The Forbidden Trilogy (24 page)

Sobs tore out of me. My body shook as my tears spilled onto
her lifeless face.

***

'Sam, I am so sorry to do this, but I have to. Sam, you
will get up and come with me to the car. You will move quickly.'

My mind emptied. Only a compulsion to do as the voice
commanded remained. My body moved reflexively as an unknown arm helped me up
and guided me out of the building. Distant alarms sounded, but the compulsion
was all that mattered.

I saw the guard and what was left of Dr. Pana as if looking
through murky waters.

A thread of anger uncoiled inside me. I despised him. I
despised them all. If I could burn the whole building down, I would. These
thoughts rose up like bubbles from some buried mind, but I could do nothing but
walk forward and get in the car.

We found the blue Honda where Ana said it would be. Drake
pulled the backpack out of the trunk, and we jumped in. He drove.

The compulsion disappeared, my mind cleared, and all the
memories and feelings flooded back to me. I felt violated, mentally raped.
Drake couldn't make eye contact with me, and I couldn't speak to him. My rage
wouldn't allow it.

I thought about the babies. What would happen to them? Ana
had been the only one who loved them and gave them what they needed. We had
destroyed so much tonight—so many lives, so much hope.

My arm throbbed in pain and practicality gradually took
over. I checked the bags, trying to focus. Good Ana, she'd left us a first aid
kit. I disinfected my bullet wound and wrapped it awkwardly with gauze, also
replacing the wrecked bandage Ana had put on me.

"Do you want some help with that? I can pull over
and—"

"I can do it myself!"

"Sam, I'm sorry. So sorry. But you would have died. Our
baby would have died. I couldn't let you stay there!"

I screamed, "You could have used your physical
strength! You could have carried me if you had to. You didn't need to use mind
control on me. On me!"

"There was no time. You would have fought. You were
injured. And you're pregnant! What would you have done in my situation? Huh?
Would you have let me die so I wouldn't get mad at you? Would you have held
that ethical line at the expense of my life?"

I refused to look at him or answer.

We drove in silence while I counted our cash. Drake looked
over at the money. Ana had left us several thousand dollars, at least, and that
didn't count the money I'd squirreled away in my secret box.

He finally broke the silence. "We should dump this car
and get something else. The plates are traceable."

I finally looked at the GPS. We were in Montana. I hadn't
been far off in my guesses, assuming my school was near the hospital.

We drove in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the
night, in the middle of Big Sky Country. We cruised the long, winding country
roads, the only sign of life an occasional road sign.

Drake set the GPS for his apartment in Venice, California,
but programmed it for back roads until we could get a new car.

"When and where should we get a new car? I don't see
any dealerships around." I did not want to speak to him, but logistics had
to be handled.

"As soon as possible. First we should swap the plates
with another car. That will buy us time until I can get us to a car lot."

"Fine."

It took us a while to pass anything resembling civilization,
but we finally found a parking lot full of cars outside a truck stop. I stayed
in the car while Drake made the switch. My first night of freedom and I was
already an outlaw. Great.

We kept driving.

I dozed on and off, in pain and sickened by what had
happened. Ana's dead face flashed every time I closed my eyes. We drove for
hours that first night, stopping for gas and food as infrequently as possible.
I stayed in the car, not wanting to alarm anyone with my bloody clothes.

Ten hours of driving exhausted us both. I was surprised we'd
stayed on the road so long, after the adrenaline crash from our escape. We
pulled into a small motel. I wasn't even sure where we were; everything looked
the same after so many miles.

Drake checked us in with cash from the bag.

As soon as we walked into the room, I threw my clothes into
a trash bag and jumped into the shower, scrubbing until my skin turned red and
raw. I couldn't wash away the memories, but at least I could wash away the
blood.

As I washed, Shakespeare's Macbeth ran through my mind:

Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!—One; two: why, then

'tis time to do't.—Hell is murky.—Fie, my lord, fie, a
soldier, and

afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can
call our

pow'r to accompt?—Yet who would have thought the old man
to

have had so much blood in him?

So much blood, indeed. Blood spilled for me.

Drake took a shower after me. He came out wearing the sweats
and t-shirt Ana had left him. I sat on the double bed in my own sweats and
t-shirt and looked through the backpack. The bandaging on my arm slipped. I
couldn't get it to stay.

He came over and rewrapped it. We didn't speak. I couldn't
even look him in the eyes, but the graze of his skin against mine sent shivers
through my body.

We each had clothes to sleep in, undergarments for a few
days, and one pair of pants with a few different shirts and sweaters.

I booted up the MacBook and found the memory stick, while he
counted the cash.

"Sam, this is $20,000. How could she even have this
much money?"

"They probably paid her, right? I mean, they thought
they controlled her with her kids, so why wouldn't they pay her? Or maybe she
found a way to steal from them. Even better."

I shut up, remembering that I wasn't speaking to him.

It was a lot of money, but without jobs, or IDs, or
anything, it wouldn't last long. Still, my eyes filled with tears. Ana had
given us so much, and paid for it with her life. And we'd left her there to
rot.

The baby kicked, and Drake noticed me holding my stomach.

He sat next to me and swallowed hard. "Can I feel
her?"

I nodded and put his large hand over the bump, and she gave
another good, strong kick.

He smiled and looked in my eyes. "We got out. We saved
her. And we will make it through this. Together. I'm so sorry about what I did,
Sam. I swear I'll never do that to you again, but I couldn't let you die!"

Tears rolled off my cheek and onto my shirt. He wiped one
away with his finger. I was furious with him, but why? If I could use these
powers for what I considered the greater good, why couldn't he? He probably did
save our lives. We had to get out of there, and he was right: I would have done
the same thing to him if it meant saving him and our baby.

Part of me wanted to stay angry, the part that feared the
loss of control, but I was too tired to keep fighting with the only person in
the world on my side. I leaned toward him, to put my head on his shoulder, but
hesitated. Each moment suspended itself in blown glass—so beautiful, so
fragile.

As if sensing my uncertainty, he wrapped his arms around me,
and I melted into him as though my body had been made for his.

"Don't ever do it again," I said into his t-shirt.

"I won't, I swear." He held my eyes with his. His
breath touched my face and smelled like the mint of his toothpaste.

In that moment, as if sensing my desperate need, or maybe
reflecting his own, he leaned into me.

Fire grew between us and poured through us.

The blaze reached our lips as they brushed together, gently
at first, soft and tender. Then his tongue split my lips. The taste of his
mouth, my fingers digging into his back, his hand sliding into my hair as he
pulled me closer—with the ebb and flow of this newfound passion, a craving
flared to life deep within my body, something new and forbidden. He traced a
line of kisses on my cheek.

I willed time to stop and suspend us in this moment forever,
like those blown glass memories.

It didn't feel like a first touch or first kiss, but rather
like we'd been apart for too many lifetimes and had finally found each other
again. My body recognized his intimately. We fell into each other naturally and
without hesitation.

I finally felt home. Free. Safe. Loved.

The computer beeped, reminding us we had work to do.

Drake pushed it away. "It can wait until morning. Now,
you need rest, and I need to hold you."

How could I argue when all I wanted in the world was to be
wrapped in his arms all night long?

I thought my tears had gone for good, but that night I cried
myself to sleep again. This time, my tears fell on the strong shoulders of the
man I loved. He held me all night, avoiding my injured shoulder. Words were
still too much for us after all the shock, but the contact kept me from falling
apart.

***

We woke early the next morning and looked through the
computer files, which contained compelling evidence—addresses, pictures, secret
documents. Everything we'd need to expose Rent-A-Kid.

Drake grabbed the cell phone and made a call. "Brad,
this is Drake. Call me back at this number. It's urgent. I'm in trouble."
He hung up.

Money and clothes covered our bed. I thought of Ana and....
Oh
God, I have to tell Lucy and Luke.

I didn't want to, not after everything. My head split in
half.

But we had to.

Drake agreed, and we made the link.

And I had the worst conversation of my life.

Their mother's loss shocked and saddened Lucy and Luke.
They'd lost more than just a person they'd only talked to once. They'd lost an
idea, a dream of how life might have been. They also feared for their future,
understandably so. I had to get them out and protect my baby. I didn't know
how, but I would find a way.

We dressed, packed up, and hit the road early, still worried
about being followed, or reported, or killed. Minor things.

I took the medicine Ana had left me, and told my baby to be
good and stay put for a while longer.

We drove and drove and drove, at last finding a used car
lot. We ditched Ana's car and bought the cheapest vehicle that looked like it
could go the distance. It didn't help that Drake had no ID. It did help that
this guy didn't want to report everything to Uncle Sam. They shook on a deal,
and we left with our new ride.

We aimed to get to California by that night, and head
straight to his apartment.

I leaned back in my seat and admired Drake as he drove.
"What do you think Brad will say about all this?"

"Honestly, I don't know. He's always looked for the
next great story, but really has been stuck at the newspaper equivalent of
middle management. He gets some local stuff, but nothing hard-hitting. He wants
to make his mark, but so far he's just barely making rent."

"Maybe this will be the big break he needs."

"If anyone listens. I have a feeling it won't be that
easy to bring down this organization."

Yeah, a group like this didn't cave just because some kids
showed up with a memory stick and a story. Still, someone had to listen, to see
the pieces that didn't add up and want to investigate further.

If his friend couldn't get our story out into the world,
we'd find another way. I had sketches, sensitive information on top government
officials, and no identity. That proved something, didn't it? I didn't just
make myself disappear. Someone, somewhere, would have to believe us.

Drake squeezed my hand. I turned on the radio and shuffled
through the many Christian and country music stations, settling on a Dixie
Chicks song. I sang along and tried to forget about my life for a while.

Drake glanced at me. "You have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you." I hesitated. "Drake, I know what
I want to name our baby." The thought had been percolating in the back of
my mind since the night before, but I wasn't ready to speak about it. Until
now.

"I'm pretty sure I don't need to read your mind to know
what it is."

"Ana." We said her name together. As a prayer. An
offering. A promise.

"Sam, I want you to know... I love you. I know I didn't
say it last night, but I do. I always will."

"I love you too."

Right on cue, Lonestar's "Amazed" came on.

"I WANNA SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE... WITH YOU BY MY
SIDE... FOREVER AND EVER...."

I sang, he listened, and we went to meet our future
together.

---END OF BOOK ONE---

(Book 2 of The
Forbidden Trilogy)

by

Kimberly Kinrade

The warmth of Drake's lips against mine sent butterflies
spiraling through my stomach. His strong arms tightened around me just enough
to make me feel safe without stealing all the air from my lungs. I rested my
cheek against his chest and breathed in his unique scent—part campfire, part
wind. Everything about that moment in our bed felt right... until the
butterflies in my stomach turned into angry bees bent on killing me.