Indivisible. Part 45

"It's okay, but where are you?"

"The hospital." She looked at Jonah's sleeping face, drawn and pale. "Jonah got shot."

"What?"

"He's going to be okay." No other outcome allowed.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. He's pretty out of it."

"Do you need me?"

"No. Just take it easy, okay?"

"I'm going to shower and try to eat. Might not make it to work, though."

"Me neither."

"Take care of Jonah and don't worry. If I decide to kill Bob, I'll give you time to get there."

Tia laughed. "It's a deal." She settled back down beside Jonah, feeling an oncoming repose that, in the chair, would probably maim her.

Together we sit. Together we stand. The cameras flash.

A voice says, "How do you tell them apart?"

Apart? We are never apart. We don't run away to separate places, separate games. We are one.

"What are you thinking, Lizzie?" Lucy's voice was hardly a breath.

"About the TV people who filmed us that first time, remember?"

"Why the funny look?" Lying across her lap, Lucy tipped her head up.

"The cameraman who asked how to tell us apart."

"And Mom said, 'Well, one is on the right, and one is on the left.'" Lucy's giggle rasped.

Liz raised an eyebrow. "As though we might rearrange ourselves."

"Silly, silly, silly."

"Very silly." Liz stroked her hair.

"I'm glad you're back. I hated you leaving."

"I know." The sadness pa.s.sed before Lucy looked up again. Liz stroked her sister's cheek. "I know."

She had awakened from her sleep, and soon, everything would be different.

Under the warm, streaming water Piper realized, thought by thought, what could have happened to her. She soaped her body, feeling the intended violation. How dare he?

After toweling off, she stepped out of the claw-foot tub. She pulled on stretchy shorts, a sports bra, and tank, then turned on her Turbo Jam DVD workout. Throwing the punches felt good, kicking out in controlled power even better. Before she'd finished the final stretches, she heard a knock at the door.

Her heart thumped. Bob was in jail, wasn't he? She swallowed. It might be a friend of Tia's or someone about the house. She'd never before been afraid to answer. Slowly she made her way to the door and looked through the cut gla.s.s. Miles? Miles?

She pulled open the door as he raised a bouquet to her face. Laughing, she lowered the flowers to see him. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't open the bakery."

"I'm taking a sick day."

"Are you sick?" He paled.

"Not contagiously. I promise."

"I brought you these."

She took the mums and daisies. "They're pretty."

"They're from my garden. But they want water." Miles shifted from foot to foot.

Last night she had put herself in danger without realizing a thing. She hesitated, then motioned him in with her head. "Come on."

He closed the door carefully and followed her to the kitchen. "This house is old."

"It's one of the originals. Part of Old Town, if you include the residential district." Piper put the flowers in the sink and searched for a vase. She settled on a gla.s.s pitcher, filled it halfway with water, then added the stems. "There. Kind of still-lifey."

"I have a book about Dutch still-life painters."

She smiled. "I'd like to see it sometime."

"I could bring it over."

"I could see it at your house."

He searched the kitchen to avoid her gaze, then blew air through his lips. "People don't come to my house. It's a safe zone."

"But you might get my germs here and take them back with you."

He nodded. "It doesn't make sense."

"Do you want some tea or coffee? I have a half an orange-mango coffeecake."

His brow puckered. "You're not upset?"

"That I can't come over?"

"About last night."

How could he possibly know?

"You didn't want to go out with Bob."

"Don't get me started on that." She filled the kettle with hot water and turned on the stove. "I'll just get mad all over again."

Miles looked stricken. "What do you mean?"

She cut the coffeecake and put the slices on two plates, anger welling up. "Bob drugged me. He planned to-"

Miles backed into the pantry door, hands gripping his head. "No!"

"Miles."

"It's my fault. My fault you were with him."

"Nothing happened. Jonah caught him."

"But you wouldn't have been there if I hadn't-"

"Miles!" She gripped his wrist. "It's not your fault."

He froze.

She could feel him shaking.

The Adam's apple jerked up and down in his throat. "You're touching me."

"I know."

"People don't touch." He sounded strangled.

"Do you want me to let go?"

"I don't know." He slackened against the door, keeping only the arm she held stiff.

She stared into his soft brown eyes. "Can you help me understand the touching thing?"

He blinked, blinked, then sighed. "I was too big. A pituitary gland tumor. It causes gigantism in children."

"You're not that big." Six feet seven maybe, a burly, round-shouldered build.

"I was four feet ten in kindergarten. My hands and head were huge. Big clumsy feet. I banged and b.u.mped everything. Auntie Beth said, 'Don't touch, don't touch.' But I couldn't help it."

"Oh, Miles."

"The kids were so mean."

"I just bet."

"Not the five-year-olds like me, but the older ones. They pushed. They made me fall down in the dirt, in the mud. They made my clothes dirty, my hands dirty." His chest heaved. "Aunt Beth said, 'Don't touch people.' But one time, that one one time, I couldn't stop it. I pushed back." time, I couldn't stop it. I pushed back."

Piper ached.

"I had big strong bones, big long arms. They hit, and I hit harder." He hung his head. "I didn't mean to hurt them. I just wanted them to stop."

"Of course you did."

"I never went back to school."

She melted. "You didn't need school."

"But now I'm this." He raised his clasped wrist, and she could see his hand shaking.

She softly let go. "You're going to be okay."

He looked at his hands. "Can I use your sink?"

Twenty-Nine.

And when I sue G.o.d for myself, He hears that name of thine, And sees within my eyes the tears of two.-ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING Jonah pressed through the fog as voices penetrated, Tia telling someone he was sleeping. But he'd done enough of that. He opened his eyes to Jay, looking confused.

"You're not bulletproof?"

Jonah pulled a wry smile. "Now you know."

"Gotta watch him," Jay told Tia as she pushed up from the chair. "He does this stuff."

"Gets shot?" She tried to tame her crazy mane.

"Anything for attention." He extended his hand. "I'm Jay. You were preoccupied with your friend last evening, then Jonah goes and pulls a stunt like this. You'd think people were conspiring."

Tia smiled. "Nice to finally meet you."

He watched her take Jay's measure, watched them take each other's.

Jay glanced over. "Now I see."

Jonah guessed he did.

"They think you'll live?"