Haunted (State v. Sefore) (5 page)

Chapter Five

M
addison jogged toward
the hospital entrance as the cold seeped through her clothes. The perils of scrubs. She should’ve planned to change here instead of at school. Oh well, too late now. She sped to the elevators, her bag swinging in time with her pace. While she waited for the doors to open, she rubbed her hands together. A blast of heat warmed her.

Noah would be on duty today, right? After all, he’d been off yesterday and the day before. Entering the open elevator, she pushed the button for med/surg. Anticipation danced under her skin, leaving her jittery. She’d spent only two shifts, eight hours, in his company. How had he claimed a spot in her head in such a short amount of time? It was just because he was new, right? The doors opened on the second floor. Noah’s mussed walnut-colored hair poked out from behind the nurses’ station. She didn’t even try to fight the stupid grin spreading across her face as she smoothed a hand over her bun. Her other hand flew down to her pocket for her lip gloss. Oh no, definitely intrigued.

“Hey, you.” She tried to cover her excitement by giving the most casual greeting she could think of.

His head popped up, and he smiled, one side of his mouth a little more obedient than the other. “Hey, yourself. I hoped I’d see you today.”

Warmth spread through her and short-circuited her plan to play it cool. “Me too.”

“I’m glad to hear it. How was your morning?”

“Long. This year seems to be dragging by.”

“Any particular reason?” He leaned back in the rolling chair he’d commandeered, his eyes twinkling. Stupid green eyes. They made her want to spill all her secrets.

“I guess because I already know what’s in my future, and I want to move on to it. There’s so much more I want to see.” And do. Like support the resistance.

“You sound like my brother.”

The clinical words made her want to shrug out of the comparison. “But not you?”

He sighed. “Traveling and new experiences, they’re great, but they come up lacking after awhile. I’d rather spend the rest of my life in one place.”

“Why don’t you then?” Something painful flickered through his face, and she wished she hadn’t asked. “Never mind. What’s going on here?”

The lines across his forehead began to recede. “It’s been busy but not bad. Normal vitals and blood sugar numbers for everyone so far. No major dressing emergencies. And no bed baths today.” His nose wrinkled at this. “It’s time to chart vitals again. You want to come with me?”

“Sure.” She stepped forward to scan her ID at the terminal when four tones sounded from it and every other terminal and vidcom on the floor. Everyone in sight stopped—their attention fixed on the nearest screen.

Assistant Regional Liquidator Watkins’ voice echoed through the halls. “At 1:57 p.m. today, Rachel Ann Grady was liquidated due to her actions as an enemy of Patrisia.”

Maddison’s hand shot out to grasp the solid wood desk to keep herself upright. Rachel’s yearbook photo flashed onto the screen. She sat beside Maddison in both English and Calculus.

Watkins continued, “A neighbor reported Grady’s proselytizing to a liquidator, and a search of her house revealed a collection of Mormon literature.”

Sweet Rachel, who’d never hurt anyone? Beside her, Noah muttered a curse. Maddison closed her eyes to stop the shifting of the walls around them. See, God couldn’t exist. Not in a world where governments murdered people like her parents and Rachel, where people like Josh got hurt for no good reason. If he did, Maddison wanted no part of him.

“I do not need to remind MA-4’s inhabitants about the intolerant and hate-filled religious philosophy of Mormonism, like Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. These groups would enslave Patrisia’s citizens with archaic rules and small-minded tenets, which is why Potentate Marcioni has banned all practice of religion. The Elite will eliminate any, like Grady, who seek to take others in our fair metro area captive with their insipid beliefs. We will never again see violence from their hands as we did thirty years ago. Our society remains free, and even more so today with Grady’s liquidation.”

A sour taste filled Maddison’s mouth as Watkins signed off. The screens returned to their previous settings. The old propaganda turned her stomach. Marcioni had played on the nation’s fears during the Religious Uprising and declared a federal state of emergency, giving him the ability to bypass Congress, a power he never relinquished. Students studied and reviewed the written history each spring on the anniversary of the failed coup. Maddison, however, had heard the rumors that claimed the religious were victims, scapegoats in the potentate’s grand production. Real Christians, Jews, and Muslims played no part in those bloody months. No, Marcioni had demolished freedom of religion because faith-based groups protested his presidential policies. Even then, the potentate did not tolerate criticism.

Yet another reason she should join those who called for a return to freedom and democracy. And if Taylor was willing to risk her own life to pilfer antibiotics from the hospital pharmacy for Josh, maybe she would understand Maddison’s need to act. Maybe. But Jakob?

A hand touched her arm. “You okay?” Noah stood beside her, his eyes shadowed.

“I knew her.” She relaxed her grip on the desk and swallowed back the lump in her throat.

“I’m sorry.” His quiet apology brought tears to her eyes.

She had to snap out of it, get back to work. Shaking her head to clear the last five minutes from her thoughts, she swiped her card across the scanner and clipped it to her front pocket. “You said something about vital signs?”

He tilted his head and studied her for a moment. “For beds eight through twenty-three.”

“Let’s not keep them waiting.”

*

Her shift had flown by, even with the extra mandated hour. A full floor and Noah’s presence helped keep thoughts of Rachel at bay. Slipping back into her jeans, white angora sweater and green ballet flats, Maddison thought back over the last five hours. Noah had been sensitive yet firm with the patients, confident in his tasks, and straightforward and honest with her. Everything she looked for in a friend. She smiled to herself. A very cute friend.

Hearing movement at the front of the room, she stuffed her scrubs into her bag. Maybe he hadn’t left yet. She jerked the zipper closed and exited the changing area. Noah spun the combination on his locker and turned to face her, slipping into his jacket.

She pulled down her hair with a tug. “That was nicely timed.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. A couple of blinks and a chagrined smile preceded his answer. “Pure coincidence, I assure you.”

She stepped closer to the cliff. “I don’t mind.”

His hands disappeared in his pockets. “I’m glad. Since I don’t really know anyone, I was hoping we could be friends.”

She gripped the handle of her bag tighter, forced her smile not to slip. Friends. Sure. She could do that. “Wanna walk out together?”

He shifted his elbow out to her with a smile. She shook her head but took it. “What is this, the 1800s?”

“I’ve always been a man out of time.” Something sharp sliced through his words.

She wanted it gone. “Okay, so, what time period fits you then?”

Seconds ticked by, and silence filled the space between them. Noah’s arm stiffened under her hand. She glanced up at him. What changed? He straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders. His face became granite, and though they continued toward her car, he angled his body in front of hers. Tension radiated through him and into her. She bit her bottom lip and swallowed her questions.

Steps away from her car, she peeked around Noah. A bear of a man towered over a trembling teenager on the other side of the lot, hurling choice words and insults. He took a menacing step toward the sandy-haired young man, who couldn’t be more than thirteen. Noah laid a hand on her arm.

“Maddison, get in your car and lock the doors.”

She nodded and obeyed. He watched her follow his directions before striding toward the pair.

She wanted to throw open the door and tell him to come back. He was no match for the larger man, but she sat still, her heart pounding, and hoped he would be okay.

Within four feet, the pair noticed him, and when the man rounded on Noah, Maddison’s hand flew to her mouth. Though she couldn’t hear what Noah said, his opponent’s crossed arms transmitted how unwelcome Noah’s interference was. He stood his ground though, nodding toward the young boy who cowered to his right. The man let out a roar and swung at Noah.

In a flash of movements, Noah dodged the punch and knocked his assailant to the ground. It had happened so fast, she wasn’t sure how he did it. Flipping the man over and pinning his arms, Noah held him down with a knee in his back, motioning to the young man to go inside. The teenager shifted on his feet for a moment but obeyed. Noah’s gaze fixed on the back of the man’s head. He didn’t speak long, but the clenched jaw gave away his agitation.

The man gave a begrudging nod, and Noah eased to his feet but didn’t move away. Maddison’s free hand clenched the door handle. The man moved to his own car and drove away while Noah watched, motionless.

He took several deep breaths before starting toward her. She didn’t exhale until he stood in front of her window. Her trembling hand opened the car door. “How did you do that? What possessed you to go over there?”

“He was bullying his son. Someone needed to step in.”

She agreed with him, but her pulse still thrummed. “But what if he comes back? Causes trouble for you?”

“He won’t.” His forehead furrowed again, and he shifted away. “Did I scare you?”

Her hand shot out to stop his retreat. “Of course you didn’t scare me. You protected me and that boy. I’m glad you stepped in. You did the right thing. It’s just … maybe I was a little afraid for you.”

Noah’s furrows lessened. “I can promise you I am very aware of my limitations. But I’m sorry I made you nervous.” He laid a hand on hers. “Thank you for caring.”

“You’re welcome.”

His gaze fell to the ground a moment before returning to her own. “I’ll be off when you come back on Sunday and Monday. So, guess I’ll see you on Tuesday?”

“Definitely.” She gave his hand a squeeze.

A beautiful smile transformed his face. He stood. “Good. And don’t worry, when I see you, I’ll be sure to tell you exactly what time period I’m from.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“You do that. Be careful going home.”

She nodded and let him close the door. He waited until she gave the car her destination and pulled out of the parking space before waving his goodbye. She sighed. This was the worst possible time to have a crush.

Chapter Six

N
oah thanked the
barista and carried the steaming Americano to a corner table. So he could keep an eye on the customers in the small shop, he sat with his back against the wall. He pulled his copy of Homer’s
Odyssey
out of his messenger bag and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of cloth, paper, ink, and age. He missed this smell when using his v-compad, and since he’d studied enough background checks this morning to make his eyes cross, he needed a break. He ran a hand along the blue cover, one he’d painstakingly attached to the worn pages when the old one had begun to crack.

The stitches dotted the spine at even, neat intervals, showing how far he’d come since the first awkward attempt a year ago. Restoring that book had been a complete waste. The final product looked like a kindergartener had pasted the pages together, but he hadn’t given up because the act of preserving history allowed him a release. And now, he could read one of his favorites without fear it would crumble in his hands.

Cracking the first page, he savored the summary line, “The gods in council agree that the time has come for Odysseus to be brought home to avenge himself on Penelope’s suitors and recover his kingdom.” Odysseus also lived in a time of war, of deception, of dishonor, but at the center of his story stood a love triumphing over all odds. A love deeper than any circumstances or labels.

What he would never have.

He couldn’t afford to forget it. Relationships were off the table. Even though Maddison looked at him like he was a hero. Even though her laugh almost chased the darkness away.

None of that mattered. He wasn’t really Noah Seforé, and she was a suspect. Nothing more. He couldn’t lead either one of them to believe otherwise.

Taking a sip of coffee, he found the first line of the book again and forced himself to focus on the classic.

“Noah?”

He looked up and couldn’t even be surprised. But seeing Maddison, standing several feet away, caused a fissure in his mind. On one side, the Noah who cursed fate for testing his resolve and self-discipline. On the other, the man who wanted to jump up and guide her over to the chair opposite his.

“It is you.” Her hands cradled a steaming cup in front of her. “I thought it was just my imagination. How did you find this place? Only the locals know about it.”

The locals and her car’s GPS. He willed his heart to stop racing.
You’re a trained professional. Act like it.
“I can’t reveal my sources.”

She nodded her head several times before breaking out into a breathtaking smile. “Well, I wanted to come over and say hello, but I can see you’re busy.” She took a step back.

“You don’t have to go.” His gestured to the empty chair.

She gave him a hesitant smile. “You sure?”

“Homer’s not going anywhere. I can read him tonight.” Warning sirens still blared in his head, but he silenced them so he could focus on her response. Gaining her trust meant spending time with her. He just needed to be smart about it.

“Well, okay then.” She set her latte on the table, pulled out the chair across from him, and swung her jacket across the back of it. Her pale green shirt made the green flecks in her eyes more prominent. Beautiful eyes. They complimented her oval face, and the slight blush on her cheekbones? His fingers itched to touch it.

Well, those kind of thoughts had to stop. He curled his hand into a fist. “What are you up to today?”

“I had lunch with some friends up the street and decided to walk down for my first pumpkin spice latte of the season. This place has the best espresso in the MA. Plus, I had no other plans for the afternoon. Everyone else had places to be.”

“What if your friends were free?”

“I’d drag them all to the media archives. The main exhibit is a retrospective on the most influential comic artists of the last hundred years. My dad and I would’ve gone on opening day. It’s the kind of thing he loved.”

The light in her eyes indicated the answer, but he asked anyway. “And you love anything he did?”

She nodded. “He could talk for hours about art, graphic novels in particular, and he had this way of describing a piece and how it made him feel … you understood it, like the art breathed and spoke to you. He could make anyone love art.” She shook her head, her nose crinkling. “My mom didn’t share his gift. She introduced me to the great poets, but I never could figure them out, no matter how many ways I looked at a poem. She said I tried too hard to make sense of it. ‘Poetry is to be experienced not dissected.’” Maddison took a sip of latte. “Guess I’m too logical to enjoy it.”

“I can’t give poetry my full appreciation either, much more of a prose man myself.” He gestured to the book on the table. In fact, he detested poetry and avoided it at all costs.

“So, what about you? And your parents? I mean, if you don’t mind sharing.” She drew her hands into her lap, probably attempting to give him space.

Telling her about his family was necessary to further her trust, but unless he picked a story carefully, it also guaranteed an extra set of nightmares tonight. “When my brother Daniel and I started school, we would come home in the afternoon, and my mom would be sitting at the table with a couple glasses of milk and some treat. She loved to bake, and the kitchen always smelled like chocolate and cinnamon.” He could still picture her standing by the counter, rolling out piecrusts while she hummed her own melody.

Maddison smiled and nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“My dad was altogether different. His parents raised him to be hard, a man’s man. He didn’t know how to be anything else.” Noah ran a hand through his hair. “His parents emigrated from Italy, and he lectured Daniel and me for hours about our heritage. You can imagine how well that went over with us.” Unlike the vivid memories of his mom, time had weathered his view of his dad and softened the impressions somewhat. “But, when I turned twelve, he brought out this huge map of Italy and showed me all the places our ancestors lived. The map made everything more real. So I have him to thank for my love of history.”

“Does it get any better?”

His heart clenched at the pain shadowing her eyes. “Being without them, you mean?” She nodded, and he wished he could give her a different answer. “It hasn’t for me, but I might not be the best person to ask. Life would be better if they were still alive.”

“What happened?” Her tone implied compassion, but she didn’t tiptoe around the question.

He respected her more for it. “Car accident. A rich kid sped through a four-way stop. The paramedics told Daniel they died on impact.” The callous words still burned. His teeth ground together. “We’re supposed to be thankful for that.”

“I’m sorry.”

He took a deep breath and willed the resentment washing over him to subside. “It’s such a waste. I mean, impatience cost my parents their lives.”

“You must hate him.” The hard inflection sounded foreign coming from the sympathetic girl he’d come to know.

“It’s hard hating someone who’s dead.” He didn’t add that he had plenty of other reasons for hating Tristan Worthington, but his reasons paled in comparison to Daniel’s.

“What happened to him?”

“He was liquidated. Because of the hit-and-run. He might’ve found leniency had he not tried to pay that particular liquidator off.” Even as he said it, Noah corrected himself. Daniel had vengeance on his mind and a license to kill with the ink still wet. The socialite never stood a chance.

Maddison had gone still. Oh, right.

“What’s wrong?” Even though he already knew the answer.

“My parents were liquidated.” Her tone and stiff posture spoke of one emotion. Rage. It felt like a slap on the face. A confirmation.

Her body didn’t move, but her gaze surveyed the room. “I guess you’re grateful to whoever punished your parents’ killer, but I can’t see it that way. Someone accused my dad of treasonous activities, of promoting democracy in his graphic novels. So a liquidator killed him and my mom. He destroyed our house looking for evidence—after he killed them. He didn’t find a thing.” Somehow, the hushed tone of her words amplified the anger pouring off her.

Did she really not know about her parents’ beliefs? Or was this carefully edited version meant to protect herself and win him over to her side? He’d read Michael and Tamara James’ files. He knew the liquidator had proof of hidden pro-freedom messages and symbols in Michael’s Elite-approved works. Neither Michael nor Tamara denied it. As members of the Elite working in the Ministry of Media, they should’ve been more careful. They should’ve lied. Only liquidation awaited those who defied the potentate from within the Elite.

Still. They shouldn’t have died because of some hidden messages. Because of a pro-freedom graphic novel the liquidator couldn’t locate at the house. “I’m sorry, Maddison. Lawful or not, what he did was wrong. It’s a terrible system.”

Her narrowed eyes widened, her mouth forming an O. “Noah, you can’t say those things.”

Considering anyone might overhear their conversation and report it, she had reason to be concerned. Relief trickled down his spine—being careful about speaking out earned her a tentative mark in his above-suspicion pro/con list. Then again, caution didn’t equal innocence. He lowered his voice. “You’re right, but it’s still true.”

She deflated in front of him and tore tiny pieces off the sleeve on her cup. “I’m so mad about it, and not being able to be honest about how I feel just makes me angrier. I keep myself in check for Jakob’s sake, but I won’t ever forgive that man. I hope he rots in hell. I hope all of them do.”

One more mark for innocent. Another mark for guilty. She was a mess of contradictions, but one reality was clear: she could never know the truth about him.

“For what it’s worth, it’s safe to be honest with me.” Regardless of her loyalties, he’d be fair with her. Always fair.

She gave him a watery smile. “How do you always come up with the perfect response?”

“Luck?” He cupped the cooling mug in front of him.

Shaking her head, she leaned forward. “No, I think it’s more. I think it’s because you listen when people talk instead of hijacking the conversation for yourself. You’re kinda like my dad in that way.”

He didn’t deserve compliments or comparisons to people she loved. Time to refocus the conversation. “I’m pretty sure it’s luck. But enough about me. Besides hanging out at the media archives, what else do you like to do?”

“Well, I like to try new restaurants, find interesting places in the MA I’ve never been to before. I like to explore, I guess, and spend time with friends. Between school and the apprenticeship, I don’t have time for much more.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like enough. What are some of your favorite places you’ve stumbled into?”

She sat up straight with a light in her eyes and told him, beginning in the present city block and moving outward. She knew every piece of the metro area and had stories about each section. As she began to wind down, he drew her into new topics to keep her talking. She was appalled he didn’t watch TV or movies. He built a mental list of books to introduce her to.

The conversation shifted to his hobbies, and though she didn’t like to read, her questions showed she appreciated the skill and technique required for bookbinding. She had just asked to join him for a run sometime when her vidcom rang. Pulling it out of her pocket, she cringed when she saw the time and the caller ID.

She touched the screen, accepting the call. “Sorry I’m late, but I’m on my way, and I’ll explain when I get there. Ten minutes, I promise.” She disconnected and stood, grabbing her coat. “I was supposed to be home for dinner twenty minutes ago. Who knew two hours could pass so quickly, huh?”

“I had no idea.”

She smiled. “See you later?”

He nodded. “Later.” As she walked away, he sighed, grateful he didn’t have to dodge her invitation for company on his morning runs.

That would be a little too personal for him. From now on, he needed to plan out his interactions with her, so he could elicit information without crossing any more emotional lines. He couldn’t distance himself while her safety depended on him. He needed to clear her. Then he could build as much distance as needed.

It was time to go back to work. Tucking the unread book back into his bag, he headed for the door. He turned to grab his mug and collided with someone.

“Oh, good. You haven’t left.” Maddison pulled back, face flushed. “I got to thinking, you should come over for dinner one night. Not tonight of course, but maybe next Friday? You could meet Aunt Taylor and Jakob. Enjoy some real conversation and a home-cooked meal?”

He froze. “Um, I’m not sure, that’s …”

“I think you should come. It’ll be good for you. Come next Friday.”

“Let me think about it.”

“You can think about it, but I’m going to keep asking until you say yes.” With that, she swung around and headed for the door.

He was sure she meant it. And that he would regret it.

Bring on the pain.