Whispering Minds (13 page)

Travis held my wrist with one hand and turned my face toward his with the other, checking out the bruise under my eye. “What else happened?”

“Nothing…I…I don’t know.”

“Did he hurt you? Because if he did, that son of a bitch is dead.”

A sob hitched in my throat at his over-protectiveness. He didn’t hate me.

As if to prove my thoughts, he stroked my cheek with his thumb. “Close your eyes and tell me what you see.”

I snatched at a memory. “I was bleeding everywhere.”

Not too much detail,
Fell directed in a stern voice.

“The doctor stitched me up and sent me home.”

Good.

“It was snowing. Lots of snow and…”

And nothing. You can’t tell him.

I can’t tell what I don’t know, Fell.

She has to. If she’s going to tell anyone it has to be her Indian.
Rae spoke up for me. Finally somebody understood.

“…we…”

He’s exactly the wrong person to tell,
Fell protested.

Rae disagreed.
He can help. Besides, it’s time for her to know.

“And what?” Trav’s thumb soothed the ache in my temple, and I sank down in front of him.

If she doesn’t say something soon he’ll think she’s crazy.
Rae’s presence gave me strength. I struggled against the emptiness of my mind and saw a foggy outline of a memory.

“I think…a car…another car.”

Fine,
Fell relented.
Give her something small.

“We smashed into a truck.” My eyes popped open in triumph. “I must have hit my head.”

Travis ran his fingers across my scalp until he found the goose egg. “What else?”

“That’s it.” I wasn’t crazy after all.

“Was he drinking?”

I pulled back. “Of course not. I’d never drive with someone who’d been drinking.

His eyebrow arched in disbelief. “You’re sure?”

“Almost. Yes. I mean no. He wasn’t drinking.”

If she wants the truth, give it to her.
Fell.

“Gem?”

I nodded, small enough that I wasn’t even sure I did.

Travis spit a curse into the air between us, and broke the connection. I tensed, knowing the next question before he even asked. “Were you?”

“I don’t drink.”

“But you’re sure he drove you home after the blizzard?”

It was the only thing I knew for certain. “Yes. The roads were slick, but we could see.”

Travis pushed me away. “Stop lying.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I shook my head, unprepared for his next words. “The blizzard ended yesterday. On Friday. Today is Saturday.”

Somewhere I had lost two days.

I leaned over and vomited in the trash.

Chapter 17

Rae sifted through photos—a tedious process, to be sure, but one she loved.

She sorted and stacked them into piles, shuffled and sorted again. Each snapshot had a clear and distinct memory attached to it. Some pictures were worn, a testament to Rae’s adoration and gentle fingering over the years. These, she tucked into a box and hid away. They were too precious to share.

Some were dirty and hurtful. As much as she wanted to shred them, she knew that knowledge was crucial. But not now. Now, she turned them upside down in a pile all their own. Forgotten.

She continued to sift, sort and stack. Shuffling and reshuffling until she felt comfortable with the final product. These she left on the desk, and returned to her knitting.

* * *

Travis remained wary. Not that I could blame him. Now would be the perfect time to tell him that my memory lapse started long before the bump on my head. But somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. Instead, I’d gone upstairs to get my bags so I could leave this house once and for all.

“What exactly are you running from, Gemi?”

“At Granny’s you asked what I was going to do. I told you I planned to live here, saving money and biding my time. I can’t do that anymore.”

He leaned against the door jamb, his dress clothes confirming the date. Saturday. Christmas Eve. “Why the change of mind?”

I pointed to the light switch. “Turn it on.”

He tried. When nothing happened, he gave me a funny look that dawned into understanding. “That’s right. Your electricity is off.”

“And the phone. I had to call you from Old Man Parson’s house. Which, I might add, sucked. He eavesdropped the whole time. He knows something’s up even if the rest of the world doesn’t. But whatever. The cable’s also out. Next will be the gas which will make the water pipes freeze. I don’t know how long it will be before that happens.”

“But that’s not your responsibility.”

“In my world, it is.” I ran my fingers through my hair, easing the mounting pressure. I couldn’t keep living a lie forever, and if I couldn’t tell him about the extent of my memory loss, I could at least tell him what he’d probably long suspected. “My parents haven’t had a job in over six months, Travis. Unemployment doesn’t cover job jumpers. Everything I make goes to keeping this house running.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I could have helped you.”

“Because it’s not your job. When Mom’s parents died, she paid off the farm. Thank God, or we would have been sleeping under a bridge a long time ago.”

“Your dream car?”

“Will never be mine. I don’t think you get how poor we are. I’m not even sure I know.”

“There’s got to be more. You wouldn’t run away from money troubles.”

I gave him a thin smile. “You don’t know what I’d run away from.”

“I know you.”

“Do you? Do you really, Travis? Because I don’t even know me anymore. I don’t know if I ever did.”

In one step, he crossed the room and took me in his arms. “I’ve spent nearly every day of the last four years with you and before that…”

I cut him off and stepped away, unable to face his raw devotion when I didn’t even like myself. “But not the nights.”

“What about the nights? Are you a vampire or a werewolf?” His attempt at humor fell flat.

My legs gave out, and I slumped onto my bed. “I just can’t stay here anymore.”

“He beats you, doesn’t he?”

The memory of me slinging plates at my dad popped into my head. Another memory wiggled free and another. Not me. And not beatings, so much as pinches, shoves, cruel remarks or one sharp slap to the back of my head in passing. “I just need to get out.”

“Then stay with me.”

“I can’t.”
Because I don’t know what I’ll do.
“I want to stay at Granny’s.”

“Talk to Grandpa Clarence first.”

“What if he calls me in as a runaway? I can’t take that chance.”

Travis sat on the bed beside me. “He won’t. But what about your parents?”

I swallowed hard. I had replayed the scenario in my mind a hundred times and still didn’t know if they would call me in. “I don’t even know if they’re coming home, and I can’t worry about it. Not now.”

“Fine. But I won’t take you to your granny’s until after Christmas.”

I relented, and we lugged my suitcase and bags of clothes to Trav’s truck. They barely fit in the cab, and I thanked my foresight in taking the rest of my books and treasure boxes to the shed for safekeeping. I’d have to come back and get those another day. Unsure of when my parents would return, I turned off the water and ran the lines clear. Our pipes had frozen before, and the mess was too much to leave for them. Not that my dad couldn’t handle it: he worked as a plumber after all—when he stayed sober long enough to trade his services for money.

Next I closed all the shades in case Old Man Parson wanted to snoop. My last stop was the office. I gathered my notebooks and checked around for any other schoolwork I might need. On my way past the bookshelves, I ran my fingers over the books that had kept me sane during the past four years. Escaping into them had been easier than dealing with my family. A thin silver spine caught my attention. I pulled
Cowboy Heroes and Legends
off the shelf.

“What’s that?”

“Just a book I used to read.”

Travis took it from me and flipped through the pages. “Looks interesting.”

“Very. I used to dream of living back then. Of having a cowboy sweep me off my feet and take me away to a ranch where we’d raise a herd of kids and a cow or two.” I felt lame admitting it out loud.

He pointed to a black-and-white photo of a man sitting atop a horse, his hat tilted to keep off the sun. “Like this one?”

“Ugh no.” I flashed Travis a grin and turned to page sixty-seven and sighed dreamily. “Like this one.”

He scratched his chin in mock concentration. “Looks an awful lot like me.”

I snatched the book away, refusing to admit he was right, and set it on the desk with my mounting pile of stuff. From behind, Travis wrapped his arms around me. His breath sent sparks of electricity all the way to my toes.

Boyfriend.

Best friend.

Love.

Lover.

Friends. Only friends.

I groaned, confused by the conflict running through me.
Why was I so chicken to love him back?

Encouraged by my groan, he nuzzled my cheek, leaving a train of small kisses along my neck. Before I could rebel or respond with affection of my own, he loosened his hold. Panic stirred at the thought of losing him. It had nearly crushed me when he didn’t answer my call. The bruises on my heart hurt more than the bruises on my body.

Despite the pulse in my temples, I turned and caught his face in my hands. “Travis…I…”

My words got lost as our lips met. A tremor shot through me, and I held on tighter, pressing my body against his, needing the heat to melt the last of my hesitation. My hands found their way along his back, and I pulled him closer, feeding my newly awakened desire.

* * *

Indie reveled in the thought of finally losing her virginity. God knows, she’d tried hard enough. Booze parties, sneaking out, showing off her wares in tight shirts and short skirts. She’d wrapped herself up as a free gift and still, she’d never quite managed to get the job done.

But those boys were mere shadows of the man she now held in her arms.

She thrust her pelvis against his and trailed her hand down his arm, along his spine, dipping her fingers into his waistband, under his shirt, searing flesh against flesh.

Damn, if he wasn’t a fine specimen.

Her fingers found his zipper, struggled with his button. She moaned his name into his mouth, asked him to take her upstairs.

His hands tangled in her hair. Tousled it into the just laid look—one she’d be proud to wear. At least then, she’d finally be good for something.

* * *

I returned Trav’s kisses with a passion I didn’t know existed. Nothing had ever felt so right before, and I wasn’t willing to let go of him now. When he pulled back, I took the lead. It was no longer his hands caressing me, but rather mine that stoked the fire just under his skin. For once, the ache in my head disappeared, the voices quieted by the pounding of my own heart.

“Relax, Gemi. I’m not going anywhere.” Trav’s laugh had a husky quality that ratcheted up my desire. “Not after working so hard to get this far.”

I ran my tongue along his jawbone, tasting salty sweetness. “Don’t be such a gentleman, Travis. For once do something wild and crazy.”

With a sigh, he untangled our limbs and set me aside. “I am. I’m saying no.”

Chapter 18

Travis was quiet on the way to his house. While he never broke the physical connection between us, he was somewhere else emotionally. I worried over the events of the past few hours, wondering if I’d done something wrong. By the time we reached his house, I decided I’d made progress on the honesty front—with him and myself. From now on, I’d tell Travis everything that happened when it happened.

And I’d start keeping track of everything, just like in my dream notebook. The whole purpose behind the project had been to make us conscious of our dreams, to help us remember more vividly what went on in our heads at night. If I applied this tactic to my waking life, I should be able to figure out exactly when and why I was blacking out.

Travis helped me out of the truck and led me up the step. My stomach growled in response to the aroma seeping into the winter night. I honestly didn’t know the last time I had eaten. Thanks to Travis, I knew I’d missed nearly forty-eight hours of my life. He reasoned that the knock on my head left me wandering the house for at least a day before calling him.