Paranormal Realities Box Set (45 page)

"No," she said, taking the
other garments out of the locker and holding them hostage. "Get back into
that bed and rest."

Holding her shoulders, I locked eyes with
her. "Gran. If you stop me and Liam dies, I'll never get over it. I don't
think I can survive it. Don't you understand? Liam, Keagan and me. We'll all be
lost."

Gran stared at me for a few moments
before finally handing me the rest of the clothes. "Okay. I'll drive
you."

We didn't even talk to anyone, just
walking straight out. But still it seemed an eternity to get to Gran's car in
the parking lot. For once I thanked heavens Gran was a terrible driver because
even breaking every traffic law to get to the stadium didn't ease the
excruciating slowness of the trip. If she'd driven like the typical senior, I'd
have gone crazy.

Finally, the stadium lights came into
view in the distance, taunting me. So close but yet... It was almost 9 p.m. Was
the game over already? Was Liam dead? Was Keagan lost?

Marbles rolled around in my bruised
head—or it felt that way—and I lifted a hand to the bandage on my
forehead in pain as we whipped around a corner. A few of those marbles must
have slipped down into my lungs too, because I was having a hard time breathing
either from fear or from the bruised ribs.

Gran pulled up and let me out in front of
the entry and I rushed in. As I reached the outer corridor, a roaring cheer
from the stands around the field reassured me the game was still going on.
Stumbling a little, I made my way around the outer ring hallway to get to the
opposite side where I could more easily reach the visiting team. Every second
was marked by the sound of my shoes slapping against the flooring of the empty
corridor.

I passed through a wide archway and
reached the bottom of the stands. On the field the Broughton Hawks offense had
control with one player running the ball down field. Ten yards then twenty, he
ran to the happy cheers of their fans. My worried eyes went to the scoreboard.
Three minutes, forty-nine seconds left in the game.

I remembered the fateful play was at one
minute, twenty-seconds. A little time left.

My eyes searched the Hawks' bench and
found the dark hair of a familiar head. The name on the uniform, Ellsworth,
confirmed it for me: Keagan.

It might have been the way I walked with
purpose and without hesitation. It might have been the bandage on my forehead
and the crazy matted hair and bruises from the accident. For whatever reason,
no one stopped me from striding past the Hawks' cheerleaders and approaching
the bench.

Just as I reached him, Keagan, and the
rest of his benched team, rose and cheered. Their team had gotten a touchdown.
The score was twenty to fourteen now, just as in my vision.

 
"Keagan," I said, tapping him on the shoulder.
"I have to talk to you."

At my touch he started and whirled.
"Get away from me." He hit my hand away.

At the angry scowl and blazing eyes, I
gasped and stepped back.

As he took me in, his face softened.
"Tara. What happened to you?" He tentatively touched the bandage.

"Car accident. I tried to find you
last night after...anyway a cat ran out in front of my Camry."

Over his shoulder, I saw that the Hawks'
holder had mishandled the ball and the extra point kick failed. Instead of
positioning the ball for the kicker, the holder tried to recover by passing the
ball and it was intercepted. The Hawks' coach screamed and called a time out.

The clock stopped at one minute, twenty
seconds.

"Ellsworth, get that girl out of
here and come get instructions. You're going back into the game."

"Yes, Coach," Keagan yelled
back. "Tara, you have to go. We can talk after the game."

He took me by the arm and tried to walk
me off to the sidelines and toward the stands.

"No. You can't go out there. You
can't play the rest of this game. Remember what I told you about my parents. I
really did have a vision. They didn't listen to me and they died."

"What does that have to do
with—" He stopped walking and turned me to him, his hands going to
my shoulders. "Are you saying you've had a vision about this game?"

"Yes. I thought you heard me tell
Liam about it."

"No. Or if I did I didn't listen to
that part. I was too busy thinking about you and him going to the reserve. Too
busy burning up with jealousy."

"Young lady," the coach
interrupted with another shout. "Get off the field and Ellsworth get over
here."

Neither of us reacted.

"I had a vision," I said. "Liam
will die in the next play of this game and you...you're involved."

He stared off beyond me, unseeing, lost
in his thoughts. "That's what you and your grandmother were talking about
last night. That's what you meant. Why you asked me out. You wanted to save
Liam."

"Yes." I shook him a little to
bring his attention back to me. "Of course. I don't want Liam to die. I
can't deny I care about him. But I also don't want you to feel responsible for
his death. I don't want that for you. I love you."

"Ellsworth," The coach shouted.
"Ten seconds to the end of the time out. Get out onto the field."

Cupping his cheek with my palm, I put
everything I had into the plea. "I know it's insane. I know you think
people don't have visions, but please Keagan. Just trust me. Please. If you
ever cared about me at all. Please. Don't go back into the game."

One beat and then two passed as if an
eternity. Then, without looking away from me, Keagan shouted over his shoulder.
"I'm not playing the rest of the game, Coach."

"What?" The coach screeched.
"We can win this thing and you're quitting? Are you crazy?"

When Keagan didn't answer, the coach
marched over to us, an obscenity-laced tirade coming from under his breath. He
grabbed Keagan by the shoulder and pulled him away from me. "If you don't
play the rest of this game you're off the team."

"Okay," Keagan said, nodding.
"I'm off the team."

More obscenities poured from the coach as
he returned to the sidelines and barked orders at the other players. I briefly
had a glimpse of Liam running onto the field as I threw myself against Keagan
and wrapped him in the tightest hug I could manage.

"Oof," I groaned at the pain,
but didn't let go.

"Your injuries," Keagan said,
trying to pull back.

I just held him tighter and buried my
face in his chest. "I'm okay." My muffled words were barely audible
over the din of the crowd. Apparently, a big play had occurred. "I'm more
than okay. I'm wonderful. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

How long we stood like that, with arms
wrapped around each other, I don't know. An impression of the edge of his
shoulder pads was etching itself into my cheek and I didn't care. The hug
didn't end until someone ripped Keagan away from me.

I looked up to see Liam, his face
contorted in a fury like I'd never seen from him before.

"What the hell is going on?" He
threw his helmet down and it spiked once off the ground before tumbling to a
stop. Liam's hand bunched into a fist. He pulled it back and threw a haymaker
into his brother's chin. Keagan didn't defend himself. He just went down.

"Stop it." Screaming I knelt
beside Keagan, looking up at Liam. "Just stop."

"I should hit you too," Liam
said, puffing with exertion and anger.

"Look, dude," Keagan said.
"This has all been a mistake. Tara thought she was saving your sorry ass
because of her premonition. She didn't want to go out with me. It's you she
loves."

"That vision stuff again?" Liam
yelled.

"No," I contradicted him.
"I mean yes. I did have a vision that you'd die in this game during a play
where Keagan was on the defensive line. I did want to save your life, Liam.
Whether you believe it or not, I had a vision."

"So you went out with him because
you thought you were helping me?"

"Yes."

Liam's breath began to calm and his features
untwisted. As he stared at me his anger drained away into wariness. He held out
a hand to me and helped me up.

At his touch, the vision of Liam dying at
an old age in a hospital bed came to me. Happiness filled me. I'd done it. I'd
saved him. But my happiness must have invaded my expression and encouraged
Liam.

"I'll forget about you and Keagan
and we'll start over," he said.

"No." I shook my head and
pulled out of his hold. "We can't go back because I've realized I love you
like a brother. It's Keagan I'm
in love
with."

"Tara?" Keagan leaped up off
the ground. He turned me to him and searched my face with his eyes. "Do
you mean it?"

I gave a smile and a shrug. "Yes.
That's what I've been trying to tell you but couldn't say with all this other
stuff going on."

"So you lied to me last night when
you said you weren't into him," Liam said.

"Yes. But not intentionally. I did
it because I was lying to myself about my feelings. Hurting you was the last
thing I wanted. But I can't help loving Keagan."

A red fury returned to Liam and crept up
his neck and into his cheeks. Liam snatched his helmet from the ground.
"I'll never forgive you for this."

The way he looked at me, as if I were the
dirtiest piece of trash in the landfill, made me want to hunch over with pain,
but I forced myself to straighten. Better he live hating me than die loving me.

"I'll never forgive either of
you." With that he turned and marched back across the field.

"He'll be fine," I said, trying
to convince myself as well as Keagan. Liam would live to an old age and I had
to be satisfied with that.

"I need you more than he does."
Keagan's arms came around my midsection to embrace me from the back.

As his arms wound around me, I saw again
his death in the park. The same scene as before played itself out in my head,
complete with the old man clutching his chest and the woman's startled cry. But
this time I realized something new: the woman was me.

I twisted in his arms as he leaned down
to brush his mouth against mine with a kiss. An electric spark sizzled from my
lips to my toes. I was out on a limb without a safety net. But that was finally
okay. Life wasn't meant to be safe.

"I need you." Keagan nuzzled my
neck.

"Yeah." With deliberation I
made my tone teasing. "And don't you forget it."

"Oh I won't." He gave my neck a
nip— something between a bite and a kiss. "And I won't let you
forget I love you."

As emotion filled my heart and sensations
coursed through my body, I choked out, "Love is all I can ask."

# # #

Copyright 2012

Patricia Mason writing as P.R. Mason

"Let's go behind the bleachers and
do the nasty, Eve." Hot breath tinged with spittle sprayed against my neck
as Quinn shouted in my ear to be heard over the booming throb of the music.

My date was ruining the song—one of
my favorites by Kanye.

Quinn sidled closer, pulling at the open
collar of his white dress shirt as if to give me a view of the expanse of his
hairy chest. He pressed against my side, making me cringe. Inching backward, my
spine met the cold concrete block of the gym wall.

Almost the entire high school might be
here at the Fall Fling dance, but it wasn't so crowded that he needed to invade
my personal space. Bad enough the perennial dirty-sock smell of the gym
threatened to overcome me, but Quinn and his liberally applied cologne made me
want to gag.

Oh why had I agreed to go on this date?
Just because Lashonda pushed me?

 
"He's popular," she'd said. "And your school
rep could use a infusion of
popular.
"

A small bit of help with my social
standing at Richard Johnson Academy— known to students as Double
Dick—now didn't seem any kind of inducement. Heck, being voted home
coming queen wouldn't be worth this horrid date.

"Come on, Eve. I'll play Adam,"
Quinn said with a chuckle. "Get it? You're Eve and I'm Adam? Adam and
Eve?"

"Yeah," I drawled.
"Hilarious. I've never heard that one before."

He hooted a laugh, grabbed my upper arm
and tried to pull me into an embrace. In response, I twisted out of his grasp.

"Back off, buddy."

"Okay," Quinn said. "You
don't wanna do the full tilt boogie. We can just go make-out a little. We gotta
capitalize on this sitch, ya know? No one'll notice if we sneak away." He
paused for effect before continuing. "I'll even let you touch it."

Eww. That was supposed to be an
enticement?

Before I could even flinch, Quinn's hand
shot toward me and he molested my breast.