Feel (16 page)

The roof collapses, caving and splintering into pieces of sharp shrapnel falling on top of Jensen’s father.  “N-no,” I rasp breathlessly.  Blood begins to pool underneath my fingernails as I rake them against the wall, watching the horror flashing shots of hell in front of me.  Jensen’s two story brick home is reduced to a smoldering debris.  Tattered beams and a smoky haze cloud my sight.  I gasp, trying to swallow air.  I feel their pain, the air seeping from their lungs, and I’m helpless to stop any of it. 
No, no no.  Please, no!
 

Pieces of ceiling, brick, and metal continue to crumble, falling around them as they remain trapped.  Dizziness joins the torment as I try to scream.  No sound comes out.  Images of Jackson trying to manipulate the rubble surrounding them consumes my mind.  Using all my strength, I fight like hell to break free from the vision, but there’s a hold, something keeping me trapped.  Despair stabs me with its cold poison and I know who is holding me there.  Opening my mouth, I try to suck in air, but nothing happens.  Panic begins its maddening frenzy as I watch Jackson doing the same before he stops, slowly lifting his head until his eyes pierce me.  They are shaped like Jensen’s but Jackson’s are almost a clear blue.  If my air wasn’t already gone, Jackson looking straight at me with those clear eyes darkening with agony would knock my breath away.  Feeling faint, I’m confused about the thoughts that aren’t mine invading my head.  My scalp flames from the grip of my hands twisting my hair, trying to concentrate on the pieces of information that come in broken, scattered snippets from Jackson until he’s too weak from the lack of oxygen to send any more. 

It seems like hours have passed, but it’s only been a little over a minute since the explosion.  His father gasps, his lungs filling with putrid smoke instead of desperately needed air as he takes his wife’s limp hand in his.  Jackson reaches for him, covering both his parents with his arms.  My lungs close, burning raw as I choke, watching in heart-wrenching horror and amazement when Jackson looks up at me again, silently telling me to love Jensen better than they did, before he uses the rest of his strength, mentally projecting all of them away from the air deprived room.  The rest of the roof gives way and their bodies are crushed with heavy beams, but they don’t feel the pain as they fade.  “NO,” I croak, beginning to lose consciousness as I fall the rest of the way to my knees.

“Saige?” Andy calls.  I feel his panic as he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me towards him.  “Jensen!  Saige isn’t breathing,” he yells as I float further away, being pulled with Jackson. 

The van rocks and slides as I continue to fade like they are. 
Not them.  Please not Jensen’s family.
 

Andy’s mouth presses against mine as he breathes his air inside of me.  I can no longer feel his panic even though I can hear it in his voice when he yells at me to breathe.

Strong hands press against my sternum.  “Don’t you leave me, Saige,” I vaguely hear Jensen demand.  He sounds scared as he pumps his hands against my chest.  “Stay with me, dammit!  I just got you back, baby.  Stay with me. 
Please!
” Jensen begs, pumping harder on my chest.  I want to reach for him, but I can’t feel my fingers.  I can’t feel anything but the unbearable pain of losing him again. 

Andy breathes into my mouth once more, and I finally inhale air, choking on it. 

Jensen pulls my arms, jerking me against him as he keeps telling me to breathe. 

My senses slowly come back to life, and my lungs feel like they’re bleeding when they begin to function as the vision disappears.  Hope starts to ease the terror of what I saw that’s going to happen to Jensen’s family. 
We can stop this.
  That fleeting hope is smothered by the imminent warning of death slamming into me, viciously knocking the air out of my lungs again.  Sheer terror tries to take over when I realize that only seconds are left before the vision becomes a reality. 

“Talk to me, baby.  Are you okay?” Jensen pleads, but I don’t have time to respond.

Grabbing Jensen’s phone from his pocket, I dial Jackson’s number with bloody, shaky fingers, but it goes to voicemail.  Letting out a pained cry, I dial again.  Death’s aura darkens everything inside of me and the phone falls from my fingers, bouncing against the metal floor.  I look at Jensen, pressing my hands against my mouth as tears stream down my face, dripping off my hands.  Shaking my head, I cry, “I’m so sorry.  Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Jensen!”

“What?  What is it, Saige?”

A sob tumbles from my throat and I collapse against him, “Your family.  They’re dying.”

“Dying?  My family? 
How?
” Jensen peppers me with questions while lifting my face in his hands, rubbing his thumb across my lips and checking my pulse. 

The tears are uncontrollable as they spill down my face.  Jensen grabs his cell, calling his dad.  The pain in his eyes hurts worse than the burn of the slow strangulation.  Swearing loudly, he calls Jackson.  Another vile expletive blasts from his mouth as he throws the phone.  Raking his hands through his hair, he turns towards me, taking my arms in his hands.  His voice breaks and tears glisten the edges of his eyes, “What’s happening, Saige?”

My lips quiver as I fight so damn hard to stop sobbing.  It’s over.  I feel it.  They’re gone.  My head drops into my hands and my entire body shakes with the tears.  “They di-didn’t feel any pain at th-the end,” I manage, trying to do whatever I can to ease even a fraction of the torment darkening Jensen’s face. 

Jensen lets go of me, backing away, and my heart splinters into a million stabbing shards of glass.  His agony is unbearable to witness and I feel like a piece of shit for being terrified of his reaction, the same reaction I’ve received so many times when I’ve warned someone about a loved one who was going to die and they pushed me away like they would be tainted just by touching me.  I shouldn’t give a damn what I feel or be afraid of what Jensen feels about me right now, not when he’s hurting. 

Pushing away my own pain, I give him space, wishing I could take every ounce of his suffering as mine.  The guilt is crippling from how I didn’t sense their death until it was too late.  How the fuck is this thing I have any good if I couldn’t prevent the deaths of Jensen’s family?  He has been there for me countless times when I’ve been torn apart, and I failed him.  The one man who has always believed in me and what I can do.  The one man I’ve ever loved,
and I fucking failed him!

Wrapping my arms around myself, I step closer to Jensen, wanting like hell to hold him, but I’m scared my touch will just scar him more.  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say.  There are no words that can ease something like this. 

Andy’s on the phone, giving Jensen’s address to someone.  I assume the police or the fire department, but it’s too late.  They’re gone.

Jensen’s chest heaves.  His hands are placed tightly on the top of his head as he paces.  “Are you sure, Saige?” His voice is so damn broken, it frightens me.

Tears stream down my face as I give a heavy nod.  “It was a bomb at your house.”

Jensen’s fists clench, falling to his sides.  His jaw tightens and the look in his eyes is dark and terrifying.  “Get her out of here, Andy,” he growls in a tone I’ve never heard from him.

Andy takes my arm and I allow him to lead me out of the van.  I’m not sure I could have managed on my own, not with the pain crushing my chest so hard it’s a struggle to breathe.  Tears blind me and I stumble.  Andy grabs my waist, catching me before I hit the concrete. 

A loud cry erupts before several sharp thuds rock the van, and my knees buckle. 

Sobs choke me as I sink to the wet pavement, wrapping my arms tightly around me knees.  “Help him,” I cry, pushing at Andy, needing him to go inside and do something, anything, to try to comfort Jensen.

“There’s nothing I can do right now,” he whispers.  I see the tears well in Andy’s eyes before he looks away, wiping them roughly with the back of his hand.  His grief is smothering.  He loves Jensen like his brother; that’s clear, and it rips my heart out knowing that’s all Jensen has left now.  I let his brother die.  I let his family die. 

I can’t handle the guilt as it feeds venomously on my soul.  More sobs rock my body, and Andy pulls me into his arms.  I don’t let go of my knees, holding on so tightly my nails begin to dig into my skin.  I don’t deserve his comfort.  I failed Jensen.  I deserve every bit of the pain ripping through my heart.  I deserve for Jensen to have pulled away from me like he did.  “Please – go be with Jensen,” I beg, barely able to force the words out of my mouth. 

“He needs to be alone.  He’ll come out when he’s ready,” Andy tries to soothe me, but I don’t deserve to be soothed.

“I’m sorry.” 
I am so sorry!
  I would do anything to change what happened.  I would do anything to protect Jensen.  At least fifty times I’ve sensed death and warned the people in time to stop it or say their good-byes if it was something other than an impending accident that was going to take them.  I should have explored the feeling from this morning further, pushed until I felt more about who it involved.  Instead, I fucked-up, and Jensen’s family died. 
Oh, God, they died.
  I almost died with them.  Remorse guts me and dangerous, dark thoughts resurface…maybe I should have. 

Jensen

My father, Jackson…mom.  They’re gone.  They’re fucking gone!  The pounding is punishing as my head hangs between my shoulders.  I try to catch my breath as my hands press ruthlessly against the cold metal of the van.  I never said good-bye.  I didn’t say more than a few fucking sentences to my father in four years.  FOUR YEARS!  I didn’t even get to talk to Jackson after he called.  My fist slams against the steel as tears drip to the floor between my feet.  I watch how they slowly drop between the slats until they’re gone, too.  I have no time left to say what I never did - what I don’t even yet know that I should have said.

Saige.  Dammit! 
Saige.
  I almost lost Saige.  I can’t lose her.  Not her.  The way her lips tinted bluish-gray scared the hell out of me.  She was still struggling to breathe when she tried to explain what she saw.  The tears poured from her eyes, nearly choking her as she kept apologizing. 
Shit!
  I slam the van door open and fall to my knees in front of Saige when I see her sobbing uncontrollably, rocking back and forth on the wet pavement.  Her jeans are soaked.  I can’t see her face; it’s buried in her arms as her hair spills across her shoulders and down her back, the tips wet from brushing against the concrete below. 

Andy looks at me, worry edging his usually carefree features.  I don’t know which one of us he’s more worried about right now. 

My hand trembles as I lay it softly against the top of Saige’s head.  The blood on my knuckles mixes with the faint drizzle, sending the red trail running across my skin.  I quickly wipe my hand against my shirt before smoothing my fingers against her damp hair again.  “Saige?”

Her head immediately leaves its hiding place, and those caramel eyes are surrounded by puffy red skin instead of her usual smooth olive tone.  “What can I do?” she stammers, “tell me what to do to help you.”

I didn’t think I could feel worse pain than I did four years ago, a few minutes ago, but I was wrong.  The raw agony in Saige’s eyes is fucking torture.  She experienced what they felt, nearly died with them, and she’s trying to comfort me.  The color of her lips has returned to a light pink, easing my worry at least a little.  “Are you alright?” 

Nodding quickly, she starts to reach for me but stops. 

I know what she’s thinking, and she couldn’t be more wrong.  I pull her into my arms, holding onto her like she’s my last thread of life.  She is.  Saige is the meaning behind every beat that pumps inside my chest.  My body would survive without her but my heart never would.  I wouldn’t want it to.  “I didn’t pull away from you because I wanted to.  I pulled away because I couldn’t control my emotions, and I was afraid my hold would be too rough and I would hurt you.” 

When I sent Saige away four years ago, I was self-destructive.  There was no need for me to see a reason to beat the hell out of someone if they wanted to fight, or for the need to take care of myself.  I didn’t like who I was back then, not being able to control all the shit raging inside of me.  After I got myself back together, I swore she would never see me that way if I was ever lucky enough to have her back in my life. 

My fingers tangle in her hair as I breathe her mandarin lilac scent in deeply.  “I need you in my arms more now than I ever have, so don’t you dare think I don’t want you anymore,” I whisper truthfully.  “I want you as much as I need you.”

Saige throws her arms around me, hanging on just as tightly as I am.  “Jackson knew I was there somehow.” Her voice is so small I almost think I misheard her. 

“Jackson connected with you?”

A tiny nod is her response.

“How?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around what Saige is telling me.

“He spoke to me.”  She pauses, biting her lip and shaking her head, “That’s not exactly right.  He didn’t actually talk, but he told me things.  He put his thoughts inside my head.”

I knew Jackson had abilities to see shapes and words while in another room, even pick up on thoughts when someone sat near him repeating a certain phrase silently, but I didn’t know he had advanced this far, especially sensing her from a premonition of their death before it even occurred.  The pounding in my head turns into a sledgehammer beating against my temples.  Running my fingers across my brow, I let out a long breath, not able to begin to comprehend the seemingly impossibilities yet, especially dealing with the fresh pain of losing them. “What did he tell you?”

Saige’s eyes lock onto mine, “First, you really need to know Jackson stopped their pain.  He – he projected their mind and feelings to a safe place somehow.  They never felt the final pain of their deaths.”  She swallows hard, trying to control her tears and be strong for me.

Strength seems to be eluding me right now as my throat burns, raw from holding back my own tears.  I can only nod my gratitude of her making sure I know they didn’t suffer.  Saige gives me a minute to pull myself together, and I’m grateful for that, too.

“They loved you, Jensen,” she chokes, a few tears escaping, “much more than you thought they did.  They just didn’t know how to show it.”

“Jackson told you that?”

Another soft nod. 

“What else did he say?”

“He asked me to love you more than they could.”  Saige places her hand against my cheek, her touch healing some of the pain, “He also let me know where the key to a lockbox is.”

“A lockbox?”  Shaking my head, my brow furrows, “What lockbox?  What’s in it?”

“I don’t know.  Jackson didn’t give me that information, only where the key and the bank where the lockbox is.”  Saige closes her eyes.  Her hand mindlessly clutches her neck as she takes in a deep breath, “There’s one more thing.  The bomber’s real name is Kyle Griffin.  He’s twenty-six and has abilities stronger than Jackson or your father have ever encountered.  They were able to go to his home and find out that he’s planning a bombing at least three times the size of the bomb at the college.”

“When?” I demand.  Taking her hand, I ease my tone when her gaze falls, “Did he say when?”

“No, they were working on finding out more when -” Saige stops, not repeating what happened next.

The brokenness in her eyes is excruciating.  Her face is cold as I hold it in my hands, “I’m sorry you went through their suffering, Saige.”

Guilt darkens her face, affecting her entire body as she nearly curls inside herself.  The realization of her blaming herself for my family’s deaths impales me.  “No, Saige!  There’s nothing you could have done to have stopped this.”

She says nothing, just looks down, unable to meet my gaze.  “I would do anything to save them.  I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” I rush, “so would I, but this isn’t your fault.”  Just the knowledge of how Saige sensed anything about them when they are still hours away proves how connected she is to me.  My not being close to them for so long is even more astounding with how she felt anything at all.  She’s never sensed a death of someone further away than a couple of towns.  The people she warned about a loved one dying was always very close to that person, both physically and emotionally.  The only reason she could sense her grandfather’s death was because he died while visiting her instead of at his home three hours away.  Even with the ache of the loss of my family, realizing the depth of Saige’s love and connection to me is as comforting as it is sanctifying, giving me strength.

Saige forces a smile, trying to hide her guilt and focus on me, and I love the hell out of her for wanting to protect me as much as I want to protect her. 

“You were dying, Saige,” I mumble, a stab of rage and terror scarring me from that fact.

The way her eyes shift away doesn’t go unnoticed by me or by Andy. 

He kneels beside her, placing his hand on my shoulder while taking her hand with his free one, giving a small smile, “To be so full of hot air, you sure weren’t using any of it earlier.”

I manage a laugh, knowing this is Andy’s way of easing the tension and trying to be there for both of us.

Saige’s eyes soften and her lips curve slightly, “I hope you didn’t breathe any of your bullshit into me.”

“What are you not telling us, Saige?” I ask, carefully watching her.

Her lips press tightly together as I see her struggling to think of a way to avoid my question.  She loses the battle.  “He was there.”

“Griffin was with my family?” My jaw tightens so damn hard it feels like it’s locked.  “He was with them when they died?”

“Not physically.  He was behind the bomb, but he wasn’t there.”  Confusion crinkles the lines beside her eyes.  “I don’t know how I felt him.  It was like he was linked to Jackson somehow and Jackson was too weakened to shake him.  When Jackson connected to me, I felt Griffin.  He felt me, too.”  Saige’s fingers brush nervously against her forehead, “He was holding me there.”

Griffin was trying to kill Saige along with my family.  Rocking back on my heels, I grapple with what Saige is telling me.  It’s nearly impossible to wrap around my brain with not understanding how in the hell Jackson or Griffin did any of what Saige saw them do.  If I didn’t want to kill this bastard before, I want to rip him into pieces before ending this fucking psychopath after what he’s done now.  Hearing he knows about Saige terrifies the hell out of me. 

“He knows about you.”  Andy repeats my fear.  The look he gives me is clear; we have to stop this bastard.  Now.

“I’m calling Darrin,” I tell Andy, nodding my head at Saige, but he’s already wrapping his arm around her, pulling her from the wet ground.  He’ll take care of her while I make the call.  The Ghost Rider ringtone blasts my ear and any other time I would laugh at his twisted sense of humor. 

“Hey, Rider, I was wondering when your sorry ass was going to call and check on your shop,” Darrin jokes. 

“I left it in good hands,” I tell him truthfully.  I have no worries about Reckless on Rails with Darrin in charge.  I tighten my grip on my phone, shoving my free hand into my pocket, staring up at the gray sky.  Drizzle moistens my face until the rain drips off my chin as I tell Darrin what happened.  Saying it out loud makes it all seem so much more real and I lean against the brick wall next to me, trying to not lose my shit here. 

“Damn, Jensen.  I’m sorry, man.”  I hear the sorrow in Darrin’s voice.  He knows I’m not close to my family - wasn’t close to my family – but if anyone can understand what I’m going through, it’s him.  Darrin’s a few years older than me and moved out at seventeen as well and never looked back, but I can hear his pain when he mentions his family; he still loves them. 

“What do you need me to do?” he asks. 

“I underestimated Griffin.  I can’t afford to do that again,” I admit.  “Shut the shop down.  I need everyone in Boone.  We’re still nineteen hours away.  Dad found out Griffin’s planning something big and we need to find out where and stop him.  He also knows about us so I need the abilities of everyone to do this.”  There’s no way I’m leaving anything up to chance with him knowing about Saige. 

“We’ll be there.”

“Thanks, man.”  Squeezing the phone, I ask him to bring the money in the safe.  It’s the last I have left.  If we don’t find Griffin soon, I’m going to lose the shop. 

“I was saving this to tell you when you got back but it sounds like you could use a little good news.  The deal you were working on before you left came through.  You got the contract from Skeller, along with a nice advance.”

“How?  I had to leave in middle of finishing the deal with Skeller’s new line of bike sales stores.” 

“Hey, I’m a quicker learner,” Darrin laughs, “and, I learned from the best.”

“You met with Skeller in my place.  Thanks, Darrin.  I mean it, man.” 

“It’s the least I can do for you saving my ass and giving me a job here, and I don’t want to hear that bullshit Andy gives about paying it forward.  It’s just what family does.  That’s all, nothing more.”

The damn tears are relentless, but I force them back.  My family is gone.  One family.  Thank God I have the other one.  I don’t know what I’d do without Saige and the crew. 

Darrin ends the call, not making me have to respond, which is good because I don’t think I could have without losing my shit that I’m barely hanging onto at the moment. 

The wall is hard, wet, and cold, but I don’t care about any of that as I lean my full weight against it, trying to pull myself together.  Saige needs me, even though she would never admit that right now.  Memories of my family run through my mind.  It hurts much more with how most of them aren’t happy ones.  Those, I can count with one hand.  The earliest part of my childhood was spent with me trying to do anything to get Dad to be proud of me.  Then, I spent the rest of my years at home trying to prevent damage to Jackson from all the intense pressure my father put on him.  There are no memories of laughter at the dining room table, family vacations, or decorating the Christmas tree, just lots of yelling and failures.  I wish I had warm, comforting memories of my family.  I don’t, but I have thousands with Saige.  Those will get me through.

Saige is still wrapped under Andy’s arm when I return.  She isn’t crying anymore but she looks as devastated as I feel.  I can’t let her blame herself for this.  I made the choice to get my father involved, but I know who’s to blame.  Griffin did this.  “We have to go.”