Tempest. Part 22

"And you never tried again?"

She shook her head. "Nope. And not because he screwed up with the whole condom thing, but mostly because that night all I could think about was ... is David the last boy I'll ever kiss? And I wasn't sure I wanted him to be and then the doubts just kept piling up. Knowing we were going in such different directions, it just didn't feel right."

I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Everything is so deep with you, isn't it?"

She rested her cheek on my chest. "You're deep, too. You just don't want to recognize it. What about all that cla.s.sic literature that you secretly read?"

"That's for school."

"But you chose your major. And, Jackson?"

"Yeah?"

"I really do want to do it," she said.

I touched my lips to her shoulder and closed my eyes, not responding. I knew that had to be a hard thing for her to admit, but I had my own concerns.

"Jackson?"

I sighed heavily, then rested my head back on the pillow. "Maybe another time."

"Like one that's more perfect than tonight?" She loosened her hold on me and started to move away.

"I just don't want to hurt you," I said, barely above a whisper.

The idea that she might not enjoy this was turning me in the other direction. I couldn't remember the last time I had been with a virgin, even just messing around. Maybe never.

She started kissing every inch of my body while I was deep in thought. Her hands were doing things that made my brain completely void of logical reason. I groaned and covered my face. "Holly, what are you doing?"

"Think about it this way, Jackson. Are you saying you want me to go find some other guy?" Her voice was light, teasing.

"No."

"Then you want to dump me for some loose chick?"

"Of course not."

"I see no other way forward, unless you're okay with celibacy."

"Of course not."

She laughed and then put her hands on the sides of my face. Her forehead touched mine. "I want it to be you."

"Why?"

She kissed my lips. "Because ... I just do, okay?"

I had a pretty good idea what she had almost said. The three words that neither of us had uttered. "You have to tell me if I hurt you. Do you swear?"

My hands were already shaking. She picked one up and placed it over her heart. "I swear."

"All right."

She kissed my cheek. "I don't think I've ever seen you this nervous."

I was nervous. And I'd never done anything so slow in my entire life. She teased me about being an expert at putting on a condom, so I told her I practiced when I was younger, which was true when I was, like, fourteen. Somehow, Holly and I managed to make a scary and awkward moment incredibly funny.

As far as the actual s.e.x part, to me, it was great. I think mostly because Holly is never fake. And she has this way of making me feel like I'm part of something important. Like we're always making a memory. One you'd never be able to erase. For me, I'm all impulse. Whatever the h.e.l.l I feel like doing at any given moment, I do it. But I had a feeling Holly had thought this night through and played it out in her mind for a long time. The fact that she was willing to include me was just beyond cool.

We hopped into the shower together, later on, and she stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around my neck, squeezing me so tight. Her face was buried in my chest, the water running over us, and I thought that she might be crying, the way she hid her face. But I was too afraid to ask. We stayed like that, holding each other, for a while. Then she finally whispered, "Thank you."

That was the first time I ever even thought about saying it ... I love you. It would have been perfect, just melting into the moment. Not like some overplayed drama. But my tongue tied up just thinking it, not knowing if it was really true or not, so instead I said, "Did you know you have a freckle on your-"

She put a hand over my mouth. "Yeah, I know."

Then we were laughing again, and it set the tone for the whole night. Holly sat on the kitchen counter, listening to my jokes, while I made scrambled eggs. She looked so gorgeous, wrapped up in my blue bathrobe, her hair wet and her cheeks still flushed.

Looking back on it now, I could have stretched that moment out for weeks and been completely content. Maybe even months.

Nothing went exactly right. And yet it was perfect.

I was so engrossed in my recollection of 009 Holly, I hadn't even noticed that 007 Holly was breathing deep and drooling on my sweats.h.i.+rt. I released her hand and put my arm around her, bringing her closer so her head wasn't on the hard ground. She stirred for a minute, then lifted her head.

"I fell asleep, didn't I?"

I smiled when she wiped the s...o...b..r from her face with her sleeve. "Might as well get a nap in while you're cutting cla.s.s, right?"

She sat all the way up and her cheeks turned pink. "Sorry. I'm one of those people who could sleep in the middle of traffic, honking horns and everything."

"Lots of homework last night, I guess?"

"Yeah, and studying for the SATs. I'm going to take them in a few weeks."

I sat up across from her. "I did okay on mine. I'm still willing to help you."

"Define 'okay.'"

"1970."

Her eyebrows arched up. "That's a really good score. I need a 1900 to get into NYU and I'd like to do better than that so I can get a scholars.h.i.+p, hopefully."

"I'm sure you'll do great. In fact, I'm nearly positive."

"A little extra help couldn't hurt," she said with a smile.

She started leaning forward like she might try to kiss me and I wanted to dive in with both feet, but something inside me tensed up. Something different than Adam's warning. Was it possible to cheat on Holly with Holly? Was she too young to be kissing someone my age? Would it be the same as kissing my Holly?

I chickened out of making a decision and stood up, holding my hand out for her. "Let's go for a walk. Maybe that'll wake you up a little."

She got up from the ground after tossing the blanket into her bag. "Where are we going?"

I smiled when she didn't release my hand. In fact, she gripped it even tighter as we strolled toward the sidewalk. "Have you ever been to Shakespeare's Garden?"

"Nope."

"It's not far from here."

When we arrived, Holly walked up to the first plaque to read the writing and as I moved toward her, a short man with red hair brushed past me and said in a low voice, "Nice to see you again, Jackson."

I sucked in a breath, trying to focus despite the blood pounding in my ears as he slowly turned around to face me. It was him, looking exactly the same as he had two years from now when he charged into Holly's dorm room. Then he was walking again. His pace picked up with longer and faster steps, and without even thinking about it, I took off after him.

Instinctively, I reached for my pocketknife and clenched it in my fist. His fast walk turned into a light jog and I ran after him, not saying a word as he led me off the path, toward a different part of the park, thick with trees.

My pulse raced, matching the beat of my steps. Without any indication he had been aware of my presence behind him, he froze, right in front of a tree, and lifted his hands in the air as if he were giving up. "I was hoping you would follow me."

I took a step closer. Maybe this was a trap and maybe he had a better weapon than an old pocketknife, but I was too furious to care. As he turned, I studied his face carefully and nearly had a heart attack when I saw the gash above his left eye, fresh blood still streaming from it. And the red mark. A shoe print. Holly's shoe print.

009 Holly's shoe print.

It couldn't be a coincidence. Could it? "How did you ... I don't..."

My voice faded as the man held my gaze with an expression far too calm compared with the roiling emotions I felt.

"Jackson ... what are you ... doing?" Holly sputtered out from behind me, her breath coming out jagged, probably from running after me.

I glanced quickly over my shoulder and then back at the man, trying to figure out a way to word my question. "How did you ... get here? From there?"

His eyebrows lifted and a slow grin spread across his face. "Interesting. Why don't you tell me how you got here?"

I wanted to punch the grin right off his face, but then Holly gasped behind me and I spun around to see a tall blond woman with one of her arms locked tightly around Holly's throat.

Nausea swept over me. G.o.d, this can't be happening again. And where the h.e.l.l had that woman even come from?

"Rena, I thought you'd be here sooner," the man said, like she was late for dinner or a dentist appointment.

"Things were a little different than we expected," she said.

My eyes darted between the two of them and then rested on Holly's face. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but the panic in her eyes, as she squirmed to get out of Rena's grip, sent me over the edge. She tried to kick free. I had to do something.

I snapped my pocketknife open at the same time the man behind me shouted, "Watch out, Rena!"

But it wasn't me he was worried about. In a blur, a man flew out of the bushes, landing hard on Rena's back and putting her in the same choke hold she had used on Holly. Suddenly Rena's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell over sideways onto the ground, taking her victim and attacker down with her. Holly pulled herself free and stood. She let out a breath of relief and bent over, resting her hands on her knees.

"Don't even think about pulling one of your little tricks," a female voice said from behind me and Holly.

We both turned around and my jaw dropped open when I saw my father's secretary, Miss Stewart, execute a perfect roundhouse kick. Her knee-high leather boot connected with the red-haired man's face, sending him stumbling backward into the woods. Fas.h.i.+onable women's shoes: 2. Redheaded man: 0.

She took off running after him.

I turned back the other way. Holly raced over to me and my arms immediately went around her. She looked just as stunned and confused as I felt. My dad was pulling himself off the ground and I quickly let my thoughts catch up and realized he was the man who had just saved Holly, moving so fast I never even saw his face.

"What the h.e.l.l-" I started to say to Dad, but he was mumbling something in another language into his sleeve.

He rested a hand on Holly's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Her eyes were huge as she backed away from him. One hand still clutched her chest, the other reached into her pocket and pulled out the bottle of pepper spray she always carried with her.

Dad held up his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said.

I didn't know who to believe and I had the sudden urge to s.n.a.t.c.h the bottle from Holly and spray him with it, just in case.

"Are you all right, Jackson?" he asked me.

I stared down at the woman lying in a heap on the ground and then at Holly, who seemed to be putting two and two together and coming to the conclusion that I knew these people, and that I was involved. She lifted the bottle of pepper spray and pointed it in my direction.

"Easy, Holly. I only know as much as you do," I said. She eased the pepper spray to her side.

Miss Stewart returned, followed by a man close to my dad's age.

"The target got away," the man said.

"It's not like he outran us. What the h.e.l.l are we supposed to do if he just-"

Dad put up a hand to quiet her, and then pressed his finger to his ear, holding perfectly still for about ten seconds. "Deal with our sleepy blond friend," he said to the guy who had just shown up.

The guy hoisted the blond woman over his shoulder and took off.

"Don't move, young lady," Dad said firmly to Holly, who was backing farther away, toward an escape.

Fresh tears ran down her face and she looked more scared than I'd ever seen her. Her fingers moved over the keypad of her cell phone.

"Stewart, clear the area and we'll meet at the designated location," Dad said to his secretary. The second she was out of sight, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone and the pepper spray from Holly's hands. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions about what you just saw, but we can't discuss them out in the open."

Dad placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, toward a path that led to the street.

"What are you doing?" I asked him. I didn't want him touching her.

"Just making sure she gets home safe and sound." He continued to walk her toward the sidewalk. "We've already made quite a scene here and I'd rather not have any more slipups."

She cooperated for a few seconds, then she stepped on his foot, hard, and jabbed him right in the groin with her elbow. Dad didn't even wince from Holly's pint-sized torture. He was now holding on tighter to her shoulders and steering her toward a car parked on the street.

"Please, just let me go and I'll ... I won't say anything ... please," she said quietly.

"I promise, no one is going to hurt you," Dad said, then he removed his wallet and flipped it open, revealing a badge with his picture on the top and the letters CIA down the side. "I'll explain everything in just a minute."

We had reached the long black car and I debated grabbing Holly and making a run for it, but this was our car, with our driver, Cal, who had just taken me to the Met this morning.