Voice (27 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:

Returning

“Okay, Jemma babe, this is where I leave you.” Heidi put a hand on Jemma’s shoulder and nodded toward where Myles waited for them on the other side of the security checkpoint. Presumably, another agent had pulled the same strings for him as Heidi had to get Jack and Jemma through check-in and security without any identification. Hopefully Myles, at least, hadn’t also needed to stop off in a tacky airport gift shop for flip flops and a tourist T-shirt; he’d had the luxury of being abducted out of his car rather than his bed.

“Make sure y’all avoid any barbaric nut jobs,” Heidi added.

“That’s the plan,” Jack said. “Thanks for all your help.”

“Thank you,” Jemma echoed, awkwardly covering Heidi’s hand with her own. “I don’t know whether we’d have made it without you.”

“Just doing my job,” Heidi said with a wink before dropping her hand and waving them forward. “Now go on so I can get home.” She smiled at them, and after they made it through the priority lane of the security checkpoint, she waved, then turned and left.

Jemma took a breath and turned to Myles, watching as Jack shook the other man’s hand. Myles had dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders sagged in poor imitation of his typical, political posture. She felt another surge of guilt; he’d revealed himself at their urging. He’d been afraid, and his worries had proven themselves more than valid.

“I guess we have the same flight out of here,” Myles said, looking down at the ticket in his hand. “They say we’re safe now, but they said that before.”

Jemma shifted, glancing at a nearby clock. “Let’s get through the crowd and to our gate, and we can talk where it’s quieter.” The men nodded in agreement, and the trio made it to their gate without incident. Jemma tried to relax into her seat, wishing they were already home, longing for somewhere without the emotional and physical push that came from being surrounded by strangers.

Jack, in contrast, looked perfectly at ease, leaning back in the chair next to her as much as the stiff seat would allow, one ankle crossed over the other. “What happened after we spoke on the phone?” he asked, looking at Myles, who’d collapsed into the chair on Jack’s other side.

Myles leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and clasping his hands together, his head bowed and eyes closed. “Not a lot. Too much.” He fell silent for long enough that Jemma wondered whether he planned to leave it there. “I didn’t get to do anything, really. I pulled over at a gas station so I could track down some phone numbers. I heard my door open, then nothing. Couldn’t even tell you how I was knocked out, because I don’t remember.”

Jemma reached for Jack’s hand, and Myles continued. “I think I woke up a few times. I remember being in a back seat, remember it being dark. Then I was locked in a bedroom, and they must have been drugging my food, because I kept falling back to sleep, and I couldn’t wake up enough to find a way out.” He straightened and ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t put this together right away. Today, I was avoiding the food for as long as I could when the FBI or whoever came in. They showed me badges, but…” He shook his head.

“We were told it was several agencies working together,” Jemma volunteered. “I’m not entirely sure it makes a difference, in the long run.”

“You’re right,” Myles agreed. “I suppose there’s no real difference to us. This won’t change anything. We’ll still be going through our individual liaisons for anything to do with trials.”

“I’ll call and update ours sometime today,” Jack said. “I don’t want to count on somebody else relaying the information.”

“Smart.” Myles looked toward them. “What about the two of you? What happened between that phone call and now?”

***

Their recounting of events was interrupted by the announcement for boarding to begin. They finished explaining on the plane, made easier by the fact that the airline had found a way to seat them together, despite the short notice.

Myles dozed off shortly after they’d finished, and Jemma watched out the window, her view alternating between clouds and patchwork ground beneath them. In the middle seat, Jack flipped through the airline magazine before shifting, leaning against Jemma and sending a strong surge of affection before he, too, fell asleep.

Jemma remained awake, just watching. Too much had happened for her to sleep. She felt overwhelmed, relieved, free.

Guilty.

People had died. Myles had been kidnapped. Josh had been released and could’ve harmed even more people. She knew, of course, intellectually, that none of it was really her fault, that only in hindsight was it easy to see the things she might have tried in order to make things better. Her aching arm against the wall of the plane reminded her she hadn’t exactly been at full capacity when she’d been faced with those critical decisions.

Still, though, the fact remained that if she’d done things differently—if she’d acted earlier, if she’d made sure the government knew exactly how involved Josh had been in Tricorp’s activities, if she’d just done
more
—then maybe things would’ve been better.

She took a steadying breath. She hadn’t asked to be able to do something others couldn’t. She hadn’t asked to be studied, kidnapped, to be put into a position to make these decisions in the first place. These things weren’t part of her plan. They didn’t fit into her tidy idea of running her library in peace. She’d done the best she could with what she was handed. Maybe she’d do things differently if she had to do them over again, make different choices, better ones. But for having gone through it only once, for having been unprepared, she’d done it as best she could.

She’d survived. She thought that maybe she’d even come out on this side better, stronger for what she’d gone through. Jemma shoved away the lingering guilt to deal with later. It wasn’t as if it were the only feeling she’d need to deal with before things could go back to normal, whatever “normal” was now.

When they got home, she’d call her parents, maybe even just swing by their house. Despite all the other messes she knew she needed to get a handle on, including her guilt, she could begin to let go of the fluctuating fear and anger. Seeing Heidi help take Josh into custody had helped; unlike the faceless people Jemma’d had trouble trusting before, with good reason, Heidi was easy to trust, even with her undercover deception. If she said Josh would be kept in jail, if she said they were safe, then they were safe. She had to believe it.

Jemma pulled the notepad out from beside her, moving slowly to avoid waking Jack. Josh had only written on a couple pages, and Jemma had disposed of one of them before they boarded, scattering the pieces into three different trash cans. She hadn’t read that page, but she looked now at this one, at the confidently messy strokes covering half of it.

Now that she’s cooperating, Jemma is showing expected results. Telepathic spikes not quite as strong as under Event conditions, but strong enough that I have hope of gathering enough data to replicate. Possibility still remains that Jemma will form a strong enough bond with me that she’ll be able to communicate with me, as well, allowing me further insight into the matter.

Her comments about his inability to use telepathy himself must have really needled him. And after everything, he’d
still
thought he had a chance with Jemma? It was either that or he believed hate could form a strong enough bond to allow telepathy, given the right conditions. Would Josh have been willing to use his drugs on himself, to risk his warped mind in the attempt to allow them to connect?

Somehow, seeing it from Josh’s perspective helped it really click: it was Josh, not Jemma, at fault. She would rip up this page and flush it down the toilet of the airplane before they landed.

It was where Josh’s twisted thoughts belonged.

***

By the time they’d landed in Atlanta, said goodbye to Myles, and taken another flight home, Jemma was exhausted. Jack, who’d slept for most of the longer flight, got them a taxi back to his place, and he went next door to fill Don in on what had happened. Jemma got on the computer and messaged her mother that everything was okay and she’d see her the next day. Then she messaged Jack a reminder to call the liaison, asking him whether he wouldn’t mind asking when they’d get their own phones and wallets back. She crawled into bed before either could respond, pulled up a book on her temporary phone, and read until her mind was pleasantly numb, filled with other people’s thoughts instead of her own.

The next day, after stopping in to see Don, she drove to her parents’ house. Jack stayed behind with his father after making sure Jemma would be okay. She had her phone and her license back; they’d been delivered to Jack’s house shortly after he’d inquired about them. She parked in front of the Tyler household.

As she looked toward the front door, she remembered how she’d felt that night, so long ago now, that last visit the night of the Event. She’d been so reluctant to see her family, despite her love for them, not sure whether she could handle their exuberance and noise. Now, she’d been through so much more, so many things that made that worry almost laughable.

Now, she was able to appreciate the luxury of being able to visit her family on her terms. She smiled when she got out of the car and saw her mother opening the door. Carolyn met her halfway to the house, wrapping her in a tight hug that Jemma immediately returned. When they separated, Jill had joined them, and she flung her arms around both Carolyn and Jemma, the embrace starting all over again.

“Where’s Jack?” Jill asked when they started toward the house.

“He’s at home with his dad,” Jemma answered. “Thanks again for keeping Don company through all this.”

“No problem,” Jill answered. “He’s a pretty cool guy. You should marry Jack just to be related to his dad.”

“Jilly,” Carolyn scolded while Jill grinned, unrepentant. “So, is all this really over?” she asked, shutting the door behind them. Jemma’s reply was delayed by a hug from her father.

“Yes,” she said finally. “It’s really over this time.” After they all sat around the table, she clarified further. “I mean, we still have the trial and everything, but we’re safe. Everything should go back to normal.”

“Will you get your job back?” Carolyn asked.

“I’m headed to the library after I leave here. Mr. Payton says we shouldn’t have to worry about missing out on a significant amount of work for legal proceedings,” Jemma said, “so I don’t need to be afraid of being unreliable. I’ll see whether they’re able to take me back.”

“They will,” Matthew said, confident. “There’s no way they won’t, especially with you being a hero and all.”

Jemma rubbed at her arm, gently. “I don’t want to get my job back for that reason. I want to go back because I’m good at what I do, because I like my job. I’m not sure which position they’ll give me, assuming they do take me back.”

“They will,” her father repeated. Jemma smiled gratefully.

“So tell us about what’s happened since you’ve been gone,” said Carolyn. “We expected it to take a lot longer, not just a couple days.”

“So did I,” Jemma responded. She filled them in, leaving out only the continued telepathy. Her family seemed appropriately appalled at the repeated kidnappings, both legal and otherwise, and relieved that everything seemed to have been resolved.

“Thank you for keeping us in the loop this time, Jemma.” Matthew’s tone was free of censure, holding only appreciation for her more recent actions. “I know none of this has been easy.”

“You’re my hero,” Jill added. “Did you really head-butt him? Do you think you broke his nose?”

Jemma shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s not exactly something I’ve done before.” She gingerly touched her forehead. “Not something I’m really planning to do again, either.”

Matt and Carolyn excused themselves, leaving Jill and Jemma to chat while their parents figured out lunch.

“Is everything good with you and Jack?” Jill asked as soon as they were alone.

Jemma nodded, her lips pulling up to one side. “We’re good. We haven’t talked much since we got back this time, but we’re good.”

Jill nodded, then grinned. “I think I want to be Heidi when I grow up.”

Laughing, Jemma agreed. “She’s pretty cool. I don’t think I could handle any of what she does, though. Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. I’m looking forward to getting back into my routine, you know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Everything’s pretty much normal again for me.” Jill fiddled with her phone, which was face down on the table. “I mean, not entirely. Stuff changed. People who I thought I was pretty close to before? It’s just been different.”

“I understand. A lot changed.” She fought another laugh as Jill flipped over her phone and replied to a message. “Not everything’s changed though, huh? You’re still pretty tied to your phone.”

“Hey,” Jill protested, not really taking offense to Jemma’s lighthearted teasing, “it’s not like that’s the only way I talk to people.”

“It’s true,” said Matt, coming back into the room. “She does interact in real ways more often than she did before.”

“Really, Dad?” Jilly leveled a skeptical look at her father. “You really think electronics are still a bad way to communicate, after
everything
that’s happened?”