I kept fidgeting, alternating between restlessness and excitement. For the past thirty minutes, I’d rotated pacing back and forth outside the hover hangar and sitting on the bench inside. Dale, the hangar attendant, watched me curiously. His hazel eyes followed my every moment with increasing worry, probably concerned that I would wear a hole in the concrete if I didn’t sit still. The cuticle on my right thumb had seen better days; twenty minutes of worrying it caused blood to well around the rim of my nail.
Where was Erik? He left headquarters nearly two hours ago. The trip took less than half of that. Begging Mac’s permission for the weekend visit had been no easy feat. On the promise that we would behave, adhere to the McDonough’s house rules, he had reluctantly agreed.
The loud roar of an engine overhead made me come to an abrupt halt. I looked up. A small hover craft was approaching the hangar. The pilot’s face was obscured by a flight helmet, but I knew it was him. My heart began to beat faster, thumping so loudly in my chest Dale probably heard it.
As the plane made its final descent towards the run way, I hurried back into the bay.
“It’s him,” Dale called from his post, relieved as I was that Erik had finally arrived. The poor guy was ready to be rid of me.
The plane’s wheels touched down; I sprinted towards the craft, reaching the side before he had the chance to open the hatch. Erik removed the flight helmet and tossed it on the seat next to him. His dark hair was shorter than when I’d seen him the week before, his face clean-shaven. Turquoise eyes lit up when he smiled at me through the glass. Impatiently, I waited while Erik reached beneath the passenger seat to collect his belongings.
Tears welled in my eyes as the hatch slowly opened, and Erik blew me a kiss. Instantly my nerves calmed, he was here. A slow smile spread across his face as his eyes traveled the length of my body. Self-consciously, I smoothed the blue and white sundress I’d chosen for today. Gretchen had sent someone into the city to pick it up. Not that my closet at the McDonough’s house wasn’t full of clothes, some I’d never even worn, but today was special. It was the first time we’d seen each other in person since saying I love you.
Erik continued to stare at me, making no move to exit the plane. The thin smile I wore began to fade. Did I look that awful? Had he changed his mind about our relationship?
The past week had been horrible, the majority of it spent in the hospital. My skin still had the pallor to prove it. I’d tried my best to pull myself together, to appear whole when inside I was a million broken pieces. Gretchen had helped me straighten my hair, brushing the chestnut strands until they shined. She’d even applied my makeup since my hands were too unsteady to hold the brushes.
Erik broke the silence, his words thick with emotion. “Hey, Tals.”
I beamed through my tears, feeling stupid for crying but unable to stop the waterworks.
Erik climbed over the side of the plane, a duffle bag in one hand and a bouquet of purple and white flowers in the other. He tossed the duffle to free one hand; it landed with a dull thud on the pavement by my feet. An instant later he was there, standing in front of me. The purple and white roses he held gave off an intoxicating fragrance.
“I would have been here sooner, but I made a detour for these,” he said, then softly added, “I’ve missed you.”
“They’re beautiful,” I breathed, inhaling the scent, and taking the offered gift with two hands. The tears that had collected in my eyes spilled over, trailing hot streams down my cheeks.
Erik stepped closer, wrapped his strong arms around my waist, and pulled me against him, crushing the flowers in the process. The white button-down he wore was cotton, soft and warm against my cheek. He rested his chin on the crown of my head and stroked my hair.
“I have been counting down the minutes until I saw you,” he sent. The words were what I’d longed to hear. I’d missed him so much it physically hurt. While we’d only been apart a week, it might as well have been a lifetime. So much had happened since I last saw him.
My arms encircled his waist, and I squeezed him tighter to make sure he was real. Lately, the line between reality and fantasy had become blurred. The last thing I wanted was to open my eyes and realize this was a dream.
“I’m here, Tals,” Erik sent, answering the question that I was too afraid to voice. I didn’t want him knowing how clouded my brain had become, how damaged I truly was. Erik was strong, a fighter, a rock. Weakness was not in his vocabulary.
He pulled back, putting enough space between us that he could study my face. Suddenly, the tears still tracing hot streaks on my cheeks – and likely ruining my makeup – seemed ridiculous. Why was I crying anyway? Erik’s visit was the first good thing that had happened to me in a long time. Instead of sniffling like a child, I should be jumping up and down for joy.
“Look at me,” Erik whispered, the command soft but authoritative.
I didn’t want to obey. After all I’d done in preparation to see him, I was now a mess. And he was perfect, as usual. His skin was tan, a shade darker than when I’d seen him at headquarters. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms. His khaki shorts were wrinkle-free, even after the hover ride. Thanks to all the anxious pacing I’d done while waiting for him and the humidity that was heavy in the summer air Gretchen’s ministrations were proving a waste. Strands of my chestnut hair clung to my bare shoulders and upper back and forehead. My feet were dirty since the flip-flops had provided little protection from the freshly cut grass next to the landing strip – my literal stomping grounds while I waited for his arrival.
Unfortunately, Erik had a strong handle on my Talents, and that, combined with the fact that the doctors felt it necessary to increase the dosage of my medications, made it impossible to refuse his request. Slowly, I tipped my head back and met his turquoise gaze.
“I’ve missed you,” Erik repeated, speaking aloud this time as if sensing that I didn’t want him in my head. Not that I minded, too much, when he tuned into my thoughts and emotions, but my head was a confused place lately. At times, I had trouble discerning which way was up; he didn’t need to know that.
I stared up at him, blinking back the tears that wouldn’t quit. The sun was high overhead, and the intensity of the orange orb caused me to squint.
“What, haven’t you missed me too?” Erik teased when I didn’t reciprocate his sentiments.
“More than you know,” I whispered, finally connecting my mouth and my brain. That had been happening a lot lately, too. There was this disconnect between what my brain was thinking and what my mouth said. Articulating my thoughts and feelings was difficult. Thankfully, the only person who cared whether I spoke was Dr. Wythe, and even he allowed me sit in silence if I preferred.
Tentatively Erik lowered his head until his lips hovered millimeters from mine. His eyes remained opened, locking our gazes. “Can I kiss you?” he asked huskily.
I blinked, confused. Why would he ask? Since when did Erik Kelley have to ask a girl, particularly his girlfriend, whether he could kiss her?
Erik didn’t wait for my answer. Instead, he gently touched his mouth to mine. The kiss was so gentle, the contact so slight that I thought maybe I’d imagined it. But when he drew me closer, pressing one hand into the small of my back and grasping my hip with the other, he deepened the kiss. I responded, coming alive for the first time in recent memory. This was not a dream, I realized. He was actually here, touching me, holding me, kissing me. I brought my arms up and wrapped them around his neck, knocking him in the back of the head with the flowers. Erik didn’t seem to care; he squeezed me tighter. Not nearly as gentle as he had been several seconds before.
Someone cleared his throat loudly nearby. I ignored the disruption at first, not caring who saw us or whether that person was bothered by our public display of affection. All that mattered was Erik, and being close to him. The throat clearing came a second time. While I would have been happy to continue to ignore the voyeur, Erik
had more propriety than I did. Gently, he eased me back from him. That was when I realized that somewhere in the midst of our kiss I’d practically wrapped my entire body around his.
Only slightly embarrassed, I turned to greet the throat-clearer. Mac stood several feet off to the right, which turned my slight embarrassment into whole-hearted humiliation. Of all people to catch Erik and me making out, Mac was last on the list.
“Director,” Erik said in greeting. Erik was not the least bit ashamed at having been caught in the act, so to speak. When I tried to step out of Erik’s embrace, the hand at my hip prevented me from doing so.
“Mr. Kelley,” Mac replied coolly, “nice of you to come.” Mac’s tone contradicted his words, making it obvious he was not thrilled by Erik’s presence. “While you are here, I would appreciate if you refrained from pawing Natalia. She is still recovering from her incident,” Mac continued.
Erik’s muscles tensed at Mac’s chastisement. His mind was closed off, but his incredulity was palpable. Before Erik could say something that he might regret later, I spoke up.
“I am fine, Mac,” I snapped. “Dr. Thistler says my health is improving every day.”
That was true, at every visit she exclaimed how well the new medications were working. Secretly, I disagreed. The seizures had stopped completely, but my brain was always fuzzy and something felt off.
“Natalia,” Mac began in a much softer tone than he’d used with Erik.
“No, Tals, the Director is right. You are still building your strength back up,” Erik said to me before I could say something I might later regret. To Mac, he said, “I apologize. I only came to be with her.”
The fingers digging into my hip bone warned me not to argue, which I was about to do. My temper had flared the moment I laid eyes on Mac. Erik, being so cognizant of my emotions, must have noticed. He was trying to remain neutral, not rock the boat, since Mac had been reluctant to let him visit in the first place. Gretchen’s insistence that Erik’s presence would help speed my recovery had sealed the deal. That and Dr. Thistler agreeing that being around people I was comfortable with and trusted would be beneficial for me. Mac argued Erik excited me too much, and thought him a distraction when I was supposed to be resting.
“My wife made up the guest room in our house for you,” Mac said stiffly. “I trust you won’t feel the need to wander the house in the middle of the night.”
“Thank you,” Erik replied cordially. “And that won’t be a problem.”
“Good,” Mac said. “Why don’t you two come with me and we can get you settled.”
Mac turned on one perfectly polished loafer and headed towards a waiting car without further comment. Erik reached down and grabbed his duffle, then laced his fingers with mine and together we followed the Director.
The short ride across campus was taken in uncomfortable silence. Ordinarily, I would have reached out to Erik mentally, but with my emotions running wild and my inability to control my thoughts, I thought it best to refrain in Mac’s presence. In fact, the more I thought about Erik’s visit, the more I regretted having begged for the concession. Once we were in the McDonough’s home, Gretchen would be able to monitor any and all of our mental communications. Unlike Mac, Gretchen wasn’t devious, she simply worried about me. Any eavesdropping would be out of concern; she worried that I was more affected by what had happened with Penny than I was letting on. Her assessment was correct. I tried to keep my inner turmoil from spilling out, but that task was easier said than done. Pretending that the girl who had once been my best friend was now my mortal enemy, and that I was happy about her scheduled execution were not easy tasks. The doctors, Mac, even Gretchen thought I should hate Penny. But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t muster the sentiment.
Erik and I sat in the back seat, holding hands, for the duration of the five minute journey to Mac’s house. He traced small, slow circles on my palm, a calming gesture that I appreciated immensely. My earlier anger with Mac was still tingeing my emotions red. I tried to mask my resentment from Erik, no point in giving him more reason to dislike the Direction. But being more susceptible to my feelings than most, he still felt it.
Gretchen stood framed in the doorway, sunlight catching the white, blonde strands of hair that had escaped her bun, when we pulled up the drive. She held a dishtowel in her hands, wringing it obsessively out of nervous habit. While she had been the biggest supporter of Erik’s visit, she was uneasy about the four of us – Gretchen, Mac, Erik, and me – being under the same roof for two days. Thankfully, Donovan had suddenly remembered he had somewhere else to be for the weekend. I wasn’t the only one relieved that we wouldn’t have the two boys’ antagonistic relationship to contend with, Mac had approved the weekend away without interrogation.
When Mac brought the car to a stop and turned off the engine, I gave Erik’s hand a reassuring squeeze and offered him the most genuine smile I could muster. The nervous energy rolling off of him was evident, he saw staying in the McDonough’s home as a putting himself in the lion’s den. I didn’t blame him. I’d lived with Mac and Gretchen for years, and I still felt that way sometimes.
“Erik, welcome,” Gretchen said warmly, holding out a hand to relieve him of the duffle bag.
“Thank you for having me, Mrs. McDonough,” Erik replied politely. He shook his head in response to her offer to carry his bag, but did shake her hand.
“I have the guest room ready for you, but my son is out of town for the weekend and his room is closer to Talia’s if you would be more comfortable there?” Gretchen moved aside and gestured for us to enter.
“He will be fine in the guest room,” Mac interjected.
“The guest room is perfect, ma’am,” Erik said quickly, though his easy compliance had nothing to do with a need to please Mac. Erik found the thought of sleeping in Donavon’s bed less appealing than torture.
Gretchen led the way through the foyer, past the kitchen, and down a long hallway to the right – the guest wing. Since Mac was the Director of Toxic and prominent people frequently visited the School, the McDonough’s home had an entire guest wing to accommodate said important people. I’d stayed in one of the rooms with my parents when I was young. Or, at least, I thought I had. The memory was a little hazy, but walking down the hallway with its mahogany painted walls and portraits of past Toxic Directors triggered something in my mind. It was the same feeling I experienced every time I ventured down this corridor, which was rare. Today, though, the sensation was stronger. I could imagine my toddler-self sliding down the wooden floor on stocking feet.
The guest room was actually a suite, complete with a sitting room, bathroom, and tiny kitchenette for morning coffee and late night cocktails. A brown leather sofa and two matching arm chairs congregated around a wooden coffee table with Toxic’s logo carved into the top made up the living room. An enormous wall screen hung on one wall. Jealously caused my stomach to seize when I realized it was at least three times the size of the one in my own bedroom. Not that I watched my wall screen very often, but still.
“There are fresh towels in the powder room, which is through the bedroom,” Gretchen told Erik, pointing towards a partially open door to the right. “Drea stocked the cabinet with a selection of coffees and teas, and you are welcome to help yourself to anything in the main kitchen.”
Drea was the housekeeper from the city who came in twice a week to help Gretchen do whatever it was Gretchen did all day. Secretly, I thought Drea’s real purpose was companionship. With Mac gone so much, and Donavon and me down at the School, Gretchen was lonely.
“Thank you,” Erik said.
“Our bedroom is between the guest wing and Natalia’s room, just so you know,” Mac said pointedly.
My face flushed to an impressive shade of crimson at Mac’s unnecessary comment. He’d already made it crystal clear that Erik and I were not allowed to sleep in the same room, be alone in the house, or pretty much be without a chaperone at any point during the visit.
>
Gretchen shot her husband a chastising glare, one that she normally reserved for Donavon when he cursed in her presence. “Dear, don’t you have a video conference with Senator Paulski that you need to prepare for?”
Mac’s expression morphed from steely disapproval to surprise at the not so gentle suggestion. “Yes, I do. I need to get to my office, but I will be back in time for dinner.” With one last warning glare at Erik, Mac was gone, taking with him the frigid air in the room.
“I have some things I need to attend to as well,” Gretchen told Erik and me. “Will you kids be joining us for supper?”
Since our only other option was to eat at the School’s cafeteria, whose menu choices were even more limited than usual because school was not currently in session, my agreement was on the tip of my tongue.
“I had something special planned for Talia and me if that is okay?” Erik replied, interrupting me before I had the chance to acquiesce.
“Of course.” Gretchen smiled that warm motherly smile of hers. “I am so glad you were able to take time off to be with Talia right now. My husband doesn’t mean anything by his comments. He is just very overprotective with everything that has happened.”
Yeah, right, I thought bitterly. Gretchen could sugarcoat the situation all she liked. The truth was simple, Mac disliked Erik immensely. And what was more, he didn’t trust him. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to pick up on that fact.
After giving Erik the grand tour of the bedroom and bathroom, Gretchen finally departed to go do whatever it was Gretchen did.
“So what is the something special you have planned?” I asked Erik once we were alone.
Despite Mac’s rules and warnings, we were lying on the couch in the sitting room. Erik was on his back and I was curled up next to him with my head resting on his shoulder. He played with the long pieces of hair that I’d painstakingly straightened only to have the humidity make them curly again.
“It’s a surprise,” Erik sent back. His eyes were closed, a blissful expression on his face. I hadn’t seen him so calm, serene even, since we’d first met. That fact should have relaxed me. The mental barriers he’d erected, blocking me from reaching his innermost thoughts, kept me on edge.