Free Heroes of Falledge Book One: Black Hellebore by Nicole Zoltack Page B

bodies. He couldn't see what they were doing, but finally enough people moved away that he saw the boy placed onto a stretcher. His arms and legs moved. Good.
    He turned his attention to the mother. She lay deathly still, at least it appeared to him, and the breath in his airways lessened. If he had been the reason for another death, this one unintentional and because he was a dumbass, he would never be able to forgive himself.
    Despite longing to turn away, he remained fixated on the scene in front of him. Finally, the officials slowed their movements, no longer looking like frantic squirrels collecting nuts for the winter. They seemed to hold their heads higher, as if proud of their efforts. Nicholas sent up a prayer that that was the case. A bundle of nerves, he collapsed onto the couch.
    His schooling, or lack thereof, had never bothered him until today.
    He had never felt more ignorant.
    If he was going to continue to try to help people, he needed to be smarter.
    First thing in the morning, he was going to change all that.

Chapter Thirteen
    Justina was a devil on her bike. Nick struggled to keep up with her the first several times they rode together, but soon he was just as accomplished a rider as she was.
    One day about a month after he had arrived, the duo were speeding through town.
    Her blond hair flew behind her until she halted her bike. The golden strands covered her face and mouth. She impatiently brushed them back. "Do ya like it here?"
    "Course I do!" he exclaimed, stopping beside her. "Don't you?"
    "Naw."
    Nick's jaw dropped. "What..."
    "Don't get me wrong," she added quickly. "Between you and Julianna, and everyone, I have more than enough friends here. It's not that. But Falledge's so..."
    He grinned. "Tame?"
    "Exactly! I want to travel the world. Jump out of a plane. Sail across an ocean. Maybe even go to the moon." She glanced at him sideways. "You'd never jump out of a plane, would you?"
    "Yes, I would." And not just because she thought he wouldn't.
    Her giggle was still the happiest sound he'd ever heard. "I know. You used to be so quiet and tucked up all inside like a hermit crab. I'm glad you're out of your shell now."
    Inwardly, he winced. Justina didn't know about his past, about all the fights he had gotten in. He didn't tolerate anyone picking on him -- kids or adults. He never really had a shell. Just built-up walls to keep others away.
    At least that's what his psychiatrist said. Nick hated him. He liked to throw around fancy terms and big words, but Nick didn't think he knew anything about anything.
    No one knew the pain Nick felt every day. No one took the pain away like Justina did.
    As much as he wanted to confide in her, he knew he never would. He would never do or say anything that would drive her away.
    "It's all thanks to you." He faked a grin.
    She tilted her head. "Are you okay?"
    "Of course. One day, I'm gonna get a motorcycle and we'll hightail it out of here. How does that sound?"
    Justina threw back her head and giggled. "Sounds like a plan."
     
    *****
     
    The front door creaking woke Nicholas. Good thing he'd fixed it after the last of the gawkers left. He still owed her a new shelf. Hopefully she hadn’t realized that tidbit yet. He stirred, sat up, and rubbed the sleep sand from his eyes.
    Ginny chuckled quietly and tossed the newspaper onto his lap. "Breakfast will be ready in a few," she said as she headed toward the kitchen. "Won't be much though. I'll have to go to the store and get more food. How long you think you'll be staying?"
    "Not lo... What the hell?" He stared at his blurry, almost unrecognizable picture on the front page. "'Mysterious Night Caper Saves the Day'?"
    Ginny laughed again. "I swear I didn't tell the reporter anything."
    That blinding light that prevented him from beating the thief's ass must have been a camera's flash.
    He tucked the newspaper under his arm and waltzed into the kitchen. The clump in the middle of the frying pan couldn't have come from