The Mind Games (The Mind Readers)

  “You girls look so tired,” Sierra said gently, resting her hand on my shoulder. “Perhaps we should wait to talk until they rest.”

  As if we could sleep. Father Myron was at the church, praying, for what, I wasn’t sure. Someone had made sandwiches, but they sat uneaten upon the coffee table. The house felt empty without her. Empty, yet I felt her energy still here…waiting, watching. Maybe it was in me, perhaps it lingered like a lost soul, or maybe it was wishful thinking.

  “We’ll search for her,” Aaron said, entering from the kitchen, his voice rough and raw. I’d never seen him so pale, almost wild looking. His hair stood on end and his entire body shook like some toddler on a sugar high as he paced the living room. “I’ll insist the Coast Guard search for a few more days.”

  I saw the grim look on Owen’s face. He knew as well as I that Mom would never be found. Nora said nothing, merely stared at the empty fireplace. She looked so small, pale and hunched in on herself as if she was slowly collapsing under the weight of our new reality. She had no one left. I had Lewis, and whether I wanted them or not, I had Aaron and Owen. But Nora… Nora just had me, a pathetic excuse for a sister.

  “I swear,” Aaron continued. “We will find her, even if—”

  “She’s dead,” I interrupted. I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t let it drag on and on like some bad T.V. series that refused to end.

  “You don’t know that!” he said almost frantically.

  “I do.”

  The room fell silent. Even if Aaron wouldn’t admit it, they all knew the truth. No one could survive those rough waters. Although she didn’t react, Nora knew the truth too. I couldn’t explain how or why, but it was as if our mother’s imprint had faded from our souls; her very energy had left our bodies.

  “She can’t be gone,” Aaron said, looking like a lost child.

  But I knew she was; I’d felt her energy leave and she’d taken the source with her. Only Aaron’s powers remained thrumming through my body. Nora broke down, large tears trailing down her face. I couldn’t even cry. She didn’t sob, or scream, her body didn’t even shake. She just sat there silently as the tears filled her blue eyes and rolled down her pale cheeks, one by one.

  My heart had broken into a million pieces. I couldn’t cry. I didn’t deserve it. I hadn’t really known my mom; and I hadn’t really tried to know her. It was my fault. Nora, my sister, thought so. I knew so. My mother had died for me, a child she barely knew. My lungs constricted. I couldn’t seem to breathe. I felt trapped here with these strangers. Trapped by fate.

  Owen paced the small room. “I know you girls don’t want to, but I think it would be best if we discuss our options.”

  Options? What options did we have? I stood, the blanket falling to the couch.

  “Cameron?” Owen called my name hesitantly.

  I ignored him and moved woodenly through the kitchen. The thought of sharing my feelings or discussing our future, made me want to puke. I shoved open the door and stepped into the cool comfort of the backyard.

  My mom was dead, yet the sun had risen, the light glistening through the tree in my mom’s backyard. Light that sent brilliant morning rays across the overgrown garden. A garden that still thrived without my mom.

  I sank onto the back stoop. The storm had dissipated as if it had never happened. Life would go on. The source would keep flowing. I’d been right all along. It didn’t matter what we did. It didn’t matter who we fought or what lives we took, the energy would always be there even after our petty problems were long gone.

  The door screeched open and I knew Lewis stood there. He worried; he was frustrated because he didn’t know what to say, or how to help. He didn’t realize that he couldn’t do anything for me now.

  With nothing to say, I stared at the raindrops hanging from the gardenia like crystalline tears, wondering how everything could look so alive yet I could feel so empty. Slowly, as if he feared frightening me away, Lewis settled on the damp stoop. His warm body was pressed next to mine but it offered no comfort. His heat didn’t penetrate the ice that had formed around my body, my heart, my soul. He didn’t deserve this coldness from me, but I couldn’t seem to react otherwise.

  He’d carried me home. I remembered it now although I remembered little else after getting on the shrimp boat and heading back to shore. Owen had taken charge, the only man who had remained in control. All I could think about was that we’d left her behind. After thirty minutes of futile searching, we’d left my mom to rot in the sea. They’d had to force Nora aboard as she’d screamed and clawed her way toward the side of the boat where we’d last seen mom. But I had been oddly numb, as if I floated above the scenery and watched a foreign movie with no subtitles.

  As Nora screamed and Owen had tried to comfort her, Lewis had scooped me up and held me close. I swore the feel of his heart beating against mine was the only thing that kept me breathing, kept me alive when all I wanted to do was step over the edge of the boat and allow the waves to smother me in their embrace. He’d carried me home and I owed him for that. Someday, when I wasn’t completely lost, I’d repay him.

  “They want to form a search party,” he said.

  I released a wry laugh, hysterical amusement bubbling within me. Aaron prayed that somehow she still lived. Suddenly the situation was entirely ridiculous. We were mind readers. We could sense the energy flowing through the universe; we knew how life and death worked. But it didn’t matter, we were still human and we reacted like humans. Always hopeful. There in the back of our minds…always wishing for more.

  “Talk to me,” Lewis whispered.

  My amusement faded as quickly as it had arrived. “And say what?” I didn’t look at him, but continued to stare at the damp, glistening garden. If I looked at him, and saw the compassion on his face, I’d fold. “It’s my fault?”

  “It’s not.”

  “All of this.” I stood and spread my arms wide. “All of this fighting, this dying…it was all to protect me.”

  “And if you were gone,” Lewis said, standing. “It would be someone else.” He gripped my upper arms and pulled me closer, forcing me to look at him. “Don’t you get it? It’s not your fault. It has nothing to do with you. It has to do with their issues and their greed.”

  At one time I might have believed him, but he didn’t understand the truth. He hadn’t read my mother’s thoughts right before she’d died. “She let go on purpose, Lewis.”

  He frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

  Of course he would be confused because who would ever assume such a horrible thing? The tears that had been vacant suddenly stung my eyes. I couldn’t let them fall, I couldn’t. If I cried, that ice wall would crack and a flood of emotions I couldn’t control would come crashing down, drowning me as the water had drowned my mother.

  He paled. “You don’t mean…”

  When I didn’t respond, but just stood there with watery eyes he shook his head in denial. “You don’t know—”

  “I do,” I cried out, my voice echoing through the alleyways and squares of Savannah, briefly interrupting the honking of cars and the chirping of early morning birds. “I heard her thoughts, her feelings. She let go on purpose. She knew if she died, the source would die with her. If the source was gone, S.P.I. would leave me alone. Because they don’t know the identity of my father, they’ll assume I’m a normal mind reader now… no threat. She died for me.”

  “No.”

  “Yes!”

  My breathing was harsh with suppressed emotions as we stood there staring at each other. The look of horror on Lewis’ face nearly did me in. The death of my mother had tainted me. I was someone to be pitied, something almost monstrous. I didn’t want that look, not from him.

  “Who else knows?” he asked, his voice rough.

  I’d placed a horrible secret upon his shoulders; a secret that he now had to carry along with me whether he wanted to or not. He should have hated me, but I could tell by the softness in his blue eyes
that he didn’t. “Only Nora.”

  “Christ.” He sank onto the stoop, rubbing his hands over his shaved head. We grew silent once more. I could hear nothing from the house and wondered if they sat there numb, confused, like me.

  “I’m so sorry, Cameron.”

  His compassion made me weak. My legs gave out and I sat next to him. The longer I talked to him, and the more I let his empathy soothe me, the more that gaping hole in my heart spread, ripping, tearing. I couldn’t take his kindness. I just wanted to be alone, completely and utterly alone. Away from everyone I knew; away from the constant reminder and the memories.

  But of course Lewis didn’t leave. “You know this isn’t your fault.”

  I rested my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands, trying to hide from the world, from him. How many times in the past six hours had I gone over the events? How many times had I replayed conversations with my mother, looking for clues until I thought I’d go insane? Had she planned this all along? Could I have talked her out of it?

  “Maybe she thought she had no choice,” I said, mostly to myself.

  “There’s always a choice. We would have fought for her. We all would have fought, and we could have won. It wasn’t right of her to make this decision on her own.”

  I knew he was angry for me, and I knew he was right. But instinctively I wanted to protect her, which was ridiculous considering she was dead. Gone. She no longer needed protection. She’d fled this world, and had left Nora and me to deal with the aftereffects.

  “That’s the thing,” I said. “We all make decisions every day that we think are right, but don’t really understand how it’s going to affect the other people in our lives.”

  Lewis took my hand, but I could barely feel his touch. My skin was cold, so very cold. “She should have known how it would affect you and Nora.” He shook his head. “It’s not right.”

  It wasn’t right, but it had happened. I knew he thought about the parents he’d lost, and he didn’t want that emptiness for me. But I hadn’t lost both parents. Not like Lewis and Nora. I still had my father. A man I barely knew. Then again, I had hardly known my mother either.

  “Why do I care?” I closed my eyes, the pain too great. In the dark I could deal a little easier. “I didn’t even know she existed until a few weeks ago.”

  “Because by showing up when you least expected it, she gave you hope. Hope for a family, a life.”

  That elusive happily ever after I so craved. “I should have known better.”

  “Don’t,” he whispered, cupping the side of my face, his thumb softly brushing my cheek. “You can still have a life, a family. Owen wants to take you and Nora to Maine.”

  I jerked away from him. “No!” The thought of being holed up with Nora, Owen and Aaron made me ill. They blamed me, they all blamed me and I wouldn’t be trapped with the guilt.

  He dropped his hand to his side. “He thinks you’ll be better protected. He thinks the change will be good for you.”

  “I don’t need to be protected any longer, do I?

  He didn’t respond.

  I glanced out at the garden of this home that had been here for at least one hundred and fifty years. “And you?”

  “I’ll go where you go. Wherever you need to be.”

  He was too good to me. Too good and I was a jerk because all I wanted to do was push him away and be alone. Be free of the emotions and attachments. Be free of the pain that loving someone caused.

  “You aren’t alone,” he said, obviously sensing my emotions. “You have a sister. You have…me.”

  But didn’t he understand? We never truly had anyone. They faded, they all died and in the end we were left by ourselves.

  He brushed his knuckles softly down my cheek. “Please, just come inside. Eat something. Sleep.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Okay, then…then I’ll get you something.”

  He didn’t understand my meaning, but I let him believe I was talking about food. When I remained silent, he hesitated only a moment, then stood and moved into the kitchen, eager to help, to do something. The door shut softly behind him. I could hear the clank of dishes, the running of water as Lewis prepared a meal I wouldn’t eat. It made him feel better to do something, and I’d let him feel better, at least for a few brief moments.

  A small white butterfly landed on the gardenia. It moved its wings back and forth slowly, then flittered to the next bush further away. Suddenly I was on the beach with my mom.

  She lifted her hand to the breeze. A tiny white butterfly floated to her fingertips, resting there. “If you trust in yourself, others will trust in you. Even a tiny butterfly,” my mom’s voice whispered through my memory. “If you are calm within, the world will be calm around you.”

  “And how do I do that?” I’d asked, mesmerized by the way the butterfly trusted her.

  “You find that inner peace deep within you. You connect with the world, with life. You learn who you truly are meant to be.”

  The memory faded, the garden coming sharply into focus. Who was I? Did I really know? Grandma had controlled my life until I was seventeen. Then John and the compound had tried to take over. Once I’d arrived in Savannah my mother and her cause had taken center stage. I realized with some surprise that I’d truly never been alone, truly never relied upon myself, truly never trusted in me.

  The butterfly lifted and fluttered down an overgrown path toward the back of the garden. Mesmerized, I slowly stood and followed that butterfly, ignoring the damp underbrush that clung to me. The moment I reached her, she lifted and fluttered to the next neglected plant, always keeping a few steps ahead of me like some elusive dream. I ducked underneath the low branches, heavy with rain and froze. There was a gate that led into an alley. I’d never noticed it before.

  The butterfly flew over the gate and disappeared into the city. My heart slammed wildly in my chest. I could leave like that butterfly. The world was out there. A world full of mystery, full answers. I reached out and wrapped my hand around the rusty gate latch. It opened easily under my touch.

  On one side of the fence was a life I knew; a life I’d always known and always hated. I glanced at the alley. On the other side was a life of freedom. Freedom from the pain. They all knew who they were. Nora was so sure in her abilities. Lewis had always been steadfast in his beliefs. But I hadn’t a clue what I wanted, who I was.

  I glanced back toward the stoop. Lewis stood there watching me. I couldn’t see his expression from where I was, but I could read his emotions. He was frantic to come after me, but he also knew he couldn’t force me to stay.

  I’m sorry, I said, letting the mental message float across the yard. But for now, I have to go.

  I know, came back to me.

  He didn’t move as I lifted the latch and stepped into the alley. The gate swung back into place, cutting me off from the house, from them all.

  I tore my gaze from Lewis. The alley went on, and on, weaving between homes as ancient as the dirt at my feet. Freedom cried out to me, promised comfort. I took a step forward, then another, and another, following that butterfly.

  I didn’t know where I was going, I didn’t know how I’d get there, but I knew I had to leave and find me… just me.

  Chapter 26

  4 Months Later

  I knew what he would say even before he appeared in the kitchen. It was a conversation I’d known was coming all week, but I hadn’t wanted to dwell on the truth. Even now I kept my focus on the mountain of potatoes before me, chopping and peeling until my hands were numb and my skin almost raw.

  It was so easy not to get lost in my own emotions here; there was too much work to do for those in need, too many others to worry about in this soup kitchen. Here, no one expected me to use my powers or sell my soul. No, all they wanted and needed were the basics: food and shelter for the night. And if they were lucky, and we weren’t crowded, for a couple of nights.

  But I admit, as I felt Malcolm come closer, my resolve to l
eave head held high and a smile upon my face waned.

  “Cameron.” Malcolm paused in the open area that separated the kitchen from the dining room.

  I glanced up. There was only kindness in his dark eyes, but there was also a stiff resolution upon his face that said there would be no arguing with him. Not that I’d planned to argue, I knew this conversation had to happen. Still, the fact that this part of my life would soon be over left me feeling more than unsettled.

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah?”

  “Can we talk?”

  The rest of the volunteer kitchen staff glanced my way, but before I was bombarded with their thoughts, I threw up my mental wall. I needed to be in my right mind when I spoke to Malcolm. Even knowing what he would say ahead of time didn’t make it any easier. I felt like a baby bird being shoved out of the nest.

  “Sure.” I set the knife down and rinsed off my hands, taking my time. I savored the scent of soup and sandwiches. Savored the soft murmur of conversation from those in the dining room. They weren’t loud or obnoxious like in a fast food restaurant. Nor were they demanding and entitled like those patrons who frequented the fancy restaurant downtown that we’d driven by only yesterday to pick up donated supplies. They took what we gave them with a murmured thank you and made their way to their table to eat what might be their only meal of the day.

  I didn’t bother to remove my apron as I strolled through the dining area, already filled with the hungry and needy. Here it didn’t matter much what you looked like. I’d spent most of my days with no makeup on and my hair in a lopsided ponytail.

  “Cameron!” Lizzie raced up to me and threw her arms around my waist. At five and full of life and energy, she was so different from the subdued and quiet Caroline but both had found a place in my heart. Even though Caroline had lived in a mansion and Lizzie lived in a homeless shelter, the child was happier than any child at Aaron’s compound.

  I ruffled her dark hair. “How are you?” I worried about the children the most. Worried that they didn’t get enough to eat, that they might not find a safe place to sleep at night.