Tormented (Evolution Series Book 2) (8 page)

A few seconds later, Chelsea glared at me, letting me know that she was still pissed off, before turning her gaze to a small string hanging from the pillow on her lap.

“You know, you could have changed her attitude while you were in there,”
I said to Aiden.

“And you know I only do that sort of thing when absolutely necessary
.
And besides, it won’t take her too long to forgive you. She’s already folding.”

He was right. Chelsea wanted so badly to run over and give me a hug, but she also wanted me to know that what I did was not on. And yeah, she was right. I should have called her at least once to let her know that I was okay. But I hadn’t, so I guessed I deserved her acting that way towards me.

“Well, this is… uncomfortable,”
Ben
said, shifting in his seat. He glanced over at Chelsea. She didn’t return his gaze. She was too fixated with the little thread on the pillow. “Do you guys want anything to drink?” He stood up before we even had a chance to respond. “Chelsea, come help me with the drinks.”

She made no attempt to move, so Ben reached down, grabbed her hand, and pulled her to her feet.

“Okay, okay,” she said grumpily.

The two of them ducked into the kitchen, just off the lounge room. A small dividing wall obstructed our view of half the kitchen, which was where they hid to speak in hushed whispers. If it wasn’t for our super hearing, we wouldn’t have heard them talking at all. Well, we still would’ve been able to hear their thoughts. So either way, when it came to Aiden and me, what they thought was a private conversation was private no longer.

Ben was getting frustrated by Chelsea’s attitude towards me
. “You’ve been complaining nonstop about how much you miss her, and then when she finally does turn up, you won’t even speak to her,” he whispered to Chelsea.

“I spoke to her,” Chelsea said.

Ben made a sound that was a cross between a snort and a laugh. God, they were really sounding like a couple.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to fix what was wrong between Chelsea and me. I jumped up from the sofa, marched into the kitchen, grabbed Chelsea by the hand, and dragged her out onto the balcony. As soon as I let her go, she turned her back to me and leaned against the rail.

“Okay, I get it. You’re pissed at me. And you have every right to be. I should have called, but I didn’t. So you can either go on pretending to hate me, or you can accept my apology and get over it.”

She didn’t say anything. And if it
wasn’t
for me being able to hear her thoughts, I would have taken it that she wasn’t planning on forgiving me. And I would have been wrong. I couldn’t see it, but I knew a few tears had slipped from her eyes. She was hurting. She couldn’t believe that I had just disappeared on her. How I could do that to her after all we had been through? The last time she had seen me was when we were in the ambulance together after we had escaped the clutches of the person who wanted me dead. And then I had just disappeared, without so much as a goodbye.

I walked over and put my arm around her. She didn’t flinch, so I took that as a good sign. Her thoughts were clouding up as the tears continued to roll down her cheeks. I didn’t know what else to say, so I just stayed there with her, watching the street below. The faraway sound of laughter filtered up from the cafes, making me remember the days when my own life was happy and carefree, back before I learnt what I really was. But those days were never going to happen again. I was never going to have a normal life because I was far from normal. God, I didn’t even seem to be a normal next gen.

If I didn’t snap her out of this soon, I was about to end up like her. Tears were running down my cheeks as I thought about what could have been. “Let’s go back inside,” I suggested, wanting to get away from the reminder of how much my life had changed.

When I turned around, she grabbed me by the arm and spun me to face her. “I missed you so much.” She threw her arms around me and sobbed into my shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” I said with a catch in my voice. It wasn’t until then that I
realised
just how much I had missed her. She was like family to me. I swore to myself that I would never do such a thing to her again.

***

Rather than heading back to England after dropping Aiden’s car back at his house, we decided to stay for a while. I needed some time to process what I had found out and what I was going to do about it.

Chelsea had said that my mum’s work was still being published. I didn’t understand how that was possible, considering the last time I had seen my mother, a bullet was lodged in her head. Maybe they were printing a backlog of her work. But that still wouldn’t explain why her body had never been found.

Aiden and I sat in the darkness, curled up on his outdoor wicker lounge, watching the lights from across the seaway dance on the water.

“I’m going to go see her boss tomorrow,” I said. I had never been to Mum’s work and had never actually met her boss, either. All that I knew about him was that he made my mum work horrible hours and expected her to drop everything the moment he needed her.

“You probably shouldn’t get your hopes up that you’ll see her,” Aiden said softly. His thoughts then went back to the last time we had seen her. There was no possible way that she could have survived that.

“I know, and I’m not. But you have to admit that something’s not right. And whatever it is, I want to know.”

CHAPTER 9

I had driven past the building where she worked a million times before, but had never even stepped a foot in the lobby. I walked across the cream marble tiles towards the lift on the other side of the room. A handful of men and women dressed in business suits stood talking on cell phones. Aiden was driving around outside. The only parking area was for workers and could only be accessed by a security tag. So I was on my own.

The lift door opened, and I nervously stepped inside. I pressed the button for Floor 17, which I had gotten from the directory on the wall outside the lift. No matter how much I told myself that I wasn’t going to find her up there, deep down, I still held the slightest hope that I would.

After stopping at numerous floors on the way up, the doors finally opened, and I stepped out into a medium-sized room with a reception desk
centred
against the far wall. A two-seater sofa and a couple of tub chairs filled the right side of the room.

I cautiously approached the reception desk, where a lady in her mid-forties hunched over a bunch of papers. She was trying desperately to get them finished before her boss’s eleven o’clock appointment. Apparently, her boss was one to ask the impossible, then bitch and complain if it didn’t get done. What he really needed was a secretary or a personal assistant, but he figured, “Why should he pay for one when this woman would do it for him?” More money in his pocket, that was all he cared about.

After listening to her inner ramblings, I felt bad for interrupting her.

“Hi. How can I help you?” she asked in the sweetest voice.

Her face looked beat, but the kindness in her brown eyes shone through, making me feel that much more sorry for the way she was treated. No wonder her boss took advantage of her. I didn’t think she had it in her to stand up for herself. If only people understood that confidence was all about conditioning
yourself
to be that way.

Ever since I had attained the ability to hear people’s thoughts, I was surprised to find out that the people I had always thought exuded confidence had just as many self-esteem issues as everyone else. I guessed that some people just learnt to pretend they had confidence, and the funny thing was that nobody could tell the difference.

“Um, yes… I was wondering if I could speak with Nikki
Sommers
?” I asked, my voice a little shaky.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have anyone by that name here,” she replied.

What she was saying was true. She had never heard of anyone by that name, and she had worked there for five years, so there would be no reason to doubt her. The only thing I could think of was that she
may
have only known my mum as her pen name. I was never sure why, but my mother used another name to publish her work. At first, I had thought it was because she wanted to keep her work life separate from her private life, but as I got older, that didn’t make as much sense. After all, she lived for her work, so much so that she was hardly ever home.

“What about Melissa Hart?” I asked.

There was instant recognition as soon as I said that name, and my heart skipped a beat when her thoughts immediately went to a conversation she’d had with Melissa Hart in the coffee room that morning about how their boss was forever busting their balls.

“Breathe,”
Aiden said. It still felt strange being able to talk to him when we were so far apart, but I was so glad I could.

“She’s here,”
I said to him.

“I’ll just get her for you,” the receptionist said with a concerned look on her face. She was wondering what the hell was up with me, why my eyes had practically popped out of their sockets after I asked her about Melissa. She picked up the phone, but paused before
dialling
. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Um, yeah,” I replied, trying to pull myself together. But just the thought of seeing my mum was making me feel like jumping up and down, screaming, and passing out, all at the same time.

“Hi, Mel,” the receptionist said into the phone. “I have a young lady out here wanting to speak with you.” She paused, then lifted her eyes up to me and said, “Just a sec,” into the phone. She had forgotten to ask my name because of how weird I was acting.

“Jade,” I answered before she had a chance to ask.

Sandy smiled at me,
then
repeated my name into the phone before hanging up.

“Melissa will be out in a moment,” she said. “If you’d like to take a seat while you wait…” She pointed towards the sitting area to the side of her desk.

“Thanks.” I barely managed to speak with all the adrenalin pumping through my body.

Before I had a chance to take my seat, the sound of high heels clanking across the laminated floor hit me. But when the owner of the heels came into view, I was able to let out the breath that I was holding. It wasn’t Mum.

“Jade?” the blond-haired woman asked when I turned to head toward a chair.

Turning back to face her, I said, “Yeah?”

She stopped in front of me and held out her hand. “I’m Melissa Hart. You wanted to speak with me?”

I reached out and shook her hand so as not to seem rude. “I’m sorry, but I’m after the Melissa Hart who writes for The Gold Coast Bulletin.”

She looked at me for a moment before responding. “That’s me,” she replied, trying to work out why I was acting so weird. She was also hoping that I would get on with asking what I had come there for, so she could get back to work.

The woman standing in front of me truly believed she was Melissa Hart.

I knew that the next few words that were going to come out of my mouth were going to make me look like I was off my face, tripping on some mind-altering drug, but I had to ask. I had to know. And what I needed to know wasn’t going to come from their mouths; it would come from their thoughts. “Look, I’m looking for my mother, Nikki
Sommers
, who works under the pen name Melissa Hart. She’s worked for this paper since I can remember. Do either of you know her?”