Part 23 (2/2)

Me, crying as my mom dropped me off at Grandma's.

Sleepless nights, too scared to close my eyes in an unfamiliar home.

The police coming to our home in Michigan because the neighbors thought something was off with me and they'd heard the rumors.

All these memories flashed quickly through my mind like Aaron had my brain on fast-forward. Suddenly, I was standing at Lakeside and everything slowed. The colors became pristine. I felt the cold autumn wind, smelled the scent of salt water, heard the horrified shouts from the students around me.

My heart slammed wildly against my chest. I was there, in that moment, reliving Savannah's death. Slowly, I turned and there was Lewis standing in the parking lot. The first time I'd seen him. Lakeside disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

Lewis, at the front of the cla.s.s, looking at me.

Lewis, walking with me down the hall as he hinted that he could read minds.

Lewis. Lewis. Lewis.

And I knew Aaron had reached the memories he needed. The memories he would steal. The memories that warmed my heart at night. The memories that made me want to be here, alive, now.

”No!” I screamed, jerking against my bindings. But even though I could have sworn my eyes were wide open, I saw no one in the room, only my memories. ”No, please!” He would take my memories. He would take Lewis from me forever. ”Please, Lewis!”

But no one came and my memories kept s.h.i.+fting, slipping past me without my consent.

Lewis and me on the ferry coming over to the island.

Me looking out my bedroom window and seeing Caroline below.

Me being pulled from that drainage pipe.

And then it stopped. Just as suddenly as the memories had come, they stopped. Everything went black.

I didn't know where I was. I didn't understand. I couldn't feel my body. For one long moment I merely stared into that darkness, floating, waiting...too afraid and confused to move. I was only a conscious mind in some dark reality. At the edges of that darkness, was a thrumming pain threatening to flare to life.

”Please!” I cried out, my voice hollow, echoing in the empty s.p.a.ce that had somehow become my world.

Was I dead?

”Enough!” A deep voice growled, shaking the very air around me.

I didn't know if he was talking to me and I didn't care. It was an unfamiliar voice, but I grasped onto it anyway, my lifeline, my way out of this nothingness. Suddenly, I felt heavy, as if I was sinking...sinking into something thick, like quicksand. Warmth flooded my body, starting at my toes and seeping upward, and with the warmth the ache in my head flared to life. Vaguely I became aware of something wet trailing from my nostrils to my lips and into my mouth. The metallic taste of blood swept over my tongue. I grimaced, my stomach revolting.

”Open your eyes. Come on, Sweetheart.”

I didn't want to open my eyes. I wanted to sink back into that darkness, sink away from the pain thumping against the side of my head. Warm palms cupped my cheeks, anchoring me to reality. The man was persistent. Slowly, I lifted my lashes. A face wavered before me, a masculine face of hard planes and all I could think about was how he'd look so much better without that dark beard over his cheeks and chin.

Worried gray eyes studied me. ”You'll be all right,” the man insisted.

But I didn't care. My mind was spinning, my stomach clenched into a tight knot so I thought I'd be sick. Too weak to speak, I closed my eyes again. I was vaguely aware of someone pulling at my arms, then my legs. With nothing to hold me up, I slouched into a hard body. Apparently my bones had disappeared. Muscled arms slipped under my legs and around my back, pulling me close to a warm body.

”Cam, Cam, please, dear G.o.d, please look at me.” It was a different voice calling to me. A male voice that sent my heart racing for some odd reason.

I wanted to look at the speaker. I wanted to look at whoever was calling to me. If it was the last thing I did, I knew I needed to look at him. Slowly, I lifted my eyes. A concerned blue gaze stared down at me. Someone familiar; this man slightly younger than the one holding me. Someone I should know, but couldn't place.

”Please Cameron, please talk to me.”

But I couldn't talk because blood was seeping down my throat, and the taste was making me nauseated. My stomach twisted. I felt cold, bitterly cold. Voices came in and out of focus. Faces appeared hovering over me, shadows that came and went like the sun. Was I dreaming? Maybe dying. Yes, probably dying.

”Take her,” someone said. ”Take her to her grandmother. Hurry.”

I was moving, floating, those muscled arms still around me; warm, and comforting. A heart beat strong and sure against the side of my arm. Someone was carrying me, someone human. No Angel of Death. I tilted my head back and stared into the man's gray gaze.

”Don't worry,” he said as he carried me through a door and into a hall. ”Let go, Cameron. Just let go.”

And so I did.

I closed my eyes and let the world fade to nothing.

Chapter 21.

Six Months Later The woman sitting at the table across from me was thinking about having an affair with her Scuba instructor.

She was imagining his dark skin glistening under the warm sun, his muscles flexing as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lowered his mouth to hers. Or maybe, she thought, she'd have an affair with the guy who cleaned her pool. Her husband was heading back to the U.S. for business and would never know.

I wanted to tell her it wouldn't work, that in those Desperate Housewife shows, they always suspected the Pool boy. Instead, I hid my grin by lowering my head and swiping down the counter where I'd been serving fruity drinks, hotdogs and meat pies since eleven this morning.

I wished she'd keep her R-rated thoughts to herself. I really didn't want to imagine her, her Scuba instructor, or the Pool guy naked. But I guess she couldn't help it. The thoughts seeped from her mind like the warm breeze currently drifting in from the Caribbean Sea.

Their hopes, their dreams, their nightmares...

What they thought about, I thought about.

Sometimes it really sucked to be able to read minds.

With a sigh I focused on the aqua ocean not twenty feet from me. The soft roar of the waves was always calming. Sure, our little cafe wasn't exactly Five Star, but you couldn't beat the view. Pink and orange rays from the setting sun pierced the late afternoon clouds, trailing pastel fingers across the waves. The telltale fins of dolphins crested the water's surface, always thrilling me like a kid on Christmas morning. And you couldn't beat the uniform, shorts and a tank top. It was hard to believe that just seven months ago I'd been in school, waking every morning at six, trudging to a place where I had to pretend to be normal. But this...this was freedom.

”Closing time.” I pressed stop on the CD player, putting an end to Bob Marley, for today at least. Then I hopped over the counter, my bare feet sinking into the cool sand. Why wear shoes when you lived on the beach? ”Anyone need a drink for the ride home?”

The natives eating meat pies shook their heads. With a wave, they stood from their wooden benches, taking their pies with them, and made their way toward their bikes. They were regulars who often stopped on their way home from work.

But Mrs. Miller, the woman who was thinking of seducing the hired help, still sat at her small table, looking lost and forlorn, almost like a child. She was lonely. She didn't want to go home to an empty house, even if her house was a mansion. I felt bad for her, but not bad enough to stick around and listen to her sob story. Nope, no more would I be seduced into feeling guilty by sad eyes and depressing thoughts. As Grandma had said, there wasn't much I could do to help these people anyway.

Besides, today was my birthday. Today I was eighteen. No way in heck I was working any longer then I had to. Funny how a year could make such a difference in a person's life. Gazing out at the water, I pulled my dark hair into a ponytail. Only a short time ago my need to please would have had me walking over to the woman and asking her if she was okay. Not now. Nope, when you faced death things changed.

”It's so quiet here,” the woman drawled in her southern accent.

I nodded noncommittally, not daring to look her in the eyes. Of course it was quiet. It was paradise. A paradise I'd needed after being in a hospital for over a month. And don't bother asking what was wrong with me, they never did figure it out, the doctor saying some nonsense about how sometimes people slip into comas for no reason.

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