Feel (10 page)

“Parts of it, but I do much better by touching the actual person,” she responds quietly, her brow furrowing as she runs her fingers across the brown duffle.  “He grew up in Tennessee but was sent to different boarding schools up North.  He was trained before your father trained him.”  Amira flashes a flirtatious smile at Jensen before she closes her eyes, and I can’t help but wonder which part of Jensen she’s touched to know about his past.  The burrow between her brows deepens like she’s concentrating hard on something.  “There is a place that he goes to often.  A place he feels most at home.  If you go there, I bet you’ll find out more about who he really is.”

“Where is this place?” Jensen asks, leaning closer to the table.

“Not far from your home,” Amira smiles.  “It’s about time you headed back to Boone and saw your dad after all these years, don’t you think?”

Jensen’s jaw tightens and he flashes her a warning look that leaves me even more lost on just what she knows about his life and how she knows it.  “Do you know specifics about this place’s location?”

“It’s a two story white house in Hampton, TN.  It has a covered wrap around porch.  That’s all I got about it.  I’m sorry.”  Amira frowns, “But I did get that he’s very dangerous, Jensen.”  Her hands slide across the table to where her fingertips are touching his. 

My chest tightens and my eyes fall to the hands in my lap.  I barely have time to blink and Jensen’s hand is covering mine, easing the tightness a little. 

Amira sits back in her chair. 

Jensen places my hand on top of the table, still held firmly in his, and her eyes widen before she pulls them away from Jensen’s silent message of something I’m not quite sure of yet. 

Andy clears his throat, “I think I’ll have another bowl of chili before we go.”

“I can read your palm, Saige, and maybe tell you a bit about your future,” Amira offers, smirking.

“You can see people’s pasts, so why don’t you just stick to that,” I reply, trying to play nice and not wanting her to read into anything involving me.

“Seeing someone’s past is the best predictor to their future.  How do you think I do so well here?” she states, motioning to her small, but very comfortable cabin.  Her hand brushes against my sleeve and her eyes narrow, darting to Jensen, then back to me, and I know exactly what she wants to see more of as she reaches for my hand.

Shaking my head, I go to pull my hand back into my lap but I’m too late. 

Amira grabs my hand and places her palm on top of mine.  She visibly winces, and I jerk my hand away.  She goes to open her mouth, but I cut her off, punching her hard in the nose. 

“Guess you didn’t see that coming did you, bitch?” I snap, biting back tears.  Apparently, I was wrong.  A helluva lot can be told from a palm.  Things that shouldn’t have happened to be able to be told in the first place.

“Saige!” Jensen yells at me. 

The tears are threatening to fall and I don’t want him to see them, so I storm towards the door, rushing outside towards the fence at the cliff.  I refuse to let the tears fall as I stand there, looking out over the valley below as a sense of peace begins to knock the edge off the raging emotions inside.  The view of the valley reminds me of the field Jensen and I spent hours lying in the grass together, our field. 

I don’t know how long I’m alone before I hear the screen door open and creak closed, but it’s enough to have calmed me.  The gravel makes soothing crunching sounds underneath Jensen’s feet as he makes his way towards me, and I close my eyes, letting the breeze blow through my hair and the sun warm my face. It feels good.  I feel good right now, and I want to hold onto this feeling for as long as I can.  I keep my back turned towards him and silently will him to stay quiet, to just stand next to me and enjoy the moment without saying anything, without asking the questions I dread, but I know he won’t. 

Leaning next to me, he clears his throat and the moment begins to slip away, making me want to cry again.  “You okay?” he asks, staring straight ahead like he’s afraid to look at me, wondering how I’ll react.

“Sure,” I reply with my eyes closed and my face turned towards heaven, fighting to grasp my peaceful moment before it completely fades.

“If you ever need to talk, Saige, I’m here.”

Something in his voice stirs that uneasiness back to life, causing me to open my eyes, and my moment disappears.  “Talk?”

The way he shifts next to me shows his struggle.  “I know this shit you deal with is hard, more than anyone should ever have to put up with, but you can talk to me when you feel overwhelmed.”  He pauses before continuing, “You’re not alone.  Not anymore.”

I push away from him and climb over the railing, knowing where this is going.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice edged with a hint of panic.

“You think I’m going to jump, don’t you?” I ask, turning towards him as I take a step backwards, closer to the edge of the cliff.  “Your voodoo friend in there told you that I’m suicidal didn’t she?” I state flatly, already knowing she did, and hating how he seems to have believed her.

“She said you’ve contemplated it,” Jensen admits, placing his hand on the railing and propelling himself across effortlessly, taking a step towards me with his hand held out.

“Contemplated it?” I stare at his hand, contemplating taking it, contemplating him, but not contemplating what he thinks I am right now.  He looks sad, and it pisses me off.  I fought like hell to get through what happened and I made it on my own.  I don’t want his pity.  I take another step backwards, my eyes daring him to say anything as I spread my arms out in the air, feeling the powerful breeze swaying me.  I’m being a brat, but I don’t care.  He should know me better than what she told him.  “You believe her?” 

His silence is answer enough.

“Well, I don’t need some hero to save me.  I’m not going to end myself, so stop worrying.”

“Then get back over here, Saige,” he demands gently.

“I like how I feel right here.”  Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back and raise my arms higher as the air swirls around my body.  There’s something liberating about knowing that just a few more steps are the difference between life and death; mere inches will end it all.  Suicide.  Hell, yeah, I’ve contemplated it at my lowest point, but I’m stronger than that.

Jensen’s hand closes around my wrist as he yanks me towards him.  All liberty is gone as I crash into his hard chest.  Two strong fingers tilt my chin and his thumb wipes a tear from my cheek as I lower my gaze, caught off guard from my slip of emotions.  “I like you here, with me.”

His gaze holds me prisoner as his eyes burn with too many damn emotions, and I hate how I
need
to feel them even though I don’t want to. 

“She’s wrong, you know.  I mean, I’ve thought about it, but never seriously,” I explain, not knowing why I’m telling him something so personal, but it feels natural, just like it used to when he knew me better than I ever could.

“I guess everyone’s thought about it, Saige,” he tells me soothingly, his breath warm and intoxicating as it caresses my cheek.  “I’m relieved to know it was only a passing thought for you.”

I feel his eyes continuing to search me and my head spins as I realize I want to give him everything he’s looking for, but I don’t know how.  “You keep trying to protect me.  Why?” I ask, needing to know what he sees in me when he looks at me like that.

“It’s about damn time someone tries to protect you.”  His voice is raw, tainted with undiluted anger, and I cringe, trying to pull away from him.  He grabs my arms, holding me firmly in place, “You don’t need to run away from me.  Stop hiding who you are underneath the hardass exterior you fight like hell to keep up so you can push everyone away because it won’t work with me.  Not anymore.”  His grip loosens slightly as he pulls me towards him, softly brushing his lips against my forehead, “What the fuck did they do to you, Saige?”

One look into the dark rage in his eyes and I can see that he already knows more than I want him to.  “It doesn’t matter,” I whisper, not able to hold his gaze any longer.

“The hell it doesn’t!”  Jensen grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him.

The wind blows my hair in my face and I brush it behind my ear, looking down.

Jensen takes my chin, forcing it up again.  His jaw tightens and his voice is raw, “They hurt you didn’t they?”

I don’t say a word, but I don’t have to; I can tell he knows they did by the fire blazing in his eyes.  “It was years ago.  I barely remember it.”

“Bullshit!  You can’t pretend that you can forget what those bastards did to you.”  Jensen rakes his hand angrily through his hair, pushing the blonde strands away from his green eyes.  Right now, those eyes are full of dark, excruciating retribution.  “They tortured you!  Amira said they used shock treatment, Saige!”

The anger behind the foul string of expletives that falls from his mouth is so out of place for him, but hearing it hardening the words from his lips is strangely comforting.  I can’t feel his emotions, but I don’t need to feel them to know that he at least gives a shit about me.  He was always there for me since I was seven years old.  Things between us changed.  He changed a couple of weeks before he sent me away, and I have to know what I did to cause him to make such a drastic intervention or whatever in the hell he thought it was. 

My heart pounds furiously in my chest.  Haunting memories assault me.  “I know you wanted to keep me safe and keep my abilities hidden from your father and brother, but why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling?  How could you lie to me about my being accepted into the music school and send me to a place like that instead?”

“You think that I sent you to that hellhole?” he asks, his anger and horror rioting as pain darkens his eyes.

“Not at first.  But when you never returned my calls after I left you messages begging you to get me out of there, what in the hell was I supposed to think?” I half scream, half sob.

“I didn’t listen to your messages.  I swear I didn’t know!  I would’ve killed every fucking one of them if I knew.”  Tears blur his eyes as he grabs my shoulders, yanking me close to him and refusing to let me go as I struggle against his unrelenting hold.  “I didn’t listen to your messages because I knew that the second I heard your voice I wouldn’t have had the strength not to run like hell to get to you again.”

God, I want to believe him.  For nine years I never doubted him, not once.  My faith in him was stronger than my faith in anything else.  Trust like that doesn’t die easily, and it never fully went away when we were apart.  The agony in his eyes blares the truth and I can’t hold back the sobs any longer.  The past four years I tried to think of every possible scenario that would exonerate him from what happened to me.  A part of me always believed he could never put me through hell like that, knowing that there was no way he could be aware of what was happening to me.  Hearing that he really didn’t know restores my faith in him, my faith in me for wanting to believe him, for missing him, for still wanting him despite all the pain I endured. 

Jensen leans so close, I can feel his warm breath against my face.  His green eyes shine just like they did before all of the crap that happened, and I have to catch my breath.  I’ve needed to see him look at me like this again so badly, I’ve dreamt about it every night.  Gently, he places his hand against my cheek, his fingers softly caressing my skin, “This is how you deserve to be touched, Saige.  All I’ve ever wanted for you is something good, something pure, that can take your pain away.”

The warmth of his touch restores every last tortured piece of me and tears spill down my cheeks, “I had that for nine years.  I had you.  All I’ve ever wanted was you.”

“You have me now.  If you still want me.” I hear the truth in his voice as clear as I hear the unspoken plea when he continues, “I want to be there when you need me, every time you need me.  I’m all yours, Saige, every last broken and mending piece of me.  You can deny it all you want, but you know you’re mine.  You’ve always been mine, and you’re full of shit if you think that anything can change you being my girl.”  Jensen takes my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him as he softly demands, “Tell me you know that nothing can change you being mine.”

My cheeks glisten with hot tears.  “Just promise me one thing first.”

“Anything,” he whispers.

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

“Never, Saige.  I swear to God I’ll never leave you again,” he promises, and I believe him.

I slide my hand in his wind tangled locks as I bring my lips to his, “Nothing will ever change my being yours.” 

Jensen

Saige said the words I’ve needed to hear for four long years, and the love I feel for her nearly brings me to my knees.  Sliding my hands around her hips, I lift her up, crashing my mouth against hers.  She wraps her legs around my waist as our tongues collide, tangling and tasting as I savor every inch of its sweetness before savoring her lips.  She opens herself freely to me, sucking my lip inside her mouth and wrapping her legs tighter around me. 

The hard-on raging inside my jeans bulges against my zipper and I grind Saige against the part of me that is exploding to be inside her.  I feel Saige’s covered heat pulsing against my throbbing dick, and it’s all I can do not to lay her down and take her on the side of this friggin’ cliff.  She feels so damn good; she’s killing me with her soft lips and wet heat plunging, nipping, and rubbing against places that want to thrust and taste every piece of her.

Saige tangles her hands in my hair, slowly licking my bottom lip before grazing her teeth against the wet skin as she rocks against my swollen state, causing my loud, need-filled groan to rumble against her mouth. 
Damn, I want her so fuckin’ bad
.  I slide my hands down her waist, cupping her soft, full ass as she continues to torture me with moves I know I didn’t teach her but wish to goodness I was the one who did.  Pressing my fingers into her tight ass, I grind against her hard, and her head drops back.  The tips of her long hair brush against my hands as her eyes close, a soft, needy moan escaping her kiss swollen lips. 

Rationally, I know she wouldn’t have waited for me, but I want to rip the heart out of every other man who has touched her.  Not wanting her to think I’m accusing her, or for her to know how much it fucking hurts to think of her with another man when she was always my girl, I kiss her long and hard, giving her all the love I can fit into it before pulling back so I can see her beautiful face when I reclaim what’s mine.  “I don’t care how many men have kissed you, touched you; you’re still mine.  You have always been mine, and those bastards and their touch don’t exist anymore…not to me,” I growl, running my hand up the back of her neck as her soft hair tangles in my fingers, “only my touch exists now.”

“There’s only been one.”

“One what?” I rasp, needing to experience what it feels like being inside of her.

“Who’s touched me…there’s only been one,” she murmurs, her breath softly warming my neck as her eyes imprison mine for what seems like eternity.

Relief sweeps through my veins.  “Good,” I smile, “then that’s only one man I’ll have to kill.”

The light that was burning so brightly dims.  Her dark eyes gloss over and panic spews through my veins at how heart-wrenchingly broken she looks, the complete opposite of how she usually looks.  With a few slow blinks of her long lashes fluttering against her olive skin, all fragility is gone, replaced by a burning rage, as her voice quakes, “There’s no need.”

The meaning behind her anger and pain slams into me and I slowly slide her down my body when she unwraps her legs from my waist.  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say. 

She gives me a smile, trying to reassure me that I’m not the one to blame, then she turns to go, leaving me helpless to do anything but watch her walking away. 

The rage from how infuriatingly helpless I felt to find another way to save her back then nearly killed me.  I didn’t do helpless well four years ago and there’s no way in hell I’m going to do it again now.  Grabbing her wrist, I pull her back against my chest.  “We’ll find him, Saige.  You have my word on that.”

She turns around, pressing her hands against my chest, “I know.”  Her smile is forced, but I love her for trying to heal me when it was her friends, the man who was her first, that were killed. 

Feeling like a complete ass, I can’t keep my mouth from asking about the man who was inside her.  “Did you love him?” I ask gently, hoping she did and didn’t at the same time. 

A sad smile curves her lips.  Her head softly shakes.  “No.  I didn’t love Wes.”  She pauses, pulling her lower lip inside her mouth for a few seconds before continuing, “He didn’t love me, either.”

Hearing that saddens me.  I know how mindless sex can feel after it’s all over and done and the pleasure fades to emptiness.  I would never want that for Saige.  I can see the pain she wants to escape from; she can’t hide it from me, not when I’m intimately familiar with the same kind of hell she’s been trapped in all of her life.  I pull her closer, brushing my lips against her head.

“I trusted the wrong person,” she mumbles against my shirt. 

Taking her arms, I gently push her back, “He didn’t hurt you did he?”  I won’t regret his death one bit if he did.

“No.  It wasn’t anything like that,” she quickly assures.  “I just thought I was okay being alone, but when Wes started paying attention to me, I didn’t want to be invisible anymore.  What I didn’t realize is that, as soon as he had me, I would be invisible to him again.” 

She’s talking about Wes but I know she’s thinking about her parents right now, too.  They always made her feel like she was better off not existing.  The tears she’s fighting like hell not to let fall win, rolling down her cheeks, and the raw agony in her eyes guts me as I pull her into my arms. 

I hold her small frame as her body trembles from sobs.  I don’t let her go until she’s all cried out and my shirt is soaked with her tears.  Gently, I place my hand against her cheek, my heart breaking as she leans into the warmth of my touch like she’s never had it before.  “They were assholes, Saige, incredibly stupid assholes to have you and not see everything I see every time I look at you.”

Her dark eyes are clouded with doubt as she searches me, needing me to tell her what I see, needing me to be her strength right now after she’s been strong on her own for far too long, and just needing
me
.  I want to rip the hearts out of everyone who has hurt her, but I tame the rage so I can give her everything she needs of me right now.  “The second I met you I knew that you were special and I don’t mean just because of your gift.  There’s this wild gentleness buried inside of you that is rare.  You fight for what you believe, never backing down, even when you felt all the pain, all of the shit from everyone fighting to restrain you.  You didn’t give a damn what you lost of yourself and did what you felt was right, what needed to be done.  There aren’t many people like you left, Saige.  You said I was your hero, well, I’m not the hero here.  You are. 

“I’m sorry,” she blurts, rubbing her hands down her tear stained cheeks.

“For what?” I ask, using my thumbs to help her dry her tears.

“I don’t know,” she answers.  “For punching your friend, for being stupid, for everything.”

“That’s a helluva lot to be sorry for.”  My lips curve into a smile, and another tear slides down her cheek, leaving a hot, wet trail that I trace with my finger. 

“I’m also sorry for how I’ve treated you since we met again.”

“You thought I sent you to a nut house.  Don’t sweat it,” I tease, trying to cheer her up.

“So that excuses my being a total bitch to you?” Her eyes are red and puffy when she stops rubbing them and gives me a lopsided smile, looking so damn beautiful.

“No, it explains
why
you’ve been a total bitch,” I grin, giving her a wicked wink, “but I have a whole other slew of ideas of how you can make up to me for your bitchiness.”

She laughs, the sound soft yet strong, and so fucking seducing, the sweet lull rumbles through her throat like an aphrodisiac.  After what she said about Wes, I can’t be like him.  She deserves to know she’s loved before she gives herself to me.  After all she’s been through, I won’t risk the chance that she’ll get scared I’ll leave her like he did.  There will be no doubt about how much I love her when we make love for the first time; I’ll make damn sure of that.

The screen door slams in the distance.  Andy makes his way over, stepping next to Saige.  He throws his arm around her shoulders as he takes her right hand in his, inspecting it.  “I think you should take up boxing, princess.  You seem to like punching the living shit out of people.”

Saige’s cheeks flush scarlet, and I laugh.  I didn’t want Amira to get hurt but I can’t honestly say she didn’t have it coming with ambushing Saige like that. 

“Can you play nice now?” Andy playfully taunts.

“If she can, I guess I can try,” Saige grumbles, and I slip her fingers through mine, loving the hell out of this wildly innocent, rebellious woman.

Amira has a wet towel pressed against her nose and lip when we go back inside.  Saige doesn’t look contrite in the least, but she is dignified enough to let it go.  Amira doesn’t have as much class, but she’s smart and keeps her mouth shut so Saige doesn’t pop her again. 

“Driving to Hampton, TN is a three day drive, or two if we drive hard,” Andy grumbles.  “Why can’t we just splurge and buy plane tickets this one time?”

Saige’s face pales as her eyes search mine, silently pleading.

Andy catches her stricken expression and bursts into laughter, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to fly when you make dumbass moves like following a bomber to his apartment,
alone
, and have the chops to throw punches and bust my balls like you do.”

“You know how stressful it is for us to fly with cranky passengers, annoying whiners, and every crazy ass person in between?  Picture Saige being stuck on a plane full of emotionally charged people and make a guess on how many people she’ll try to take out then.”

“Fine.  Let princess drive the van and we’ll fly,” Andy jokes.  “Looks like she can use the time to blow off some steam anyway.”

Amira huffs. 

Andy laughs. 

Saige folds her arms across her chest, looking like she’s going to bust his nose next.

“We drive.”  Raking my fingers across my forehead, I try to stave off the pain beginning to pulse before it turns into a full-blown headache.  “We can’t wait two to three days to get to this house.  There might be information there about what he’s planning next.” 

“We can call in an anonymous tip to the cops,” Saige suggests.

“The cops can take down some hard ass criminals but they aren’t equipped to handle someone who shares talents like ours,” Andy explains.  “We don’t know exactly what kind of abilities this bastard has, but we’re sure he has some serious skills.”

The pulsating thud in my head turns into a wrecking ball.  “I think Amira’s right.  I’m going to have to call Dad.”

“It’s about time,” Amira chastises, pulling herself up to sit on the counter top instead of a seat at the table.  I guess she isn’t ready to get too close to Saige again. 

Saige’s questioning gaze studies me before it shifts to Amira, then Andy.  I know she’s trying to piece together the parts to one very screwed-up puzzle. 

“Will your dad tell you any details about the bomber?” Andy asks.  “Four years is a long time to not hear from your sorry ass then get a call out of the blue to be interrogated about a man he doesn’t know that you know exists.”

“You haven’t spoken to your dad in four years?” Saige asks.  Her voice is quiet and I don’t know the best way to answer her just yet. 

Andy seems to have no issues, however.  “He’s been too busy chasing bad guys and lamenting ghosts.  You know, that twisted need to rectify the whole ‘sins of the father’ dilemma.” Andy turns towards me, “He’s going to want answers on how you know about one of his prodigies.”

“Then, I’ll have to tell him,” I state, not giving a damn if my father knows I hacked into his files.  I just wish I hacked into the individual files about the people he trained to find out the abilities he was helping them sharpen, and what he was helping them sharpen their powers for.  Sliding my phone from my pocket, I hold it in my hand, staring at it for a few seconds.  I can feel Saige’s eyes on me and I know that I have a lot of answers I’m going to have to give her as well.  My chest tightens and I take a deep breath. 
Damn, I don’t want to call my father
.  “I’ll make the call, and we’ll get on the road.  Dad can check out the house before contacting the authorities.  If there’s anything that can lead anywhere near the bomber, I’m sure he’ll show us when we get there.”

I step outside to make the call I have no desire to make, trying to ignore the shrill tones as I scour my head for what to say.  How is it possible that five rings of a telephone can seem like hours?  Each torturing pause just reinforces my hesitance to make the call in the first place.  The night I left, too many harsh words were thrown, which hurt a helluva lot more than the blow Dad threw when I told him he should let mom go, that he acts like she’s dead to him anyway.  I could see how much I hurt him when I said that.  There was no denying the shot of pain that flashed in his eyes before his anger drowned it.  What I never could see is why he keeps her on that damn machine in the back bedroom he never sets foot in.  I’ve heard the nurses talk; she’ll never wake up.  Mom can’t want this, to barely hang on to this life without being able to live it. 

I’m about to hang up when I hear Dad’s voice.  I’m still at a loss of what to say so I just grunt, “It’s me,” and wait for him to blow up, start yelling at me like he did the last night I saw him.  Like most of my life.