Haunted (State v. Sefore) (16 page)

Jakob leaned forward, arms on his knees. “Even though they’ve hurt people themselves.”

Andrew’s face. Noah blinked. Gone. He couldn’t add to the list. “I don’t think so, Jake.”

“We’ll have to keep thinking then.” Jakob shook the hair out of his face. “Back to the more immediate problem. Does Daniel know about the deadline?”

“No. If he knew…” Noah cringed, and pain shot through his ribs. Bad idea. “You saw how he reacted before. Daniel can’t know.”

Maddison continued twining the strand of hair through her fingers. “Would McCray have told him?”

“I don’t think so.” Then he remembered Daniel’s cryptic remark from the first night. “Wait, he has his own orders.… McCray thought he might be useful.”

“If a number of the hospital employees are part of the resistance, the fight today would be enough to clarify where you stand and grant you some respect with them.”

Noah stared at Jakob. How had he not thought of that first? Maybe it was the bass drum pounding in his head. “Sounds about right.”

Maddison threw her hands up in the air. “That sounds crazy to me.”

“No, it makes sense.”

Her arms trembled, her face a shade lighter than normal.

He reached over to capture one of her hands. “You’re scared for me again.”

She nodded, her eyes filling with tears, and he pulled her closer, ignoring the stab of pain running down his side.

“What if we can’t … what if you’re wrong about Daniel?”

“I’m not.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“How do you know?”

“Because Daniel’s protectiveness is the one thing that’s never changed.”

Chapter Nineteen

“T
ell me about
him then. The before Daniel.”

Noah sighed. How far back would he have to go to give her a true sense of the brother he remembered? Seven years? Too long.

Jakob stood. “I’m going to head out before I have to endure any more PDA.”

Maddison straightened. “You don’t have to go.”

He waved her off. “I know all of the important stuff, and Noah can give me the condensed version of this later on. Besides, somebody’s got to figure out what we’re eating for dinner.” He headed for the kitchen.

“He’s very mature, your brother,” Noah said.

Settling back against him, she nodded. “I have no idea when it happened.”

“That’s pretty normal, I think.”

“Are you okay? Comfortable? I can move.” She began to shift, and he used the arm around her shoulders to pull her back toward him.

The weight of her body did hurt, but he would never admit it. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Okay.” She reached out for his left hand to weave her fingers through his. “What was it like, being his little brother?”

A small smile escaped despite the pain that came when talking about what used to be. “It was kind of awesome. I’ve always been the quiet one, but Daniel drew a crowd, the proverbial life of every party. He could make anyone laugh—except our father, but I can’t ever remember him smiling. So I’m not sure he counts. Growing up, Daniel could make our mom smile even on the worst day. He had friends everywhere, charmed the teachers and, in secondary, the girls. I wanted to be him.

“He’s the one who taught me how to throw a football, to swing a bat, to fix a car.” Looking down at Maddison who’d been studying his face, he wanted to convey how empathetic Daniel had been. “He was my best friend.”

“I can tell.”

“He scored a spot on the football team his third year of secondary school. He’d come dragging into the house after practice every afternoon, muddy and banged up. Didn’t speak to anyone until after he showered and ate dinner.” He smiled. “But after we finished cleaning the kitchen, he’d pull me outside and run drills with me. He’d plow into me, knocking the wind out of me, and then rib me when I didn’t bounce back up ready for another play. I thought he just wanted to make up for all the times he got tackled himself, but one night he clued me in. ‘It’s going to be great when we’re on the team together,’ he said. ‘The other teams won’t stand a chance against the Seforé brothers.’” The brothers united—all Daniel ever wanted.

“So that really is your last name?”

He nodded.

She squeezed his hand. “What changed?”

“The day I entered the Academy, the day he graduated …” Frustration mounted, and he tried to expel it with an exhale. “Did you know that during the two-year training period, you can’t have contact with the outside world?” He clenched his mouth shut, swallowing down the anger that flooded his throat. “It’s criminal, that protocol. They did send word about my parents, but I couldn’t see or talk to Daniel, not once, until I graduated. We had already gone two years without communication because of his time in training.” He pounded his fist against the top of the couch. “They should’ve given us fifteen minutes, something. By the time I found him, it was too late.”

She rested a hand on his leg. “I’m so sorry.”

He kept his gaze fixed on the wall; moisture gathered in his eyes. “Thanks.”

“What happened?”

His eyes slid shut, but he couldn’t block the memory of finding Daniel drunk and unconscious in his trashed bedroom. The encroaching darkness, the shards of glass littering the floor, and the burn marks along the wall by the metal trashcan. He could almost smell the smoky after-effects in the curtains.

“On the day our parents were killed, the one person besides me who could’ve saved Daniel, who should’ve cared about him, only added to the devastation. She destroyed him.” Hatred flickered to life. He squashed the flame—it did no good to hate her.

“He loved her?”

“Very much,” Noah whispered. Daniel had been so excited about his and Avery’s plans the day before he’d been bused off to the Academy.

“He pushes everyone away so he can’t be hurt again?”

Noah opened his eyes. Though Maddison’s face still held skepticism and mistrust, a sympathy glimmered there as well. He nodded. “The problem is, I know who he used to be, and I won’t let him forget it. I hold him to a standard, remind him he’s going to account for his actions someday. That’s why he pushes my buttons. It would be easier for him if I’d leave him alone or become like him.”

“Would it be easier for you?”

“To leave him alone?” The muscles in his jaw and neck tightened on reflex. “Yes. He’s less my brother each time I see him. That day destroyed something in him, but the way he lashed out in response—and still is lashing out—it could never be okay.” The stiffness moved down into his spine.

She cocked her head at him. “What?”

“The thought of spending the next two months pulling him out of a drunken stupor or away from his ego-driven fights. It makes me angry.” He wanted to hold the next words back, but he wouldn’t. “Sometimes, I think I hate him.”

“But he’s your brother.” Maddison gave his shoulder a little nudge. “And you can’t let him go.”

“He’s family—all I’ve got. Somebody’s got to look out for him.”

“And you’re all he has.” She turned in his arms. “That’s why he can’t kill you.”

“I hope so.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Me too.”

But what if … should he trust Daniel now?

“I understand. I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.” Her fingers slid over the bruising around his eyes. “I don’t like him. I don’t trust him.” She paused and sucked in a long breath. “But I trust you.”

He shouldn’t do it, but he leaned closer, cupping her face with the hand tangled in her hair, and kissed her. Her hands fell to his chest as he pulled her further into his embrace and deepened the pressure on her lips. When his breath quickened, he released her. Her lungs must be screaming for air.

She sighed. “You’re much better at that than I am.”

“Not possible.”

He rested his head on top of hers and let his eyes close. Her fingers ghosted over the knuckles of his left hand. “You don’t have a tan line where your ring should be.”

“It’s on the other hand.” He laid that hand over hers. “Third finger.”

“Does it feel weird to not have it on?”

Weird? Never. “It feels freeing.”

“Tell me about finding out, about being drafted, I mean.”

He pulled her closer, needing the light she provided to go back there, to the worst day ever. “When Daniel’s results came, I got nervous. I’d hoped to score well enough for Class Three. Knowing what a small percentage separated it from Class One made me second-guess my plans. I wanted nothing to do with the Elite. I decided to fix my grades, not fail—because that would’ve been noticed—but bring my scores down low enough that I wouldn’t be inducted.”

“It didn’t work.” Her words were soft and slow, full of regret.

He shrugged. “Maybe the grading computers can spot cheating, I don’t know. Both the physical ability and intellectual aptitude tests came back with almost perfect scores. It has to be due to the brain wave indicators and not your actual answers. That’s all I can figure.” His mouth turned sour at the memory of his dad announcing the results. “I’d never seen my parents so proud, both sons scoring in Class One. I wanted to talk to Daniel. He would understand, but he’d been at the Academy for a year and a half at that point. So for the next three months, I sat in my room and considered my options.”

Her mouth fell open, and she clutched his hand. “Noah.”

“I never wanted this. Never. But I told myself continuing to breathe gave me enough reason not to refuse. Lot of good it’s doing me now.”

“Don’t say that.” She sat up and held his face in her hands. “You made the right decision. Don’t think anything else.”

She didn’t understand. Letting the Elite end his life at sixteen might’ve saved them. Maybe even God could’ve accepted him then. Before the blood, before wrecked lives, before orphans and widows … maybe heaven wouldn’t have been out of reach.

He took her hands in his. “You don’t know what I’ve done, Maddison. Lives aren’t ever the same after I’ve visited someone.” He looked into her eyes. She had to see the seriousness of his offenses. “I’ve killed. Other people don’t breathe because I do.”

“Because of their own actions.”

“Not theirs alone.” His head dropped. An accusing whisper recited the names.

Her hands gripped his. “Tell me.” Her voice wobbled. “About your first … liquidation, I mean.”

A weight dropped in his stomach. He’d never wished for a rewind button more.

Andrew’s face, so like Jakob’s, flashed to center stage. “He was fifteen.” He sucked in a deep breath. “And distraught. His parents had been liquidated three weeks before.” The similarities between Andrew and Jakob, between him and Maddison, hit Noah in the gut. He braced himself for her inevitable rejection, pulled his shoulders back, steadied his breath.

“Go on.” Her nails scraped his skin, her hands so clenched around his own.

He widened the memory, pulling back from Andrew to see the larger scene. “I had graduated from the Academy and sped back to MA-16. I spent a month trying to sober Daniel up. Andrew spotted me coming out of the grocery store, loaded down with cleaning supplies, coffee, and pain reliever. I remember because when he yanked the bag out of my hands, the pill bottles bounced on the ground around our feet.”

“He picked a fight with you?”

“A liquidator took his parents away without batting an eye. He’d been sent to live with his aunt and uncle who didn’t want him. Life had spun out of control, and he wanted to reassert some power over it.” The kid’s shoves didn’t even put him off balance, which riled the young man more. “He wanted someone to punish. Someone to blame, and I happened to be the first liquidator who crossed his path.

“I tried to calm him down, to get him to walk away.” Noah forced his eyes up to hers. He needed to watch her face as he finished. “He kept pushing me. The constant guard duty over Daniel had left me exhausted …” Tension built in his shoulders as it had that day. “I didn’t see his uppercut coming, but the moment he made contact, my training kicked in. The drills made my countermove second nature.” He swallowed and forced the next words out. “I snapped his neck before I could stop myself.”

Maddison’s eyes grew wide and frightened. Something fractured inside him, and darkness clawed its way into the new fissure.

Her lungs stopped working. Her body froze. Her brain repeated his last words: Snapped his neck. Snapped his neck. Snapped his …

Stop!

She rubbed her hands over her face, willing away the refrain and the images—of her own rebellious actions after her parents’ liquidation, of the young man who’d taken Jakob’s face in her mind.

Noah’s movement caught her attention. He’d stood and crossed the room, placing as much distance between them as possible. His eyes darted between her and the ground, his shoulders stooped.

She wished they could go back to before she’d asked for answers. She didn’t want to know he might be dead in two months. She didn’t want to know this.

It was a terrible accident, and anything but. An action that could never be taken back. Her fingers twisted a lock of hair tight against her scalp. She braved another glace at him and caught his eyes dead on. Defeated, broken eyes. He knew. More even than she did.

“Maybe I should go.”

Everything moved in slow motion. “No.” Her head shook. He needed to stay here. “We’ll finish … talking. I just need a minute. To process.”

“I’m sorry. If I could go back …” His voice broke off. She could almost see the pain oozing out of every pore. “I’d make it right if I could.”

Of course he would. Everything about today, every action today proved it. She reached out for him. He came closer and took her hand, furrowed eyebrows matching his frown.

She pushed the words out. “I know.”

“Didn’t you hear anything I said?” He tried to release her hand as he spoke, but she clung tighter.

“Yes. And it’s horrible. It’s all horrible.” She tugged his hand closer. “I wish it’d never happened—I wish you’d never been drafted—but Noah, you aren’t that guy anymore.” He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she held up her free palm. “The Noah I know isn’t a recent graduate of the Academy. He has honed self-control. He steps between liquidators and innocent people.” An image of John Henderson arguing with his son. “He stops non-liquidator bullies from terrorizing weaker people as well.

“He has complete control even when that bully takes a swing at him. The Noah I care about, as he’s so often told me, knows how to pick his battles.”

He sank to the couch, his eyes closed. A shudder ran through him. His voice cracked. “He was just a kid. He needed help.”

She ran a hand through Noah’s hair. “So did you.” He tried to pull away, but she held firm. “Listen to me. You, Noah Seforé, have changed my life, for the better. And I don’t think I’m the only one.”

In the other room, a vidcom rang, and Noah sat up. “I have to get that one.”

She didn’t release him. “Okay?”

He sighed. “Okay.”

Noah walked into the kitchen. His official vidcom vibrated in a circle. The caller ID? Ryan Lutz. He picked it up and headed for the hall bathroom. “Hey, Ry.”

“Noah. I’m in your file.” Ryan’s voice held none of its usual exuberance.

Noah shut the bathroom door and turned on the fan. “What’d you find?”

“There are no scores. In your file. No academic grades. No athletic notes. No psych eval. Just the placement into Class One.”

Noah’s knees gave out.

Clicking noises echoed in the background. “I thought maybe a set of files had been corrupted. Maybe a problem to do with your testing group or something….” Ryan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Your file’s the only anomaly. Everyone else has a complete workup. What’s going on, Noah?”

His mouth was dry. The room seemed to spin. When had he breathed last? He sucked in a long breath. Exhaled. The floor and ceiling righted themselves.