Silverlighters (10 page)

He let go quickly, studying my face as he balled his hands into fists as though not quite sure what to do with them.

My breath caught in my throat as he swiped away my angry tears with his thumbs, a deep and terrible sadness in his eyes that I hadn’t expected.

“You knew – that something was going to happen.” I choked the words out through angry, burning sobs. “All of you did. Why didn’t you stop it?”

He didn’t try to deny it. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice low as he glanced warily behind me. “There was nothing I could do.”

“What do you mean? Nothing you could do – you could have warned us! You could have–”

He put a finger to my lips, sending another jolt through me. His voice was soft and urgent. There was real pain in his eyes. “We’re not allowed to interfere.”

And suddenly the others were there.

“Jonathon,” Morgan warned.

“Get out of here.” Jonathon lunged for Morgan, murder in his eyes as something seemed to break deep inside him. “She’s right. We should have stopped it. We–”

Morgan’s arm shot out with lightning speed, connecting firmly with Jonathon’s jaw. The force of his punch was so strong it sent Jonathon sprawling backwards across the ground.

“Pull yourself together,” Morgan’s fierce voice cut through the gasps of shock and surprise.

“Have you no shame?” a voice roared.

It was Mr. Jones.

Behind him, Chris’s father was literally holding Chris’s mother on her feet as she swayed unsteadily. Chris’s little brother stared at
them,
his eyes wide.

The fight went out of me.

I have never in my life felt so ashamed as I did at that moment.

Chris’s father led his mother away, the sounds of her sobs tearing at my heart. But when his grandfather’s sad blue eyes met mine, they were filled with pity.

“All of you. Go to the office. Now,” Mr. Jones snapped.

Morgan looked as though he was going to defy Mr. Jones.

But then he flicked a warning glare at Jonathon, his face still so calm even then – the warning only in his eyes.

Jonathon nodded, and Morgan turned, the others falling into step behind him, leaving me alone with Jonathon.

I watched as they walked away, feeling lost and confused as Jonathon’s words echoed through my head.

We’re not allowed to interfere
.

My thoughts were random and jumbled. I wondered what he meant – how he could possibly have known. How any of them could.

Man dies in explosion

The words flashed across my vision as someone took my arm, leading me toward the office.

I knew who it was without looking. It was Jonathon. I could tell by the electrifying heat of his hand and his smell – sweet and musky and so very, very male.

As the truth hit me, I felt as though I’d been smashed in the stomach with a sledgehammer.

My heart clenched.

My stomach convulsed, threatening to empty its meager contents.

It – it just wasn’t possible. None of it was possible.

But I’d seen the article for myself. I’d seen the date.

I’d also seen a different headline. That the future wasn’t set in stone.

That it could be changed.

Of course, that did nothing to help Chris now. It was already too late for him.

And it was too late for my mother.

I turned my head toward Jonathon, and that was when I noticed he was wearing a blue armband.

None of the others were.

11

As we waited on the old, cracked vinyl seats outside the office, my mind was in turmoil.

Jonathon sat beside me. The others were a few seats away, much too close for my liking.

I had always felt that my mother had known something was going to happen to her that day.

But what I didn’t understand was why she didn’t try to stop it.

Why she left me and my father alone.

“I was supposed to die, too,” I gasped, the face of the boy with the silver eyes flashing across my vision.

I sucked in a shaky breath and glanced up.

Jonathon couldn’t meet my eye.

I grabbed his chin with my hand and forced him to look at me. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

He didn’t answer, but it was all the answer I needed.

I glanced up at Madison, and saw the truth of it in her eyes.

Her eyes were wide and calculating as she watched me put the pieces together.

A shudder ripped through me as I looked over at the others.

Lanita and Andrew quickly turned their heads, their faces giving nothing away. No surprises there.

Morgan was standing directly across from Jonathon, towering over us. I had no idea how he got there. I didn’t see him move from his chair.

His powerful body was tense and alert as he glared at Jonathon. His dark brown eyes were filled with warning, the whites of his eyes standing out against the rich, milk-chocolate tones of his skin. His hair was cropped close to his face, and it made him suddenly look older and more dangerous than ever.

I turned to Jonathon. “We need to talk,” I said under my breath.

Jonathon’s gaze flickered up.

I didn’t see the warning in his eyes. Or maybe I chose not to.

I was done with wasting time.

“Now,” I insisted, a desperate edge to my voice.

Jonathon nodded. The tiniest shake of his head that I felt more than saw.

“No.” Morgan leapt forward, and for the first time ever, I saw real emotion in his eyes. Fear.

Then Mr. Jones was there, his face creased with disapproval.

I have no idea how I got through it as we sat in the office, Mr. Jones raging at us. Every word pounded at me and further reinforced my shame.

My hands were clenched together on my lap as I stared at the floor.

Jonathon covered my hands with one of his, and despite my anger and my confusion, I opened my hand to him. He was the only thing anchoring me at that moment.

His fingers curled through mine, warm and steady. He squeezed tightly, giving me strength.

It had been a long time since I had felt the warm touch of another human being.

When my mother died my father changed. He became harder. But he still showed me affection.

That stopped when I was fifteen, when a man turned an innocent hug into something it wasn’t.

We were walking along the boardwalk by the ocean. It was cold and windy, and I remember that we were laughing.

The wind picked up and I shivered, wrapping my arms around my body to warm myself.

My father put one arm over my shoulder as we walked, tucking me tightly into his side.

I had a big grin on my face. My father was everything to me, and I felt warm and safe against him.

The man was sitting on a park bench. He was wild and scruffy looking.

He glared at my father as we got closer, and my father started to pull away.

This only made me hang onto him tighter.

The man mumbled something under his breath as we walked past.

I didn’t hear what he said, but my father did.

His body suddenly tensed, and he stopped walking. He let go of me and faced the man.

“What did you say?” my father growled.

The man got to his feet, and glanced at me before he looked my father in the eye. His face was creased with disgust. “You heard me.”

My father punched him in the nose.

The man took a step back, blinking rapidly. There was blood streaming out of his nostrils and down his lip, catching in his beard.

He swiped his nose with his shirtsleeve, his beady eyes glaring at my father as he sized him up.

There was no way he would come out on the right side of a fight with my father.

My father was breathing heavily, and there was a dangerous gleam in his eye.

I stepped forward and touched his arm. “Dad?”

“He’s your
father
?” The man’s eyes widened with surprise as he looked at me, taking a step back. “I thought...”

“Of course he is,” I scowled, my face burning when I realized what the man had thought.

“Get out of here,” my father growled, and the man scurried away, still looking at us over his shoulder.

My father had always looked young for his age – young enough that Bianca had a fierce crush on him. At least, she did until not long after the incident with the man on the bench, when my father started letting his beard grow a little wild, instead of keeping it neatly trimmed close to his face. Not long after that he started getting his first gray hairs.

But he never hugged me again. Not at home, and especially not in public.

I felt Jonathon squeeze my hand and I looked up.

Mr. Jones faltered.

They were all looking at Jonathon’s hand wrapped around mine.

Jonathon squeezed even tighter, avoiding their hard faces.

Mr. Jones’s brow furrowed, and he flicked a quick glance at the others as he continued with a little less steam.

I took strength from Jonathon, and the heat that passed through me, going straight to my centre. I couldn’t help myself. It helped me stay calm.

I was still gripping his hand tightly, my knuckles white, when we left the office a few minutes later.

We walked ahead of the others, the weight of their eyes on our backs.

“How could you know?” I kept my voice low.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

He let go of my hand and I suddenly felt empty. I could still feel the echo of his fingers squeezing mine.

Jonathon grabbed me, and suddenly we were rushing ahead, impossibly fast. My feet barely touched the ground as the world was reduced to a streaky blur as it whipped past.

Within seconds we were on the other side of the school, hidden behind a tall hedge.

He turned me to face him as I tried to get my bearings.

Jonathon continued speaking as though nothing had happened.

 
“What does it matter?” he said urgently, searching my shocked face. “It’s the same thing at the end of the day.”

“It matters to me,” I said hotly, my anger overriding my confusion.

“I can’t. And I won’t. There’s too much at stake.”

“What are you talking about?” I said, and suddenly they were just there. They came from nowhere.

They swarmed around us, until they were standing behind us. Without a word, they turned as one, facing us, but staring straight ahead.

As though responding to an unspoken command, Jonathon straightened. He threw me a quick, warning look as he turned so that his back was to them.

A shudder swept through me. It was so damn creepy. Their silence was chilling.

Jonathon started walking, and I was forced forward as they started to walk, herding us toward the path that led to the school buildings.

“What’s with you and them, anyway?” I muttered, wondering how they could possibly move so fast. “Don’t you have a mind of your own?”

He didn’t answer. He stared at the path, and I could hear their footsteps behind us, keeping time to his.

When I realized I was part of this creepy beat, I deliberately mistimed my steps.

I had no idea what the deal with them was, but I didn’t owe them anything.

I stopped, rounding on them. “What – are you his keepers or something? What is it with you?”

They just stared at me.

I wanted to smash them in the face. Make them feel something. Anything. But I knew it was useless. I’d seen how fast they could move.

Instead, I turned to Jonathon, leaning in so close I felt his ear feather against my mouth, and the warmth of my own breath on my lips. “Meet me at the park. At twilight.”

Morgan grabbed Jonathon’s arm, and yanked him away.

“Fine. You win,” I spat at Morgan.

Madison smirked as I pushed past Jonathon.

I stormed down the path, glad they couldn’t see the smile on my face.

What they didn’t know was that before I let go, Jonathon squeezed my hand, and I took that to mean yes.