Feel (22 page)

Sunshine spills through the slits of the curtains, splashing across the polished hardwood floors.  The further I walk into the living room, the more foreign feelings invade me, but there’s something familiar about the sensation, something that is tripping me out even worse than what James just did.  I’m feeling Griffin.  Well, I’m feeling Griffin’s childhood feelings.  I think.  The more I feel, the more I’m sure that there’s no denying the thread tying the carefree sensations to the sinister dark emotions.

My fingers begin to shake, and I shove them inside my jeans pockets as I walk through the house, feeling pulled towards the back.  Sweat breaks out at the nape of my neck when I step in front of the door I knew was there. 
I don’t even know how I know that I knew this.

A warm tingle was emitting from the ambiance in the living room and hall, getting colder, more deviant, the closer I got to this door.  A thousand cold pricks stab my skin.  I don’t feel pain.  I feel loss, suffering, and so much anger.  Taking a few steps back, the sensation weakens and the more benevolent mood gains strength.  I’ve never been high, but if it feels anything like this, I want no freaking part of it. 

This is the only door I’ve seen with scuffs.  It looks like it hasn’t been kept up like everything else, except the door knob.  It appears new.  I start to open the door, but a splinter in the frame stops me.  The urge to enter that room is overwhelming.  I know I need to go in there.  Overruling my good sense, I brush my fingertips against the old wood and I know this room is the reason Griffin felt Jensen’s family had to die.  I just don’t know why.  “Over here,” I call loudly, never taking my eyes away from the closed door.

“What is it?” Jensen asks, immediately placing his hand on my arm when he sees how rigid I am. 

“There was something in there.”

Jensen’s hand pulls me behind him before he tries the locked knob.  James tries to do his thing, but nothing happens, which seems to really piss him off while it amuses Andy to no end.  Jensen and Darrin exchange one of those looks before Jensen pushes me further behind him, then kicks in the door. 

The spinning in my head is maddening when the door bursts open, and I have to brace my hand against the wall to not fall flat on my face.  No one else seems to be affected as they walk straight into the room that seems hell-bent on making me sick.  I know I have to go in there, but I just don’t want to.  Clutching the wall, I inch along the side, watching as they pilfer through dusty drawers and cabinets.  Spasms of helplessness make me want to do anything to make it go away before the sensations spiral dangerously into my gut, knocking the air out of me as I hit the floor. 

“Saige!” Jensen calls, but I hold up my hand, rocking back and forth on my knees on the cold floor. 

Murderous hatred hemorrhages inside from the depravity of all the sick emotions rampaging within my soul.  A guttural cry screeches from deep inside me, and Jensen grabs my arms, ready to carry me out of here, but I lash out at him, trying to keep him away from the fury ripping savagely through every part of me.  Losing all control of who I am, I collapse onto the floor, becoming what he felt, what
she
felt, as putrid images erupt from everywhere.  Flashes of the window that’s now covered in tape is clear, with bright sunlight pouring inside, when it shatters, exploding shards into the air. 

My body convulses, my back arching violently, as I scream.  Raw pain tears my esophagus but I keep screaming hysterically until there’s no air to pull into my lungs.  Scratching and clawing at my neck, I try to pry free from a crushing hold. 

Restraining my wrists, Jensen jerks me from the floor and into his arms as he runs through the house, busting through the front door to the lawn outside.  “Breathe, Saige…breathe, baby!” he coaxes, smoothing my hair out of my face. 

My head, eyes, every damn thing inside, feels like it’s seeping Griffin’s contagion as I shudder uncontrollably from the horror his sister suffered.  “He killed her,” I gasp, my voice shaking as much as my body.  “He killed his sister!”

“Sshh, it’s okay.  It’s okay.”  Jensen holds me, rocking me tightly in his arms as he tries to console me, but, screw that, I don’t want to be consoled.  I want to bleed the life out of Griffin like he did his little sister.

Darrin kneels on the grass beside me.  His large hand takes mine as he checks my pulse before gently lifting my chin so he can inspect my neck.  “We need to get something to put on those,” he tells Josie.

I look down at my fingers, seeing the blood on my nails, and I go to grab my neck, but Darrin grabs my hand again, gently shaking his head. 

“You’re going to be alright.  You just scratched yourself a little.”  His gaze shifts to Jensen, and I feel his uneasiness rising although you would never be able to tell with his outward appearance.  I guess the military taught him that.  Too bad they couldn’t prepare him for shit like this.  His smile looks so natural, I’d give the man a Grammy.  “What did you see, honey?”

“Honey?” I try to joke, desperate to separate myself from what just happened, but it comes out more like a whimper.

“I’ve got you, Saige,” Jensen breathes against my cheek and I inhale his strength, leaning into his protective comfort as I force myself not to break down. 

“His sister,” I begin, shaking my head to clear the image of her beautiful brown eyes dimming as he beat her, then held her down as his hands crushed her throat, strangling the life out of her.  “He hurt her so badly.  He kept hitting her.  She kept screaming and trying to get away.  I felt her screams.  I couldn’t stop them.  She grabbed for whatever she could find to try to stop him, kicking and thrashing so hard her shoe flew through the window.  Then he pressed his hands against her throat, crushing it until she died.”

Jensen’s protective grasp tightens around me as I go limp against his chest. 

“How?  How in the hell did I feel that?  How in the hell did I see that?” I nearly wail.  “It was in the past.  I can’t see the fucking past!”

Jensen and Darrin turn towards Josie and Stephen but they shake their heads.

“You didn’t sense anything?” I ask, bewildered with why I sensed this.  Seeing the past is what Amira does, not what I do. 

Jensen runs his hand down my arms, brushing a kiss against my temple.  His concern makes his eyes even a darker green as he inspects me.  “You couldn’t breathe again, Saige.  There has to be a connection with that.”

How he cares for me, protects me, has always healed my heart in a way that saved me.  People can live through the worst of humanity but, surviving, coming out with your soul still breathing – that’s the part that’s damn near impossible to do sometimes.  Jensen is my humanity.  He’s the reason my soul never died.  He still is.  I will do whatever it takes to be strong for him because of that.  “I’m fine now.”

Jensen studies me for a few seconds longer, making sure I really am fine before turning towards Darrin as he looks at the house, “Did you see the doorknob?  It was new, and the frame was splintered like it had already been kicked in recently.”

“I saw that,” I mumble.

“Yeah, I noticed that, too,” Darrin states.

“Dad and Jackson must have gone in there.”

“They did.”  Pressing my hand against his cheek, I press my forehead against his chin, “Going in there is why he killed them.”

“How do you know that?” Jensen asks quietly.

“I don’t know how.  I just do.  But, it feels like Griffin needs to keep it secret,” I answer honestly.  “I’m sorry I didn’t get more than that.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Jensen runs his thumb softly across my neck.  “This is the second time that bastard has tried to kill her,” he growls.  “I want him dead.  Now!”

“Your family suffocated before they died, right?” Darrin questions.

Jensen nods.  The concern in his eyes proves he’s already thinking whatever Darrin is. 

“What?” I ask, gripping his shirt in my fist.  “What are you not telling me?”

“I don’t know for sure.  The rest of the house was well cared for, except for that room.  The window was never fixed, there was dust on the counters and floor.  It’s like Griffin never steps foot in there.  The lock is the only new part of that room for what looks like years, and Griffin somehow made sure people with abilities like James’ can’t manipulate it.” 

Jensen shakes his head, staring back at the covered window.  “I’ve seen Jackson move objects and open locks.  Manipulating metal was the first power he discovered.  He was good at it even before Dad’s training intensified, but it looks as if he couldn’t open the lock and they had to bust through the door as well.  Maybe Griffin punished my family for them finding out what you saw.  Jackson could have seen what you did.  He didn’t need to touch an object used in an event to sense the past; he could feel it by walking into a room.”

“But I can’t do that.  I can only feel people’s emotions when they’re near me and dream visions about people who also have to be close to me, and it’s always and event in the future.  I’ve never been able to do what I just did.”

“You said Jackson and Griffin connected with you before, and Griffin had a hold on you somehow when he was killing Jensen’s family,” Darrin explains.  “You can also sense death.”

“Before it happens!” I correct him, vehemently shaking my head, “not after.”

“That hold he had on you somehow gave you the ability to feel what Jackson and Griffin felt in that room.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet,” Darrin shakes his head.  “What Griffin can do is beyond what even the most avid believers of paranormal abilities accept as possible.”

“If she’s connected to him like that, then he knows that she saw it, too,” Samantha states what keeps ringing in my head. 

Jensen wraps me so tightly in his arms I think I’m going to have to dig my way out, but I don’t think I’ll want to do that anytime soon.  Possibly never.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”  Jensen gently pulls me to my feet but refuses to let go, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and holding my hand.  “We’ll stop at a drug store for some alcohol and ointment.”

The sting on my neck barely registers as my mind tries to catch up with everything that just took place.  The image of Griffin’s sister is seared into my brain.  “She couldn’t have been older than fourteen or fifteen, Jensen.  I don’t understand how he could’ve hurt her like that.”

“Josie, did you get a read on where Griffin went to school?” Jensen grabs his phone, cross referencing Griffin’s name and the name of the surrounding schools.  Once he finds the correct one, he continues searching for female students with the same last name, and I see her picture. 

She’s smiling, those beautiful eyes shining so innocently.  Placing my hand over my mouth, I have to concentrate on gulping in fresh air so I don’t heave all over the place.  “That’s her,” I rasp.

“Kali Griffin.  She was three years younger.”  The way Jensen’s jaw clenches makes me cringe, knowing that has to hurt.  “That means that Griffin has been killing since he was seventeen years old, that we know of.  The bastard’s been ruining lives for nine years, even before he went to my father to sharpen his abilities.  How did Jackson not sense this?  How didn’t he feel what he has done before this week?” anger spills into Jensen’s words. 

Darrin places his hand on Jensen’s shoulder, “I don’t know, Rider.  It doesn’t matter how Jackson didn’t know.  All that matters is that we do now, and that we’re going to make damn sure to stop him.”

Jensen

Saige’s neck is marred with bruises and deep scratches from how hard she fought to free herself from Griffin’s phantom hands.  He wasn’t there.  He wasn’t choking her.  But she felt it.  She felt him as he strangled his little sister nine years ago.  How that’s possible is eluding the hell out of me.

The article about Kali contributed her death to an unknown assailant.  Her murder is still listed as unsolved.  Saige was adamant about calling the cops, but her telling an officer that she channeled Kali’s death or felt the aura of Griffin’s emotions because of their connection, or whatever the hell she did back there, would only land her back inside an institution.  The second we have anything concrete on Griffin, the cops will be the first people I call.  If they get to him first – fine – but if they don’t, I’ll have no regrets killing the bastard.  I should feel something about that…guilt, grief, shock.  I don’t.  I’m not sure what that makes me but, right now, I’m not giving a damn.  All I care about is making sure Griffin can’t hurt Saige again, no matter what that makes me, even if it makes me a murderer.

Looking over at her, Saige sits with her socked feet propped up on a box and her iPod buds shoved in her ears.  Her hair cascades in soft waves down her shoulders.  Wisps of the dark chocolate strands frame her beautiful face, making every piece of me need every piece of her.  There’s no denying I need and crave Saige physically.  How the beast in my jeans cocks violently at every thought of her proves that.  But I need her emotionally, too.  Without her, there’s only pain.  I need her to feel what’s good, everything that’s pure.  I need her to just fuckin’ feel. 

She gives me a wink and a flirtatious smile, trying to hide how scared she is.  I guess we’re both doing that.  She saw an image of Kali before she died, not an image of her after.  At least she’s not seeing ghosts.  If she were, I think she would probably check herself into an institution from how badly she doesn’t want that ability. 

“Darrin said there’s a hotel a mile up the road,” Josie calls back to us from the driver’s seat. 

“I’ll call James,” I respond, rubbing my hand across the back of my neck.  We’ve been driving hard since this morning and are close to Hazelton, Pennsylvania.  Well, Samantha and Josie have done the driving with my being on the phone and computer most of the day making arrangements and ordering parts to build the bikes for Skeller’s new shops.  He wants cutting edge designs and I’ve been working on several that would fit his style. 

Darrin’s been on his computer trying to figure out anything more about Griffin and the abilities he seems to possess.  I feel like I should be helping him but, as Andy pointed out before we left, I’m going to lose the shop if I don’t take care of business.  He knows how hard I’ve worked for this.  I’ve busted my ass to open Reckless on Rails.  What he doesn’t realize is that I’ve been busting my ass even harder, burning the damn candle at both ends during this hunt, staying awake most of the night coming up with these designs while trying to figure out how in the hell to catch Griffin. 

It’s not just me who’s dependent on Reckless on Rails.  Andy, Darrin, and Axe are as well.  I’ve made sure they’ve been paid, hiding how their paychecks have been coming from my savings the past two weeks.  Darrin sealing the deal with Skeller saved all our asses, even though I know none of them would have any problems finding a job with their talent – me either, but I don’t want to work for anyone else.  I’ve heard orders barked at me my entire life.  There’s no way in hell I’m going to be under someone’s authority now.  I’ve made sure to never run Reckless on Rails like I’m their boss and I know they wouldn’t want to be put into a position to where they’d have to work for someone who does.

Saige picks up her violin, bag, and Dad’s journals when Josie pulls into the second level of the parking deck.  She’s already read three of them but hasn’t said anything.  I’ve read a couple of the ones she hasn’t been using, but nothing in there has been helpful so far, especially with Dad not putting names with abilities.  When Saige put the fourth journal she was reading down, I could tell there was something in it that affected her.  She’s damn good at hiding her emotions from everyone else, but she can’t hide them from me.  She never could.  I’ll have to be sure to read that one next.

“How you holding up, princess?” Andy asks, bumping Saige’s shoulder as he jumps from James’ vehicle.

“No worries, I didn’t do permanent damage to my throat, which means I can still run my mouth and give you hell,” she teases. 

Andy’s laugh seems to ease her, or maybe it’s his relief she feels that’s doing it.  I don’t care which it is.  I’m just happy he’s calming her.  Saige is uncomfortable with all the attention she’s getting, but the way she clawed at her throat didn’t just terrify me; she scared the shit out of everyone in that room when she lived the moments before Kali’s death.  A shiver runs down my spine, leaving a cold, hard knot in my gut at how she almost died Kali’s death.  At least the strangulation part. 

James nods towards Stephen as we drag our exhausted butts into the hotel.  “Stephen’s connection is stronger.  We’re getting closer to Griffin.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know.  The last read he got was near Boston.  He’s stopped or slowed down now.  Either way, he’s not seeing signs of where he’s at or Stephen and Josie would be able to see them, too.  What about Sam?  Has she gotten a read on him building a new bomb?”

Blowing out a long breath, I shake my head.  “No.  The fragment from his other bomb hasn’t left her hand, unless she’s been driving, but she’s felt nothing.  I don’t know why that isn’t making me feel any easier than I do.  I doubt the prick’s holding off on the bomb and I’m worried that he’s switched his recipe, using different materials so Sam can’t get a feel on him.”

“You think he knows about us.  About everything we can do?” James asks, his concern undeniable. 

“There’s no other explanation for him being a step ahead of us for this long.  I just don’t know how he knows.”  I glance at Saige for the hundredth time today, and she shakes her head.  She doesn’t feel Griffin.  She hasn’t since we’ve left his home, and I’m grateful as hell for that.  Taking her hand, I pull her close, needing to feel her next to me. 

Axe tosses the keycards to each of us and I wrap my arm around Saige on the way to the room.  Hardly any words are spoken as she tangles herself up in me, her body soft and so damn tempting as she lays her head on my chest, almost immediately falling asleep. 

It’s just after 1:00 a.m. when a sharp knee to my stomach knocks me awake.  Saige is twisted in the sheets, a thin sheen of sweat slickening her skin as she struggles in her sleep.  I hear her mumbling Sam’s name, and I gently shake her.  Her eyes are wild with despair when she opens them, taking a few seconds to register her surroundings. 
Dammit, I know that look
.

“Samantha?” I ask, anger pulsing hotly through my veins, dreading the answer I already know.

“Yeah,” she exhales raggedly.

“When?”

“I don’t know.”

“How?” I bark, not meaning to sound harsh with her but failing miserably at controlling my emotions with knowing Sam’s going to die if we don’t stop it, which would’ve been a helluva lot easier if I didn’t interrupt the vision.

Saige’s head falls into her hands and she pulls her knees tightly against her chest, “I didn’t see much.  Just a man and a gun and-” her words trail “-and Sam.”

“
FUCK!
” Slamming my fist against the wooden headboard, Saige jumps, wrapping her arms tighter around her knees.  “Shit, baby.  I’m sorry,” I breathe, raking my hand through my hair as I pull her into me, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.  She’s a friend.  I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“You’re sorry?  Why?”

“Because I’ve been able to prevent deaths and horrible things from happening for years, but I can’t do anything when it comes to people close to you.”

“I’m the one who prevented you from seeing more, Saige.  Not you,” I state firmly, taking her face in my hands. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll have another vision.  I always do.”

“You said a man.  It wasn’t Griffin?”

Her confusion clouds her face and she bites her lip as she exhales deeply.  “No.”

I feel like shit wishing for another vision to happen, knowing how much they hurt her, but I need to know what the hell is going on. 

“It’s okay,” she whispers soothingly.  “I’m wanting this vision, too.  Sam’s my friend now as well.”

Brushing my lips against her forehead, I cradle her head against my chest.  “For someone who can’t feel me, you sure know how to read what I’m thinking.” I slide back down the bed, pulling her along with me.  “I’m right here with you, pretty girl.  Focus on that, alright.”

Her chin rubs against my chest as she nods. 

Reaching for my cell, I call Andy and tell him what Saige sensed, asking him to stay with Sam.  I know that won’t be a hard thing for him to do.  I’ve seen how he looks at her, differently than how he looks at other women.  He wants her.  I’ve seen plenty of women pine after Andy, but Sam’s careful, cautious.  She’s not one to show much of anything she’s feeling.  If she has a thing for Andy as well, she wouldn’t show it, either.

Saige is quiet and I think she’s drifted back to sleep when she raises her head, her chin pressed against my chest as she looks up at me.  “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”  I brush my hand down her long hair, tangling silky locks around my fingers. 

“Do you believe in God?” she asks, those dark, caramel eyes closely studying my reaction.

“Every single time I think of you, it proves His existence, Saige,” I state simply, my words certain.  “I could never doubt God is real.  Not since the day I met you.”

Those beautiful eyes soften but I still see her worry.  “Do you think He believes in me?”

Wiping a stray tear away with my thumb, I can’t help but grin, “How could He not when you’re here because that is what’s meant to be?”

“You think I’m meant to be?  That I’m meant to be like this?” The pain I hear in her voice guts me.

“I’ve never been surer of anything except of my certainty that, not only are you meant to be like this, exactly who you are, you’re meant to be with me.”

  Saige doesn’t say anything else, just continues to study me for a minute before giving me that heartbreaking smile. 

I can’t take away her pain, but I sure as hell can show her she’s loved.  Taking the hem of her tank top, I slip it over her head, then slide her soft pink panties down her legs, never taking my eyes off hers.  My fingers find her wrists and I press my palms against her palms, covering her long, slim fingers with mine before slipping each one between the spaces of my larger, stronger ones. 

Her inner strength puts mine to shame, but she has nothing on my physical strength.  I could easily hurt her, leave permanent scars, or worse.  I would die before doing that, but Saige has been subjected to the strength of others in crippling ways all her life.  She’s been emotionally beaten down by her parents and by experiencing other people’s heartaches.  Knowing she’s been physically hurt as well by the sadistic bastards at the institution and by the hands of the ones who are supposed to love her the most makes me want to maim them but, mostly, it makes me want to show her a strength that takes away all the shit in her life.  I wish to hell my strength was enough to take away her pain.  I would give her every ounce of mine if it did.  For now, I’ll use my strength to love her and give her at least a small reprieve. 

No words are needed as I lower my mouth against her lips, softly caressing her bottom lip with my tongue before tangling it with the warm, wet flesh of hers.  Deepening the kiss, I gently glide inside her, rocking slowly as she raises her hips, welcoming me further into her depths.  Grinding my jaw, I force myself to hold back, to be painstakingly gentle as I love her.  By the reverence in her eyes and the soft moans purring through her lips, I’m delivering exactly what I planned.  Her trust in me brings me to my knees and my dick to a swollen throb pulsing inside her wet heat, exalting her and everything she makes me feel.  Even when she thought I sent her to hell, she knew I couldn’t have known about what they did to her.  She knows I’ll never hurt her.  She knows I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who does.  What she doesn’t know is just how far I’ll go to protect her.  Wordlessly, I show her that tonight.

Saige is sleeping peacefully in my arms.  It’s been three hours since she drifted to sleep after we made love, and I can’t seem to close my eyes as I hold her, caressing her soft hair that falls down the smooth, tan skin of her back.  The ambivalence of wanting her to have this vision so we can protect Sam, but not wanting Saige to ever experience pain and suffering again, is tearing me up.  I’d fight for Saige.  Hell, I’d kill and die for this girl without the slightest hesitation.  Seeing her hurting fucking kills me. 

It’s not yet dawn when Saige begins to whimper, her head thrashing against my chest.  Gritting my teeth, I force myself not to wake her as she gets a glimpse into Sam’s final moments.  Doing all I know to do to help her, I wrap my arm around her waist, brushing my lips against her head as my fists clench so damn tight, my fingers go numb, as Saige’s body shows more and more signs of her distress.

A gasp bursts from her lips and she bolts upright in bed.  I can feel the pounding of her heart against my palm as I pull her close.  “He’s here,” she mumbles, shaking her head like she’s baffled by what she saw.