Mindspeak Page 16

  “Lexi, can you hear me? We’re not in the car. We got out of the car. We’re fine.”

  I groaned and tried to move my other arm, but met resistance and more tenderness in my shoulder.

  My eyes fluttered, letting small amounts of light in. Another figure came into focus slowly. This time, he had a face. And no cigarette.

  “Jack?” His forehead was wrinkled with concern. Worry swam in his eyes.

  “Yeah. It’s me.” A lazy curve spread across his lips. He sat on the bed beside me.

  I studied his face. “You’re okay?” My voice was panicked. I lifted my head, not without pain, and looked around. The guest room at Jack’s house. No one else was there. No one smoking.

  He nodded. “Just a few scratches.” He followed my anxious gaze.

  Finding no one in the room with us, and with the smell of cigarette smoke gone, I relaxed back against the pillow. “How long have I been out?”

  He looked at his watch. “About twelve hours.”

  “Am I okay?” I wiggled my toes and fingers. Assessed my pain. My head throbbed.

  His face softened as he took my hand and smiled. “You’re going to be fine.”

  “Going to be?”

  “A few more scratches than me, but you’ll recover quickly. I’ll help.” He bowed his head and tapped his forehead with our linked hands.

  “What’s wrong, then?” Besides the fact that some scary guys had tried to send us to our graves way earlier than I planned.

  He lifted his head. “I’m so sorry, Lexi. I tried to protect you. I never should have taken you to that bar. I just thought—”

  “This was not your fault,” I said, willing myself to remain calm. Still, something else played in the back of my mind. “Something tells me I wouldn’t be lying here if it hadn’t been for your expert driving.” I tried to smile. It hurt.

  He nodded, swallowing hard.

  “Do we know who ran us off the road?” I asked.

  “No.” Jack sucked in a deep breath. “Dad’s investigators found traces of Rohypnol in your water. Fortunately, you hadn’t drunk much.”

  I gave my head a shake. “I don’t understand.

  “Also known as the date rape drug.”

  “Why would someone want to drug me with that?”

  “The drug isn’t only used for assault. It’s simply a strong sedative that can be hypnotic and cause a person temporary amnesia. What I don’t understand is why someone would spike your drink with such a drug if their intent was to kill you. Or me for that matter.”

  Suddenly, I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. A tear leaked down the side of my face and into my hair.

  Jack cupped my cheek and rubbed the tear with this thumb.

  “Why is someone trying to kill one of us, Jack?” Or both of us.

  “I’m not sure. It could have something to do with our fathers’ research, but I just don’t know.”

  “How did I get here?” I glanced down at the t-shirt and girly boxers I wore. Panic crept into my voice and my head. “And into these clothes?”

  Jack’s lips twitched. His fingers feathered along my arm. “I carried you to bed.”

  My eyes widened.

  “Anita changed you into more comfortable clothes.”

  My body relaxed, and Jack’s smile grew. Given the situation, Jack seeing too much of me should have been the least of my concerns, but…

  The touch of his fingers against my skin made my heart rate speed up, but not in a good way and I wasn’t sure why. I was forgetting something. Something that happened prior to landing upside down in Jack’s car. “My head really hurts.”

  His fingers drifted up my arm and tiptoed along my brow line. A cold sensation spread along my face and forehead, dissipating the pain with each press of his finger.

  I breathed in and out while I searched his face. I wanted to ask him how he took my pain away, but the words got stuck in my throat. Something else teetered at the edge of my brain as his eyes examined each millimeter of my hairline.

  I thought about the previous night—the romantic dinner, the sound of his voice over the microphone on stage, and the kissing. With each pleasant memory, my breathing became shallower. I squirmed under his gaze.

  The natural light in the room flickered as clouds passed in front of the sun on the other side of sheer curtains. As the room darkened, so did my memories.

  The girl with the lips. Rick. The bottle of water that made me feel drunk.

  Jack led me from the bar. Carried me. I could still remember the stench of the dumpsters. He set me gently in the passenger seat of his car.

  Seth Whitmeyer. He was there. Outside. Behind the bar.

  Jack’s eyes narrowed.

  I pushed his hand away and sat up. “Seth Whitmeyer was there.” I rubbed my temple with my fingers. The pain was gone. “You knew him.”

  Jack did not look surprised by my realization. “Yeah, not exactly how I wanted our date to go,” he said.

  The flip-flopping emotions battling inside my head made me dizzy. I slid out of the bed, whipped around to face Jack, and stumbled.

  “Whoa.” He stood and circled around the bed to where I was standing. “Take it easy.”

  His concern melted the ice wall I was erecting, yet I wanted to hit him. “Where are my clothes?” I looked around the room.

  “Anita put them in the closet.” Jack held out a hand in front of me. “Stay. I’ll get them.” He crossed to the closet and returned with the bag Danielle had packed for me. “Why don’t you lie back down? We have nowhere to be today.” His voice was calm, but his face screamed concern.

  “I don’t want to lie back down.” My words spilled out in a panic. I was definitely losing it. “Those people drugged me last night.” Memories were pouring into my head like a torrential rain. “Someone tried to kill us, Jack. Seth Whitmeyer was there. Did he try to kill us?” I raised my hands and shoved him.

  He caught both of my wrists and pulled me towards him as he stumbled backwards from my push. His eyes closed briefly. “No. Seth doesn’t want us dead.”

  “But you do know him.”

  He nodded.

  “What is this? Who wants me dead?” Was it the same people who killed Dad? “What does Seth want from me?” Panic attack in full swing, I dug frantically through the bag until I pulled out a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. “You’ve been after the journals all along. You and…” I gazed up at him, my breathing labored. “Seth? You’re working with him?”

  “What? No. Well… Yes. But there’s so much more to it than that.” Jack guarded his words closely.

  Did Jack want my dad’s journals so badly he was willing to let someone hurt me? Did he take me to that bar so that someone could drug me? Kidnap me? Kill me?

  Suddenly, as if reading my thoughts, he placed a hand over mine as I fidgeted with my clothes. “Stop this. No one is going to get close enough again to drug, kidnap or kill you. I promise. It wasn’t Seth who drugged you. You have to believe me. And I had nothing to do with what happened last night.” He dipped his head, forcing me to look at him. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  My eyes widened, horrified. Had he just read my mind? I hadn’t spoken those questions out loud. I clutched the clothes to my chest, trying to hide the fact that I was shaking all over. Dark realization set in.

  I think I’d known it all along. I tried to shake the cobwebs from my head.

  I stared hard into Jack’s eyes. How am I supposed to believe you? How can I trust you when you are hiding so much from me? Every bad thing that has happened, happened since I met you. Since the day you showed up at Wellington.

  He took a step toward me. Jack’s lips stretched into a tight line. His eyes locked onto mine—stormy blue to what had to be freaked-out green. “The secrets end today.”

  Then the unthinkable happened. I heard his voice inside my head. His lips didn’t move. No sound came from his mouth. I am not going to let anything bad happen to you. After today, I wi
ll hide nothing from you. The bad things that are happening were set in motion way before I showed up at Wellington.

  I stumbled backwards, dropping my clothes to the floor. My hand flew over my mouth. I didn’t dare avert my gaze from his panicked face. A mirror to mine, I was sure. You can hear me.

  I can. And you can hear me.

  “I’m going to throw up.” I darted to the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Moment of truth, Matthews.”

  The girl who stared back at me in the mirror looked nothing like me. Her hair hung in tousled strands. Blood smeared across her forehead. Heavy, dark circles under partially swollen eyelids.

  I reached a hand and lightly pressed on my shoulder. Pain erupted. Although the shoulder was only slightly swollen, red skin assured me that I was bruised. And if the pain was any indication…

  I spread my fingers wide, pressing my palms into the vanity, and leaned in closer to the mirror. Studied my reflection. Green eyes. Brown, stringy hair.

  Jack had read my thoughts. How long had he done this? Had he read all of my thoughts?

  I buried my face into my palms. “Dad! What did you do?” A sob escaped my mouth. I was a freak. And the guy I was falling for… had fallen for… could see straight into my mind and know my every secret thought. For a normal teenager, life didn’t get much worse.

  I lifted my head again. I was anything but normal. My dad was gone. My grandmother didn’t know me. I had no one.

  “You have Jack,” I whispered. I just had to trust. Could I put my faith into someone who was obviously hiding so much from me, but who had constantly saved me the past few weeks?

  What about the journals? Was he after those? At my expense?

  ~~~~

  The guest room was empty when I exited the bathroom. A note waited for me on the bed.

  I went horseback riding. Take the time you need, then come find me. Please. I promise I will explain everything I can. -Jack

  The DeWeese’s house was quiet. Too quiet. The sound of my rapid breathing and my deteriorating nerves followed me down the front staircase and through the house.

  I stepped outside on the back patio and walked toward the fence that lined an open field behind the house. It was a cloudy, fall day, the air crisp and cool as it whispered across my skin. I breathed in the scent of impending rain, confirmed by the dark clouds in the distance.

  Dressed in jeans and a baseball cap, Jack sat atop a large gray horse that galloped along the fence line. My hands shook. I stuffed them inside the pocket of my hoodie.

  Reaching the fence, I climbed up, swung my legs over and sat on the top plank while I watched Jack ride. He was beautiful, so in control on top of the large animal. Part of me wanted to retreat and not hear the truths I needed him to reveal, but that was just my fear of the unknown.

  Jack spotted me. He tugged on the reins and turned the horse toward me. My heart beat wildly. He trotted up next to me. His beautiful gray horse nodded in my direction. I ran my hand down his snout.

  He held out his hand and spoke in a soft, but confident voice, “Get on.”

  I shook my head.

  He grabbed my hand. “Come on. I won’t let you fall.”

  My stomach twisted. I stared into his deep blue eyes, the color of the approaching storm cloud.

  Here it was. Decision time. Trust Jack? Or flee?

  When he tugged again, I lifted one leg and slid into the saddle in front of him while trying not to aggravate my injured shoulder. His arms circled around me, holding the reins. His chest pressed into my back. His legs squeezed against mine, sending electric shocks through my body.

  He made a clicking sound with his mouth and pulled on the reins, steering the horse away from the fence. We trotted toward the trees that lined the back of the property.

  A cool breeze blew hair off my face. As we entered the wooded area, Jack instructed the horse to slow. The daylight dimmed by the shade of the large oaks. Shadows danced around the roots at the base of the trees. Leaves swirled in the autumn breeze. He rested his hands in front of me, and his biceps squeezed against my arms. I said nothing. I tried to think nothing, fearing he’d hear my thoughts.

  Jack leaned his head into the crook of my neck. I felt his warm breath against my skin. My body tensed, and then he whispered, “I meant what I said. I won’t let you fall.” I don’t think he meant it in the physical sense. He lifted a hand and pulled my hair away from my face. “And I won’t allow anyone to hurt you.” His voice sounded weird, hoarse.

  I closed my eyes, concentrating on the warmth of his body close to mine. “I think I know that.” I reopened my eyes and turned my head so that I could see him. The features of his face softened when our eyes met.

  He ran his thumb along my cheekbone. I leaned into his touch. I wanted to freeze this moment, to forget about the secrets kept from me my whole life. I wanted only to remember that last night, for a short time, I was a normal teenager out on a date. In this dream scenario, on top of this giant animal, I wanted to pretend that Jack was mine. That we were just out for a romantic ride through the woods.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said. He leaned closer, kissed my lips. “And I am yours.”

  My body tensed. His fingers tickled the skin around my face and lingered along my neck as his words confirmed that my mind wasn’t safe.

  “Have you always been able to hear my thoughts?” Because I haven’t always thought the nicest things.

  He smiled and nodded. “Most of them.”

  I cringed. “Do you hear other peoples’ thoughts? Other girls’?”

  Jack laughed. “No.”

  I faced forward while touching the dry skin beneath my nose. “My nose doesn’t bleed when I direct thoughts at you?” Maybe because they’re actually my private thoughts that come naturally.

  “Probably.”

  “Which is completely, one-hundred percent scary. I’m not sure I can control those thoughts.”

  “You don’t have to. You don’t need to be afraid of me, Lexi. But—”

  Tell that to the circus elephants in my stomach.

  He chuckled softly. “I will teach you control.”

  “Control?”

  “Your thoughts. I can teach you to keep your thoughts from me. To allow me to hear only the thoughts you want me to hear.”

  That’s a relief.

  “And your other… abilities. You’ll learn to control those as well.”

  “I don’t have other abilities.”

  “You just haven’t discovered them yet.”

  ~~~~

  A strong storm blew in that afternoon. Horizontal rain pelted the windows along the back of the house, including those in Dr. DeWeese’s study.

  Jack led me to the sofa and gestured for me to sit. No words had passed between us since we left the barn, but if I was able to read his face and he my thoughts, I knew one thing for sure—we were both scared.

  “Where are your parents?”

  “Traveling.” He continued over to his father’s desk where he sat and unlocked a desk drawer.

  “Traveling where?” Was he purposely being vague? What happened to no secrets?

  “Sicily.” A dark look passed over his face.

  “That’s where my father was living. They’re searching for the journals,” I said, somewhat betrayed.

  Thunder clapped and lightning flashed in dramatic bursts, lighting up the room. I flinched.

  Jack pulled out a black box from a bottom drawer and placed it in front of him. He opened it carefully, dug through the contents and pulled an item out before closing the box again.

  The lighting in the office was dim. He crossed the room and sat beside me.

  “This… is Sandra.” He handed me a photograph.

  Tearing my eyes from his, I looked down at the woman in the picture. I reached a shaky hand and traced the outline of the woman’s face, her smile, the curves of her body. Jack’s expression was as serious as I had ever seen it. �
�Sandra?”

  He nodded.

  Short and slender, she stood between Dad and Dr. DeWeese. The two men had an arm around her. She grabbed at her long brown hair blowing in a breeze. All three smiled. They were laughing. Sandra’s green eyes stared straight at the camera.

  I didn’t understand. “It’s me.” A voice in my head screamed, This is a picture of me. I look exactly like her. She looks like me.

  Jack winced as if I had actually yelled.

  Sandra stood at the same height as me, coming to just under Dad’s chin. Her eyebrows curved the same way mine did when she smiled. Her nose was slightly crooked. I traced the straight line of mine—the only visible difference. “I don’t believe it.” Jack remained a statue beside me. “What does this mean?” My eyes returned to the photograph—a picture worth way more than a thousand words.

  Some of them not nice words.

  “So… what?” I asked, searching his eyes for answers he wasn’t being terribly forthcoming with. Except I didn’t need them; I knew. Maybe I had always known. It was easy to ignore all the signs, tucked away in a boarding school. Different name. A father who lived in some Mediterranean country doing who-knows-what with embryonic stem cells. A mother who fled shortly after I was born. I wasn’t really hers. “I was cloned?” Tears welled against the edge of my bottom eyelid. I’m Frankenstein’s monster.

  “No.” Jack sandwiched my face with his hands. His palms hot against my cheeks. “No! You are not a monster. We… are not monsters.”

  We? I looked back at the picture. John DeWeese. With hair. He is you. A slightly older Jack, but not by much. Dr. DeWeese in his late-twenties, early-thirties.

  “How long have you known?” My voice cracked.

  “About being cloned from my father? A while.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He cocked his head. “How do you tell a seventeen-year-old girl that you care for deeply and who strongly opposes how our fathers played with human life that, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m a clone of my own father?’”

  “How long have you known I was cloned from Sandra?”

  “I suspected the day you overheard my parents arguing about Sandra.”

  “You heard my thoughts. That day in the kitchen when you spilled your orange juice.”

  He nodded.

  “How long have you known I was cloned?”