POSSESSION, Book 1 in the Possession Trilogy

Chapter 23

23.

Before I processed the L-word, Jag’s mouth caught mine. He moved with precision, slipping his hands around to the small of my back. His touch felt dangerous.

He kissed my jaw up to my ear and murmured, “Violet.”

It didn’t bother me; if anything, I loved my whole name when he spoke it in his velvety voice. I forgot everything except that he was here with me, and we would always be together. I shivered at the thought.

“You cold?” he whispered, his lips brushing mine.

“A little,” I said, but the shaking came more from nerves. I’d never thought beyond kissing. Good girls don’t even go that far. Stealing and trespassing tops the list of Bad Stuff I’ve Done.

His blanket lay thickly between us, a barrier I couldn’t cross. His hair slid through my fingers like silk.

“You’re nervous,” he murmured, and that raised the embarrassment factor.

“How do you know?” I trailed my fingers along his jaw.

“I can hear your heart racing,” he said.

He could hear my heart? Like super hearing to go with his super voice?

I pushed him away. “What does that mean?”

His hands rested on my waist. “I can hear your heart beating, that’s what it means.”

“Nobody can hear a heart beating,” I said. “I can’t hear yours.”

“I can feel your feelings too.”

“Do you have high-class smell as well?”

He laughed, and I curled into his chest to feel the reverberations from that wonderful sound.

“I’m not a superhero.”

He was to me. It felt safe to lie in his arms, his hand massaging my shoulder. I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of his skin. He smelled musky and clean. Very guy. He hummed a soft melody, sending sound waves from his chest into my cheek.

“I love you, Vi,” he said, kissing my forehead. “I really do.”

Knowing I loved him too, I wanted to tell him, but my voice didn’t work the way his did. Those three tiny words choked in my throat, and I couldn’t get them out. I pulled away so I could see him better.

“Jag, I—”

“I know. Lie back down, that was nice.”

Jag fell asleep. I lay next to him, thinking about what we needed to do next. I wondered what business the Director and my dad needed to finish, afraid it might have something to do with me. My dad could’ve invented who-knows-what over the past seven years—and I know from first-hand experience that his tech-inventions aren’t always pleasant. But they do require extensive testing. Could that be why he hadn’t immediately teleported here?

After a half hour of listening to Jag’s steady breathing, I took his book with me into the bathroom. With the tub full of steaming water, I settled in to read what Lyle Schoenfeld—whoever he was—had to say.

I plowed through a mind-numbing chapter analyzing the effectiveness of tech in the daily life of an average person. Boring.

I flipped to the second section, which detailed how to break tech. Teleporters can be damaged so nothing can be received or sent. Silencers can be reversed, amplifying sounds. Walls can be reprogrammed to keep secrets and reveal incorrect information.

Tags can be removed.

As I read and re-read that chapter, I decided that Lyle Schoenfeld was not my dad. A book like this was dangerous, and no one in the Goodgrounds would allow it to be published. No, Lyle had to be part of Jag’s Resistance, a Baddie, someone who wanted Goodies to question their Thinkers. Thane could’ve assumed his identity during the separation, but he and Lyle were two very different men.

I thought about the farmhouse where Jag had stolen the book. How did that farmer get it? Was he a Free Thinker too? Or someone like Zenn—an Insider?

 I wanted to ask Zenn—or my dad. There were so many things I needed to ask them. So many uncertainties swirled inside my mind. Zenn loved me, I knew he did. I’d heard it hiding between his words, seen it in the careful way he’d acted around me.

My dad loved me too, even if he watched me with more interest now. Even if he was a Director.

I shook my head to erase the questions that kept piling up. I’d see them both soon enough, and I’d get my answers one way or another. I focused on the book, on how to remove my tag.

The procedure required a special tool—also a feat of tech—a pair of shock scissors. I wondered if I could get my hands on something like that here. Of course I would need some surgery skin to eat away my flesh, and then some kind of regenerator to grow it back, but—

“Vi?” Jag’s soft voice called from the other room. I’d been soaking so long, the water in the tub was cold. I stepped out, careful not to get the book wet, and wrapped a towel around myself.

“In here,” I whispered. He had switched the lamp on and was rubbing his eyes when I came into the bedroom.

“Hey.”

I slipped the book back onto the table next to his bed. “I didn’t get it wet.”

“Not. That.” His eyes raked over my only-towel-covered body with a hungry expression.

“Knock it off.” I pulled the towel tighter and returned to the bathroom. He followed me, putting his hand on the door before I could close it. I looked anywhere but at him. Lying fully clothed in bed with him was bad enough.

I couldn’t help it when I drank him in, starting at his feet and slowly creeping up to his neck, past his chin, lips, and nose to his eyes. When I finally reached them, my heart clutched almost painfully. I swallowed hard and cleared my throat, playing with the end of my towel.

“Vi, babe—”

“Don’t talk like that,” I said.

He smiled his Jag-winner. I took a shuddering breath and tried to focus. “Don’t smile like that either. It’s not fair.”

“Okay, then. Let’s talk about being fair.” He carefully wove his fingers through mine. The way he studied the ground was adorable. He took a few slow steps back into the bedroom, pulling me with him.

“Jag—”

He suddenly stopped, his fingers fumbling along mine. He looked up. “You’re still wearing it?” Anguish drowned out the shock in his voice.

Zenn’s ring glinted in the lamplight.