Free Society Rules by Katherine Whitley Page B

one he needed , like air to breathe, was terrified of him!
    Oh, she found him attractive; that much he could read from her. She felt the inevitable draw toward him, but was so overwhelmed by the revelation of the morning, that all she could conceivably react with was suspicion and fear.
    What, was this someone’s idea of a joke? His eyes lifted to the ceiling of his car, as if awaiting some kind of response to that thought.
    “Ah, well,” he sighed, “we shall see what the day brings . . . or eternity, whichever. I am prepared to wait for her, either way!”
    He rested his head back on the seat, and visualized again the sky blue of her eyes . . . the silky rich sheen of her flowing hair and her perfectly kissable lips.
    Desire leaped on top of Jackson like a hungry bear, its claws digging deeply into his flesh. This forced him to shift uncomfortably in his seat, as certain physical reactions began to manifest themselves; the direct result of his mental caresses upon her body.
    Well, this was so not appropriate!
    With admirable force of will, Jackson cast off his aching need to touch Indie, and get as close to her as humanly possible.
    Maybe even closer still.
    The IPod he’d connected to the auxiliary outlet in his car suffered the usual abuse as he restlessly flipped through song after song, in a hopeless attempt to distract himself.
    Irritated with his self-acknowledged musical ADHD, Jackson ripped the cord free of the outlet, wondering how it was possible to load your IPod with the songs you love most, but then feel the need to skip over five to ten songs at a time once they were captured for your anytime pleasure.
    The FM station blasted on, and a song that under most circumstances he would have changed immediately, assaulted him at high volume.
    A much too slow and sappy song by Finger Eleven.
    Jackson was familiar with the band from their much more energetic material, but as he reached forward to press the tiny scan button, rhythm of the acoustic guitar ensnared him, and the verse caught his attention . . .
    . . . it’s nothing I planned, and not that I can  . . . but you should be mine, across that line  . . .
    He froze with his finger still poised in the air.
    . . . If I traded it all, if I gave it all away for one thing  . . . just for one thing  . . .
    For perhaps the first time in his life, a song hit Jackson in an emotional way, instead of just to escape his thoughts, or to amp him up for action. He listened to the words, and he could feel them. It was like the song understood his torment and it made him feel better. He dropped his hand, and placed it awkwardly on the gear shift, deep in thought.
    The music encouraged Jackson to return his head, both physically and mentally to the headrest; only raising it again hours later, when he spied Indie running out the back door of the facility, and jumping into her car in a fashion that was eerily similar to his own earlier dive for cover.
    He glanced quickly into the rearview mirror and made a face at his reflection. His hair was impossible. The wild and windblown appearance probably wasn’t helping him make his case to Indie that he wasn’t some raging lunatic. He raked his hands hastily through the tangled mess, and sighed. It wasn’t going to get any better. Jackson started his car.

Chapter 5
    Indie sat in her car for a moment and contemplated the events of the day. It hurt, knowing that there was absolutely no one in the entire world with whom she could confide about what had happened today. Not if she wanted to remain out of the psych ward. Not even in a state as ready to accept the strange and improbable as Vermont, would she find someone okay with this topic.
    She sighed, and started her car.
    Miss Maggie had told her that she couldn’t just act like today never happened. Well, she would see about that.
    Get back to normal, she told herself, shakily. Stay in your routine, and everything will be okay.
    Sure it will , her