Free At First Touch by Mattie Dunman Page B

here.” He stopped and looked at me steadily, waiting for a response.
    To my intense embarrassment I found that I was crying. This was apparently not the reaction Carey expected me to have because he immediately turned bright red and started stuttering. I took great big gulps of air, trying to stave off the desperate sobs I felt building in my chest.  It didn’t matter that the man was a criminal, a murderer, and probably many more things.
    I had violated his mind, altered it for my own benefit. 
    I had raped his mind.
    I had done what I despised most; I took advantage of someone defenseless, because there was no defense against my ability.
    In that moment I truly hated myself.
    I was barely aware of Carey as self-loathing overtook me and I sat with my hands over my face, tears streaming down my arms and wetting the fabric of the gloves. When the sobs finally quieted, I realized that Carey had pulled me into his arms and I was pressed against the comforting warmth of his chest as he murmured softly in my ear, stroking my hair. I jerked away abruptly and dashed the wet from my cheeks with my fists.
    “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I rambled, trying to control the shaking in my hands. I looked anywhere but his eyes, afraid to see the disgust and contempt that must be in them. “Just let me out, I’ll walk from here. I’m so sorry.”
    Carey grabbed my shoulder in one hand and turned me roughly so I was staring straight in his eyes.
    “Don’t apologize. It’s me that should be sorry. I was curious and so I went about this all wrong. I knew you were in some kind of trouble and I just dropped this on you. Please don’t cry,” he pleaded, his eyes soft and warm with apology.
    “No, it’s not your fault. I’ve done a terrible thing. Terrible. I’m so sorry I got you involved in this. Look, if you’ll just drive me home I swear you’ll never see me again,” I promised. I would call Dad right away and tell him we had to get out of town. We would hastily pack our things and I would change our names and get new fake birth certificates and social security numbers, create identities and histories, and we would disappear again.
    He looked at me steadily. “Then I’m definitely not taking you home. I don’t want to never see you again.”
    My control was so weak that his thoughts were flooding into my mind unchecked. I could hear his genuine regret, his attraction to me, his curiosity and shame that he had made me cry. He was wishing he could take it back, he was afraid he had scared me away, he wished I would trust him, he would never hurt me. With a struggle that nearly made me break out in a sweat, I managed to close the connection; but I was grateful I had gotten that glimpse of his thoughts. At least I knew he didn’t hate me.
    I took a deep breath. He deserved at least part of the truth. I couldn’t tell him everything, at least not until I discussed it with Dad, but I could give him an explanation based in reality.
    “Ok, Carey. I’m going to tell you some of what’s going on. Try to understand, I can’t tell you everything; knowing too much could be dangerous for you.”
    He opened his mouth to say something then closed it, nodding. I took another deep breath and stared at my hands.
    “My dad and I are in hiding from…an underground organization. These people found out about…certain…abilities of mine and kidnapped me about a year ago.”
    “What?” Carey gasped. I nodded and held up a hand for him to be quiet.
    “They kept me prisoner for a week before I was able to escape. Don’t ask me how, I can’t talk about it,” I qualified, accurately reading his avid expression. “They wanted to make me do things I didn’t want to do, things that would have hurt innocent people. My dad and I have been hiding from them ever since. When I saw Fitz,” here I prepared to stretch the truth a bit. “I knew he was one of their men sent here to get me. I…neutralized him before he could call it in, so I