The Saving Angels Series: Books 1-3 (12 page)

“Please let go,” I pleaded, closing my eyes to try to stop the sickness as it began to engulf me.

“Oof,” I heard him grunt.

I felt his fingers slide off my arm; I opened my eyes in relief. I was shocked to find Matt on his knees in front of me. Mark was standing over him with a deadly look on his face. He had the fingers that had been pressed around my arm bent completely back.

“If you ever touch her again, I will kill you,” he said in a quiet lethal voice. “If you even look at her, you will regret it, do you understand me?” To emphasize his point, he pushed Matt’s fingers back even further.

Matt let out a whimper of pain.

Mark abruptly released his hold. “Get to class.
Now
,” he threatened.

Matt got to his feet. With one last dirty look at both of us, he was gone.

Mark and I stood there for a moment. Then I felt the wave return, I knew I was going to be sick. I needed to get to a bathroom, and quick. Turning away, I fled, barely making it to the toilet before I retched horribly. Everything I ate that day insisted on coming up, until eventually, I was left heaving out nothing. When the wave passed, I rested my forehead on the side of the stall.

“What can I do?”

I cracked my eyes open. Oh God, he had followed me into the bathroom. I wanted to die of mortification. I didn’t want him to see me like this.

“Water,” I croaked.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

I rose on shaky legs and headed to the sink. Turning the cold water on, I cupped my hands and splashed water on my face. My cheeks were deep red and burned painfully.

“Did he hurt you?” Mark asked, as he handed me a bottle of water.

“No, I got sick because my emotions overtook me.”

“Is it always
like
that?” he asked, concern now coloring his words.

“It used to be, but over the years I’ve learned how to control it. This was different; it was a combination of feelings. I was embarrassed, scared, and very angry. Plus, because he was touching me, I got to deal with all of his loathing feelings. When I have that many emotions, it’s hard to fight back the sickness,” I said weakly. My body felt like it had gone through a ringer.

Mark lightly grabbed onto my elbow and guided me down the hall to an unused classroom. He helped me to a desk and sat across from me with concern still etched on his face.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, rubbing the side of my face. “Do you need anything else?”

I rested my pounding head against the palm of his hand. His touch was instantly soothing and the pounding receded to a dull throb.

“He’s going to go to the Dean,” I muttered.

“No, I don’t think he will. He doesn’t want to look like a weakling. He’s not going to admit to anyone that I got the better of him. He may try to get revenge in one way or another, but I’m pretty sure he is smart enough to stay away from you from now on.”

“I’ve never seen anyone look at someone with such menace. You looked like you could have killed him.”

“I wanted to. It was all I could do to control my rage. I have never felt that way. I can’t explain what it did to me to see his hands on you and to hear you pleading for him to let you go,” he said.

I could still feel the anger radiating off of him. I placed my hands on his face to soothe him. After a moment, I could feel the tension sliding away from his body. And with one last shudder, the last of his anger left as I dropped my hands.

“It’s a good thing I don’t have a sixth period class,” he said as he settled back in his chair. Looking down, he used the edge of his thumbnail to scrape an old piece of tape off the side of the desk.

I watched him silently for a few moments, sensing he was embarrassed by his reaction to Matt. I should have felt angry that Mark had resorted to violence. I had always been against any kind of violence and had always shied away from it. But I wasn’t, I felt Matt deserved it and was touched by the intensity of Mark’s emotions for me.

“I don’t feel like heading to class, I think I’m going to tell the school nurse I’m sick. I’ll wait for Sam at the park. Will you tell her for me?” I asked him.

“Sure, I’ll send a note to her seventh period class. Do you want me to walk you over?”

“No, I think we’ve caused enough trouble today, we don’t want to push the Dean any further.”

Mark held out his hand to help me out of my chair. Once I was on my feet, he pulled me in his arms.

“I’m sorry you got so sick.”

“It comes with the territory, I’m just sorry you had to watch,” I grimaced, thinking that he had definitely seen me at my worse. Nothing was grosser than watching someone throw-up.

“I’ve got to head back to class. Mr. Jackson wants me to go into more detail about the concentration camps and the role the Nazis had in them. I’ll meet you at your house after my meeting,” he said as he leaned down to peck me on the cheek.

I raised my hand to my cheek after he left the room. My skin tingled where his lips had touched me. I paused a moment to catch my breath and tried to gather my thoughts. Maybe my peck earlier had given him a push in the right direction.

I got the okay to go home from the school nurse and walked the half a block to the park, slowly taking in my surroundings as I walked. I loved seeing so much color; exotic flowers bloomed everywhere I looked. Back home spring would be on its way, but up north it was always a little slow to begin. Here, it already looked like the middle of summer. I watched as two birds fought over the same tasty treat on one of the lawns and smiled when the smaller one came out the victor.

By the time I reached the park, my depleted energy was obvious and I gratefully settled on a low park bench that sat directly in the sun. I knew the heat from the sun would chase away the chills that always followed a bad episode.

With drowsy eyes I watched the only occupants at the park. Most were young mothers who were chasing after their small toddlers. By the squeals of delight they gave out each time they were caught, this was obviously a favorite game.

I smiled as I rested my head back and closed my eyes. The sun felt wonderful beating down on my face. The sounds of the children faded away, as I slipped into a nice peaceful slumber.

I dreamed about him. Not the usual dream where we stood on our beach, but a more personal one where we were kissing. The dream was so real; I could feel the heat of his breath as he fanned kisses across the plains of my face. Each kiss left just the slightest bit of electricity across my face where his lips had touched. I felt warmth spreading up through my toes and expanding through all my limbs.

I opened my eyes and saw the object of my fantasy sitting beside me.

I flushed slightly. Could he tell that I had been dreaming about him kissing me? It was a surreal feeling to be dreaming about him one moment, only to awaken with him beside me.

I sat up straighter, but grimaced when I felt a pinch in my neck from being in one position too long. Glancing at my watch, I was surprised to see that school was over.

“I thought you had a meeting?”

“I do. I just walked Sam over. I wanted to check on you before I headed to the meeting.”

At his words, I noticed Sam standing to the side for the first time. Her face was clouded over.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“It must have been pretty bad if you threw up,” Sam said.

“What do you mean? Krista said throwing up is normal,” Mark interrupted.

I pleaded with Sam with my eyes to drop it.

Sam ignored my silent plea and plunged on. “He has to know Krista,” Sam said. “We made a pact that we would share everything. We’re never going to figure out the connection if we keep things from each other.”

I knew she was right. We could have no secrets, but I also didn’t want him worrying about me unnecessarily.

“We only throw-up when our emotions are completely out of control, and usually only when we’re scared. Trust me, growing up I threw-up many times from fear. Matt must have scared Krista a lot for her to get so sick,” Sam added.

“Is that true?” Mark demanded.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, “When I was younger, my parents sheltered me a lot when they figured out how sensitive I was. They found out early on, it was worse when I was scared. So, they made sure I was never frightened. I wasn’t expecting him to grab onto me, and it startled me. I didn’t mean to deceive you, you just seemed so mad already. I didn’t want to add to it.”

“You can’t keep things from me. You have to trust me with everything,” Mark said quietly. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, the heat from the sun and the nap gave me back my strength,”

Mark glanced at his watch, swearing softly as he stood up. “I have to go, but we’re going to talk about this again later.”

He turned to Sam, “Did you call your foster mom?”

“Yes, she’s on her way. She went home and packed an overnight bag for me. She said she would give us a ride to Krista’s house.”

“Good,” he said.

“I’ll see you both in awhile; make sure she takes it easy until I get there,” he told Sam as he turned and walked away.

After he left, Sam sat down next to me. “Are you mad at me?” she asked, gnawing on the inside of her lip.

I shook my head. “I should have told him the truth earlier, but I thought he would kill Matt. I have never seen someone so mad before. It was radiating off of him. Matt could feel it also. I could tell he was scared of Mark. To tell you the truth, I was glad he was scared, now maybe he will leave us alone.”

Beeeeep!

Sam and I looked up.

“Oh, there’s my foster mom.”

We both grabbed our school bags and headed toward the sleek BMW that was idling at the curb. Sam opened the car door and introduced me.

“Krista, this is Karen, my foster mom. Mom, this is Krista.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Krista, thanks for keeping our girl company this past week. My husband and I have been up to our eyeballs in the case we’re handling. I can’t wait until the trial is over. Once it is, we can return the favor and you can stay overnight. Sam has talked about you non-stop and we’re so happy you moved here.”

“I am too,” I said as I settled into the plush leather seats of the BMW. Boy, their car made ours look like a matchbox car, I thought as I inhaled the rich smell of the leather seats. “Otherwise, Sam and I would have never met,” I continued on.

“She’s a special girl and we’re glad you’re friends.”

Sam flushed at Karen’s words. I couldn’t help wondering if compliments about her had been few and far between growing up. Were these foster parents the first to ever show any interest in her?

I felt an unfamiliar feeling of anger well up inside me. Why did parents abandon their children? Did they not care about the life they were condemning their children to? Sure, I had lucked out, but what about poor Sam.

Karen pulled her car up in front of my house. Sam and I piled out while Karen popped the trunk open so Sam could grab her overnight bag. She handed Sam some money and told her to have a good time.

We stowed Sam’s bags on the floor in my room before we headed back to the sitting room to listen to music. I turned the volume down so I could fill Sam in on what she had missed.

“So, what’s the Dean going to do?” Sam asked after she heard all the details.

“Mark’s not sure, he’s on some kind of probation and if word gets out about what he did to Matt, I’m sure the Dean would discontinue his study. We need to be careful over the next few months. I don’t want to ruin his whole career.”

“That Matt’s a snake,” Sam muttered. “I wish I could have seen the look on his face when Mark grabbed his hand.”

For the first time since it had happened, I could smile and appreciate the fact that Matt had gotten a taste of his own medicine for once.

“You’ve got a point. You should have seen the look on his face. I thought he was going to wet his pants.”

Both of us burst out laughing at the thought of Matt walking through the hall with wet pants. The
Lush Trio
wouldn’t think he was so hot then.

“I don’t see Matt letting this slide,” Sam said, sobering both of us up.

“I know. He can’t be trusted.”

“So, your foster mom seems nice.” I said, changing the subject.

“Yeah, they’re both nice; I lucked out when they placed me with them. They act like they like me or something.”

“They do like you, you’re easy to like. All your other foster parents were just too stupid to realize it,” I stated.

Embarrassed by the compliment, Sam stood up and started browsing through the books that lined the shelves. I turned up the music and picked up my current book, giving Sam privacy to digest the compliment. Sam selected a book and settled into the chair next to me.

I peeked over at Sam whose cheeks were still slightly flushed; I looked down and began to read my own book. We sat in compatible silence. After a while, Sam looked up. “I’m glad we’re friends,” she said simply.