Forgotten (25 page)

“
I said there were enough
people looking for
you
,” he corrected. “Stop making excuses to keep me at an arm’s
length. We already have a deal. I’m not going to let you back out
on it, but it doesn’t mean you get to talk down to me, or play
games either.”

“
You’re right,” I
confessed, hoping that he’d understand that I wasn’t trying to
argue with him; it just came so naturally. “I don’t trust many
people, especially ones that seem to be complete lunatics, like you
and your friends.”

“
Lies,” he said. “You’re
scared that I can actually do what I say. You’re not afraid of
lunatics; you think they’re funny, and they remind you of the
Cutter. You’re scared of people who can get close to you. You’re
afraid to let people know the real you.”

“
Who is the
Cutter?”

He sighed, like he knew I wasn’t going
to like the answer. “Your and the Prophet’s sister.”

I pressed my lips together. I didn’t
want to talk about this with so many people around. It could get
complicated real fast. “I know I’ve said this before, but we need
to talk about what you found about my family. Can you come by JJ’s
tonight?”

“
Don’t know where it’s at,”
Jace mumbled.

“
You’re
impossible.”

“
Learned from the best,” he
snorted, like he meant he learned his stubbornness from
me.

The little fiasco he put on that we’d
known each other for years was getting old, but I needed his help
if I was going to figure out who murdered my family. We sat in
silence for the better part of Mrs. Brigg’s lecture. Two minutes
before the bell rang, I still hadn’t swayed him. “I’ll owe you,
Jace.”

***

“
Martha, set another
plate,” John shouted out as he pulled the tin foil from the baking
pan. The aroma of garlic and basil wafted into the air. “Winnie has
company again.”

“
We’re having chicken and
wild rice,” I said, opening the closet door as Jace walked through
the front door.

We didn’t exchange niceties. He handed
me his jacket. I hung it up. He pet Max. I started to walk away
when he grabbed my arm. As soon as I stopped walking, he let
go.

“
Gwyneth, do your foster
parents still believe we are dating?”

“
For now.”

“
You’re right. This charade
isn’t a great cover story,” he said and then sighed as he reached
for my hand.

His total lack of enthusiasm made it
clear, he was here to play the part of my boyfriend, and nothing
more. Jace kept a distance, making sure he never got very close
unless John or Martha was watching.

If I didn’t know what was going on
behind the scenes, I would’ve thought, we were really into each
other. Jace made only a few comments, so I couldn’t even listen to
the seductive waves in his voice. I thought his presence might ease
some of my physical uneasiness, but rather, I was left with a cold,
outer shell.

Once the food was brought to the
table, I excused myself to the bathroom, before we began eating.
Having Jace at my home, and not being allowed to get very close,
was like dangling chocolate in front of me, but pulling it away as
soon as I reached for it. My hands shook, as I splashed water on my
face. Letting the water drip from my cheeks and chin, I took
several deep breathes. When I was confident I could do this, I
dried off.

His lips replaced the rose
petal. He didn’t so much kiss me, as tease me with the possibility
of it. He spun me around in his arms. I opened my eyes to him
releasing more petals over my head. His hands were calloused,
showing the signs of a rough life. A faint silver scar trailed up
the thumb and up his lean, muscular arm until hiding underneath his
short-sleeved olive shirt.

I reached up and took his
hand in mine. My smallest finger brushed over the scar, and it
began to move like it was being blown off his skin. After
separating itself, the scar danced in the wind, as if it were a
piece of thread. The young man sang softly, as he spun me in his
arms. The scar wrapped around us as we danced. He pressed his chin
gently against my head. I closed my eyes as he lifted my chin. His
silk lips found mine.

The vision made me
smile.
One day, I’ll be happy,
I repeated to myself. If only it matched my
reality now. I turned the door handle and jumped slightly, when I
noticed Jace waiting just outside.

“
Something’s bothering
you,” Jace said.

“
So not only do you claim
to know my ambitions, but you also have a direct connection to my
internal turmoil?”

I side-stepped him. He grabbed my arm,
stopping me. This time he didn’t let go. Instead, he showed me just
how strong of a grip he had. I told him to let go, unless he wanted
a fight.

“
Tell me what happened just
now, Gwyneth. I know you were in distress, so stop shying away from
me!”

“
You attracted more flies
with honey, than vinegar,” I said, wincing from the pressure in my
arm. I jabbed him in the gut; my fist didn’t fazed him. He made no
indication that I’d hurt him.

“
The fly doesn’t like my
honey,” he said, squeezing tighter.

The pain brought me to my knees; he
didn’t let go, even as I kneeled in front of him. I’d certainly
lose in a fight with him. Words would be much more effective and
potent than my fist.

“
I get it. You’re ticked at
me. I would be too,” I admitted. “I don’t trust you, but then again
I don’t trust myself. It’s hard for me, so can
you
give me an inch?”

He relaxed his grip and muttered an
apology. Too completely consumed with Jace, I hadn’t noticed Elsie
until she kicked Jace in the shin and told him to leave me alone!
My keeper was finally finding her voice.

“
Butt-head?” Jace said
smoothly, repeating the foul word Elsie had called him. He relaxed
his grip on my arm only to help me back up to my feet. “Do
butt-heads usually help people back up, when they trip?”

“
Winnie?” Elsie asked to
confirm his story.

“
Promise,” I said, taking
her hand instead of Jace’s, and letting Elsie lead me to the
kitchen “I just tripped.”

“
You trust him?” she
whispered after looking back at him.

“
Why do you
ask?”

“
The pretty ones are good
liars.”

“
He is pretty, isn’t he,” I
admitted, but my voice didn’t carry affection; it held distain.
Yes, the butthead, as Elsie so kindly put it, had to be
pretty.

Elsie stopped walking and tugged my
hand down to her. She asked in a whisper, “How do you know what
people look like?”

“
I get a general picture
from my hands,” I said and touched my face, showing her how I saw.
She stood on her tiptoes, trying to get a better look. I squatted
so she wouldn’t have to strain her toes. “Would you let me see
you?”

“
Ummm, can you show me with
someone else first – like him?” Elsie asked nervously, pointing
back down the hall at Jace who was now directly behind me. How Jace
could easily cross distances without me hearing him, unnerved
me.

“
Gwyneth and I haven’t
really advanced to face-feeling yet. We’re still trying to master
being in the same room with each other,” Jace said
quietly.

“
Afraid I’ll find out how
ugly you are?” I teased, looking affectionately at Jace, like he
was my boyfriend. We had a show to put on, for my family,
right?

Jace chuckled, then full out laughed
and finally agreed to Elsie’s request. His laugh sounded like I
imagined heaven would, to my ears. I dropped to my knees, which
wasn’t as dramatic as it sounded since they were only a few inches
from the floor.

“
He sounds nice,” Elsie
whispered.

I couldn’t help but smile. I stared,
in awe of how his white silhouette fluctuated with his laugh. “That
he does.”

Martha held off on supper so I could
show Elsie how I see. I guess we were all eager to do anything to
make her feel like this wasn’t a scary place to live, even if it
meant pushing supper back a little longer. John put the food back
into the oven to keep warm and busied himself so Elsie wouldn’t get
spooked, with so many people watching. Jace sat in the dining room
chair. Elsie was on his right, while I stood in front of his
left.

“
Sometimes it’s easier to
feel the way a person looks by standing behind them,” I said,
pulling out a chair beside Jace.

Elsie stood on the chair. I took her
hand and placed it on his forehead. I took a deep breath and
started. With my hand, I showed her how to let her hands trickle
down until she reached his eye brows. I doubled check – no unibrow.
I showed her how to measure the distance between the hairline,
which was as soft as silk, and his chin. I then showed her how that
measurement should be the same size of a person’s hands. She
followed my lead, mimicking my actions, on the opposite side of his
face.

“
Let the tips of your
finger, go over his eyelids, and pay careful attention to how deep
the eye socket is, in relationship to the formation of his
brow.”

I gently slid my fingers to the sides
of his eyes. I informed Elsie to feel for any skin abnormalities or
bumps, when I felt it. A dimple. It was perfectly buried in his
cheek. I swallowed before letting my fingers trail along his jaw
line, which was hard and straight. His facial hair was shaved to
the skin, but started to prickle. He probably needed to shave daily
to keep up the smooth skin. My hand trembled as my adrenaline
surged. It was ridiculous how much I enjoyed the feeling of his
scruffy face. I started to pull away when he reached up. He held my
hand gently, against his face. He rubbed his thumb over the
backside of my hand, encouraging me not to pull away. I heard
myself gasp when his thumb rolled over my smallest finger.
Immediately, the vision of the perfect lips jarred me from my
thoughts. I regained my composure quickly. I wanted to see Jace so
badly, instead of showing Elsie how I did it. I bit my tongue to
keep from asking her to move over so I could see how to picture him
in my mind’s eye. Barely controlling myself, I showed her how feel
for the contours in his face.

The tip of my finger caught the tail
end of a thin scar following nearly the entire length of his left
eye. A deep moan grew in Jace’s throat as I traced it. The sound
hit my ears like some glorious echo had sounded.

We repeated the motion until reaching
his nose. I showed her how to follow along the side first so she
could get a general picture of the shape of the nose before
examining length, depth, and skin health. Jace’s nose was slightly
wider than I imagined and had a slight crook in it, veering to the
left.

“
Compliments of your
younger sister,” Jace muttered.

“
What did you say?” Elsie
asked.

“
Ignore him,” I said before
Jace had a chance. “He’s not supposed to talk – messes up the
features of the face.”

Jace bounced slightly, while he failed
to suppress his chuckle. Just when I wished he’d open his mouth so
I could hear its sweet sound, another vision hit me.

My skin was smooth and
youthful, just like his, as I cupped his face in my hands. I
brushed back his dark brown hair that fell over his chocolate-brown
eyes. Flecks of gold shimmered in them even though dirt clung to
his hair, like he took a shower in mud. Smoke filled the edges of
my sight as dawn broke. I thanked my sister for not cutting his
thread, when he searched the Master’s cave looking for the lost
parts of my soul – my Scavengers. I didn’t fight his touch as he
traced his dirty finger over my hand. I craved it.

“
Did you uncover their
orders?” I asked.

“
Anyone who utters their
name will greet death.”

“
They rise as death’s
henchmen, disregarding forgotten memories,
only to collect the dead.”

The same man who’d kill me one day
held onto me like I was his lifeline. Jace grabbed my shaking hand.
I clenched my teeth, trying to make sense of my visions. I died in
the arms of a youthful man, who didn’t age as I did. The vision had
happened so many times before that it had to be significant, other
than giving me insight to my future and inevitable death. I fought
back my tears; now was not the time or place to have an epiphany.
My lungs burned, but I wasn’t the one holding my breath – he was. I
tapped him, and the clasp on my throat loosened.

“
Gwyneth?” If one word
could say so many unasked questions, it was when he spoke my
name.

“
Lips are a little tricky,
just like the nose,” I said, ignoring Jace’s concern. “Like the
nose, outline the lips to get a general picture of the shape. In
your mind you can divide them in half, or you can ask Jace to part
his lips, slightly.”

Jace parted his lips before she asked.
My skin tingled when I wondered if his lips felt like
silk.

“
Are you scared?” Elsie
whispered.

“
No.” (I was freaking
terrified.) I begged for my hands to steady themselves. “Let’s take
turns like we did with the nose, or our fingers might bump into
each other and get a bad read.”