Authors: Linda Palmer
Tags: #Paranormal Romance, #Psychic Ability, #Stalker, #veteran, #Young Adult
"And you shall the next time you come home, whether Leslie
likes it or not. Meanwhile, I'll deposit the money you need into your
checking account." He sighed. "It's hard for me to admit you're old
enough to handle your own affairs."
"Old enough, yeah, but am I smart enough? That would be a
no. The stock market makes no sense to me. So you just keep doing
what you're doing, okay? At least for now."
"Of course. If that's what you want." He sounded
pleased.
I ended the call a few seconds later and turned to find
Zander leaning on the door jamb, the oddest look on his face.
"How long have you been standing there?" I asked.
"Long enough to know Jason might have a motive for
kidnapping you, after all."
Trust my body guard to think of that. My soaring spirits
immediately took a sharp nosedive.
* * * *
After a dinner of some dang good chili and a discussion of
my financial status, we watched an old movie neither of us had seen
before--
Guarding Tess
. I quickly fell for Nicolas Cage, who
played a frustrated secret service agent guarding an ex-President's
rather crusty widow. Toward the end of the movie, she was
kidnapped, and though horrified, I couldn't drag my eyes away.
"Do I need to turn this off?" Zander asked.
Only then did I realize how tense I was. I deliberately
relaxed. "No. I need to see the happy ending."
Just as the credits rolled, we heard a car pull into the drive.
Zander jumped up and peered between the slats of the mini-blinds.
"It's a friend of mine."
"Crap! Do I look okay?" I finger combed my hair and pulled
down the oversized tee I wore over black leggings.
"You look amazing."
That startled me speechless.
Zander opened the door. A man, woman, and two little girls
stood there. After a quick glance at me, he whispered something to
the adults that I couldn't hear before motioning for them to come
inside. The girls, who looked to be around four and six, clung shyly to
their daddy's leg, making him hobble his way to the couch. Zander
did the introduction thing: Dom Perez and his wife Ella, plus Mandy
and Holly. The four of them sat on the couch, which was so small that
each parent held a kid. I motioned for Zander to take the recliner and
sat on the arm of it without even thinking to ask if I'd be getting in
his space.
Ella's dimples popped into view, though she didn't actually
smile, and she broke a silence that had quickly become weighted.
"This is so much better than that stinky trailer, Zander."
"Isn't it?"
Another weird silence. I was the one to break it this time.
"Would you guys like something to drink? Or I have ice cream.
Mandy? Holly? Do you like ice cream? I have sprinkles."
Both girls quickly nodded.
"Extra sprinkles on mine." Dom's words made his precious
daughters giggle.
"Ella? Zander?"
"No thanks."
"None for me."
I motioned for the girls to follow me into the kitchen. To my
surprise, Ella came, too. I was struck by her Nordic beauty--pale
blond hair that hadn't been created in a salon, ice blue eyes, long
sexy legs. Her daughters had gotten their Hispanic father's skin tone
and dark eyes, but their mother's hair. I knew they'd be
heartbreakers one day.
As I scooped vanilla into bowls, Ella checked out the kitchen.
"I'm so glad Zander is here. We really hated that he was so far from
family. How'd you two meet?"
"He saved me from some muggers on Halloween." I told her
the tale, careful to keep it G-rated because of the girls.
"I'll bet you were terrified."
"I was, yeah. But not anymore. I'm so thankful Zander
agreed to be my housemate-slash-protector."
Ella surprised me with a hard hug. "Sorry we busted in on
you two like this. But when Dom told me that Zander had moved in
with a girl, I just had to meet you. We're very protective of him, and
not just because he saved Dom's life."
"He saved Dom's life?" I handed the girls their treats.
"Because of Zander's quick thinking, Dom survived a deadly
blast." She glanced pointedly at her daughters. "I'll tell you about it
sometime since I know he won't." She softly sighed. "Dom says
Zander is the poster boy for needless guilt, ranging from regret for
defying his parents to shame for surviving a blast that killed a soldier
with a wife and kids." She filled in the blanks between those two
things.
I couldn't believe my ears. "That's completely illogical."
"Yeah, well, try and convince Zander of that."
* * * *
Later that night, tucked in my queen-sized bed, I gave Ella's
comments a lot of thought. Was there something I could do to
convince Zander he deserved to be happy? I knew so little of his
story.
Jason the zombie popped into my head next. Why had he
attacked me, of all people? There were definitely prettier girls at the
mall if rape was his goal. And if it wasn't, what was? Kidnapping me
for ransom just didn't make sense either, although I apparently had
some money.
Frustrated and a little spooked, I sat up and turned on my
bedside lamp. I got my literature book and began reading required
chapters. The house lay in silence. Outside the wind still blew. I
heard a noise. Muffled, but real, and coming from indoors. Setting
aside my book, I listened.
Was Zander talking to someone? If so, he sounded pissed.
Crawling out of bed, I ran lightly down the hall to listen at his closed
door. I heard mumbling, but couldn't make out words for several
seconds.
Suddenly, he came through loud and clear. "You're a
goddamn liar!" He sucked in a sharp breath. "How'd you get in here?
Shit! Marty, Dom, the kid!
Joey, down!
"
I threw open the door. Although the room lay in darkness, I
could still make out Zander restlessly sleeping, his face to the
opposite wall. I ran to the bed and touched his shoulder. He flipped
onto his back and caught my wrist, his fingers an excruciating
vice.
"Ow! Zander, it's me. It's Riley." I tried to loosen his
grip.
It took him several seconds to come back from wherever. He
let me go and abruptly sat up, chest heaving. A flash of lightning
revealed a sheen of sweat on his face and neck. I sat on the edge of
the mattress. "You were interrogating someone, I think."
"Farzad Sadati."
I smiled. "You and your sheiks. Me and my zombies. Aren't
we a pair?"
Zander actually smiled back, but it was fleeting. He peered at
his watch.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Zero-three hundred."
"Is there room in this bed for me?" It was full-sized, but he
was taking his half in the middle.
"Why? Is something wrong with yours?"
"No, I hate being alone." He hesitated just long enough for
me to wish I'd kept my mouth shut. "Forget it. I don't know what I
was thinking." I stood.
He grabbed my wrist again, but gently this time. "There's
something I need to show you first."
"O-kaaaay." I reached for the bedside lamp.
"No. Leave it off."
I sat back and waited.
I stared at her through the dark, battling with myself until I
gave in to the inevitable. With a sigh, I threw back the covers. The
next flash of lightning revealed what I'd been hiding from her--a left
leg that had been severed a couple of inches below the knee.
She gasped and pressed her hand to her heart. Tears sprang
to her eyes. Pity. Exactly what I'd expected and the very reason I'd
been keeping my secret. "Still want to share my bed?"
Her gaze clashed with mine. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I know that Kyle's missing leg grossed you out."
Her jaw dropped as if I'd surprised her. "I can't believe you
said that."
"It's true. That look on your face when you saw it...? We
could both tell you were totally freaked."
For several moments she just sat there. Afraid to trust my
voice, I didn't speak either.
Riley slowly inhaled as if storing up. "How could you think
for even a second that this injury would make any difference to me?
Do I seem that superficial?"
"It's not that. I just--"
She reached over my navy boxer briefs so that her hand
hovered just above my thigh. "May I?"
I nodded warily. She ran her fingers over what was left of
my leg, gently tracing the scars there. I sucked in a sharp breath.
"Am I hurting you?"
I laughed. If she only knew.
"How'd it happen?"
"Landmine."
"Is this the only injury?"
I pulled up my T-shirt. With the aid of the lightning, which
was pretty constant by then, she could plainly see the scars on my
torso. I turned, showing her similar scars on my back. "I lost a kidney
and some of my gut. My left hip has been replaced. It's a miracle I
didn't lose this entire leg."
"No wonder you're in rehab. Geez, Zander." She glanced
around and spotted my prosthesis, propped in a corner of the room.
"Is that comfortable to wear?"
"Not so much, but I'm assured it'll get better."
"What's it made of?"
"Titanium mostly. Some plastic. I have a gel sleeve that
protects my skin and helps with the suction that keeps it on."
"Titanium. Wow." She laughed, but not with humor, I
thought. "It's time to talk, and there'll never be a more perfect lead
in. It wasn't Kyle's leg that upset me, Zander. It was your book."
I drew a blank. "What book?"
"
Titanium."
Riley crawled over me and sat campfire
style by my injured leg, her hand still on my thigh.
"You hate comics?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Do you know anything about
Titanium's creator?"
I snorted. "Who doesn't? Steve McConnell is an American
ico--" I stopped, distracted by the glimmer of a thought that took
form and quickly snowballed to an astonishing conclusion.
"McConnell."
"Yes."
"Mc-Con-nell."
"Yes."
"Holy freakin' shit."
"Zander Bennett, meet dear old dad."
"Steve McConnell, the greatest graphic novelist and
illustrator of all time, is the deadbeat dad who deserted you?"
She told me the whole sad tale--distracted father, sick mom,
ill-timed affair, untimely death. Plus there was the money thing. Lots
of it, apparently, safely invested in secret by a well-meaning aunt and
uncle.
I could barely speak. "I know you're telling me the truth, but
I still can't grasp it. McConnell seemed so rational when the press
was grilling him about casting Cory Walls to play Erick
Deckard."
"Who?"
"You mean you don't know the story?" I asked.
Riley shook her head.
"Okay. I'll try to keep it short. Eric Deckard aka Titanium is a
sensitive loner, misunderstood, disliked, and even feared by his
classmates. He has clear psychological issues that his parents
steadfastly deny. His father, a well-known plastic surgeon, and his
socialite mom dote on their other two children, who are well-
adjusted, outgoing overachievers. Eric despises what his dad does. In
his eyes, it's all very superficial, vain, and a waste of money that
could be used for good. He especially hates it when his mother has
work done on her face or body. Er, too much detail?"
She shook her head. "Uh-uh. Go on."
"Okay. Eric runs away a couple of times, which is
embarrassing for his parents. They tell him they will pay him to stay
in school until graduation, when he can do whatever he wants while
they tell everyone he's away at college. He can live in the apartment
over the garage until that time. Eric agrees. He wants to help some
friends who are living on the street.
"One night when the parents are away, the family mansion
has a gas leak that causes an explosion. Eric rescues his siblings, but
is critically burned. While he's drugged, he relives being molested by
an uncle. His parents overhear him and remember his telling them
this when he was little. They refused to believe it at the time since
that was something that didn't happen in nice families." I paused,
giving her a chance to end the narrative.
"Don't stop now."
"Realizing the experience could be at the root of all Eric's
mental issues, they still keep the secret. Eric slips into a coma. A
nurse aide overhears them trying to decide whether to pull the plug
or not since Eric's death would instantly eliminate all the problems.
The nurse rescues Eric and takes him to her brother, a physician who
is part of a top secret military project. He saves Eric by mutating his
skin into metal, via Titanium and alloy injections that make him
virtually indestructible.
"Eric gets the money he's hidden and sets up a headquarters
in an abandoned house. He hacks into the lives of politicians,
gangsters, corrupt CEOs, anyone who preys, sometimes diverting
cash from their secret accounts, sometimes going after them in
person. Using the money, he helps the underdog, the homeless, the
runaways, the hookers--anyone at the bottom of society being
abused by someone at the top of it."
Riley sat in silence for a moment, clearly letting everything
sink in. "I'm so amazed."
"And you can see why your dad's followers are almost cult-
like in their devotion to the mythology?"
"Flawed hero who helps the lowly masses. Yeah. I totally get
it. The Robin Hood of the twenty-first century. What's not to
love?"
"I saw your dad in person once. He was great with the fans."
I shook my head in amazement that the guy could come off as a
genius yet be a total jerk. "Man does he ever have the world fooled."
Experiencing a sudden burst of insight, I slapped my palm to my
head. "Shit! That email was from him."
"What email?"
"The one I couldn't log you out of."
"You read my emails?"
I winced. "Just the one. Have you answered him?" I knew she
had, of course.
"I told him I'd think about it."