I twist, but I can’t break his hold. With one arm, I reach for the site of the energy. Like a kid paying with fire, I get closer and closer to the heat, daring it to burn me. Could I feel the workers’ horror in my fingers alone?
“Betts, don’t. Please!” Leo wrangles my arms. “Don’t put yourself through that again.”
I argue with him as he drags me away. “It’s not real. It can’t be.” The graveyard I could handle, butthis, this is just too much.
“Betts.” He brings us to a halt and grips me by the shoulders. “Itisreal. I know you don’t want it to be, but it is.” He brushes a thumb under my eyes.
Good god, am I crying? Why am I crying? I bury my face in his shoulder and wipe my wet cheeks on his coat.
It’s real. Like walking through the draft from an open window, Leo and I passed right through the energy of those men’s fear.
And I felt it.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, pulling me close. “I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but it still did.” When I go limp in his arms, he sighs. Stroking my hair, he whispers against my temple, more than once, “I’m so sorry.”
I want to crawl inside him and hide.
Neither of us seems willing to let the other go. Hours could pass, other hikers could go by, the sun could set, and I wouldn’t notice any of it. All I’m aware of is him. In his cocoon, I’m safe from the ugliness out there. From the frightening emotions.
From the truth about myself.
“I can’t do this, Leo. I don’t want to be psychic.”
“I know.” He smooths my tangled hair from my face and cups my cheek. “But you can get control of it. I promise you I’ll help you. Whatever it takes.”
Footsteps clomp on the bridge nearby, startling us. We jump out of our embrace and look everywhere else but at one another. As several hikers pass by, one woman checks Leo out. When she flashes me a grin and a wink, I start giggling. And then I can’t stop.
By the time Leo returns from collecting our stuff off the ground, he’s chuckling too. “Easier to let them think we were being naughty,” he says with a shrug.
Yeah, try explaining to strangers what really happened to me.
There’s something pale pink in Leo’s hand. I touch my bare head. “When did I lose my hat?”
“I don’t know, but here—” He gently pulls it down on my head, leaning back to assess his work and making adjustments until it’s properly positioned.
“Thank you.”
His smile is tender. “You’re welcome.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The pathon the other side of the river is definitely a challenge, but it’s also more scenic. The leaves and underbrush are lush and vibrant, the greens rich and the browns warm. A chilly breeze nips my skin as the river rushes past in streams of gray and white—a fitting backdrop for my restless thoughts.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to go back to my regular life. To classes or to Zander and O-Chi. To routine concerns like what sweater goes with which jeans or what to eat at the dining hall. Nothing is as it was and I suddenly feel like I don’t fit anywhere—except here. And except with Leo.
“You okay back there?” he asks.
I nearly barrel into him before I notice he’s stopped walking. “I’m fine. I’m just?—”
“Thinking?”
“Yeah.” Thinking. About my whole life, on each side of now.
In retrospect, I wonder if all those times I thought I was suffering from a panic attack or a wave of depression were my clairsentience instead, picking up emotions from the past. I wish I could remember them all. How often have I passed through the space where a carwreck had occurred, or sat at a restaurant table where a marriage-ending argument took place?
Leo leans close. “Give it time, Betts. You’re not going to have it all figured out in one afternoon.”
Sure I will, I just need to think even harder. I can’t spend the rest of my life worrying that, at any time, I could walk into some random energy field and collapse under a barrage of emotions. Obviously, my amethyst isn’t strong enough to absorb the intense stuff. Maybe I should try medication. How much Prozac would it take to numb me to that logging accident?
