Stunned (The Lucidites Book 2) (36 page)

“Thanks,” I say, stabbing my broccoli with a force it doesn’t deserve.

“Specifically, I was wondering how you’re feeling about Chase?”

“I hate him still,” I say, acid in my voice.

“Good,” George says evenly.

What I don’t say is that the hate constantly morphs into unadulterated lust bordering on heart-aching love, one that if I don’t have I’ll die. I don’t tell anyone this. Since these emotions aren’t real I know I can battle them alone.

“How are you recovering?” George ask.

“Still sore, but mostly fine,” I say, staring at a mushroom I’ve over-abused with my fork.

“Amazing, the skill Mae has.”

Scanning the hall, I linger a second too long in Aiden’s direction. He’s in an animate conversation with a white coat. For all the attention he’s given me I could cease to exist and he wouldn’t notice. Instead of using all those cheesy lines Aiden should have been real with me, told me it was all just a fun game. He was probably afraid I’d blacken his other eye. The idea runs through my head constantly lately. Every time I see him in the main hall and he grazes past me like we’ve never met, I fantasize about sending a roundhouse kick to his head.

“I’m sorry, George, I’m totally inconsiderate.” I turn to him, lay a hand on his. “How are you feeling? How’s the knife wound?”

A tamed smile touches his lips. “I’m at around eighty-five percent.”

“Wow, that’s impressive, considering it was just over a week ago that you were stabbed.”

His hand grips my fingers, tugs them closer to him. “When we’re both better I say we celebrate. There’s a place I want to take you.”

How is George always here, never wavering? Always offering comfort I don’t deserve, company I’m unworthy of, and sympathetic looks which break my heart. He’s not stupid though. He watches me, sees the disappointment that flares across my face every time Aiden strolls by high-fiving Trent, asking Samara if she’s feeling better, and ignoring me completely. And he feels the ache that erupts afterwards. George is brilliant actually, because he knows by just being available, he’s giving me the one thing Aiden refuses.

“I’m not sure I’m recovering as quickly as you,” I say, my hand suddenly perspiring in his. “But I agree to a celebration once I’m up for it.”

George swivels, a cautious look in his eyes. “Roya,” he says, facing me, “I feel that someone you’ve been looking for is approaching.”

My eyes go wide. The chair rubs the carpet, catching its fibers as it slides back. Ambling through the crowd, now only a table away, is Joseph. All breath leaves my chest as disbelief invades my head. His ghostly white hands tremble as they seek to hold onto the plate between them. Hollow eyes flick up to mine, a look of complete apathy on his nearly transparent face. His skin reminds me of that of an elderly person’s, smooth, lacking its usual elasticity and color.

“Joseph,” I choke out.

He nods his chin at me before taking a seat.

“Where have you been?!” All eyes in the main hall flick to me.

“Around,” he says, his voice croaky.

“I’ve been looking for you. Worried,” I say quieter, leaning across the table.

“I told you I’d be busy.” Eyelids rimmed with spider web veins close. For an instant I think he’s fallen asleep at the table. He rocks forward, catching himself right before he smashes his face into his ham sandwich.

I want to run around the table to him, but there’s already too much attention on us. Trent takes the seat next to him, steadying Joseph’s shoulder with his hand. I sit.

“Dude,” Trent says, “you don’t look so hot. Maybe you should have Mae check you out.”

“I’m fine,” he says, his drawl more pronounced. “Just hungry and tired, that’s all.”

From the concaved appearance of his cheeks, he doesn’t look like he’s eaten in days. And I know for a fact that he hasn’t had one meal in the main hall since I was released from the infirmary.

Joseph brushes Trent off and then pins his hands on either side of his plate, like he’s trying to stabilize his equilibrium.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “What’s causing you to act like this?”

“What do you mean?” He reaches out for his sandwich but misses it by a couple of inches. A grimace falls over his face until his hand haphazardly bumps into his sandwich. Satisfied, he grips it, brings it up to his mouth like it weighs a ton, and takes a large chomp.

“Joseph, I haven’t seen you for a week. You…” I hesitate, embarrassed to say what I’m about to. My eyes find George’s and he offers a reassuring nod. “Whatever you’re doing looks like it’s robbing you of your senses and your life. Don’t you see that? You can hardly keep your head up.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Stark,” he says, straightening, menace in his eyes.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about? You look like a pitiful street beggar who’s experienced a particularly awful winter under the bridges. Tell me why you look like you’re on the verge of death.”

“I already told you I’m working on something. It’s draining, but I can handle it.”

“Tell me what it is,” I say in a hush, sensing curious eyes from other tables spying.

“No.” He lulls his head forward like it’s suddenly weighted. “Give me a bit longer. It’s wonderful and it will be worth the wait.”

“It doesn’t look like you have much longer,” I say through clenched teeth.

“You’re overreacting.” He pushes his food away.

“I’m not. Either tell me what you’re working on or stop it.”

“No.”

“Remember our deal before, Joseph?” I say threading my arms across my chest. “Before when you were working on this project I said if you didn’t tell me what it was then I was going to leave the Institute, prevent you from pulling on my energy. Remember that?”

He nods, a coldness in his eyes. A standoff in his gaze.

“Well, the deal still stands. Tell me what’s killing you slowly or I’m going to stop you by leaving the Institute, cutting off your extra energy supply.” It’s a split-moment decision, but I know as soon as it spills out of my mouth that it’s the right one. I can’t stay here allowing Joseph to pull on my energy for secretive reasons, ones that are turning him into a zombie. I’ll deal with Chase. I’ll keep Bob and Steve protected. And somehow by leaving Joseph, maybe I’ll save him.

Beside me I sense George stiffen. I stay locked on Joseph.

“Seriously, Stark?” Joseph says, an ounce of his casual manner surfacing. “You’re doing that one again?”

“I was planning on leaving before and would have if Trey hadn’t stuck me on a project,” I say.

“We both know you don’t want to leave,” he says shredding his bread into tiny bits like he’s going to use it to feed ducks.

“We both know that I don’t want to watch you kill yourself.”

Bloodshot eyes ram into mine. Red embarrassment flares in his cheeks. I’m willing to stay locked in an intense stare-off with him for as long as it takes, but then Aiden materializes over Joseph’s shoulder, breaking my attention. From the corner of my vision I spy him wave at me. My eyes rise to him and again he points in my direction and waves, looking impatient. “Yes, you, Mr. Anders. Join me over here, would you?”

Heat rushes to my head as I pin my eyes to the table. After a moment of deliberation, George stands and joins Aiden. The Head Scientist leans over, whispering something in George’s ear. Then George nods and turns to leave.

Aiden is halfway back to his seat when Joseph calls out loudly, still not taking his eyes off me. “Hey, Livingston!”

Aiden pauses, turns. “Yes,” he says in a much quieter voice.

“Get over here!” Joseph says, his face burning. As his twin I feel certain parts of him and right now his anger seeks to set me on fire. I take a drink of ice water.

“What can I do for you?” Aiden says, clapping Joseph on the back, not seeming to notice that a gesture like that could fracture my brother’s weakened frame. Heat rises in my head.

“You can tell my sister that she can’t move out of the Institute to some boondock town. Maybe she’ll listen to you.”

A smirk unfolds on Aiden’s face, but it stays facing Joseph. “You’re right, Joseph, she can’t.”

“See there!” Joseph says, pointing at me. “Now tell her that leaving here is stupid.”

The Head Scientist can’t look at me. Won’t. I led the mission that rescued him and I’m not even worth a casual glance. “I don’t have to and you don’t need to worry any further. Roya isn’t going anywhere.”

How dare he speak about me like I’m not even here? Treat me like I’m not sitting a few feet away?

“If that’s all I’ll take my leave,” Aiden says, standing tall, eyes still not finding mine.

“Yeah, you’re dismissed,” Joseph says, a satisfied grin on his face.

When Aiden and I parted in the infirmary, I was still unclear on our arrangement. Now I realize there wasn’t one and that I was being used. Maybe he was making up all those excuses about why we can’t be together. Maybe the real reason is he doesn’t want to. I don’t want to believe it, but my ego can only take this neglect for so long before it decides that he never really wanted me at all. Aiden loves games and unfortunately I think I just got played.

“Well, there you are, Stark. How do you like that?”

“You’ve lost your mind,” I say in an undertone, watching Aiden’s retreating back. “You think that because some stupid scientist says I can’t leave it makes it true? I can do whatever I want. Campaign all you like, but the fact still remains that I’m not staying here.” I stand up from the table, press my palms down on its surface. “While I’m off enjoying the country air, try not to kill yourself, would you?!”

Chapter Forty-Seven

W
hen the knock sounds at my door I answer it, hoping it’s Joseph. Hoping he’s changed his attitude.

“Don’t leave,” George says when the door slides back, a penalizing tone in his voice.

“Please, not right now, George,” I say, wringing my hands. “I don’t want to argue with you about this.”

“Then don’t,” he says, stepping into my room and sending the door closed behind him. “Just talk to me. Let me help you,” he pleads.

I know how that feels: to plead. I know how it feels to wish someone would give you a chance to help them. “You don’t understand, George,” I say, looking off. “Being here—”

“Hurts,” he finishes my sentence. “Watching him abuse himself plagues you. And you feel like leaving will erase the pain, since you can’t erase the problems.”

He does understand. Perfectly. Simultaneously I want to rush into his arms and also shield myself from his prying. Instead I wrap my arms across my chest.

A stricken expression marks his face. “Even after you leave here you’ll still worry. The torment won’t go away.”

“I know. I’m cursed to carry this emotion no matter where I go. But if I’m not here then Joseph can’t pull on my energy and maybe he’ll be forced to quit this secret project. Maybe—” The smile that flickers to his lips interrupts me. “What? What are you smiling about?”

“I love the way you think.”

“Think? What?” My brow knits with confusion.

“It’s exactly the same way your heart feels: selflessly. You would remove yourself from the Institute when you really don’t want to just to protect him.” He looks impressed, although the smile has faded.

“Well, now that you understand my flawless reasoning behind leaving maybe you’ll give me a break.”

His determined look feels to be anchored by a deep motivation. “Roya, how can I not fight you on this? How can I support this decision when it takes you away from me?”

Takes you away from me.
His heavy words stick in my core. I don’t belong to George, but do I want to?

“You may not know what you want, but I do,” he says, a secret desperation written on his face. My eyes clench shut, frustrated that I can’t have a normal conversation with him. One where he isn’t one emotional step ahead of me.

“I know what you want,” I say, opening my eyes to find him chewing on his lip. “You want me to stay and I appreciate—”

“No, Roya, let me be clear. I want you with me,” he says, a careful conviction in his words. “I want to fulfill the desires you’ve buried inside you, the ones for love you don’t feel you deserve. And I can’t do that if you leave.”

“Why?” I ask, my voice just above a hush. “Why are you so devoted to me?” What I don’t ask is why he’s still loyal to me after everything with Aiden.

George dips his chin, studies my face. “Roya, you bring me clarity. I’ve lived my life in a cloud of emotions, but when I’m with you the way I feel is so intense that
my
feelings take center stage. They become the rare priority.”

A knot settles in my throat, followed by a raw aching. He makes it sound like he needs me, like I’m the antidote to the disease he’s suffered from his entire life. How can I not give him that? Be his antidote?

Deranged by my confusion and constant heartache I impulsively spring forward. In one movement my fist knots in his shirt, pulling him into me. Our lips meet in a rush and his startled reaction only lasts for an instant and then he’s kissing me back. Lust joins my other tangled emotions rolling around inside my chest. Then in all my furious passion, I’m interrupted by an angry shame. It roars through my head like an incensed monster.

I firmly press my hand flat against his chest, shoving him a few inches. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Guilt shivers out of my voice. “I’m sorry,” I repeat. “Something just took over me.”

The light in his eyes dims. “Don’t be sorry,” he says.

“I don’t know how I feel or what I want right now, George. I really don’t want to hurt you.” I close my eyes, not able to bear seeing his disappointment. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to know what you want right now. And you have my permission to hurt me. Break my heart into a thousand pieces, just don’t be sorry you kissed me.”

He tilts my head up so I meet his brown eyes. “I know what I want though. You know what I want. Hell, the whole Institute knows. It isn’t a
secret
.” The insinuation hangs in the air like a cloud of dust.

His hand drops, but I stay locked on his eyes. Anger blazes across his face. “You deserve to be loved openly.”