ChasingShadows (12 page)

“That son of a bitch,” he growled. “Shit. Did the
tranquilizers start your telepathy?”

“No. The shock of witnessing the accident did.”

“Where did he send you?” A vein in his neck jerked in sync
with his twitching scar.

“To the Paranormal Scientific Institute of New York, where
he had me legally committed. Half the time I didn’t know who I was, for almost
a year.” Alex knew what her father had been capable of doing. However, he might
not understand about the years after she broke contact with her father.

He slid her off his lap and set her gently on the couch. She
curled her legs underneath her in a tight ball. The loss of his touch and
warmth hit her with a resounding blow. She hated deriving such comfort from him—a
temporary need that would disappear with the tides.

But would it? Did she really want it to?

He stalked the large family room, pacing back and forth, his
face as expressionless as the bare white walls. Juliana waited for him to say
something. Anything.

Finally, he said in a strained voice, “I always had a
feeling that that bastard was responsible.”

She sensed he wasn’t being completely truthful. “Did you
think otherwise?”

Alex’s darkened eyes met hers in response. Guilt wove lines
across his face. “I need a drink.”

Juliana started to rise from the couch, but Alex held up a
forestalling hand.

He left the room and returned a few minutes later with a
freshly opened bottle of wine and two fluted wineglasses. “Do me a favor and
buy some beer. This stuff puts me to sleep.”

Her eyebrows arched. “You plan on visiting often?”

Silent, he poured the wine and she took a full glass, taking
a large, courage-filled swig.

He sat rigidly in the recliner across from her. “Tell me
what happened.
All of it
.” He gripped the stem of his wineglass,
engulfing the fragile crystal in his curled hand.

Juliana drew a deep breath. “I misinterpreted my dream about
prom night, and you saw what happened.” She peered at him through the rosy liquid
in her glass. “After the accident, I freaked.

“My father decided he couldn’t stand to watch my life
deteriorate like all the other Westwood women. He thought it was the beginning
of the end for me. Had me convinced it was.” Juliana swirled the wine in the
glass and then propped it on the couch arm. “He watched his own mother go crazy
and commit suicide. His grandmother was diagnosed insane and was committed. All
the other Westwood women—all psychics—suffered similar fates.”

A tangible hush descended while Alex seemed to digest her
words as he frowned into his wineglass.

The Westwood women all possessed ESP, and none of them were
lucky at love. She saw a similar fate for herself—the biggest bane of her
existence.

“Westwood?” Alex raised an eyebrow in a questioning slant. “Why
did they all have the Westwood name? Didn’t any ever marry?”

“What does that tell you?” She threw him a tight smile. “Few
married. My father’s mother bore him out of wedlock. She knew life was better
off alone, without putting a husband through the paces of living with a
loony-tune.”

His eyes flicked over her. “You’re not crazy,” he said
softly.

“Not yet.” Her eyes misted.

“Never.”

The conviction and tenderness in his voice fired hope into
her heart. Her family heritage and a lifetime of believing the worst were hard
to overcome. She’d been on the edge of insanity several times before Dr. Miller
taught her how to control her telepathy.

She blinked back the tears in the corners of her eyes and
faced Alex again. “My father didn’t want the same to happen to me. Or if he
couldn’t stop my life from a psychic meltdown, he didn’t want to be around to
witness it. He made arrangements to send me to the Institute for observation
and training.”

Alex’s eyes blazed. Scarlet fury replaced the golden tone of
his face. “Fucking monster.”

She shrugged. “He figured he was protecting me from losing
my mind. The prom night trauma caused latent telepathic ability to surface at
the funeral. I thought I
was
going bonkers.” She coughed to clear the sadness
from her throat. “You have no clue how horrible it was to suddenly start
hearing the thoughts of everyone around me. For a while, I welcomed the drugs.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me at the funeral instead of running
away?” He couldn’t cloak the sorrow and remorse in his voice. He stood and
resumed his pacing with steps determined to beat a path through her new carpet.

“I was scared, confused, half out of it.” A tear escaped,
and she wiped the back of her hand across her face. “Your thoughts frightened
me.”
And broke my heart.
“You were angry, you blamed me for Johnny’s
death. And the hatred—”

Alex quickly knelt in front of her. He lifted her chin with
light fingers. She wanted to kiss away the agony on his face. His musk and
spice cologne smelled heavenly and warmed the places the wine didn’t reach.

“I was angry, confused, and hated what happened. But it
wasn’t directed at you.” His gaze softened. “How could you even think that?”

“You hated who I was. You were angry at me because of it.”

He released her chin and scoured his face with both hands as
if he could erase the past. “I hated the fact that you were Daniel Westwood’s
daughter. I was pissed off because you had such awesome talents, yet you
couldn’t prevent the accident. The thoughts were stupid, but they didn’t change
what I felt for you.”

Juliana circled the rim of her glass with her index finger. “Well,
that’s beside the point now.”

“Jewel, you have to believe me. I never meant to hurt you. I
was devastated, then you disappeared.” He choked, stood and continued his
stalking around the room.

“I believe you,” she said in a soft voice.

“Thanks.” His face eased, alleviating the guilt and anguish.
He exhaled a frustrated groan. “What happened next?”

“I spent a year at the Institute, a human pincushion, while
they turned me into a druggie. I was an anomaly. Research reports were produced
by the dozen.” She sipped her wine. The fruity Zinfandel tickled her nose as
she leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. “They’d never seen anyone
with the depth of psychic talents I exhibited.” She smiled wryly.

“A year went by. Dr. Brian Miller arrived and took over as
the research department director. He stopped the drugs and experiments.” Juliana
lowered her head. “He told them that
they
would drive me crazy at the
rate they were going.” She sipped her wine, swishing the pink liquid in the
glass.

“Miller obtained a court order releasing my father as
guardian, lifting the commitment papers. He and I worked to control my visions
and interpret them better. He taught me how to block telepathic thoughts.” Juliana
sighed. “He gave me my life back. I owe him so much.”

Alex halted in front of her. The disbelief in his eyes
launched waves of compassion through her. Juliana couldn’t begin to imagine
what he’d endured, wondering about her. She wished she’d had the guts to
contact him sooner, to allay his concerns, if nothing else.

She grew languid from the wine. Alex backed away and
slouched in the recliner, his face painted with incredulity.

She was glad for the distance between them; the fury and
shock rolling off him unnerved her. “My father was angry, since he loved to
control every facet of my life. But we came to an agreement. He’d pay for my
college and housing if I stayed in New York, got my degree at NYU and continued
training with Dr. Miller. After what I suffered, his offer was a gift from God.”
Her lips creased in a wan smile, her shoulders lifted in a shrug.

“Why didn’t you contact me at that point?”

Exhaling heavily, she spread her hands. “Alex, I was a
basket case. All I wanted was to concentrate on college, Dr. Miller’s therapy
and regaining my life. Another year raced by, and life got easier to manage.” Juliana
unfurled her cramped legs and leaned into the couch arm. “Then one night I
dreamt about a child being abducted. When I read about it in the paper, I
contacted the police, and that’s when I began working with them.

“I found a great job at a top financial firm on Wall Street.
By that time, my father stayed completely out of my life.” She drained the last
of her wine. The alcohol created a slow throb in her head, and she rubbed her
temples. “I was making money right and left for my clients, and assisting the
police. Before I could blink, twelve years had gone by and I received word my
father had suffered a massive coronary and was dead.”

It relieved her to know her father no longer controlled her
life. But knowing he had died without ever patching the wall between them still
hurt like a flaming arrow in her heart.

“Was I just a blip on your radar?” Alex asked with weary cynicism.
He leaned forward, snatched the wine bottle off the coffee table and topped off
his glass. He held the bottle toward her, and Juliana shook her head.

“You’ve seen up close who and what I am. Can you honestly
say you could’ve handled it, or handled me, for that matter?”

Alex glowered. “You never gave me the chance.”

“Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you.” Juliana
inhaled the mild fruity bouquet wafting from her wineglass. “I thought it best,
considering we had no future. I knew I’d only hurt you again.”

Alex scratched his scar and leaned forward, elbows on his
knees. “Why did you come back?”

Juliana noticed a flicker of movement on the patio. “My
father was gone. It was safe. And I missed California.” She set her wineglass
on the marble table and rose from the couch. “I was tired of New York. And Dr.
Miller retired last year to Oregon, so he’s closer.”

Juliana moved to the French doors, looking out into the inky
blackness. She caught a shimmer of black on black. Her cat, JB, was stalking
the little night creatures.

“Didn’t you think you might run into me?”

“Eventually.” She watched Alex’s reflection in the glass. Tugging
on her braid, she worried the thick plait between her fingers. “I wanted to
contact you, but only if you were receptive. I didn’t want to interfere with
your life. I even put together a package for you once.”

Abruptly, she sprinted past him and ran to her office. Centered
on her desk lay the sealed envelope she sought. She returned to the family room
and handed him the brown padded envelope. Curiosity whisked across his face.

“I tried to mail it a few years ago and chickened out after
the postal clerk put on the stamp.”

Alex held the envelope reverently, but didn’t lift a finger
to open it.

“It’s full of research reports and a book Dr. Miller wrote.”

“Dr. Miller again?” Jealousy narrowed Alex’s eyes.

She suppressed a smile. “He was more of a father to me than
my own.” His eyes softened at her words. “We still have phone consults as
needed. He’s been wonderful.”

“I’m glad you had someone to rely on.”

A fractured silence packed the room, and Juliana grew
uncomfortable under Alex’s steady gaze.

He drained his second glass of wine and set the crystal
flute on the end table. Tipping his head back, he closed his eyes. “I could
have helped you.”

“No, you couldn’t, Alex.” She slipped to the floor at his
feet. As soon as she propped her chin on his knee, his hand slipped under her
braid. He stroked her neck tenderly.

His touch comforted her. Unsettled her. She didn’t want his
fingers to stop the dance upon her skin.

“How would you feel being around someone who could read your
every thought? Or how would you feel about living with someone who could freak
out on you one day?” She lifted her eyes to his face. “I couldn’t put you
through it. There’s no future for us.” She whispered the last words.

An awkward silence swathed them as the night wore on. Her
muscles relaxed from the wine, from Alex’s closeness. The caresses on her neck
stilled and his hand rested on her shoulder. Juliana felt the tension ease from
him.

“Did I ever tell you I’m sorry your father’s dead?” Alex’s
mellow voice pierced the exhaustion settling over Juliana.

“No,” she murmured drowsily.

“Good.”

Chapter Seven

Sunday, August 13

Alex awoke disoriented, his neck stiff from sleeping upright.
He felt pressure on his knee and peered through hooded eyes at Juliana’s head
resting there, his grip locked on her braid.

The horrible truth she’d revealed last night felt like an
anvil on his heart. He’d never imagined anything like that could have happened
to her.

He fingered Juliana’s braid, reveling in the silky strands. A
faint scratching sound in the backyard prickled his senses. He realized the
front door was unlocked. The lights in the house blazed as dawn’s gray glow
leaked through the glass doors.

He swept Juliana into his arms. Her head lolled on his
shoulder and her arms encircled his neck. Desire coursed through him, and he
was acutely conscious of her soft perfumed flesh touching his arms.

“Alex?” she mumbled.

“Taking you to bed,” he whispered and planted a light kiss
on her temple.

“Ummm, sleep is good,” she murmured.

Her heartbeat synced with his. The unshakable sensation that
they were two halves of a whole filled him with longing.

He carried her up the stairs, through the double doors at
the top. He fought his way through the mosquito netting surrounding the bed. Tenderly,
he laid her on the mattress. The box springs were stiff, silent, and Juliana
slept on. Caressing her cheek, he touched her lips with his thumb before he moved
away.

Trudging downstairs, he secured the house and stretched out
on the couch in the family room. Staring up at the vaulted ceiling, remorse
hung over him like a thundercloud. He’d spent too many wasted years imagining
the worst.

Despite the pain her disappearance had caused, he wanted her
more than ever. That realization struck him harder than the blow her
reappearance had caused him.

No woman had ever replaced her in his heart. Juliana had
never left it to begin with. She would always sit firmly under his skin, in his
soul.

Alex ached to touch her with a ferocity that terrified him. He
couldn’t deny he was helplessly in love with her. Always had been, always would
be.

Minutes ticked by, and he knew sleep wouldn’t claim him
again. He rose, flexed his stiff muscles, and found his way into the kitchen
for coffee.

Waiting for the coffee to perk, he peeked inside Juliana’s
cupboards and drawers, frowning at the emptiness. The dishes and glasses were
stacked neatly, the counters uncluttered and spotless. Frozen dinner entrees
crammed her freezer, a few canned goods in her pantry.

Final coffeemaker rumblings drew his attention back to his
task. With a large cup of instant breakfast, he returned to the family room. Spying
the discarded envelope, he set his cup on the marble table and snatched up the
package. He returned to the recliner and pried open the seal on the envelope,
sliding the contents onto his lap.

A hardback book caught his eye first, and he scanned the
back cover blurb. The book was a compendium chronicling research conducted on
several ESP subjects. Juliana’s doctor, Brian Miller, Ph.D., paranormal
psychologist, had authored it.

He opened the front cover, eyes drawn to a handwritten note
half obscured by the jacket flap. His heart galloped as if after a vigorous gym
workout. Juliana had inscribed the book to him, dated three years ago.

Alex drank a large swig of coffee, gripping the cup. He
dared himself to read the meticulous script.

“Alex,

I have always loved you and will continue to love you until
the day I die.

My life was never completely mine to lead. But what part
I controlled, I want you to know everything I did, I did for you. To protect
you and allow you the life you deserve.

I hope you can forgive me someday.

Forever,

Your Jewel”

Alex’s hand tightened around the mug, sloshing coffee over
the rim, burning his fingers. Ignoring the sting, he muttered, “Damn.”

They could have salvaged the last twelve years! If only he
had known. If only Juliana accepted the fact that he would never leave her, no
matter what she believed about that damn Westwood family curse.

Fingers jittery, he skimmed through the scientific
mumbo-jumbo and honed in on the sections about “Leigh Duncan”. He no longer
needed to be convinced of her capabilities, nor how she had suffered in those
twelve years. The evidence lay there in black and white.

A rage burned low in his gut as he contemplated what a bastard
her father was, and how those quack doctors had violated her under the pretext
of science.

Alex slammed the publications down on the coffee table, the
urge to set fire to them strong. He desperately needed to feast his eyes upon
Juliana. The moment he stood upright, a scream pierced the dawn. He clanked his
coffee cup down onto the marble table.

“Alex! Nooo!”

His heart clenched as he raced up the stairs and stormed
into Juliana’s bedroom. Alex attempted to slice an opening in the netting
around her bed, but it was useless. He tore the ring from the ceiling and
tossed the material across the room.

Juliana’s face was pasty, her breathing labored. She shook forcefully
enough to jiggle the king-sized bed. He gripped her shoulders and shook her
gently, calling her name. Her eyes flew open, and a tear spilled from the
corner of one.

“Sweetheart,” Alex murmured. He stretched full-length on the
bed and gathered her in his arms.

“Alex? What are you doing here?” She tried to push him away,
confusion and fear in her foggy gaze.

“We fell asleep last night.”

Her struggles ceased as she grasped his words. “You carried
me up here. Then you were gone.”

“Slept on the couch.”

“Sorry I woke you.”

“Fat chance.” He smiled as Juliana lifted her gaze to his. “The
wine put me to sleep, but it didn’t keep me there.”

She caressed the stubble on his chin. “You look tired.”

“Was it bad?” Fear and hope fought for equal footing in his
heart. “Another vision?”

“Just an old-fashioned nightmare.” She stroked his face as
color returned to her own. “I guess talking about the past gave free rein to my
recurring nightmare.”

Her trembling ceased and he savored the feel of her body
against his.

“You called my name.” He tightened his arms around her.

“The nightmare was about you.” Her voice quivered. Heat
radiated from her palm on his chest.

“Tell me.”

She sighed quietly. “I’ve had the nightmare off and on since
the prom night accident. Not only was Johnny killed, but you and Andrea died,
hit by the same truck.”

Alex winced. “Not a premonition, I hope.”

“No!” Juliana shivered. “Doc Brian said it was my way of
grieving over losing you when I left.”

He smiled at her. “You haven’t, you know.”

Her warm, soft body tensed against him. Warily, she asked,
“Haven’t what?”

“Lost me.”

She started to pull away, but Alex tightened his hold. “Alex,”
she pleaded. “Please.”

“Stay with me a few minutes.”

Her resistance ceased, but she remained wrought iron stiff
in his arms. “What’d you do to my bed scarves?”

“What’s up with that mosquito netting?”

“The
scarves
are—were—my safety net.” There was a
hard edge in her green eyes.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Let me get this straight. Lights
keep you company and gauze makes you feel safe. How about a Rottweiler and a
nine-millimeter?”

“Ha ha ha,” she mocked. “That’s not what I meant. A gun and
a big dog won’t chase away the demons in my mind.”

Alex became all too aware of what stupid felt like. “Sorry.”
He rubbed her bare arm, loving the velvety feel of her skin under his hand. “I
wasn’t thinking.”

She placed her fingers over his mouth. “No one could know
what it’s like.”

The barest hint of her touch was evocative, and Alex shifted
to hide the stiffness in his groin.

“You haven’t lost me, you know.” He brought the paramount
subject back around. “You only misplaced me.” He grinned.

A heavy sigh escaped her and her breasts rubbed against his
chest. His erection bulged and begged for surcease.
Maybe this wasn’t such a
good idea.
He pulled away a fraction, but not enough to tease her into
thinking he’d release her.

He drew in the scent of heaven—sweet, flowery. The same perfume
he’d bought her on her eighteenth birthday—it was all she’d ever worn when they
were together.

“I thought I’d come back and find you a stockbroker,
married, three kids.” She rested her cheek against his chest. “We’d put the
past behind us and moved on with our separate lives.”

“It didn’t happen that way.”

“That’s what terrifies me.” Her breath seared his skin
through his shirt. “You know who I am and what I can do. Can you honestly say
you’re comfortable around me, knowing I can read your mind?” She drew imaginary
pictures on his chest with her index finger. “Or see me go from an independent,
self-reliant financial planner one minute, to gelatin the next time a vision
hits? I’m a freak of nature.”

None of that mattered to him, yet she wouldn’t believe him
any sooner than she’d believe a psychopathic liar. “You can be my little freak,”
he chided, kissing her head.

“Alex!” She slapped his arm in frustration.

“Can we take it one day at a time?” The pain on her face was
excruciating to behold. He squeezed her tightly, as if to bind her flesh to
his.

“No promises?” Apprehension laced her voice. “No regrets?”

Without hesitation, he replied, “Deal.” He kissed her head
again, her silken hair tickling his lips. “How ‘bout another hour of sleep?”

A smile curved her lush lips. “Like this?”

“Like this.”

Juliana wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed
her cheek to his chest. Her warm breath fueled the bonfire that had been buried
far too long.

No promises, no regrets.
Like hell.

Too many past losses gave rise to a huge void of love, trust
or reliance on anyone except Andrea, Lisette and James. His father left when he
and Andrea were five, never seen nor heard from again. His mother remarried a
man Alex adored, who then divorced his mother when Alex and Andrea were fifteen.
Never seen nor heard from again.

Then Juliana disappeared. By the time his mother died from breast
cancer days before he entered the police academy, he was afraid to love anyone.
Afraid to become intimate with another.

Juliana was the first loved one to return.

The thread of life that bound them from the day they’d first
met was twining back together. Alex felt the connection deep inside. Juliana
was his soul mate—he’d always known that. The bindings holding them as one
would never break, no matter where she was or with whom.

He’d draw his last breath before he let her go again.

Smiling, he drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

An annoying noise blasted in Juliana’s ear, her mind
straining to grasp the sound. Her limbs were languorous, unmovable. The bed
shook and she realized why she couldn’t move. Her eyes flew open and she stared
into Alex’s startled face.

He whipped his wrist around to look at his watch. “Shit! It’s
almost nine.”

They disentangled from each other as if the bed were on fire.
She snatched the phone off the night table and fumbled with the ‘on’ button. Alex
scrambled out of bed. His eyes sparkled from the sunlight streaming through the
windows and other things she could only imagine.

He perused her as if they’d done more than snuggle. The
awakening left a flush blanketing her.

Juliana breathed out, “Hello.”

“James O’Malley.”

“Hey, James.”

“You seen Alex?” James asked, evidently frustrated.

“He’s here.” She handed the phone to Alex, crawled out of
bed and ran downstairs.

When she entered the kitchen, she noticed Alex had already
brewed a pot of coffee. But the auto-shutoff had activated and the coffee was
tepid. Nervous, confused, her hands shook as she prepared a fresh batch of her
morning drug of choice.

Juliana returned to her bedroom as Alex replaced the
cordless on the night table. “What’s up?”

“Douglases are on the run.” Alex’s gaze crawled over her
wrinkled appearance. “James is getting a search warrant. We’ll meet him in an
hour.”

“How do you know they’re on the run?” Juliana crossed the
room and began straightening the bed covers.

“Their condo’s staked out.” Alex reached over to help her
with the comforter, but she shooed him away. “No one’s seen them since Friday
morning.”

She squinted at him sideways, brows arched.

“Jasmine came home earlier. We’ll pay her a visit.” Alex’s hungry
eyes continued to watch her. “Then we’ll track down Chamber. You’ll have to
shelve your tea party with Andrea.”

She had planned to spend the afternoon with Andrea and catch
up on old times, and keep Andrea’s mind off Lisette. “I hope she’s not too
disappointed.” Juliana patted the comforter and stood up straight in front of
Alex.

“You’re our link to Lisette. She wants you to do whatever it
takes to keep the link.”

“I know.” Juliana sighed in empathy.

An edgy silence ensued. Juliana grew uneasy under Alex’s
scrutiny and turned away.

Alex’s gruff voice yanked her gaze back to his face. “Do you
mind if I take a shower? I have my gym bag in my SUV.”

Her lips curved. “You can use the shower downstairs.”

“Draw me a map?” An amused grin stretched his mouth.

Her fingers twitched to touch his face and smooth away the
worry lines his devastating smile didn’t erase.

“Funny.” She smiled again and waved him off. “Bathroom’s
through my office.”

Another vibrant moment followed, two pairs of eyes gripped,
neither flinched. Her breaths were shallow and she tried to relax, but couldn’t
move.