Unravel Me (35 page)

His eyes fly open and his free hand goes right through the floor.

I jerk back, panicked. I’m tipping sideways, my hands catching me from behind. I must
be hallucinating. I must be hallucinating the hole in the floor not 4 inches from
where Warner is still sitting on the ground. I must’ve been hallucinating when I saw
his resting palm press too hard and go right through. I must be hallucinating everything.
All of this. I’m dreaming and I’m sure I’m going to wake up soon. That must be it.

“Don’t be afraid—”

“H-how,” I stammer, “how did you d-do that—”

“Don’t be frightened, love, it’s all right, I promise—it’s new for me, too—”

“My—my power? It doesn’t—you don’t feel any pain?”

He shakes his head. “On the contrary. It’s the most incredible rush of adrenaline—it’s
unlike anything I’ve ever known. I actually feel a little light-headed,” he says,
“in the best possible way.” He laughs. Smiles to himself. Drops his head into his
hands. Looks up. “Can we do it again?”

“No,” I say too quickly.

He’s grinning. “Are you sure?”

“I can’t—I just, I still can’t believe you can touch me. That you really—I mean”—I’m
shaking my head—“there’s no catch? There are no conditions? You touch me and no one
gets hurt? And not only does no one get hurt, but you
enjoy
it? You actually
like
the way it feels to touch me?”

He’s blinking at me now, staring like he’s not sure how to answer my question.

“Well?”

“Yes,” he says, but it’s a breathless word.

“Yes, what?”

I can hear how hard his heart is beating. I can actually hear it in the silence between
us. “Yes,” he says. “I like it.”

Impossible.

“You never have to be afraid of touching me,” he says. “It won’t hurt me. It can only
give me strength.”

I want to laugh one of those strange, high-pitched, delusional laughs that signals
the end of a person’s sanity. Because this world, I think, has a terrible, terrible
sense of humor. It always seems to be laughing at me. At my expense. Making my life
infinitely more complicated all the time. Ruining all of my best-laid plans by making
every choice so difficult. Making everything so confusing.

I can’t touch the boy I love.

But I can use my touch to strengthen the boy who tried to kill the one I love.

No one, I want to tell the world, is laughing.

“Warner.” I look up, hit with a sudden realization. “You have to tell Castle.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because he has to know! It would explain Kenji’s situation and it could help us tomorrow!
You’ll be fighting with us and it might come in handy—”

Warner laughs.

He laughs and laughs and laughs, his eyes brilliant, gleaming even in this dim light.
He laughs until it’s just a hard breath, until it becomes a gentle sigh, until it
dissolves into an amused smile. And then he grins at me until he’s grinning to himself,
until he looks down and his gaze drops to my hand, the one lying limp on my lap and
he hesitates just a moment before his fingers brush the soft, thin skin covering my
knuckles.

I don’t breathe.

I don’t speak.

I don’t even move.

He’s hesitant, like he’s waiting to see if I’ll pull away and I should, I know I should
but I don’t. So he takes my hand. Studies it. Runs his fingers along the lines of
my palm, the creases at my joints, the sensitive spot between my thumb and index finger
and his touch is so tender, so delicate and gentle and it feels so good it hurts,
it actually hurts. And it’s too much for my heart to handle right now.

I snatch back my hand in a jerky, awkward motion, face flushing, pulse tripping.

Warner doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t look up. He doesn’t even seem surprised. He only
stares at his now empty hands as he speaks. “You know,” he says, his voice both strange
and soft, “I think Castle is little more than an optimistic fool. He tries too hard
to welcome too many people and it’s going to backfire, simply because it’s impossible
to please everyone.” A pause. “He is the perfect example of the kind of person who
doesn’t know the rules of this game. Someone who thinks too much with his heart and
clings too desperately to some fantastical notion of hope and peace. It will never
help him,” he sighs. “In fact, it will be the end of him, I’m quite sure of it.

“But there is something about you,” Warner says, “something about the way
you
hope for things.” He shakes his head. “It’s so naive that it’s oddly endearing. You
like to believe people when they speak,” he says. “You prefer kindness.” He smiles,
just a little. Looks up. “It amuses me.”

All at once I feel like an idiot. “You’re not fighting with us tomorrow.”

Warner is smiling openly now, his eyes so warm. “I’m going to leave.”

“You’re going to leave.” I’m numb.

“I don’t belong here.”

I’m shaking my head, saying, “I don’t understand—how can you leave? You told Castle
you’re going to fight with us tomorrow—does he know you’re leaving? Does anyone know?”
I ask him, searching his face. “What do you have planned? What are you going to do?”

He doesn’t answer.

“What are you going to
do
, Warner—”

“Juliette,” he whispers, and his eyes are urgent, tortured all of a sudden. “I need
to ask you somethi—”

Someone is bolting down the tunnels.

Calling my name.

Adam.

I jump up, frantic, and tell Warner I’ll be right back.

I’m saying don’t leave yet, don’t go anywhere just yet I’ll be right back but I don’t
wait for his response because I’m on my feet and I’m running toward the lighted hallway
and I almost slam right into Adam. He steadies me and pulls me tight, so close, always
forgetting not to touch me like this and he’s anxious and he says, “Are you okay?”
and “I’m so sorry,” and “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” and “I thought you’d
come down to the medical wing,” and “it wasn’t your fault, I hope you know that—”

It keeps hitting me in the face, in the skull, in the spine, this knowledge of just
how much I care about him. How much I know he cares about me. Being close to him like
this is a painful reminder of everything I had to force myself to walk away from.
I take a deep breath.

“Adam,” I ask, “is Kenji okay?”

“He’s not conscious yet,” he says to me, “but Sara and Sonya think he’s going to be
okay. They’re going to stay up with him all night, just to be sure he makes it through
in one piece.” A pause. “No one knows what happened,” he says. “But it wasn’t you.”
His eyes lock mine in place. “You know that, right? You didn’t even touch him. I know
you didn’t.”

And even though I open my mouth a million times to say, It was Warner. Warner did
it. He’s the one who did this to Kenji, you have to get him and catch him and stop
him he is lying to all of you! He’s going to escape tomorrow! I don’t say any of it
and I don’t know why.

I don’t know why I’m protecting him.

I think part of me is afraid to say the words out loud, afraid to make them true.
I still don’t know whether or not Warner is really going to leave or even how he’s
going to escape; I don’t know if it’s even possible. And I don’t know if I can tell
anyone about Warner’s ability yet; I don’t think I want to explain to Adam that while
he and the rest of Omega Point were tending to Kenji, I was hiding in a tunnel with
Warner—our enemy and hostage—holding his hand and testing out his new power.

I wish I weren’t so confused.

I wish my interactions with Warner would stop making me feel so guilty. Every moment
I spend with him, every conversation I have with him makes me feel like I’ve somehow
betrayed Adam, even though technically we’re not even together anymore. My heart still
feels so tied to Adam; I feel bound to him, like I need to make up for already having
hurt him so much. I don’t want to be the reason for the pain in his eyes, not again,
and somehow I’ve decided that keeping secrets is the only way to keep him from getting
hurt. But deep down, I know this can’t be right. Deep down, I know it could end badly.

But I don’t know what else to do.

“Juliette?” Adam is still holding me tight, still so close and warm and wonderful.
“Are you okay?”

And I’m not sure what makes me ask it, but suddenly I need to know.

“Are you ever going to tell him?”

Adam pulls back, just an inch. “What?”

“Warner. Are you ever going to tell him the truth? About the two of you?”

Adam is blinking, stunned, caught off guard by my question. “No,” he finally says.
“Never.”

“Why not?”

“Because it takes a lot more than blood to be family,” he says. “And I want nothing
to do with him. I’d like to be able to watch him die and feel no sympathy, no remorse.
He’s the textbook definition of a monster,” Adam says to me. “Just like my dad. And
I’ll drop dead before I recognize him as my brother.”

Suddenly I’m feeling like I might fall over.

Adam grabs my waist, tries to focus my eyes. “You’re still in shock,” he says. “We
need to get you something to eat—or maybe some water—”

“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I’m okay.” I allow myself to enjoy one last second in his
arms before I break away, needing to breathe. I keep trying to convince myself that
Adam is right, that Warner has done terrible, awful things and I shouldn’t forgive
him. I shouldn’t smile at him. I shouldn’t even talk to him. And then I want to scream
because I don’t think my brain can handle the split personality I seem to be developing
lately.

I tell Adam I need a minute. I tell him I need to stop by the bathroom before we head
over to the medical wing and he says okay, he says he’ll wait for me.

He says he’ll wait for me until I’m ready.

And I tiptoe back into the dark tunnel to tell Warner that I have to leave, that I
won’t be coming back after all, but when I squint into the darkness I can’t see a
thing.

I look around.

He’s already gone.

We don’t have to do anything at all to die.

We can hide in a cupboard under the stairs our whole life and it’ll still find us.
Death will show up wearing an invisible cloak and it will wave a magic wand and whisk
us away when we least expect it. It will erase every trace of our existence on this
earth and it will do all this work for free. It will ask for nothing in return. It
will take a bow at our funeral and accept the accolades for a job well done and then
it will disappear.

Living is a little more complex. There’s one thing we always have to do.

Breathe.

In and out, every single day in every hour minute and moment we must inhale whether
we like it or not. Even as we plan to asphyxiate our hopes and dreams still we breathe.
Even as we wither away and sell our dignity to the man on the corner we breathe. We
breathe when we’re wrong, we breathe when we’re right, we breathe even as we slip
off the ledge toward an early grave. It cannot be undone.

So I breathe.

I count all the steps I’ve climbed toward the noose hanging from the ceiling of my
existence and I count out the number of times I’ve been stupid and I run out of numbers.

Kenji almost died today.

Because of me.

It’s still my fault that Adam and Warner were fighting. It’s still my fault that I
stepped between them. It’s still my fault that Kenji felt the need to pull them apart
and if I hadn’t been caught in the middle Kenji never would’ve been hurt.

And I’m standing here. Staring at him.

He’s barely breathing and I’m begging him. I’m begging him to do the one thing that
matters. The only thing that matters. I need him to hold on but he’s not listening.
He can’t hear me and I need him to be okay. I need him to pull through. I need him
to breathe.

I need him.

Castle didn’t have much more to say.

Everyone was standing around, some wedged into the medical wing, others standing on
the other side of the glass, watching silently. Castle gave a small speech about how
we need to stick together, how we’re a family and if we don’t have each other then
who do we have? He said we’re all scared, sure, but now is the time for us to support
one another. Now is the time to band together and fight back. Now is the time, he
said, for us to take back our world.

“Now is the time for us to live,” he said.

“We’ll postpone tomorrow’s departure just long enough for everyone to have a final
breakfast together. We cannot go into battle divided,” he said. “We have to have faith
in ourselves and in each other. Take a little more time in the morning to find peace
with yourselves. After breakfast we leave. As one.”

“What about Kenji?” someone asked, and I was startled to hear the familiar voice.

James. He was standing there with his fists clenched, tearstains streaked across his
face, his bottom lip trembling even as he fought to hide the pain in his voice.

My heart split clean in half.

“What do you mean?” Castle asked him.

“Will he fight tomorrow?” James demanded, sniffing back the last of his tears, fists
beginning to shake. “He wants to fight tomorrow. He told me he wants to fight tomorrow.”

Castle’s face creased as it pulled together. He took his time responding. “I … I’m
afraid I don’t think Kenji will be able to join us tomorrow. But perhaps,” he said,
“perhaps you could stay and keep him company?”

James didn’t respond. He only stared at Castle. Then he stared at Kenji. He blinked
several times before pushing through the crowd to clamber onto Kenji’s bed. Burrowed
into his side and promptly fell asleep.

We all took that as our cue to leave.

Well. Everyone but me, Adam, Castle, and the girls. I find it interesting that everyone
refers to Sonya and Sara as “the girls,” as if they’re the only girls in this entire
place. They’re not. I don’t even know how they got that nickname and while a part
of me wants to know, another part of me is too exhausted to ask.