It didn’t change the fact that he still got upset when I wouldn’t tell him anything. He drove me home in silence. As I watched him drive away, I stood wishing I would’ve taken the other path.

Laila:
Sitting in the dark is bad.

Connor looked at my upturned hand. “I thought the emotion you were channeling with my presence was hatred.”

It took every ounce of self-control not to yank my hand away. It took all the coldheartedness I’d learned over the years to keep my face passive. “It is, but the closer you are, the more disgust I feel.” I flexed my fingers. “Hurry.”

I wasn’t sure if he bought my well-delivered lie, but he grabbed my hand. The problem was that now I really was annoyed with him. Now my heart didn’t speed up like it normally did when he so much as brushed my arm with his. Now I just wanted to leave.

He shifted his hold on my hand and one by one laced his fingers between mine. The glowing light of my phone clicked off with inactivity, and his face became shrouded in shadows.

“Your dad really stole your money, didn’t he?”

It seemed easier to tell the truth in the dark. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“He’s addicted to suppressors. He’s a Telepath.”

I felt his body move as he nodded his head.

“Why are you doing this for Addie?”

The city lights across the river seemed to flicker. “Because she’s my best friend.”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t buy that.”

“I never asked you to. It’s the truth.”

“There’s more.”

“I screwed her over. Made out with her boyfriend while she was still with him. I owe her this.”

“Duke.”

“Yes.”

He was quiet for a while, seeming to consider whether he wanted to tell me something. “I know you want me to restore her memory, but believe me, neither you or she would want that.”

“But I do want that, and actually, she wrote a note to herself. . . . She wants it as well.”

He sighed. “Does it get tiring?”

“What?”

“Always thinking you’re right.”

I smiled. “No, not really. It’s other people not realizing I’m
right that gets tiring. Now talk. Why wouldn’t we want you to?”

“If I Healed Addie’s mind, anyone’s mind, everything that had ever been Erased would come back.”

“That’s fine. The one she wants back is the only one I’ve ever Erased.”

“The only one
you’ve
ever Erased. You’re not the only Memory Eraser in the Compound.”

“She doesn’t know any other Memory Erasers.”

“But I’m sure her parents do.”

“You think her parents had some of her memories Erased?”

“I think most parents alter their children’s life experience. They think they’re doing us a favor. But it’s not just Erased memories that my ability would restore, it’s suppressed memories, forgotten memories, memories of every image she ever saw. There’s a reason Healers are used in torture. Not even a strong mind would be able to handle it.”

I had no idea, but it made sense. “Yeah, I guess I don’t want to subject Addie to torture . . . do I?”

“Believe me, you don’t.”

For a minute I had forgotten about our clasped hands, but now, in the new silence, my entire being seemed to focus on them. I tried to use that energy, but I only felt scattered and flustered. I needed to concentrate, think about something else. And I didn’t want to share any more personal items, so that left him.

“What about you? What’s your story? Why do you sell illegal expansion programs?”

“Because they shouldn’t be illegal. I think the DAA should allow for some competition. It makes for better products.”

“You’re doing this out of goodwill? Connor, the spokesperson for a free-market society? Nice try.”

His hand twitched a little in mine. Just enough for me to know I’d correctly called his bluff.

“What’s the real reason?”

My eyes had adjusted somewhat to the dark, and I saw the muscle in his jaw tighten with the question. “Maybe I want to be kicked out.”

Now
that
I wasn’t expecting. “What? Why?”

“Then I wouldn’t have to make the choice.”

“What choice?”

“The choice between going or staying.”

Our breaths rose and fell together as I watched him, waiting for him to expound. He didn’t, so I did for him. “You’re hoping someone takes away your power to choose by forcing you to leave the Compound?”

“If I have no choice in the matter, then there’s no guilt.”

“So you want to leave. That’s the issue. You want to be with your dad?”

“I don’t know my dad. So no. I feel trapped here. Limited.”

“Wouldn’t you feel the same out there? You could tell nobody what you can do. You’d have to live in secret. That would be a nightmare.”

Connor flipped our hands so that mine was on top and studied the back of it. “So if you feel terrible about what you did to
Addie with Duke, why did you do it? Why do you still hang out with him?”

Okay, apparently we were changing the subject back to me. “We don’t hang out that . . .” I trailed off because Connor gave me a look that said I wasn’t answering his question. So I told him the real reason. “He’s a Mood Controller.”

“I guessed as much.”

“He’s really good at his ability.”

His hand tightened on mine. “He gives you false emotion.”

“It doesn’t feel false when I’m around him. When he’s there, I feel pure happiness. A feeling I can’t get anywhere else.” Why was I telling him all this? I nudged my phone so the light would come back on. It was too dangerous to talk in the dark.

His voice went low. “But it’s fake emotion.”

I shrugged. “It feels the same to me.”

“Then you’ve never felt the real thing, because forced happiness is not the same as real happiness.”

I turned to face him head-on. “And forced choices aren’t the same as real choices,” I said, anger bursting in my chest.

We held each other’s stare, and without meaning to, my body moved an inch closer to him. He reached over with his free hand, took me by the back of the head, and pulled me to him. Our lips collided roughly. As though years of pent-up emotions were waiting to come out, the kiss was hungry and raw. Our hands unclasped, and mine found his hair and entangled themselves there. His hands went to my waist, pulling me off my chair and onto his. My chest expanded, but at the same time, I couldn’t get
enough air. I didn’t need air, though. I only needed him. In the midst of it all, a horrible fear struck me that I wouldn’t be able to Erase this. That he’d remember my vulnerability. My desire. My need.

I pulled away.

“That should work,” I said, and backed into my chair again to face my phone. My breath wanted to come rapidly, and I forced the movements of my chest to at least appear calm and even. I tried to ignore my lips, which stung from the kiss. I concentrated on channeling my emotion to reopen the paths I had blocked on the phone. I even closed my eyes to push out the distraction that was Connor. That’s when I felt it, the buzz that hung around me. The energy seemed to vibrate against my body. I forced it all toward the phone. A monotone voice said, “Approximately twenty minutes with traffic.” I opened my eyes again. The red line was back. The blinking dot that represented Addie’s house flashed on and off.

I’d done it.

With Connor.

Whether I’d be able to do it without him was the question. When I went to Dallas in three days, could I give Addie her memories back?

I didn’t want to look at Connor, too afraid of what I would . . . or wouldn’t . . . see. So when his chair shifted as he stood, I didn’t look over.

“If I could Erase that, I would,” I said.

“Consider it forgotten.” His footsteps echoed out of the small cabin.

I stared at the lights in the distance. The monotone voice on my phone reminded me that Addie’s house was twenty minutes away, with traffic. I wished I really were going to Addie’s house. She’d tell me I was an idiot. She’d tell me what I was supposed to do now.

I finally allowed myself one look over my shoulder, but there was only darkness.