Abduction (A Psychic Romance Novella Series) by Ladd Larissa

Author:Ladd, Larissa [Ladd, Larissa]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2014-03-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Gabrielle was warm all over, comfortable, relaxed. She and Dustin had managed to get through two bottles of wine, and the third was halfway gone.

“Now you have to tell me. The worst thing.”

Her stomach was full of the good meal that Dustin had made; it had been delicious even cold. She wondered how she had managed to become so comfortable with him so quickly. She considered the request, taking a sip of the crisp, cold white wine in her glass.

Dustin had filled her glass over and over again, the hours creeping by as they talked—Gabrielle telling him about growing up as a telepath with a mother who had mild telepathic empathy and a grandmother who had the same level of telepathy she’d been born with. It was a different sort of upbringing than what Dustin had had, she knew. There had been acceptance of her gifts from the moment she’d begun to manifest them. Nobody had assumed that she was crazy, or possessed. But then, she thought, the kind of trouble that a telepath could get into couldn’t compare with a hormonal telekinetic.

“I was… fourteen, I think. One of my teachers, he was always uncomfortable with me, I think because he knew. Miserable man. A pedophile. Truly sick—he hated it, but he indulged his incredibly sick fantasies as much as he could. I asked my mom what I should do about it, and she, of course, freaked out. They were investigating him and he killed himself in the middle of class. Hearing his thoughts—it was the worst thing ever. All that sickness, all that anger and despair. I had to go into therapy for a year afterward.”

Dustin’s eyes widened. He knocked back the last of his wine and set his glass down, filling it and taking Gabrielle’s to top off.

“Holy shit,” he murmured. “What did you tell the therapist? I mean, you can’t just go around saying ‘I heard a sick pedophile’s thoughts when he was killing himself,’ can you?”

Gabrielle shrugged, sipping her wine.

“They sent me to a telempathic therapist, so I could be honest. But yeah, it was pretty wretched. I still don’t have much pity for pedophiles, but even still; when someone’s suicidal there’s this… it’s the worst thing to read in someone’s mind, because it’s not even…” She struggled to describe it. “It’s like watching cancer in real-time. The suicidal thoughts just grow and grow, and the person loses everything that made them an individual—they’re consumed by it. And then when someone dies, it’s always… I have to pull away, but I didn’t know that then. I followed his brain into death.” She shuddered, remembering the sensation of the dying mind, the way he had faded away gradually, dissolving until he just went out completely.

She hadn’t realized that she had closed her eyes until she felt a pressure on her free hand. Dustin was holding it, gripping it tightly. The sensation was oddly comforting, and Gabrielle opened her eyes, feeling the heat of tears forming in them.

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