Magnetic Shift (20 page)

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Authors: Lucy D. Briand

BOOK: Magnetic Shift
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This was it, wasn’t it? My worst nightmare come to life. I’d been thrown into an institution, or locked up in a research facility. “Oh, God, no. Not now, please.”

“Shhh, Lexi. It’s me … it’s Dean.”

This time the voice registered. I looked at him. “Dean?”

“It’s me, kiddo.”

I took another panicked look around the room. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital.”

Hospital? I took a moment to digest the word and then
forcibly relaxed.

“Why am I in a hospital? What’s happened … oh, God, did I …?”

“Shhh. It’s okay. Just lay back down. You’re okay.” Dean put his hands on my shoulders and guided me back down until my head rested on the pillow. He leaned over me, his face etched with worry and relief.

Quick, unsequenced images of an accident sped through my mind. The bittersweet smell of fuel, the scorching scent of burning rubber, and the sound of twisting metal began to accompany the memory flashes. It was all coming back to me.

“Colton!”

“He’s okay. Colton is fine,” Dean tried to reassure me, but the look on his face told another story. Was he lying to me?

“Where is he? Where’s Colton?”

“The doctors cleared him to leave yesterday. He wanted to stay here with you, but I made him go home. He’s pretty banged up, but after a little rest, he should be good to get back in the saddle for next weekend’s race.” A faint smile formed on Dean’s lips, but the look of concern still lingered in his features.

Bad news was coming.

“But, Lexi, something
did
happen.” I knew it.

“It’s … Mitch.”

My insides twitched. “Is he …?”

“No, but he’s in critical condition. There was this freak outcome to the accident that no one can explain.” Dean rubbed his forehead between his thumb and fingers. “Whatever it was, it saved Colton, but Mitch didn’t get so lucky.”

Freak outcome? As in
my
outcome? I sprung forward again, but Dean anticipated my move and held his arm out across the
upper part of my chest and shoulders. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you this so soon.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Doctors don’t know yet. It’s touch and go. But you shouldn’t worry about that right now.” He slid his arm back, pausing to give my shoulder a gentle rub.

“Lexi, do you have any medical conditions I should tell the doctors about?”

“I don’t think so, why? Did they find something wrong with me?” I’d avoided doctors since my curse had morphed, afraid that my ability could be physiologically detectable.

“That’s just it. They couldn’t find anything wrong with you, which makes it difficult to explain why you were covered in blood. Or why the roof of the hauler dented in under you.”

“What day is it?”

“It’s Tuesday. You’ve been out for a few days.”

Days? I’d been here for days? Bile rose to the back of my throat. I’d been in fear of my ability for years, but now I was just plain terrified. I’d never lost control this big before. How was it even possible?

“What the hell happened up there, Lex?”

I turned away and stared out the small gap in the window curtains. Sunlight spilled in, glaring off the dust particles drifting through the air. Probably late morning or early afternoon, by the looks of it. What could I say? It was me? That I was the one who launched Mitch’s car through the air? I turned my head back toward him. “I don’t know.”

“You should’ve seen Carl’s face when I brought you down the ladder. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.” Dean moved his hand into mine and brushed a strand of my hair off my face
with his other. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

I faced the curtains again, too ashamed to look him in the eye. How could I tell him? How could I make someone normal believe that I had the ability to magnetize and control steel and iron with a simple thought? That because of me, Mitch Benson might die? He would have me committed.

“I hate to suggest this, but maybe I should give Carl a call. Maybe he could tell us what happened.”

“Dean, no. Please don’t do that. The doctor said I was fine, right? Why bring him into all this?”

“Don’t you want to know what happened to you? Maybe something he tells us will trigger your memory—”

I tensed and shook my head. “Please don’t. Promise me you won’t.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t.” He was confused. I could tell. But what else could I do?

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have let myself lose control like that? I had this thing controlled for two whole years before Colton came along. And even then, I thought I’d nipped that problem in the bud as of late. But obviously I’d been wrong. At Gwen’s party, when I’d mentally flung the pitcher of water at her, I hadn’t meant to, but I’d been jealous. She’d kissed Colton right in front of me. And at the track, when I saw Mitch going after Colton again, I wanted to protect him. Protect Colton. All these outbursts still revolved around Colton and my feelings for him.

The walls were closing in on me. I couldn’t breathe. “I want to get out of here. Please get me out of here.” My voice cracked.

“Lexi … I really think we should at least—”

“No,” I cut him off. I looked him, my eyes thick, my face burning.

Dean’s shoulders fell. “Let me get the doctor and see if we can have you discharged.”

He left the room. A tear broke free and rolled down toward my chin. I quickly wiped it away and inspected my hand. No blood. I exhaled in relief.

My eyes had never bled before. I’d also never hurtled a car in the air from a distance before, either. Every ounce of my body wanted to protect Colton that night, and my ability had fed on that fact. But at what cost? Would I be responsible for Mitch’s death if he didn’t make it? Could I live with the guilt of killing someone? I glanced around the hospital room. Had I almost killed myself?

Dean reappeared at my side some minutes later. “The doctor said you can go home in the morning. They just want to keep you under observation for one more night.”

I groaned.

“They would have released you right away if the MRI machine hadn’t broken down while you were in it.”

“They took an MRI?” Not good …
so
not good.

“Apparently something went wonky when they tried to scan your brain. The images wouldn’t show up. Without the machine and the scans, they want to keep an eye on you a bit longer.”

Polarized magnets. They were lucky I hadn’t subconsciously destroyed the thing. I still had nightmares about some of Roy’s fridge magnets launching themselves and shattering the window when I walked into the kitchen the day after my freakout at the high school. It took me a while to learn how to control that. Of course, Roy thought I’d actually chucked them
on purpose and gave me a good smack across the face for it.

“Get some rest. I’ll go call home and let Lorna and Colton know you’re awake.”

I let my head sink fully into the pillow and exhaled a long breath. Why hadn’t I just gone back home when I had the chance? Mitch wouldn’t be in the intensive care unit, and I wouldn’t feel so shitty for having to lie and dodge questions to keep my secrets.

Then again, Colton probably would’ve died.

The doctors discharged me in the morning, but my blood tests revealed a slight iron deficiency. Go figure. So after prescribing me some iron supplements—which I had no plans on taking, for obvious reasons—they suggested that I follow up with Dean’s family doctor in a week. Dean had the appointment set up by the time we landed in Atlanta.

When the truck rolled to a stop outside the main entrance to the shop not fifteen minutes after leaving the airport, I looked up, dazed and half-asleep.

“Why are we stopping here?”

“I need to grab a few things from the office.” He stepped out. “Don’t worry, everyone’s gone for the day. The receptionist is the only one still here. I called ahead and asked her to stay until I got here.”

I coiled into a ball against the seat and yawned.

“C’mon kiddo. I’m not leaving you out here.”

Ugh, did I have to? I reached for the handle, pushed the door open with my shoulder, and let myself slide down from
the truck.

Dean pulled the front door open to let me in, and both our heads darted toward the sound of Becky’s heels clicking against the industrial tile flooring as she ran toward us. She reminded me of Mrs. Carter, my first grade teacher, when she’d run down the school hallways in her four-inch heels during fire drills, looking like that gold-plated robot from the Star Wars movies.

“Mr. Grant! Mr. Grant, I’m so sorry, sir, I couldn’t stop him. He insisted on staying.”

“Stop who?” Dean’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“Mr. Stacy is waiting in your office.”

“Carl Stacy?”

“Yes, sir.”

I clenched my hands to hide the fact that they were trembling. The image of Carl staring at me from his hauler floated through my mind. He’d seen what I’d done. But I also knew what he’d done. Did Dean know about that yet?

“Here are the papers you wanted.”

Becky handed him a brown, letter-sized envelope. Dean plucked it from her perfectly French manicured hand. “Did Mr. Stacy say what he wanted?”

She shook her head. “He wouldn’t say. He just barged in when I was collecting the documents you asked me for in your office, and then sat down and said he wasn’t moving until you arrived. I’m so sorry, Mr. Grant.”

“That’s okay, Becky.” He gave her a reassuring tap on the shoulder. “I’ll deal with him. Thanks for your help tonight.” He turned to me. “Come on, Lex.”

Dean opened the door to his office and let me in first. Carl sat in the pleather sofa against the wall to my right.

“Carl.” Dean strolled in behind me. “Can I ask why you made yourself at home in my office after hours?”

Carl stood, eyed me, then faced Dean. “We have a serious matter to discuss.”

“Oh? This should be good.” Dean moved behind his desk, but remained standing. I cowered in the corner near the door, contemplating an escape.

“This new girl of yours …” He held his hat pinched between his thumb and ring finger and pointed it at me. “I know what she did. I don’t know how she did it, but
she
wrecked my car.”

Oh, shit.

“Excuse me, Carl, but what in Sam Hill are you talking about?”

“This young lady here, she can move things. Move things with her mind. I saw her do it, plain as day, and I’m pretty sure NASCAR would consider that cheating.”

Dean laughed. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?”

“Oh, I know, but that girl is the devil’s child and I’m going to find a way to prove it. And believe me, when I do, your little operation here”—he swept his hat in front of him—“will cease to exist.”

Dean scowled. “It’s one thing to mouth off some wild accusations at me, but to come here and threaten my business, my employees, my livelihood? You’ve got some nerve, my friend.”

“I’m warnin’ ya, Dean. I know what I saw.”

Dean bashed his palms on the surface of his desk so hard my nerves twitched. “No, I’m warning you. That stunt you pulled out on the track on Sunday did not go unnoticed. NASCAR
might not have enough evidence to prove that you were behind the sabotage of my car and my equipment, but I know it was you and when I link you to that, adding to the crap you pulled over the airwaves, you won’t even be allowed near a set of car keys.”

Carl flinched when Dean raised his finger at him.

“Yes, Carl. NASCAR made me privy to your blackmail conversation with Mitch about putting Colton in the wall. You’re already facing a fine and a possible suspension for that, but I can assure you that if they prove you’re responsible for the sabotages, too, they will ban you for life.”

“We’ll just see about that. Meanwhile, I’d keep an eye on little Miss Magic Fingers if I were you.” He pointed at me. “I may not have proof of her freaky-deaky psycho powers, but she had somethin’ to do with what happened to Mitch and my car. You and I both know cars don’t just catapult into the air like that, and she’s costing me my championship.”

“Get out, Carl, before I call security.”

“I’m telling you, Dean, if you don’t take her off the team, I will expose her. And then we’ll see what NASCAR has to say.”

“Get out!”

Carl put his hands up, pantomiming surrender. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He winked at me with a grin sprawled across his fat, mustache wearin’ face, and walked out. Dean fell into his desk chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I’d done this. I’d caused him all this stress, when all he tried to do was give me a better chance. I couldn’t let this go on.

“Send me home.”

Dean let his hand fall on his desk and narrowed his eyes.

“What?”

I moved toward him. “Send me home. You don’t need me causing you any more trouble.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Carl’s just blowing smoke. I am not sending you back to that sadistic …” He pursed his lips and took a deep breath through his nose. “You deserve better than that.”

“You have to. There’s no other choice. I can’t be the cause of you losing your teams.” Tears squeezed out the corners of my eyes and streamed down my face. “Because of me, Colton’s racing career could be over.”

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