Gifted Connections 2

Maybe after I turned 21 and received my inheritance from my father’s death, I could buy a bike with it. I would have to make sure I set some of it, if not most of it, away for the kids. I knew Will would always take care of us, but having a rainy-day fund would make me feel better.

I had been so lost in my musings, I hadn’t noticed we had hopped back off the interstate and headed to a picturesque little town. We got off onto a side road and headed towards a cemetery. I was confused when he finally stopped the bike and helped me off. He took my hand and placed our helmets on the bike. I wanted to gush about the thrill I had just felt. I wanted to ask him to teach me how to ride, but I knew now was not the time or place.

He led me towards a little angel head stone. A plaque beneath it read Anna Mae Pierce. I read the date of birth and the date of death and gasped. She had only been six years old when she died, and the anniversary of her death had been yesterday.

“Anna was my baby sister,” Remy finally spoke. His voice was scratchy from his prolonged silence. He sat down in front of her tombstone and brought his knees up to his chest, bracing his arms across them. “I never knew my dad. My mother was a lot like your step mother. She loved to drink and do drugs. We lived in a rundown, hovel of a trailer park. Molly, my cousin, lived right next door.

“My mom met my step dad when I was nine. She got pregnant shortly thereafter. He hated me. He beat me for shits and giggles. Especially when he drank, and he drank a lot. Molly moved in with us when she was ten, I was thirteen. Her dad and mom were in jail again, and the state placed her with her only living relative.

“Together, we p

retty much raised Anna. She was—" He cleared his throat, and I knew he was trying not to get emotional. I sat down beside him and started to run my nails across his back, trying to sooth him. “She was such an angel. She was such a good baby and little girl. At thirteen, I knew I had to get us out of there.

“I started picking up odd jobs here and there. I was always a tall kid and looked older. There were plenty of places that would hire me and pay me under the table. I hadn’t realized until nearly a year later that the sick bastard had been molesting Molly, but by then it was too late. One of her teachers saw what I couldn’t. She called the cops. The state placed her with a nice family in the gifted community. We hadn’t realized at the time how befitting it was. Since Molly hadn’t gotten her gifts until she was thirteen.

“They put him in jail for one year, because there was no physical evidence. He never left any physical evidence. My mom denied all of Molly’s accusations. She gave him an alibi. The day he got out of jail, my mom was supposed to take Anna trick or treating. I was working. She never told me he was getting released that day, that she was going to get him and bring him home.

“When I got home. I couldn’t find Anna. I looked all over. My mom and my step dad were passed out on the couch. I finally called the cops and…” He paused, putting a fist to his mouth and tried to control his emotions once again. “Anna decided to go trick or treating by herself. She was with a group of friends. She wanted to be a black bat that year. When I bought her costume, I didn’t think about broken street lights and visibility. They were out past the time they should have been. She was running across a busy street and didn’t look both ways. She was hit by a car. She died instantaneously.” He paused once more, and I hugged him from behind.

“At first, I had to deal with the pain of losing her, for blaming myself. I should have requested the night off. I shouldn’t have bought her that costume. I should have known better,” he continued. “Then we got to see the police records. The other man was an influential, successful businessman, he truly wasn’t at fault. There was no way he could have seen my sister. My step dad and mom tried to sue him for their pain and suffering, and they went after the state, too, for not maintaining the broken street lights in that part of town.

“And they won. The day they won, they were celebrating and bragging about everything they could get. I confronted them. I told them I was going to the police and telling them that they neglected their daughter, that they didn’t even know where she had been. My step dad came after me, but I was bigger now. I knew I was stronger. I felt this surge every now and then. My fear and anger must have triggered my gift.

“I picked my step dad up and threw him through the window. I went outside and started beating on him. It took ten men to pull me off him. The lawyer had my charges dropped after I told her why I had gone in a rage. I showed her my scars on my back from his past beatings.

“He lived, but he’s living in a wheel chair. My mom chose him over me. She gave me up to the state.

“Will read about a 135 pound, 15-year-old boy who threw a 240 pound man through a window, nearly killing him. I sat in front of Judge Myers that morning and was given a not-guilty verdict, and by that afternoon he had placed me in the care of Pops.”

“I’m so sorry, Remy,” I was sobbing by the end of the story. “I know that sorry doesn’t help or bring her back, though.”

He turned and embraced me, and I could feel his shoulders shaking. We sat there in that cemetery for a long time. Drawing from each other. Seeking the comfort, we longed for.

“Sometimes I feel that same monster rising within me, and I’m afraid I might lose control,” Remy said as we sat together on an outside patio of a quaint little diner in town.

We were hungry, so we stopped to get some brunch. It was a surprisingly mild day, so we elected to eat outside. I ordered a sausage, spinach, and feta omelet, while Remy ordered pancakes, over-easy eggs, bacon, sausage, home fries, and rye toast.

I took a sip of my coffee. “We all have a monster within in us,” I said resolutely. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But my monster can hurt people,” Remy stated dryly.

I rolled my eyes. “So, can mine. You were just trying to exact justice.”

He snorted at me.

He was silent for a little while, before he said pensively. “I hate the fact that you were taken from us, but I’m glad that bastard didn’t have the opportunity to try and rape you again, or that other girl. I felt nothing but satisfaction when I got the chance to kill him the second time, but now none of that happened, so he’s still out there.”

I paused with the fork next to my mouth. I had begun to realize the guys had started getting their memories back. They would drop tidbits of information like this all the time. My stomach cramped up. “I never thought about that. I wonder if Will could find him for us. He needs to be taken off the streets before he can harm anyone else.” I pushed my plate away, losing my appetite.

Remy cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry, Blake. I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.” He picked me up and placed me on his lap. “The first time I disappeared, I couldn’t handle my anger seeing the way you had lived. You reminded me too much of me, of Molly. I had to get away. I had become good at hiding my feelings, repressing memories, but they were all coming back. The second time I disappeared, it was around the anniversary of her death. I have never disappeared to be with anyone else, since Drake confirmed our connection the first time.

“Molly showed up the other night, and she wanted to know if I wanted to go visit Anna with her. After she was buried, I refused to visit her grave. I purchased the angel for her about four years after she died. My mom and her dad never bothered to get her a headstone, but I still didn’t want to visit her.

“In my mind, she isn’t there. Her body is, but her soul has moved on. She’s happy now. Molly tries to get me to go with her every year, but I can’t. I don’t want to see her grieving. I don’t want to remember that Anna was taken too soon.

“I know I don’t handle emotions well. I know I’m known for shutting people out. I need time to myself to lick my wounds and come back when I feel mentally capable. I don’t like talking about my feelings.

“I realize now, I can’t shut you out,” he stroked my arm. “We almost lost you yesterday, because I couldn’t answer my damn phone.”