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Saving Face Chapter 17

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THE ALARM SOUNDED, and Tom slammed his hand on the buzzer, shutting the annoying sound off. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, wondering just how crappy his first day back at school would be. The news had filleted him and hinted that his upbringing could have been the reason he went astray. Interviews with Tanya’s parents cut him deeper than any of the other false accusations, their teary-eyed pleas as to why hit a raw nerve.

He wanted the same answers and if he ever got his hand on the son of a bitch, he wouldn’t pussy foot around with asking why. Instead, he’d crush every bone in the bastard’s body one by one. For the first time in his life, the idea of inflicting pain was one he relished.

CJ watched the news stories in silence, but Tom knew better. Anger stewed under his brother’s neutral exterior and it was only a matter of time before CJ blew sky high. He could see it in his eyes, that frantic need to control the situation, to shut the assholes up.

Steve had been clear with both of them. Not one word was to seep to the press, but Tom knew CJ wouldn’t be able to keep to that directive. At least not for long.

The rap of knuckles on his door drew him out of his reverie. “Ye, I’m up,” he mumbled and rolled out of bed. Dread wrapped her cold hand around his chest, applying just enough pressure to make breathing difficult. He grabbed a clean pair of boxers and jeans and headed for the shower. The hot water lulled him into his normal morning stupor and he closed his eyes, letting the warmth heat up his core, melting the stress from his muscles.

He shook the sleep from his head and turned the water off, stepping into the steam filled bathroom. With a towel secured around his waist, he pulled the curtain aside and stepped out of the tub. His progress halted as he stared at the ghost standing less than a foot away.

Her eyes scanned his wet form and returned to his face. A smile formed on the pouty lips and the impact on Tom was immediate. His vision blurred, and he stepped closer.

“Tanya,” he whispered, and her eyes widened.

“Your voice,” she said and reached for him. “It’s beautiful.”

Her hand landed on his chest and he closed his eyes at the feel of her spirit. Warmth flooded through him and he covered her hand, glancing down at the texture of her ghostly skin before raising his gaze back to hers.

“Honey, you’re dead,” he said, his voice articulating perfectly in his head, but not in his ears, the lack of a tongue impairing his spoken words. “That’s why you can hear my voice.”

She blinked, pulling her hand away from his chest. A crease appeared between her eyes. “Dead?”

While nodding confirmation to her question, a thought crossed his mind. He stepped closer, meeting her gaze with an intensity he didn’t comprehend. Now that she was a ghost, she heard his real voice and the possibilities became endless. His heart pumped a burning need through his skin, one that he knew was wrong, but he had to know if he could give her what she wanted now that she was gone.

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her the way she always wanted. The ghost of his tongue mingled with hers, and the world stopped. Every sensation flooded him, filling him with both elation and regret. The loss compounded, leaving his legs weak and unsteady and he reached for the wall, stumbling back in shock. His breath locked in his chest and his vision wavered through a fresh set of tears.

When he met her gaze, her hand flew to cover her already gaping mouth.

“I didn’t get there in time to save you,” he said, and his chest constricted shutting off his voice. Hot tears slid down his cheeks and he dropped his chin to his chest, trying to get his shit together.

“Oh, babe,” she whispered and wrapped her arms around his neck in a heartfelt hug.

A sob escaped from his chest and he held her ghost until she faded into the steamy mist and he stood empty and shivering, with his haunted gaze staring back from the mirror.

* * * *

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CJ STOOD OUTSIDE THE bathroom, his head down and his eyes closed, listening with his mind’s eye. Tom’s soft sobs bled through the door and he put his hand on the wood, wishing there was something he could do to wipe out the pain in his brother’s heart.

Another presence interrupted his concentration and he opened his eyes, glancing down the hall. Steve stood with his arms crossed and a disapproving look etched onto his face and CJ shook his head, silently telling Steve to leave it alone.

The sternness in Steve’s stance softened and his glance transitioned to the door and back, concern flared in his eyes and he took a step in his direction.

CJ put his hand up and shook his head. “I got this,” he said and turned the doorknob. He pushed open the door and a waft of steam escaped.

Tom straightened his back when the cool air filtered into the room, displacing the steam. He finished buttoning his jeans before he turned and met CJ’s gaze.

“You okay?” CJ asked.

“I’m fine,” Tom signed and swiped the towel off the floor, tossing it over the towel rack.

CJ stared at his blood shot eyes and blotchy cheeks. “You don’t look fine,” he said and stepped to the sink to brush his teeth.

Tom stiffened and took a breath. “Please, just leave it alone.” The act of signing the words drained what little energy he had left, and his hands fell to his sides.

CJ spit the paste from his mouth and dropped the toothbrush in the holder before meeting his brother’s gaze. “You gotta talk sometime.”

No. I don’t.

The thought filled CJ’s head and he pressed his lips together. “Cut the crap. I know she was here, and I know what’s going on in your head.”

“You don’t know shit,” he signed.

“Then tell me you weren’t just thinking about suicide.”

Tom’s gaze dropped to the floor.

“It’s not the answer.” He crossed his arms and tightened his jaw. “What do you think attempted suicide would do to your case?”

The muscles in Tom’s jaw jumped and his glare met CJ’s. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to stop sulking and start figuring out how to win,” CJ said. “You do remember winning, right?”

“Win what?”

“You’re freedom. Your honor,” CJ replied. “The right to go where you please.” He waved toward Tom’s ankle bracelet.

“Even if I do win, it doesn’t matter. Tanya is still dead. That’s not going to change,” Tom signed. His face flushed with anger and he turned away.

CJ grabbed his arm. “I know you cared about her, but it’s not like she was the only girl on the planet.”

“Fuck off.” Tom yanked his arm from CJ and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

Frustration fluttered in CJ’s stomach as he stared at the closed door. He glanced at his reflection and bit his lip wondering if he should do something drastic. Tom wasn’t going to act on his downward spiral just yet, but the fact that the thought crossed his brother’s mind scared CJ. The last thing he wanted to do was ignore the signs.

Sighing, he turned and flipped the shower on. His intervention could wait for twenty minutes while he cleaned up.

* * * *

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TOM STOOD OVER THE sink, sipping a glass of orange juice and staring out the window at the peaceful back yard. The front of the house didn’t share the same tranquility. It looked like a dozen more reporters showed up overnight. He remembered the fanfare when he got back from Georgia and they were relentless.

This time they would not only be relentless, they would be ruthless.

“Are you ready to go?” Steve asked, setting his coffee cup down in the sink.

Tom shook his head. He wasn’t ready for the scrutiny, the stares or the underlying hostility aimed his way and his stomach clenched, sending rippling pain through his abdomen.

“You have to go to school,” Steve said.

There was no leeway in his tone and Tom turned, meeting his gaze.

“It’s part of the deal. You have to attend school in order to stay out of jail.”

“I know,” he signed back and drained the rest of his juice. This option looked so much better the other night when his identity was anonymous, but now that his face was recognizable to anyone with a television set, he wasn’t so sure the ‘get out of jail free’ card was the best choice. Maybe being someone’s bitch wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Steve’s eyebrow rose, and he crossed his arms.

“Stop listening to my thoughts,” Tom signed, irritation raking a hot path down his arms and he clenched his fists. Pressing his lips together, he turned and grabbed his backpack off the chair, heading toward the garage without a glance over his shoulder. He tossed the backpack onto the passenger floor and slumped in the seat, waiting for Steve to emerge and give him a hefty dose of grief.

* * * *

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STEVE COUNTED TO TEN to settle his growing aggravation and glanced at the stairwell. CJ stepped into the family room, meeting his gaze.

“What the hell happened this morning?”

“Tanya’s ghost paid him a visit.”

The shock of those words bit at Steve’s skin and he blew a stream of air from his lips. He could only imagine what that meeting must have been like and now he understood the haunted look in Tom’s eyes. “Are you riding with us?” he asked.

“No, I’ve got practice after school and then I need to head straight to work.”

Steve glanced at the calendar. CJ’s work hours were scribbled under today’s date and Steve nodded. “I don’t want you hanging out after your shift. I think Tom’s going to need someone to vent to and he certainly won’t bitch about his day to me.”

CJ shifted his feet and looked down at the floor with a crease between his eyes. “Just watch him while I’m gone, okay?”

The worried tone in CJ’s voice gained Steve’s attention. “I will,” he said and grabbed his keys off the counter. “Keep an eye on him at school,” he ordered before he slipped into the garage.

Tom didn’t acknowledge his presence, even when he shut the car door and started the car.

“You want to talk about it?” Steve asked as he backed out of the garage and executed a k-turn in the driveway so he wouldn’t have to reverse through the sea of reporters.

“O,” Tom said, his mind echoing a resounding no.

Steve let it go for now, focusing his attention on the driveway gate and the mass of reporters beyond it, blocking his exit. “This ought to be fun,” he muttered as they approached the closed gate. With the press of a button the iron bars separated, widening until the opening was big enough for his car to squeeze through without scraping on the bars.

The crowd didn’t disperse, instead, they seemed to converge on the car, banging on the windows with their palms and shouting questions through the glass. Steve glanced at Tom and revved his engine. A few of the more intelligent reporters stepped away, but the majority still clung to the car like their lives depended upon a sound bite from either of them.

A horn sounded behind them making Steve jump a little in the seat and he glanced in the rearview mirror at CJ and his smug smile. Good lord, that’s all he needed, and he sent a silent warning to CJ ordering him not to run the crowd over. They had enough problems without an errant manslaughter charge added to the mix.

He took a breath and whispered, “Move.”

The crowd swept back far enough for him to get through and he suppressed a smile at the expression of shock on the majority of the faces gawking at the car. As soon as both he and CJ were through the mass, he pressed the gate controls, going slow until the gate latched closed.

Tom’s ankle bracelet, beeped red and Steve focused on the road, driving faster than the posted speed limit to get him to the school within the allotted timeframe. He pulled in front of the school and his stomach turned at the press gathered on the sidewalk just waiting to ambush them.

“You ready for this?”

* * * *

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TOM STARED AT THE BARRIER of people between the car and the school and he nodded. He didn’t have that much time left according to the increase in the beeps coming from his ankle. He swallowed and reached for the door.

Steve stepped out of the driver’s side and came around to meet him on the sidewalk. He took Tom’s arm just before the swell surrounded them.

Another hand grasped his free arm and he turned, meeting CJ’s gaze. With a nod, they pushed their way through the crowd. Both CJ and Steve kept repeating, “No comment,” to the torrent of questions.

The principal stood at the door with his arms crossed, his gaze meeting Tom’s, blazing through him with angry distaste and Tom swallowed the burning ball of acid that rose in his throat. He expected the media swarm, but he didn’t expect the hostility radiating from the principal.

“Can I see you and Tom in my office, Agent Williams?” Principal Novak asked when they entered.

When he stepped into the school, the red light on his ankle switched to green and he traded a glance with CJ before following Steve and Principal Novak through the halls. Students turned from their lockers and all conversation stopped as they stared at him. He didn’t meet anyone’s gaze and let out the breath he held when the office door closed behind him.

Steve pulled out the conditions of Tom’s house arrest, anticipating the principal’s resistance. “School is part of the court order for house arrest,” he said, handing the paperwork to Principal Novak.

“I have to think about the safety of the students.” Principal Novak made no attempt to take the paperwork from Steve. “And having a serial killer walking my halls isn’t acceptable.”

Tom’s jaw tightened. The accusation thrown out in this environment hurt more than being arrested. He stood and started signing and Steve put his hand up, stopping him.

“Tom isn’t the Windwalker,” Steve said.

“That’s not what the news is reporting and until an acquittal is rendered, he isn’t welcome here.”

“What happened to innocent until proven guilty?” Steve asked with venom that was palatable in the air.

“He’s a danger to the students.” Principal Novak pointed to Tom.

“I am not,” Tom signed. “I didn’t kill anyone. If it makes you feel better, you can search me for weapons every day.” He spread his arms out, challenging the principal.

Principal Novak looked at Steve.

“He said you can search him for weapons every day if it would make you more comfortable.”

“I’m not comfortable with him here.”

“I don’t give a damn about your comfort. Tom has a right to an education and the court states you have to allow him to attend school,” Steve snarled and tossed the papers on the principal’s desk.

“I know Tanya’s parents,” Principal Novak said.

“So do I,” Steve said. “My son didn’t kill her.”

“He isn’t your son,” Principal Novak replied.

Steve’s fists clenched, and Tom put a hand on his arm, stopping him from doing something they both would regret. “Uce eve, e i go,” he said.

“I will not let it go, this fool thinks...”

Tom sighed and shook his head. “We aren’t going to change his mind,” he signed and looked at the principal. “Can I go to class now?”

Again, the principal looked at Steve for translation.

“Can he go to class now?” Steve said with a tight jaw.

Principal Novak picked up the paper and scanned it, his face turning red at the enclosed directive. He nodded. “But any sign of trouble and you are expelled.”

“Expelled?” Steve asked.

“Yes. If he causes any disruption what so ever in my school, I will expel him.”

“Fine,” Steve said and turned to Tom. “I’ll be home if you need anything and either Jennifer or I will be here at one-thirty to pick you up.”

Tom nodded and turned, leaving Steve and the principal staring after him. The hallways were still filled with students and CJ stepped next to him as he headed to his fist class. Halfway down the hall, a group of his teammates stepped into his path. The expressions on their faces meant trouble.

“You killed Tanya and have the nerve to set foot in this school,” Bear Whipple said. His broad width made him the perfect defensive center and not someone you wanted as an enemy. His temper was as notorious as the power behind his fists.

“He didn’t kill her, asshole,” CJ said, taking a protective step in front of Tom.

Tom pushed CJ aside and sent a glare in his direction. He didn’t want CJ stepping in to protect him. He stepped forward, toe to toe with Bear, meeting his gaze with a fiery one of his own. This was his teammate and one of his closest friends and the fact that he believed the news irked him. “You’ve known me all my life and you really think I could do something like that?” he signed.

“I know how pissed you were that she broke up with you,” he snarled. “And you were caught red handed. They say you still had her blood all over you, the knife in one hand and her scalp in the other.”

Tom stepped back. “Where the hell did you hear that?”

“Horatio’s father,” he said.

Tom’s jaw tightened. Horatio’s father was one of the drunks in the cell next to his.

“That’s bullshit. I found her in the woods face down in one of the inlet streams and pulled her out of the water. That’s why I had blood on me.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because you know there’s was no way I’d ever hurt her.”

“Maybe that’s why you killed her,” Bear leaned forward, his face inches from Tom’s.

If he couldn’t convince his best friend, he had no hope of convincing a jury. Frustration took control and his vision wobbled. “Do you have any idea what it was like finding her like that?”

Bear stared at him, his eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. His fist shot out and Tom reacted, parrying the punch and stepping to the side. Two pairs of hands grabbed him as Bear spun back in his direction. But CJ stepped in front of him.

“Bear, I suggest you let this go now,” CJ said.

An electrical current filled the air, spawned by the tension in CJ and Tom struggled out of the hands gripping him, turning so he was back to back with CJ, protecting his brother from any attack in that direction.

“He’s the fucking Windwalker,” Bear said.

Tom couldn’t see CJ’s face, but he was sure that crazy smile graced his lips, the one that made everyone around him nervous.

“Do you really believe that?” CJ asked, his voice carrying that exasperated tone Tom knew well. It was the one he used before all hell broke loose and Tom glanced over his shoulder, meeting Bear’s gaze for a moment before returning his attention to the rest of the defensive line surrounding them.

CJ had done a fantastic job of hiding his abilities from the general public for years, but if he didn’t do something to diffuse the situation, that was going to be blown any second.

The bell rang, and Tom closed his eyes, thankful for the timing. He turned and grabbed CJ’s arm, dragging him away from Bear and the ugly confrontation.

“This isn’t over, Ryan!” Bear shouted.

Tom glanced over his shoulder, meeting Bear’s angry glare before turning to CJ.

“Are you out of your mind?” he signed.

CJ stopped in the hall and stared at Tom. “If I hadn’t stepped in, they would have pounded you into the ground.”

Tom raised his eyebrow. “I can hold my own.”

“Against Bear, yes, but against the entire team, I don’t think so. You’re good, but not that good.”

They walked into English class together and the talking stopped. Jaws dropped open and Tom ignored them, taking his assigned seat. He opened his book to the assignment and glanced at the teacher. Her expression matched that of the class and he ripped a piece of paper out of his notebook and scribbled in large block letters. I AM INNOCENT. He held it up for the teacher knowing his irritation was visible on his face, just by the tightness in his jaw.

Miss Simpson glanced at the note and returned her gaze to his and he held her steady stare. The fear etched in her face softened and she nodded.

“Okay, class, please open your books to page one hundred and twenty-four,” Miss Simpson said.

Tom paid attention and took notes, but he didn’t ask any questions or draw any more attention to himself. For the duration of her class, life seemed almost normal and he was more thankful for her acceptance than he could articulate. When the bell rang, he lingered packing his things slowly while CJ waited at the door.

He met Miss Simpson’s gaze and sent the sign for thank you in her direction.

She gave him a nod and he turned toward CJ and the hostility in the hallway. With a deep breath, he headed to his next class. Outside of the initial confrontation in the hall, the morning went by without another incident; however, the tension level in the hallways increased as the day went on.

After history, CJ went to his honors science class and Tom headed toward the cafeteria. Dread slowed his approach and he took a deep breath. Knowing he had done nothing wrong didn’t help, especially with the judgmental glares he received from every student.

He got in the lunch line and the kids in front of him hurried through the line, giving him a wide berth. The fear in their gaze stroked a frigid draft across his skin and he sighed. They all had rendered him guilty. His friends, his teachers, even his teammates thought he was capable of the atrocious murders. When he got to the end of the line, his hands shook as he peeled off the cash for his meal and the cashier took it with extreme caution, like touching him would result in her death.

Tom wanted to scream and throw his tray across the room, but he willed his aggravation into the hard pit of his stomach and headed toward an empty table near the courtyard, taking a seat with his back to the rest of the student body. He couldn’t deal with the stares anymore and ate alone in silence, wishing he could just disappear into the woodwork.

Sudden pain flared in the back of his head and he fell towards the table, catching himself before his face hit the surface. He blinked away the bright lights flaring in his eyes and turned in time to see the backside of the heavy-duty tray coming toward his face. He didn’t have enough time to react and the hard plastic smashed into his cheek with the force of a baseball bat, catapulting him onto the floor.

Tom rolled, getting to his feet on wobbly legs and his blurry gaze landed on Bear and the rest of the team converging on him like wolves cornering their prey. His survival instinct kicked in and his martial arts training took over. He shifted into ready stance, ignoring the pain in his face.

“Come o,” he said, waving them in but the steady glare he sent in their direction made them hesitate. Tom counted ten linebackers surrounding Bear and he exhaled, willing away the fear threatening to close his throat.

Bear tossed the tray on the table and charged. The team followed.

Tom deflected the first four swings, but the fifth caught him in the temple stunning him enough for a few of the guys to grab his arms. Bear slammed a fist into his stomach and Tom swore it pummeled him all the way to his spine. His breath expelled in a grunt of pain and his knees wobbled. A second fist caught his chin, snapping his head to the right, and dark spots appeared in his vision. Bear’s second hit lifted his body off the floor and he cried out in pain.

The third punch was aimed at his nose and Tom blinked bleary eyes, following the trajectory and he prayed the punch was strong enough to send broken bits of his nose into his brain. He welcomed death.

Bear’s fist stopped less than an inch from his face and he was yanked away by an invisible hand and thrown across the cafeteria. The rest of the team was thrown as well, and Tom fell to his hands and knees, his gaze landed on the doorway and a very pissed CJ. Ryan.

CJ walked straight across the room and everything in his path swept aside like a bulldozer went through it, leaving a wide path. When Bear got to his feet and charged, CJ snarled, “You just fucked with the wrong person.” He held up his hand, stopping Bear cold.

“You should have let them kill me,” Tom signed when CJ reached him.

CJ grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. “You know me better than that,” CJ said and headed toward the door with Tom limping beside him.

“What the hell are you?” Bear whispered as they passed.

CJ turned in his direction with his arm supporting his brother. “I’m your worst fucking nightmare,” he said using his father’s favorite line and leveling the same glare in Bear’s direction.

Tom saw him shiver and dropped his head to hide his smile of satisfaction. You still have to go to practice after school, he thought and met his brother’s gaze.

“Maybe I’ll just quit the team,” CJ muttered, helping Tom out of the cafeteria.

Where are you taking me? Tom asked as they passed the office, heading toward the parking lot.

“Home,” CJ said.

I can’t leave. Tom thought and tried to stop but CJ kept moving. Just take me to the nurse’s office.

CJ stopped at the door and sighed. “If I take you to the nurse, you’ll end up in the emergency room.”

Tom stared at CJ and brought his free hand to his face. Just grazing his fingers across his cheek brought a fresh bout of pain, leaving him dizzy and nauseous and when he pulled his hand away; his fingertips were covered in blood.

“Shi,” he muttered and met his brother’s gaze. “Nurse,” he signed.

“You sure?”

Tom paused and looked out at the parking lot, debating. “If I fu up o my fir ay, ey wi pu me ba i jai,” he said and met CJ’s gaze.

“They won’t put you back in jail,” CJ said.

Tom nodded. “Nurse,” he signed and started limping in that direction without CJ’s help. Each step created a web of pain through his abdomen and a pounding hell in his head and he reached for the wall. Now that the adrenaline rush faded, every step brought a nuance of agony, making him grit his teeth. The last time his body hurt this bad was in Georgia, and he squeezed his eyes shut, hanging his head so CJ couldn’t see the pain etched in his face.

“You want my help?” CJ asked stepping in stride with him.

“Ya,” Tom whispered and wrapped his arm around CJ’s neck, leaning on him for support as they shuffled down the hall.