Read The Healer: First Touch Online

Authors: Amy Clapp

Tags: #Fiction

The Healer: First Touch (16 page)

BOOK: The Healer: First Touch
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Varick reached for me, his legs balancing the bike beneath him.

His blue eyes were bright, sparkling with anticipation as he yelled at me over the whine of the cycle, "Jacey, I'm here!"

Without hesitation, I grabbed his outstretched hand. As he pushed the throttle, the cycle spun. At the same time, he pulled me, hoisting me on the back of the cycle behind him.

"Hold on," I heard, as I squeezed my legs around the cycle, wrapping my arms around Varick's waist. As the motorcycle screamed down the road, I buried my face in the back of Varick's leather jacket, savoring the thick smell, and soft skin. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the image of the strange boy. I was too afraid to check if he was behind us, watching us speed away. A roar of protest could be heard over the scream of the cycle. I shuddered at the sound.

"Varick, what was that?" I spoke loudly to be heard over the motorcycle.

Varick kept his head forward, his body bent low over the cycle. He answered calmly, his voice flat in my ear. "The Fury."

"Oh," was all I could manage to squeak out as my throat constricted with fear.

Varick didn't slow the motorcycle. He raced by farms over the hilly roadway. He sped through town, disregarding traffic signals, weaving around much slower vehicles. I felt the bike underneath me sway and jerk as Varick gracefully maneuvered. I tried to relax my body, to allow it to move with the motorcycle. I tightened my arms around Varick's waist, desperately clutching fistfuls of leather. I peeked out from the safety of his back to see the white picket fences of my street flash by us. Oma's house flew by and Varick made no attempt to slow or stop.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to remain calm and in control of my emotions. "What about Oma?" I yelled. I tried to keep my head down, buried in Varick's back. My long hair whipped around me, not restrained by a hair tie or helmet.

"Oma's safe. The Fury doesn't want Oma."

The Fury wants me.
I didn't say it out loud. But the words quickly unraveled the ties binding my emotions intact. The ensuing panic overwhelmed me, flooding over me like waves in a storm. The panic threatened to pull me down and suck me in. My breathing came in fast, shallow pants as fear consumed me.

"Varick," I cried.

"It's okay, Jacey. I'm right here. I will protect you. Trust me." His voice was calm, slow, soothing, even as the cycle screamed out of town and onto a less traveled rural route. As he spoke, a warm, calming sensation flowed over. It seemed to hold me, protect me, fasten me closer to the bike and to Varick. The panic and fear dissipated as quickly as it came. I breathed easier.

I peeked out again from Varick's back to see dark trees speeding past us. It was getting dark. The sun had long since set. I was unfamiliar with the dark, thick forest around us.

"Where are we going?" I said as loud as I could.

"My place. Where it's safe."

Safe. I already felt safe. Even though I was sitting on the back of a crotch rocket speeding down a rural country road without a helmet, I had never felt safer in my entire life. I squeezed my arms tighter around Varick's waist, burying my face into the soft leather of his back again, grateful for my Protector.

-Fourteen-

The whine of the motorcycle lessened as we slowed. I felt Varick turn onto an unpaved roadway. The motorcycle jumped and skidded on the gravel road. I opened my eyes, again peeking from Varick's back. Dark trees surrounded us, the only light coming from the headlight of Varick's motorcycle. I knew we were driving on a rarely traveled roadway through a forest, but I was unfamiliar with the location. Varick never took his eyes off the road.

I stole a glance behind me. I half expected the Fury to be there, chasing after us, those yellow eyes glowing in the dark. But it wasn't there. We were alone, the cycle kicking up dust in the red glow of the brake light. My heart was still hammering in my chest with the fear and excitement from the chase and Varick's sudden rescue. Varick. He was there when I needed him. I had felt instant relief when I saw the black tattoo. I knew I would be safe when Varick's blue eyes met mine through the opening in his helmet. I squeezed my arms tighter around his waist, grateful for his protection.

"Everything alright?" Varick asked, obviously responding to my squeeze of his midsection.

"Yes," I answered loudly. The sound of my own voice startled me. "How much farther?" But Varick didn't answer. The forest had closed in on the road, the gravel in front of us changing into a dirt track.

Then I saw a couple of lights glowing in the darkness ahead and squinted to identify them. I could make out a small structure ahead of us. It looked like a little house. Varick pulled around to the side of the house, the cycle leaning heavily to the right. I squeezed the bike and Varick tighter so I wouldn't tumble off the side. Varick brought the cycle to a stop, the machine rocking forward abruptly.

We got off the motorcycle, and Varick turned to face me. He ran his hands through his wavy hair until it stuck up around his head. His blue eyes met mine and my breath caught in my throat. I would never get used to the intensity of those eyes. He smiled, his eyes twinkling in the glow of the lanterns hanging from wrought iron poles on either side of the house's entry door. My stomach fluttered at the sight of his smile. I nervously returned a smile to him.

I began to shiver, my teeth chattering in the cool evening air. I wrapped my arms over my chest, hugging myself.

"You're cold." It wasn't a question.

I nodded. It was cooler, deep in the forest, but I didn't know if I was shivering because of the cold or because of my nerves.

Varick extended his hand. I stared at it, my heart pounding harder and faster in my chest. "Come on, let's get you inside and warmed up."

Hesitantly, I placed my hand in his. He wrapped his fingers around my hand, enclosing it with his own. The same electricity I had felt earlier at his touch I felt again. The prickly sensation shot up my arm and across my chest causing goose bumps to spring up over my arms.

"Come on," Varick laughed, turning towards the front door of the little wooden house.

I took a good look at the house, Varick's home, while he opened the door. It was a small log home nestled amid old hard-wood trees and small pine trees. Two small windows faced the forest with a wooden door between them. A small covered porch covered one window and the door. In the glow of the lantern light, I could make out two wooden chairs on the porch under the window and a small wooden table between them.

Varick opened the door, and we stepped into darkness.

"Wait here," Varick directed, letting go of my hand. He left me in the entryway of the little log home. A spark of fire lit from a match illuminated Varick's hand and he lit a lantern sitting in the middle of a wood table next to the door. As Varick adjusted the wick, the soft glow of candlelight warmed the room, throwing light off the walls.

Varick lit another match and walked over to the stone fireplace. Soft candlelight soon glowed from the candles on the stone mantle. With all the flickering candlelight, the little log home became cozy and welcoming. I took another step inside, closing the wooden door behind me.

"Come in and have a seat." Varick motioned toward the overstuffed couch across from the fireplace. The couch looked comfortable with big cushions and a brown afghan draped over the center. The multi-colored patterned cushions were very worn. Sitting opposite the couch were two chairs. One was a wooden rocking chair, another brown afghan draped over the chair back. Next to that was a larger chair, overstuffed like the couch. A small wrought iron table separated the chairs.

Sounds of metal banging and scraping brought my attention back to Varick. He had taken two pots out of a cabinet and placed them on a white stove next to the porcelain sink in the kitchen.

"I bet you're hungry, aren't you?"

My stomach growled in response. I placed my hands on my stomach in a futile attempt to silence the rumblings.

Varick laughed softly. "Thought so."

Varick filled a pot with water and placed it back on the stove, first lighting the propane burner with another match. I stood in the little entry just inside the door, staring at Varick, too nervous to move.

Varick turned to look at me. "Go ahead and have a look around. It's alright." He was still grinning. Varick turned back to the counter and to the vegetables he was chopping.

I glanced around the room again. It was a single room, kitchen, dining area, and living room all together. From the entry where I stood, the large stone fireplace was on the right wall, the chairs on the left of it and the couch to the right. Both were angled towards the fireplace. Directly to my left was a wooden table with two stools pushed underneath it. And just past the table was the kitchen and Varick. Cupboards lined the walls and there was a window directly in the middle of the wall with the porcelain sink below it. I noticed that the kitchen had a stove, but no refrigerator and no microwave.
Curious?
Directly in front of me on the opposite side of the room was a closed wooden door. Next to it was a deep red curtain, blocking off a small portion of the living room.

I stared at the door and the curtain wondering what was on the other side. I glanced at Varick in the kitchen. He had stopped chopping vegetables and stood staring back at me, his blue eyes glittering in the soft candlelight. Placing his hands on his hips, he said, "Go ahead. Have a peek." He smiled again and nodded toward the door and curtain.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped tentatively across the room as if I was testing the durability of the wood floor. Varick chuckled again.

I reached the door and opened it slowly. The candlelight from the bigger room poured in allowing me to identify a large claw footed tub, small pedestal sink and toilet. I closed the door. "Bathroom."

Varick watched me with amused eyes. "Yes."

I opened the thick curtain with more energy, no longer nervous about what I would find. On the other side was a full size bed, a multi-colored quilt neatly covering it. A small four drawer wooden dresser sat up against the curtain at the far end of the small space. Books, large and small, hard covered and soft, were scattered on the bed, on top of the dresser and all over the floor. There was another lantern on a wooden nightstand next to the bed. I walked closer to the nightstand, careful not to step on the books on the floor and reached for the matches to light the lantern. A warm flame sparked. Very carefully, I lifted the glass hurricane with one hand and lit the kerosene soaked wick with the other. Candlelight filled the tiny space.

This was Varick's bedroom, or what passed for a bedroom. The thick curtain that had been suspended from the low ceiling separated his sleeping area from the otherwise open room. On the nightstand and surrounding the lantern were small pictures enclosed in a variety of metal frames. The frames were nestled amongst the many books on the nightstand. I picked up one of the books. It was a hard-cover, navy blue and worn as if it had been read many times. Silver words shone on the cover. I tilted it so the light from the lantern illuminated the title.
Catcher in the Rye
. I glanced back at Varick. His back was facing me. He was placing vegetables into the pot to boil, stirring with his left hand.

I looked back at the nightstand, gently placing the book on top of another one. I bent down to peer closer at the small frames, curious to see the pictures that would grace Varick's bedroom. A smile spread across my lips when I saw pictures of a small child, chubby cheeks flushed with excitement, brown hair pulled back into pigtails. I peered at another to see a baby, obviously celebrating a first birthday, her face covered with chocolate cake and white frosting. I glanced at the rest of the pictures, all of varying ages of a brown-haired girl. The same-brown haired girl. I gasped and covered my mouth, startled to recognize the girl in the pictures.

"Yes. They are you. All of them. You." Varick's voice was low and soft, whispering in my ear.

I turned to face him, my hand still covering my mouth, my eyes wide with shock.

Varick stood close to me now, where he could have touched me if he wanted. But he didn't. He just stared at me, his eyes searching my own. "I already told you, Jacey. I've been watching you, protecting you, since your birth."

Slowly, I dropped my hand from my mouth. Swallowing hard, I managed to find my voice. "But, how?" My hand weakly waved towards the pictures on the nightstand.

Varick crossed his arms in front of him, giving me lop-sided grin again. His eyes glowed with amusement.

Shaking my head, I closed my eyes and turned back toward the nightstand and the pictures of me. "Never mind," I weakly stated, my voice trailing at the end.

"Are you alright?" Varick asked quietly.

I bit my lip, trying hard to control the emotions washing over me. I knew I should have felt scared, threatened by all the pictures, by the fact that he had been watching me all this time without my knowledge or consent. I knew some would call him obsessive and label his behavior stalking. But I didn't feel any of that. The only thing I felt was sadness, overwhelming sadness. I realized the books were just his way of passing time. If he wasn't watching over me, he spent the time reading. I clutched my hands together, bringing them protectively to my heart.

"Varick, I'm overwhelmed...all of this." My voice quivered with the heavy emotion that filled my heart. I turned, facing him, my vision blurring with fresh tears.

"Jacey, please don't cry," Varick's eyes became soft, pleading. His face lost the amusement, his smile disappeared. He moved his hands toward me as if to touch me, to console me, but he stopped, instead shoving his hands in his pockets. "Please don't do this to yourself. There's no need to feel sad or guilty."

Wiping the tears away, I choked out a tortured laugh. "How do you do that, know exactly how I'm feeling?"

Varick tilted his head to the side. "Because I feel what you feel. I feel your guilt, your sadness. I feel it right now."

I blinked again, astonished by his admission and the powerful connection between us.

BOOK: The Healer: First Touch
4.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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