Touching Eternity (Touch Series 1.5) (16 page)

“Amalie!” Her father folded his paper, set it aside.

Isaiah rose—no, leapt out of his seat. She ignored him, kept her eyes fixed firmly on the table. She continued to watch her plate as she sat in her seat across from him.

“How did you sleep?” her father asked, but he didn’t really care she knew. He only asked because it helped him determine if she needed more medication. It had nothing to do with concern.

“Fine.”

“How is your arm?”

Unconsciously, she touched the bandaged area. It stung, her arm throbbed, her shoulder ached. “Fine.”

“It’s tragic what happened.” Her father placed his napkin over his lap.

Tragic? Your only daughter got shot. I could have died!
And it was only just tragic. No anger. No concern. Simple matter of fact…tragic. She was tragic. Her birth was tragic. No. Her birth was a travesty. It was a catastrophe. She should have just died. Her mother had the right idea. She had escaped.

“Amalie?”

She blinked. Focused. “Yes?”

“I said,” her father repeated, watching her now, “that you needn’t worry about that happening again. Those two have been dealt with. Derek here will keep a much better eye on you. Won’t you, Derek?”

“Yes, sir,” Derek said from somewhere behind her.

At least it’s not Isaiah,
she thought, remembering the argument she’d overheard the day before in her room.

She had stood by the door, pressed into the cool surface as the two fought over who was better fit to care for her. She couldn’t bring herself to go near the water, memories of drowning still much too close to the surface, oh, but she had heard everything. It was the only time in her life she had been on her father’s side. She couldn’t have bared it if Isaiah had been chosen. She couldn’t even understand why he’d been so adamant to guard her. It wasn’t as if he cared. He didn’t care! He didn’t care! He was a sadist, a cruel, twisted human being never satisfied with just torturing a person once. He was a liar. He wanted her to suffer. He proved that yesterday.

“Amalie?”

She shook herself mentally, reminding herself she needed her wits, needed to focus, needed to pretend she was fine, normal. She forced herself to meet her father’s gaze, forced herself to smile.

“Sorry.”

Maybe it was the eye contact. Maybe it was the smile. But her father looked momentarily surprised. Then he looked pleased.

“Not at all!” He spooned eggs into Amalie’s paper plate. “What are your plans for today?”

Her plans? When did she ever have plans?

“I…”

“Ms. Garrison expressed wishes to go outside,” Derek’s voice maneuvered smoothly to intercept her stuttering.

Amalie expected her father to protest, to make some kind of excuse and lock her back in her room. Instead, he nodded slowly, thoughtfully, like the idea was interesting.

“Be sure you take a jacket. It’s not all that warm out.”

Outside. She was going outside. Out in the real air. She couldn’t even think straight. When was the last time she’d been outside, really outside and not by an open window, guarded? When was the last time she felt the wind in her hair or the sea breeze caressing her face?
Oh God, don’t panic! Don’t show how much this means to you! Calm. Stay calm. Eat. Go through the motions. Not too fast. Not too slow. One bite at a time. Outside.
She was going outside. She was going outside!
Outside! Breathe!

Under the table, something nudged her foot. She came tumbling out of her euphoria. She hadn’t realized she’d been staring at him until she blinked and Isaiah’s face came into focus.

For that split second, she forgot he’d betrayed her, that he’d hurt her. For that second, it was any other year and he was home from school. For that second, there was a whole day of adventure awaiting them. She smiled at him without thinking. She looked into his beautiful blue eyes and her heart stuttered. It too forgot that he was responsible for the many, many pieces it was in. He returned her smile, hesitant at first, but filled with so much hope, so much warmth that it was like a slap. It sent her crashing back to reality, to the bitterness he’d left behind inside her like a dirty handprint.

The smile died. She turned her head away, hating herself for the moment of weakness.

She finished breakfast and waited to be excused. She sat as patiently as humanly possible as every second of her precious outside time trickled away.

Hurry!
She mentally willed her father.
Hurry!

That’s when she saw them, when her attention wasn’t claimed by food. The vapors. The shifting shadows snaking over the walls. She closed her eyes, prayed to whatever holy being was listening not to do this, not now. Not when she was so close to tasting a second of freedom.

But the vapors had other ideas.

They twisted and coiled around the chandelier, oozed down onto the table. They wove around the plates, bowls and jugs. Amalie squeezed her eyes shut. In her lap, her fingers rapped erratically on her knee. Her heel rocked, fast…faster…faster.

“
Amalie…”

No! You’re not real! You’re not real!

“Amalie?”

She jumped at the sound of her father’s voice. Her eyes flew open, her heart in her throat. He was watching her, studying her. His eyes were narrowed, cold.
Oh no! Did he see? Did he know?

“Sir?” Isaiah cut into whatever her father was about to say. “What did you mean three holidays a month? Do all the guards at the lab get that or just the ones that have been there the longest?”

Her father’s attention was captured. He turned away from Amalie and focused on Isaiah. Amalie exhaled, a nervous wreck.
Too close.

“Miss?” Derek murmured quietly from behind her. “If you are finished, perhaps we should get your jacket?”

Amalie glanced at her father, not sure she was allowed to leave.

Distracted, Garrison waved her to go on.

Amalie didn’t wait to be told twice. She shot out of her seat and practically ran for the door. She heard Derek behind her, but she didn’t stop. She veered away from the stairway, her heart roaring loud in her ears as if every step was forbidden and she could still be stopped. Her feet ran, pumping hard. Portraits and priceless antiques zipped past in a blur. The backdoor loomed, encircled by a halo of light that glowed bright the closer she drew. So close. Her head swam. Dizzying exhilaration stole her breath. She was encased by tremors that made her fingers numb as she reached for the doorknob, twisted and then yanked.

The salty air slapped her in the face like an icy hand. It reached into her chest and squeezed her lungs. Mist dampened her clothes, tore at her hair. She greedily sucked it all in, needing it all inside her before she was dragged back to her cell. Her flats slipped as she broke away from the threshold and threw herself into the elements. Warm hands were there, grabbing her, holding her up, keeping her steady.

Panic had her tearing away and whipping around to confront the person trying to take her back. Her desperation pushed a plea to her lips.

Derek peered down at her. “Careful, miss,” he murmured quietly.

Not there to stop her, she realized. He wasn’t going to stop her. He wasn’t going to take her back inside. An avalanche of emotions took her under. Tears mingled with the drops of rain plastering strands of hair to her face, her clothes to her frail frame. She stared at the stranger that worked for her father and drowned in bafflement.

“Why?” she asked, choked. “Why did you do it?”

His gaze remained unwavering when he answered, “I’m not sure what you mean, miss.”

He knew. She knew he knew. He knew exactly what he’d done. He’d given her a gift she could never repay.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He merely shrugged out of his jacket and swung it around her shoulders. His warmth seeped into her and she realized she was shivering.

“You’ll get sick,” she said.

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Not sure what else to say, not wanting to say anything, Amalie turned away. She moved quickly, but carefully over the stone paths weaving through the gardens. There was no real direction to her escape, but it took her further and further away from the house, away from the brick walls and the watchful eyes of her father. She didn’t need to look behind her to know Derek was right behind her, keeping a far enough distance to give her privacy, but close enough to intervene if something should happen. He didn’t try making conversation, which she was thankful for.

She stopped when she realized where she was going, where her feet were taking her. She froze as every droplet of rain seeped through her skin, into her bloodstream. Her limbs trembled.

***

“
We’re not supposed to be out here.” But she let him lead her through the gardens, keeping low and out of the reaches of the light spilling from every window and lamp in sight.

Laughter and music poured through the open terrace doors, pooling into the night. Amalie tried not to stare at the golden halo that seemed to surround the house. She had never been allowed to attend one of her father’s parties, but she had always longed to wear a pretty dress, get her hair done and dance with a handsome man. But she couldn’t be trusted to control herself around normal people and she was almost certain half the people laughing and drinking inside didn’t even know she existed.

“
Aren’t you supposed to be at the party?” She pried her eyes away from the fun and merriment to look over at the boy clutching her hand.

He was the picture of perfection in a black suit, his dark hair swept back from his angelic face. He was gorgeous. She had seen more than one girl notice that evening. No one had seen her on the landing, crouched just out of sight. But she had watched as one beautiful girl after another arrived, draped in miles of colorful silk, their faces too flawless to be real. She had watched as they batted their lashes at Isaiah, smiling and offering him their gloved hands in greeting. He had accepted each one with a charming smile and led them into the ballroom. The perfect host. She would never admit it out loud, but it had crushed her a little more each time to see him with someone else in his arms, arms that belonged to her.

She had slunk back to her room like a coward instead of marching below and ripping each of those pretty peacocks to pieces.

“
I
was
at the party,” he said over his shoulder. “I danced. I smiled. I made nice with all the people your father pushed under my nose. Now I want a dance with my girl.”

For an idiotic moment, she forgot to hold the hem of her nightgown aloft and her foot caught. She stumbled and was caught in his arms.

“
Your girl?” The question came out in an excited whisper that brought a bright smile to his face.

His eyes glinted in the twinkling light a few yards away. “Will you be?”

It was all she could do to keep from catapulting herself into his arms. Her fingers closed in the soft material of his blazer. “But those other girls…they’re so pretty and…” Her smile faded. Her heart sank. “They’re normal, Isaiah.”

His fingers were warm through the fabric of her dress as he drew her deep into his arms. “You’re normal, Ams. And they can be as pretty as they want. They can never make my heart stop the way you do.”

Hope, bright and sparkly, leapt into her chest, pushed its way up to burst from her lips in a squeal of delirious joy. She stopped it. “But—”

His finger ghosted her lips. “No buts. Ever. There is no one that can make me look into their eyes and see the rest of my life. Only you.” He smiled when she could only stare at him through a veil of tears. “Come on.”

She didn’t utter another word until they reached the gazebo. He led them inside and wasted no time twirling her under his arms, in a way that made her heard swim with giddy delight. Her nightgown flared around her ankles and she drowned the serenade of harps, flutes and violins with her laughter. Isaiah chuckled, sweeping her into his arms.