Touching Eternity (Touch Series 1.5) (15 page)

I’m sorry! Forgive me! Don’t hate me!
All the things he wanted to say, longed to say, but the words remained locked behind his teeth.

“Hold still.” Garrison returned, gestured for Isaiah to move away.

It took some effort, but he relinquished his grip on Amalie and shuffled back several steps.

Garrison went straight to work cleaning the area, dabbing carefully at the gash. Amalie kept her eyes trained across the room. She didn’t so much as blink until Derek approached, a strip of twisted fabric in hand. He knelt in front of her, brought the rope to her lips.

“It will help,” he murmured quietly.

Isaiah gritted his teeth. Something about the way the guy was gazing intently into Amalie’s eyes made him want to march over and punch him.

Amalie opened her mouth. Derek slipped the bit of fabric between her teeth and held it until she clamped down. And maybe it was just a figment of Isaiah’s annoyed imagination, but he could have sworn the guy actually stroked her cheek before stepping back.

Isaiah felt useless standing back and watching as Garrison patched Amalie up. Derek wasn’t any use either, but he’d given Amalie the gag, which somehow counted for something significant. Isaiah decided to ignore it. It was irrational to be angry at something so trivial when there was something even bigger to be concerned about, like Amalie being shot. So what if the guy had given her a piece of cloth? And so what if she hadn’t jerked away or rebuffed his attention, Derek hadn’t intentionally broken her heart.

But it still burned him.

“Go clean yourself.” Garrison set the hooked needle aside, sat back on his hunches. “Don’t get the bandage wet!”

Amalie said nothing. She rose shakily to her feet, her face as white as snow. Isaiah leapt forward when she swayed, and grabbed her non-injured elbow. She jerked away as if he were something repulsive. It nearly destroyed him, but he made no move to touch her again. He watched with his heart in pieces as she staggered her way to the bathroom and shut the door.

“Derek.” Garrison stood, wiping his bloodstained hands on a clean rag.

Derek took a step forward, hands at his back. “Yes, sir?”

Garrison turned to him. “I’m making changes. You are assigned to Amalie protection. You will stay with her, go with her when she leaves her room. She is not permitted off the grounds, but you are in charge of watching over her. Do you think you can manage?”

If Derek was surprised by the new assignment, he was much better at masking it than Isaiah.

“Him? I’m the one who asked you—”

Smoothly, Garrison turned to him. “And I considered it.” He dropped the stained rag on top of the towel at their feet. “But you would be an unwise choice.”

Isaiah couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He’s a better choice? He doesn’t know her!”

“On the contrary.” Garrison knelt down and began gathering his tools. “Derek has been in charge of Amalie’s corridor for—how long has it been, Derek?”

“Seven months, sir,” the other man retorted evenly, seemingly unfazed by the argument.

“Exactly, and Amalie seems the most comfortable with Derek.”

“But I grew up with her!” Isaiah protested, feeling his blood rage hot and cold inside him.

Items stored neatly back inside his medical kit, Garrison rose, case at his side. “Be that as it may, I can’t have a repeat of what happened every time you would leave. Amalie would become depressed, moody and uncooperative. Derek has proven that—”

“I was going to school!” Isaiah’s voice rang through the room. “I didn’t ask to be sent away so far! You chose that. I would have stayed here, in BC. I would have come home every evening when I was finished. You sent me all the way to Quebec!”

“Because it was good for you!” Garrison retorted, sharpness carving his tone. “Everything I did was for your own good.”

“Then why are you punishing me?”

Garrison’s face changed. There was calculation behind his eyes, but otherwise, his expression remained blank.

“You think I’m punishing you?”

Isaiah realized his mistake. He realized he’d given away too much. He willed himself to calm down, to think. Every move from here on, had to be made with careful consideration, like a game of chess. Anything he said could be used against him.

“I just feel like Amalie would feel more comfortable with someone she grew up with. Someone she…” he faltered, choking on the lie.

“Yes?” Garrison prompted, tipping his head back.

Isaiah inhaled deeply. “Someone she trusts.”

Garrison shrugged, gestured a hand towards Derek. “She trusts Derek and she feels comfortable with him, and he has no intentions of leaving. Do you, Derek?”

“No, sir.” Derek was watching Isaiah, his gray eyes slabs of concrete, cold, impenetrable.

With a satisfied nod, Garrison turned back to Isaiah. “There, you see? Now, can you say the same?”

“School’s over,” Isaiah replied, not quite getting it.

“Yes, but what about your dreams of joining the army? That will once again take you away from home, away from Amalie. And she will be in pieces that I have to pick up when you’re gone. That is not what’s best for her.” He said, his eyes narrowing. “Unless you’ve changed your mind and have decided to stay and work for me?”

That’s when it hit him. He had two choices, stay with the girl he loved or join his dreams. There was no middle grounds, no room for compromise. If he joined the army, he could forget Amalie. If he stayed…

“I can see you’re not sure.” Garrison sighed, starting towards the door. “Derek, Amalie can skip supper tonight. But I expect her to start having her meals downstairs tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

Garrison left.

Isaiah raised his head, met the steel eyes of his competition and was surprised to find them dark with disapproval.

***

Isaiah glanced at the clock and then at the door, confusion twisting his brow. It was nearing midnight and she had yet to sneak into his room, which was such a rarity when he was actually home. It had become almost a tradition, something he’d come to expect, almost look forward to. There were nights he woke up smelling her, feeling her skinny arms around him, her hair suffocating him only to find himself alone in his bunk. But when he was home…where was she?

Lightning crashed outside, slashing the vast darkness with splinters spears of illumination. The wind howled, slamming into the terrace doors, rattling the windows. It was a miserable night, the kind of night made for horror movies. It was because of this that Isaiah threw back the covers and slipped out of his bed; Amalie hated storms.

He was surprised when his feet touched the floor almost immediately. That he didn’t have to slide out. He knew he had grown plenty since he’d arrived seven years ago. He was taller, his shoulders broader, his muscles more defined, but it still sent a thrill through him.

Quietly, he crept out of his room and padded down the hall. Amalie’s door, fifth from his, was shut firmly, but opened easily with just a twist of his hand around the knob.

The room inside was dark, quiet. The furniture threw twisted shadows against the walls. Each one reaching for the ceiling with long, jagged claws. He ignored those as he slipped inside and shut the door.

“
Ams?”

A low, soft sniffle propelled him to the bed and the lamp on the nightstand. With a flick of his fingers, he flooded the room with a soft, gold light. The shadows evaporated and he was left staring at the tangled mound of blankets and empty mattress.

“
Where are you?”

“
Here!” The whisper came from by his feet.

Isaiah knelt down, bent his head under the bed, baffled to find Amalie blinking back at him from the dark crevice, her blue eyes wide, wet and glossy with terror.

“
What are you doing?”

Outside, a crack of lightning broke across the sky. Amalie squeaked, clapping her hands over her ears.

Isaiah sighed, getting to his feet. He dragged one of the blankets down to the ground, followed by two pillows. It took some doing, but he got everything under the bed, including himself. He pulled the blankets around them, wrapping most of it around her trembling frame.

“
Why didn’t you come to my room?”

“
I’m fourteen!” she retorted, teeth chattering. “I’m not supposed to need someone to sleep with.”

He arched an eyebrow. “So you’ve decided to sleep under the bed instead?”

She ducked her head. “It’s not so loud under here.” She pulled the blanket up over her nose, covering most of her face.

“
Well, you should have just come to my room.”

Her eyes lifted to his. “You don’t want me there!”

Another boom shook the room, snapping her eyes closed tight. Isaiah shifted closer, draped an arm around her and tucked her into his chest where she instantly burrowed, squishing her face into his collar bone. He drew the blanket over her ear and pressed a hand over it, keeping the sound from filtering through.

“
You think I’m stupid,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “Yes.”

She sniffled, raising her face to glower at him. “That didn’t make sense!”

Without pausing to think, he swept back a strand of hair off her face. “You’re stupid to think I would ever turn you away.” He felt stupid saying it out loud, to her, to a girl, but he pushed on. “I’m always here for you, Ams.”

“
But you have school and you won’t always be here.”

“
Not always.” He pulled the blankets higher around her. “I’m going to finish and join the army, then I’ll always be here.”

“
No you won’t. The army will send you places, away from here.”

He sighed. “But I’ll always come back.”

She wet her lips. “Maybe you don’t have to join the army. You could just stay!”

He shook his head. “I want to join the army. I want to help people, kids like me who have no one to protect them. I promised a lot of my old friends that I would come back for them. That I would change things. I can’t break that promise. But I will never leave you. You’ll always come first.”

***

The door to the bathroom opened. Amalie slipped out, still dressed in her blood-soaked dress. Her gaze lifted and met his. His heart shattered.

He’d failed her. Again.

Amalie

The world was a soft pale glow outside her window when Amalie awoke. The sky was painted with tufts of white that spread over the horizon and dipped into the ocean. The waters were calm, lapping playfully over each other in chase. She couldn’t open the terrace doors, but she knew there would be a mist in the breeze. She would have given her right arm to feel it on her skin. But the very idea of stepping anywhere outside terrified her. Just the luxury of walking down the corridor to the dining room was a surreal haze, like a dream. She couldn’t imagine how she would react if she was taken anywhere else.

And still, her gaze lingered on every window they passed. Several times, she felt herself blinking back tears. The outside world was such a beautiful fantasy, like reading a book and knowing each place could be real, but also knowing you could never be there. It broke her heart and she wished someone would just close the blinds. The darkness was better than the longing. It was better than seeing the swirling vapors tailing them, scuttling up walls and summersaulting from the lights. Amalie didn’t look their way, never glanced back even when they called her. She kept her eyes forward even as her fingers danced anxiously against her thighs.

Her father was already seated at the table when she arrived, Derek a step behind her. Isaiah was there as well and her insides twisted. Anger choked her, stealing away the feeling of yearning she’d had moments ago. She clung to it, let it claim her.