Pushing the Limits

Page 32

A woman with slicked-back brown hair emerged from an office wearing a navy suit. She gave me the business smile. “Noah Hutchins?”
About damn time. I stood and stared down at Mrs. Collins. “My brothers are my future.”
“Your brothers are fine.” Her eyes pleaded with me. “I promise, they’re safe.”
I shook my head, trying to ignore the nagging voice that said that Mrs. Collins was the one adult who gave a shit and wouldn’t lie. The image of Tyler’s bruised face appeared in my mind. Trusting her would mean turning my back on my brothers and I would never do that.
I needed to stick to my plan: talk to Legal Aid about pursuing custody, clean up my act at school, find a decent-paying job before graduation and prove that Carrie and Joe were unfit parents. In order to do that last one, I needed to get my hands on my file.
Echo
“It’ll work,” Noah purred.
We’d finished studying an hour ago, thanks only to my utter persistence. I sat on his lap in the passenger side of Aires’ car while Isaiah slaved over the open hood. Noah explained his new plan for getting into our files while driving my body to the brink of explosion with caresses and kisses. The asinine plot had plenty of holes, but his seduction fogged my mind and kept me from voicing my opinion, until now.
“You honestly believe that Mrs. Collins is going to fall for it?” I asked. “First off, she’ll probably tell you to wait or she’ll get it for you Wednesday or she’ll see right through you and know we’re up to something.”
“She wants nothing more than for me to go to college and if I tell her I’m going to take the ACT she’ll shit her pants. She’s been dying for me to apply for late registration.”
Noah trailed kisses down my neck, interfering with my decision-making skills. I opened the door and slid out of the car. March had roared in like a lion, bringing severe but warm weather. I stood close enough to the edge of the open garage door that a few warm raindrops hit my shoes. Noah didn’t crowd me with his body, like he normally would. Instead, he leaned against the garage door frame, away from me.
We’d failed at our latest attempt last week to get into our files. Our high failure rate only pushed us harder to succeed. Every now and then, I wondered if the only reason we were together was because of our joint goal of stealing those files. At times, it was the only thing we talked about, but then I’d see the warmth in his brown eyes and I’d know—he cared.
“If this works, which I’m not saying it will, I think you should go for your file first,” I said. “I’m sorry the last name didn’t help.” He’d tried every avenue available—phone books, Google, Facebook—and had found nothing on Jacob and Tyler’s foster parents.
“No. I saw your dad and Mrs. Collins speaking privately this morning. Something’s going down and we need to figure out what.” Noah stared out into the rain, looking more like a Calvin Klein underwear model than a down-and-out foster kid. “Besides, I think we’ll have a good crack at both files since you’ll be doing hypnosis on Thursday. When I lure Mrs. Collins out tomorrow, you take a crack at yours then I’ll take a crack at mine on Thursday.”
“It’s not hypnosis. Its relaxation therapy and I haven’t agreed to it yet.”
“It’s perfect. You and Mrs. Collins will be in the sickroom and the office staff will be gone for the day. Besides, you said last week that Mrs. Collins thinks you’re on the verge of a huge breakthrough.”
The rain pounded against the roof of the garage. I glanced over to Isaiah and Beth. I hated seeing her perched on Aires’ favorite tool bench, but I liked the spark she put in Isaiah’s eye.
How odd would it be to finally put the pieces together? To understand why I kept painting the night sky over and over again. To understand why my mother had told me bedtime stories while I bled on her floor. Maybe the nightly terrors would finally end and I could sleep a full restful night for the first time in two years.
But what if it didn’t work? Mrs. Collins had said she thought my mind was ready to remember a little more—with appropriate prompting. That tidbit of information sent Ashley into a newsmagazine conversation binge about how we should try hypnotherapy again. It turned out she had already done the research, found another hypnotherapist and checked his credentials. Mrs. Collins knew the therapist so she was okay with it, yet not thrilled. Wanting to make Ashley happy, my father reluctantly agreed, and like always, I agreed by not disagreeing.
Besides, we weren’t going after the full memory. Instead, our goal was to see if I could remember some of the moments before my mom dragged me to hell.
Supposedly, this relaxation therapy would be different than the one that cracked my mind the summer after the incident. Mrs. Collins said that therapist was inexperienced and pressed too hard, too fast. Thursday, Ashley would bring in a reputable “professional.” Mrs. Collins assured me over and over again that she would be there to watch the session and that I would be safe—that my mind wouldn’t fracture again.
So far, she’d been right about most things, but … I whispered so no one else could hear, “What if my dad’s right? What if my mind can’t handle the truth?”
“Baby, you’ve got enough strength and tenacity to take down drug dealers. You’ll be fine.”
I wished I had Noah’s confidence and faith in me. Nothing ever shook him and for some reason, he thought I could climb mountains then juggle them. Someday, he was going to be very disappointed when he saw me for who I really was—a weak, pathetic person.
“Where’s your dad?” Noah asked. “He’s usually home by now.” Ever since my dad figured out that Noah and Isaiah spent every Monday afternoon in our garage, he made it a point to be home from work as soon as humanly possible. He may have accepted Noah as my boyfriend, but he didn’t like said boyfriend being alone with me.
My foot tapped nervously. Dad’s strange behavior had taken a turn onto Bizarre Boulevard. “The Neon didn’t make it through detailing. He’s picking up my new used car today.”
I’d loved that car. Aires and I car shopped for weeks, trying to find the right combination of deal and longevity. When I finally bought it, we picked up Mom to celebrate with a trip to Dairy Queen for chocolate malts. Good thing Isaiah had promised to fix Aires’ car. Otherwise, I would have curled into a ball and cried over another loss of Aires … and my mom.
I caught Beth sending me a death glare while listening to my and Noah’s conversation. We talked openly in front of her and Isaiah, but we never flat-out mentioned my issues. Noah considered them family and trusted them. I trusted Noah and liked Isaiah. I tolerated Beth.
“Gym was interesting today.” Beth lips turned up into the devil’s grin. Very rarely did she speak directly to me. Noah’s pterodactyls began feeding on my stomach lining.
“Really?” I asked, meaning, please go back to ignoring me.
“I got to listen to your little cheerleader friend, Grace, make fun of you. I have to say, it’s the first time she ever said anything to make me laugh.”
Beth’s words confirmed what I already knew in my heart: that publicly dating Noah had pushed Grace over the edge and destroyed the fragile remains of our friendship. If Beth meant to gut me open like a fish, then she’d succeeded. My stomach hurt like the night Luke rammed into me.
Noah pushed off the frame and stalked toward Beth. “Son of a bitch, Beth. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“With me? You’re the one hanging with Ms. Crazy.” Beth jumped off the tool bench, accidentally hitting a glass full of washers. It rolled toward the edge of the bench.
“Beth, grab it!” I yelled.
She reached out, but her fingers clutched air as it rolled off the edge and shattered on the floor. The sound of glass shattering vibrated in my head. Images flickered and the black hole in my brain grew and rotated. A fuzzy picture forced its way forward as hammers pounded sharp nails into my skull.
I lay on the beige carpet of my mother’s living room floor. Colored glass surrounded me, and blood. Lots and lots of blood. Pain sliced and seared my arms. I flipped to escape it, only to scream in agony as something sharp slashed my back.
My eyes fixed on the front door. I had to get there. I had to make it outside. Ignore the pain. Fight through the fear. I rolled to my side, crying out as glass dug into my knees and arms. Glass crunched under my weight. Every large chunk embedded in my muscles sliced like hot coals and every tiny shard knifed its edges into my skin. I crawled my way forward. Exhaustion weighed every movement, my mind unclear and my stomach uneasy. Oh, God, where was he? He said he was coming. Oh, God, please, Daddy, please come.
“Echo!”
I blinked rapidly to find myself crouched on the floor of the garage with my hands grasping my head. My heart thundered and every part of my body shook.
Noah sank beside me, eyes wide, face full of shock. He tucked my hair behind my ear and spoke in a low, soothing tone. “Baby, what happened? Are you in pain? Are you dizzy?”
My eyes darted around, sensing danger. Isaiah and Beth gave me the crazy stare. Noah framed my face with his hands, returning my attention to him. “Please, baby.”
I swallowed in an attempt to help my dry mouth. “Stained glass. That was my mom’s newest project.”
Understanding warmed his eyes. “You remembered something.”
Lightning flashed and crackled in the sky. My muscles jumped past my skin. Noah drew me closer to him. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
The back of my neck burned and my teeth chattered with my shaking body. I sniffed to keep away the tears. If I felt like this when I remembered a flash, what would happen if I remembered the whole thing? Would I break?
Hot tears pooled at the edge of my eyes and I swiped at them with the back of my sleeve. “I’m tired of having nightmares.” I’m tired of wondering if I’m losing my mind.
Noah stroked my hair and his hold on me tightened. “We’ll figure this out, Echo. I swear we’ll figure it out.”
NOAH
“I wish I could sleep with you,” Echo’s sexy-as-hell drowsy voice mumbled through the phone.
“Say the word, baby, and I’ll rock your world.” I’d gotten in from work a little after midnight and decided to give Echo a call. I sat on the dryer, giving Beth and Isaiah the private time they both claimed they didn’t need. Isaiah pretended their make-out session never happened and Beth did the same. The good news was, Beth didn’t bolt to her mom’s or let some other guy use her. The bad news was, Isaiah hurt like hell. For the moment, I tried to forget my best friends’ problems and focused on remembering Echo’s delicious Cinnabon smell instead of the basement’s damp, musty stench.
My little nymph’s laughter filled my soul. “You’re so bad. I’m talking about sleep. Like real sleep. Not sex.”
“We don’t need to have sex. There are other things I can do to help you sleep.”
“You’re impossible,” she said over the rustle of sheets. “You make me feel safe, Noah. Maybe if I felt safe I could sleep.”