Page 60 of Bound By Water
Oliver leans forward and takes my hand in his. Is he going to take control of my mind? Fear rises. Beckett reaches out, but with one look from Oliver, his hand drops to his lap.
Oliver gently squeezes my hand. “Does anyone else know? Do I need to send a clean-up crew to get rid of the evidence?”
I blink. Did he really offer to help me hide the bodies?
“We have a crew on stand-by,” he assures me. “The last thing you need is to be looking over your shoulder.”
If he sends a crew, they’ll know I killed Trent Hightower. The son of our enemy. I shake my head several times. “No, it’s f… good.” Not fine. Definitely not fine. “Lionel helped me.” Sort of true. He hid the truck, but not the bodies.
The corners of Oliver’s eyes narrow, as if he knows I’m not telling the whole truth, but his gaze remains steady. “If you change your mind, let me know. The last thing we need is Hightower and his men using this against you. Or us.”
I stare back at him, then force a smile. “Yep. Now that’s settled, how do we begin?”
That was close. It’s obvious I won’t be able to stay here for long, though. If I do, this could end badly for them, which brings me back to the point of today. If I’m going to be on my own, I need to learn how to wield water.
Beckett stands. “I’d like to start with the same scenario that triggered you yesterday.” He motions for me to follow him to the center of the room. “You, too, Oliver.”
Oliver joins us and gives Beckett an uneasy look. “I can use my mind to do this.”
Beckett looks at me. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Oliver is either going to wrap his hands around your neck, or he’s going to use his mind to make it feel like he’s choking you. The second you’re triggered, and your powers rise, I’m going to calm you. Distance you from the pain and emotions. Then I want you to try to use your powers.”
Although I hate the choking part, I get why he’s starting with it. Normally, I’d protest Beckett’s mental influence on my emotions, but after yesterday’s more explosive reaction, I know I’ll need it.
He raises an eyebrow, silently asking if I’m good with his plan. “I want to start disassociating your powers from the event. What do you think? Remember, you’re calling the shots. If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”
I nod my agreement. “I want to.”
Oliver shifts from one foot to the other. I wonder which one makes him more uneasy.
“His hands. Not his mind.” The idea of mind control is terrifying. I like my mind the way it is. Without influence.
He stiffens, then dips his chin and moves in closer. “Ready?” Five inches taller than me, he’s around the same height as Trent. He places his hands on my neck. Unlike Trent’s cold fingers, Oliver’s are warm, but the second they wrap around my throat, my pulse skyrockets.
I take a deep breath in and smell the soap he used in the shower. The clean scent isn’t remotely close to the luxury cologne Trent wore, and it helps center me. “Yes.”
“Close your eyes,” Beckett tells me. “It will help you fall into the past faster.”
I let my eyes drift closed.
“Squeeze,” Beckett orders him. “She has to break through this barrier.”
His fingers tighten, and my airway narrows. I try to take a deep breath but can’t. My vision darkens, and I claw at the hands on my throat. Trent appears. His intent clear. My hands slacken as I almost give up, but then that smirk appears. My fury rises. The power inside me with it.
A hand slides across my shoulder, and the fury dies. But I still can’t breathe. I inhale, but there’s little air. Then wavering power finds its strength. To resist. To fight. Hands loosen around my neck. I inhale deeply, drawing in as much air as possible, then open my eyes.
Anger simmers in the blue-grey depths in front of me.
In reaction, I step back, automatically raising my hand against him. Water from the glass on the table arcs in his direction. He steps to the side at the last minute, and it falls harmlessly to the floor. I stare at my hand. A defensive reaction but nothing out of control like yesterday, and I was aware of it happening.
“I did it,” I say, looking at my hand before I drop it back to my side. “I wasn’t exactly calm, but I stayed in control.”
“Good job,” Beckett praises me. “I think this is going to work. We’ll use this tactic until you can call it forth without a trigger. It shouldn’t take long to map the neuropathways. Maybe a couple of sessions.”
Oliver’s fingers glide gently over my throat, and his mouth compresses. “I have to go.” With one last look at my neck, he storms out of Beckett’s office.
“Is he going to be okay?” I ask, hoping he’s not angry with me.
Beckett looks at the door and tilts his head. “Eventually.” His gaze slides to me. “We’ll get you some cream for your neck. More importantly, how are you doing?”
