Brain Storm (A Taylor Morrison Novel Book 1) (49 page)

“Inside. Now,” he ordered, dropping his arms, apparently tired of the game. Lars shoved me forward and I stumbled, barely managing to stay on my feet. He grabbed me by the arm, hoisted me back up and pushed me through the door.

Once inside, Lars drug me over to a chair propped against the far wall and I collapsed onto it as he took up station next to me.
 

“Cuff her to the chair,” Hughes ordered. “We don’t want her to run.”

I offered no resistance as Lars grabbed my right wrist and clicked the cuff tightly around it.

“Snap out of it,” he hissed in my ear as he leaned past to latch the other end of the cuff to the chair back. I looked at him, dazed. I understood what he wanted, but couldn’t seem to muster the energy to do anything. I felt dead, my arms and legs heavy, as if I was drowning, my brain fogged over in mist.

“Taylor.” It was Keith. His voice sounded like he was underwater, where he was supposed to be, instead of standing in front of me. I easily tuned it out, along with everything else, and stared at the floor, safe in the cocoon of nothingness that I’d retreated to. I was so tired of dealing with all this, and I so didn’t want to deal with him and all the things his being here meant. I didn’t even want to think about it.

The slap sent me out of the chair and onto the floor and I looked up to see Hughes, standing over me, a smile on his face as he drew back to hit me again. My right hand might have been cuffed to the chair, but there was nothing wrong with my left and I put everything behind it as I came up on my feet and caught Hughes in the throat with my fist. He went down like a sack of potatoes, gasping for air, as Lars stepped quickly between us effectively stopping either of us from doing anymore damage.
 

He grabbed the chair and sat it down hard enough to smash it and shoved me down on it, while Hughes rolled over onto his hands and knees, struggling to get to his feet. I watched him as blood dripped from my chin, my feet braced to move as soon as he came at me again.
 

As he gained his feet, I wrapped my cuffed hand around the metal frame of the chair and waited. No way was he going to hit me again.

“Enough!” Keith barked the command, stopping Hughes in his tracks. “You should have learned the first time Hughes. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go get Dr. Connors.”

Hughes threw a threatening look my way and I had no doubt that if he got the chance later, he’d finish what he’d started. I hoped he didn’t get the chance. I’d gotten in a lucky hit. He’d be ready the next time and I doubted I’d get that lucky again. I used my sleeve to wipe the blood off my face as he stormed out the door we had come through and slammed it shut in a fury.

“Get her a towel and some ice,” Keith ordered, looking at me in disgust.
 

Lars hesitated, giving me a warning look before he walked off, disappearing behind some crates.
 

“You’ve been a lot of trouble, Taylor. A lot of trouble.” He walked over to a table that was set up against a concrete column and poured himself a cup of coffee. He lifted the lid to the box of donuts and perused the contents for a few minutes, before deciding against one. “Let’s hope you’re worth it.”

I sat quietly watching him, trying to reconcile the man I knew with the one standing in front of me now. The problem was, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever really known him. I had the sinking feeling the man I thought I knew was one that had never actually existed.

Lars came back with a bag of ice and a cool wet towel. I took it and wiped my face, putting pressure on the cut Hughes had gouged along my cheekbone. My eye felt puffy and I could feel the skin tightening around it. Hughes had gotten me good, completely off guard.
 

“Guess that depends on how much they’re paying you, doesn’t it.” I removed the towel and checked to see if the bleeding had stopped. It hadn’t, but it had slowed down enough for me to put ice on it. I refolded the towel to a clean spot, filled it with ice and settled it gently in place.
 

“Ah. She finally talks. And that’s what you want to know? Your dead husband suddenly turns up and all you want to know is how much they’re paying me? Fascinating. But then you always were a little odd.” He drained his coffee and threw the cup across the room to bank it off the wall into a waste basket. So calm. So cool. So alive.

“I’d be interested in that answer myself.” I looked up to see Dr. Connors come into the room, Hughes trailing close behind him. “What is the going rate on betraying the woman you love these days?”

“Not much, Connors. The people I work for don’t put much value on love. But then again, you’re assuming that I actually ever loved her.” He looked at me as he said it, wanting to see if his barb had hit the mark. “Keep him over there, Hughes. I don’t want them too close together.”

Hughes pushed Connors down to sit on the floor as far away from me as he could get him and stay in the same general area. How Hughes was able to touch him and not feel the power emanating from him was beyond me. I could feel it now, a snapping current in the air, and I was nowhere near him.
 

“If that’s true, Keith, then why the charade?” I asked, not bothering to look at him. “Why marry me at all?” The words were so calm and detached that I could barely believe that I’d voiced them.
 

“We needed your ability to surface, Taylor. Intense emotional traumas can trigger a psychic response. What could be more traumatic than the sudden death of your husband? Unless, of course, you consider the unexpected, violent death of your parents. Such a tragedy. And at such a tender young age, too.”

 
I lowered the ice pack to look at him, the unspoken question in my eyes. He smiled back at me, slowly nodding his head, and I felt the first stirrings of anger.
 

FORTY-ONE

“WHAT YOU’RE IMPLYING is impossible, Keith. My parents were killed over 25 years ago and you’re trying to tell me you were involved in that?”
 

“You don’t understand yet, do you Taylor? I’m only a small part of a much bigger picture. They’ve been watching you for years, waiting for your talent to show itself. When it didn’t, they decided to help it along. Unfortunately, you were too young. Abilities like yours either present at an extremely early age, or they lay dormant until maturity. It was a mixed blessing really. The dormant ones are usually much more powerful, but they needed to provide you the most natural environment possible to ensure your potential.” He laughed as he said it, like it was all some big joke. “Imagine their dismay at having killed your parents only to have to find someone willing to give up their life to tend to your upbringing and keep an eye on you. Your father was an only child, Taylor. Your dear Aunt Vivian was one of ours. That’s how I know you so well, you see. I studied the reports on you that she sent in daily. Makes for some fascinating reading.”

He went over to pour himself another cup of coffee, creating a dramatic pause. If an audience was what he wanted, he’d certainly gotten his wish. The room was silent, save for the non-stop wheezing of Hughes, struggling for air. That he wasn’t quite finished was obvious. Every muscle I had, quivered in tension, waiting.

“What’s wrong Taylor? Nothing to say? You want some proof?” He smiled maliciously and I knew this was what he’d been waiting for. He pulled out a cell and flipped it open, watching me as he thumbed the speed dial. He spoke into it and snapped it shut, leaning back against the table, coffee in hand.

“Keep your eyes peeled in that direction,” he said, pointing toward the crates where Lars had disappeared earlier. “Your proof is about to walk right in.”

I looked in spite of myself, not sure of what to expect, but fearing the worst. His whole story was so preposterous, and yet, he seemed so sure. Took such delight in reciting it. We waited in silence. In the distance I heard the echo of a door closing and felt my heart rate speed with each second of the clock.
 

And then there she was. Walking out from behind the crates as if it was yesterday. My breath caught and my hands began to tremble as she walked into the room. Aunt Vivian. The woman who raised me after my parents were killed. The woman I’d buried nearly 10 years ago.
 

“Looks like the night for miracles. First your husband, then your Aunt. Wonder who’ll show up next.” Keith chuckled, as Vivian walked over to join him and poured herself a cup of coffee.
 

“Don’t get your hopes up, Taylor,” she said as she lifted the cup to her lips, blowing to cool the hot brew. “I’m afraid your parents won’t be joining us.”

Anger surged, slipping through me like flames, reaching out into the warehouse, shaking the metal doors and shifting the crates in their stacks before I pulled it back inside me.
 

“So, Marcus was right,” Keith whispered, a smug if satisfied smile across his face. “It’s there, just under the surface. Waiting.”

“Yes, he was. Good to know he was right about something,” Vivian agreed as she came over to look at me like I was a specimen in the jar. “Make sure you keep her under control. Drug her if necessary, but I don’t want any trouble. I’ll tell them to get the plane ready.”

She dismissed me with a look and walked out of the room, leaving me shaken to the core. Keith had been telling the truth about Vivian. If the rest of what he had said was true, I’d been manipulated by these people for most of my life and I had a bad feeling I’d just let them manipulate me again. They’d wanted to see if Marcus was right, whether my ability had indeed surfaced. Keith had been pushing my buttons all evening and the battle with Hughes? I’d answered his attack with my fist, instead of with my mind. They’d finally brought in the big guns with Vivian, trying to push me to the edge, so I’d lose control and confirm what Marcus had told them, and I’d handed it to them on a silver platter. How much of what Keith claimed was true, I had no way of knowing, but the fact that Vivian was alive and well, was a shock. That she seemed to be higher in the pecking order than Keith, an even bigger one.
 

“Here’s how it’s going to be, Taylor,” he talked to me, but I noticed he kept his distance. “You cause anymore trouble and Hughes here, is going to take it out on Dr. Connors.”

Maybe the shock was wearing off or I’d been hit so many times, I was becoming immune to it, but my brain was at least starting to function again. If I didn’t pull it together, people were going to get killed. People I cared about.
 

“Taylor!” Keith shouted angrily, causing me to flinch. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

He’d never raised his voice to me, the entire time I’d known him, let alone yell at me. He was yelling at me now and the effect, I could guarantee, was not the one he was going for. This was not the man I’d married, the man I loved. That man was indeed dead, if he’d ever really existed at all.
 

This was my enemy. I had been running from that fact since I first saw him, but now it took hold in my brain with undeniable resolve. This man thought he had control over me, but he was wrong. He had no idea what power I held. How strong I was. I had forgotten that, in my initial shock, but I sure remembered it now. I looked over at Hughes and Connors, and decided I was done being manipulated.
 

 
“What makes you think I care?” I answered him, keeping my voice one of defeat and despair. “For all I know, he works for you. How do I know he isn’t just another Dr. Brown?”
 

The exhaustion I was feeling from being on an emotional roller coaster most of the night, lent credence to my words and I saw a flicker of doubt in his face before he turned to Hughes in question.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hughes croaked out, barely able to talk. “You think Brown worked for us?”

“No. I
know
he worked for you. You used him against me. How do I know you’re not using Connors the same way?” I glared at him, putting all the anger and hatred I felt for him into my words. He flicked his eyes quickly to Keith and I caught a brief glimpse of fear cross his features.
Keith didn’t know about Brown.
In an instant, everything changed, the pieces falling into place. Hughes had double crossed them and Brown had been in on it with him. I still didn’t know who all the players were, but now I knew some of them were playing for a different team. Brown had been with the other team, or at least he had been, until Hughes had killed Abby. That had been a game changer.
 

 
I didn’t know what Brown had been planning on doing with me, but whatever it was, it didn’t involve Hughes. I glanced over, catching Connors’ eye as my mind scrambled on how best to use my new found knowledge.

Hughes recovered quickly and simply shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head like I was some sort of nutcase, when Keith looked over at him. He was good. I had to give him that. If I hadn’t been looking at him at just the right moment, I wouldn’t have seen that instant of unguarded fear and caught on to him. He was right to shrug me off. There was no way for me to prove Brown had been working for him or that he was double crossing Keith and Vivian. It was his word against mine and I was so desperate, I’d probably say anything.

I looked over at Hughes and he smirked at me, his confidence back in full force and there I was, bloodied, defeated and chained to a chair. If I were in Keith’s shoes, I wouldn’t believe me either and it was, in all probability, going to get him killed. There was no way Hughes could let me leave with Keith and Vivian. Not if he was selling me off to another group. He’d have to make a move tonight, before we got on that plane. Why I would even care that my dead husband, whom I now pretty much hated with every fiber of my being, would probably be dead before the night was out was beyond me. I hung my head and started chuckling at the absurdity of it all.