Split Second (Pivot Point #2)

Split Second (Pivot Point #2) Page 16

CHAPTER 18

Laila: Never give anyone the benefit of the doubt.

I counted the money again, even though I knew it hadn’t magically multiplied overnight. I sighed, shoved it back into the toe of my boot, then threw the boot in my closet. It would have to be enough. I would make it be enough. Face wasn’t beyond manipulation.

A shrill scream came from the backyard, and I smiled and looked out my window. A minimal amount of snow had fallen overnight, and my brothers thought they could go sledding on the tiny hill in the back.

I grabbed my scarf, slipped on a pair of wedges, and went to watch them. When the first few runs didn’t work, they decided to gather up as much snow as they could to form a trail just wide enough for the sled. After an hour of hard work and me making fun of them, they actually managed to get in a few decent slides.

“Look, Laila, despite your lack of help, we are the masters of the snow,” Derek called out.

“Was there mastering going on? I missed it.”

Eli threw a snowball at me. It landed perfectly, so that the cold ice leaked beneath my scarf.

I jumped up, shaking off the snow. “Can you read my mind now, Eli?”

“I don’t have to, but you’ll have to catch me first, and I don’t think any running is going on in those shoes.”

He had a valid point. I pretended I was going to chase him, and laughed when both he and Derek squealed like little girls and ran away.

It was one o’clock. I told myself I would go over to Face’s at two and try my luck. I went inside to make some hot chocolate.

“I’m going out,” my dad said just as the door shut, cutting off any chance I had at a response.

“Okay, good to see you too,” I said to nothing.

I filled the kettle and put it on the stove. My phone dug into my thigh, and I pulled it out and looked at it accusingly. I didn’t want to call Connor. It was none of his business what I was doing. Sure he had helped by introducing me to Face, but I definitely didn’t need him there this time. Then why did I feel like I owed him the call to let him know I was going over there today?

My phone rang, and for a second I thought it would be Connor, as if he’d read my mind and knew I was going. But then the caller ID flashed my mom’s number.

“Hello.”

“Hi. I thought I’d be able to come home between shifts, but Susan called in sick and overtime pays the bills.”

“Okay. What time will we see you then?”

“Late. How are things there?”

“Fine. The boys are masters of the snow.”

“I thought they’d like that. Do we need anything?”

“No.”

“Let me talk to your father. I couldn’t reach him on his cell.”

I looked out the window, but his car was already gone. “I would, but he just left like the responsible parent that he is.”

“Laila, give him a break.”

“You give him enough breaks for all of us.”

“If you had his ability . . .”

“Lots of people have his ability and seem to handle it a hundred times better. And he’s not even trying to break the addiction. If he would just do one addiction program . . .” My mom sighed, and I felt guilty. She had enough to deal with. “You’re right. I have no idea how it feels to hear people’s thoughts.” And saying it reminded me it was true. Maybe I’d be exactly like my dad if I were bombarded with people’s innermost thoughts.

“Thank you for trying to understand. I gotta run.”

“Bye, Mom.”

I scooped chocolate powder into some mugs and then poured the hot water over the top. “Masters of the snow, come get your hot chocolate,” I called out the back door.

They ran in and attacked the offering. I tugged on Eli’s arm. “So . . .”

He knew what I was asking. I had given him the new electronic clip the night before, and I wanted to know if it was working.

“Haven’t tried it yet.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“Confidence.”

I had told him the risks of programs not approved by the DAA. Apparently, that was harder for him to overlook than it was for me. “Well, make sure you tell me if you decide to do it.”

He nodded and took another swig of his hot chocolate.

“I’m going out.” I headed down the hall, and Connor’s face flashed through my mind again. Fine, guilt, be a stupid pest. I dialed his number.

“What?” he answered, and I almost hung up, any feeling of obligation gone.

“I’m going to Face’s today. Two o’clock. I don’t need you there.” Then I hung up and ignored the phone when it rang. I reached my bedroom and stopped, horrified, in the open doorway. My entire room was ripped apart. All my clothes pulled from the drawers, my mattress resting crooked on my bed, the contents of my desk spread across the floor, my laundry basket upended.

“No . . . no, no, no, no.” I walked farther in. I knew it was gone, but that didn’t stop me from opening my closet, grabbing my black boot, and reaching all the way to the toe. Empty. Even though I knew exactly which boot it was in, I checked the other one just in case. Nothing. I threw my boot hard at the wall, and it bounced off and hit me on the leg.

I hated my dad. More than hated him, despised him.

I rushed back down the hall and paused by the kitchen. “If Dad happens to show his face here in the next hour or so, call me.”

Eli put down his hot chocolate. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Once in my car, I began dialing my dad’s number every minute. By my third try, I was sure he had turned off the ringer, but I kept at it anyway. Then I started calling his usual hangouts. Then actually driving to his usual hangouts. Apparently, he was smart enough to go somewhere new today. I couldn’t find him anywhere. When I showed up at Face’s house, an hour late, Connor was there. Great.

I must’ve thought about that money at some point today when my dad was around. It was my own fault. I had to protect myself better. Keep him out. Keep everyone out.

At least now I knew I could make money with my ability. I looked at the house. Maybe I could make Face some promises of future payment. My time was running out. I was seeing Addie in one week. I hoped to have advanced my ability by then so I could restore her memory. Maybe it wasn’t too late to start on the DAA track.

I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. Connor must’ve been inside, because only his motorcycle was parked along the curb, his helmet hanging off a handlebar. I knocked on the door and put my flirty face on. This time a man with curly red hair answered. Three rings pierced one eyebrow.

“Is Face here?”

“You’re looking at him.”

“Oh. Right.” I noticed two things I hadn’t before. One was a small blurry spot on the right part of his neck. His image was a little flawed. Not that anyone would notice if they weren’t looking, but it reminded me that there were ways to see through lies. “Not your best look.”

“I don’t take votes.”

The second thing I noticed was, “Your voice is the same.”

“Eh. Too much trouble to change it. I have to be very familiar with another voice, and it’s hardly worth the effort. Most people think it’s a different voice just because it’s a new face.”

“Most people are slow. It’s obvious.”

I didn’t see Connor anywhere, but I didn’t care. I did my best work alone. Especially when I had nothing to work with except my flirting abilities.

“It’s good to see you,” he said. “I’m short on cash.”

“Well, that’s the thing. I had your money, but it got stolen, so I was hoping you could do this first lesson on good faith and I’ll have it for you next week.”

“Well, here’s my thing, I don’t have good faith in anyone except Mr. Cash. I get along well with him. And until he shows up, I won’t do a thing.”

I Erased his memory twice and started over, each time trying something a little different, to no avail. In the end, I Erased myself from his day completely and went outside. An invisible hand felt like it was trying to take my life by squeezing my throat. I crawled in the back of my truck and lay down, staring at the cloudless sky. Maybe this was pointless.

I heard the scuffing of feet before the voice. “And just like that it’s as though you never existed.” Connor’s head appeared over the side of my truck.

I didn’t move.

“Face didn’t even remember you were there. Craziest thing I ever witnessed.”

“You need to get out more.”

“Why would you need to advance your ability when you can do that?”

“Are you mocking me? Because I’m really not in the mood.”

“Bad hair day?”

My hands clenched into fists. “Just leave. I’m not going back in there, so you don’t have to worry that I’m going to ruin your life.”

“Why do you want to advance your ability so badly, anyway?”

I finally looked at him. The smug look on his face just made me angrier. “What about ‘leave’ don’t you understand?”

“Mainly the whole ‘leave’ part.”

“Fine. I’ll leave.” I stood and thought I could get out the same way I got in, over the side. But my foot missed the tire, and I went down hard on my knee. My leggings ripped, and I could feel the moisture from the blood before I saw it. With my knee throbbing, I stood and opened the driver’s-side door. Before I could shut it, though, Connor was there, holding it open with one hand.

“Just leave me alone.” My hands shook, and I clenched them into fists so he wouldn’t notice.

Without a word, he grabbed my leg and used it to turn me toward him.

“I will head-butt you if I have to. I’ve done it before.”

“You are so stubborn.” He took hold of the gaping hole in my leggings and ripped it open further.

He placed his fingers on the bloody mangled mess that was my knee, and we locked eyes. A tingling warmth stretched across my knee, and before I realized what he was doing I almost shoved his hand away. But right as I put my hand on his, it hit me. He was a Healer.

The tingling warmth turned into a searing pain—like fire tearing through my flesh. I squeezed his hand and gritted my teeth. The pain died, and I quickly let go.

Aside from the blood and ripped pants, my knee looked perfect. He had regenerated my skin. Healing was a rare ability. It was no wonder Connor kept it to himself. But that still didn’t explain why he failed all his Para classes when he was obviously very good at it. I pulled my leg away from him. “You should really ask permission before you use your ability on people.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Move so I can shut the door.”

“Who stole your money?”

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop, you know.”

“You’re such a loudmouth it’s hard not to.”

I placed my foot on his chest and was about to shove him out of the way so I could shut my door when he grabbed hold and yanked me off my seat. I landed on the running board that ran the length of my truck and now had to look up to see him.