He scowled. “You think you can hear the thoughts of animals?”
“I told you that when we were kids.”
“When we were kids, I believed you.”
“You don’t now?”
“Becca.” He let out a sharp breath. “Really?”
I was both annoyed—he didn’t believe me?—and afraid. He didn’t believe me!
“Reggie!” I called. A few seconds later Reggie appeared.
What?
Yeah, what?
“Ask me something that only Reggie would know.”
“This is crazy.”
“Ask me,” I insisted.
“How would I know what he knows? I can’t talk to him.”
That had sounded more sarcastic than I cared for. If I couldn’t prove that I could hear the animals, maybe I could prove my other talent.
“How do you think Pru was well enough to run out of here this morning?”
“She’s a wild animal. They heal quicker than the wind blows.”
They did. But not the way she had.
“Reggie’s better,” I said. “You’re better.”
“You think you did that?”
“I know I did.”
“If you could heal me as good as new, why didn’t you?”
I couldn’t help it; I dropped my gaze.
“That’s what I thought.”
I lifted my eyes, thinking I’d see anger in his because he understood that I’d been selfish, that I’d stopped healing him last night because I didn’t want him to go. Instead I saw pity, and it confused me. Until he spoke.
“Maybe we should talk to a professional about this.”
“My mom and Raye are about as professional as it gets.”
“I didn’t mean that kind of professional.” He sat in the chair next to mine, took my coffee mug, and set both it and his on the magazine table before he took my hand. “I know a lot of people who could help you, Becca.”
The light dawned. “You think I’m crazy?”
Why did I sound so angry? Why wouldn’t he?
“Listen to yourself.” His fingers tightened around mine when I would have yanked away. “Your sister is an air witch. She can levitate. Move things. See ghosts.”
“Ask her.”
He didn’t even respond to that. “And you think you can hear the thoughts of animals. That you can touch them, touch people, and make them whole.”
“I can.” I tugged on one hand, and he let it go. I set my palm over his injury. Energy snapped. Heat flared. “Let me heal you.”
He stood, practically tripping over his feet to get away from me. I wanted to cry.
“If there’s one thing I learned from my mother’s insanity it’s that I shouldn’t buy into her delusion. I’m not going to buy into yours.”
“Owen, I can heal you. You can g—” My voice broke.
After I healed him, he would leave. This time he might never return. But I couldn’t be selfish. He and Reggie had saved countless lives. Just as he’d let me go all those years ago so that I could have the life I’d dreamed of, I had to do the same now.
I got to my feet. Reggie stepped between us with a huff. His ruff lifted.
Splode.
I frowned. “What’s going to explode?”
“Stop it!” Owen blurted, too loud, his voice broke.
Reggie woofed and crowded me back.
“I have to—” Owen yanked open the door. “Hier.”
Reggie came, though he cast me an uneasy glance. He’d probably never seen Owen this upset. I hadn’t.
My phone started ringing, so shrill I gasped and yanked it out of my pocket, hitting the mute without even a glimpse at the caller ID.
Owen closed the door. He never looked back.
Chapter 25
Owen had to get away. Not forever. Not even for long. But he needed to think. And when he could see Becca, hear her, smell her, touch her—or when she touched him—he couldn’t.
He snapped Reggie’s leash onto his collar, and the two of them began to walk. Without thought, Owen headed for the trees. He wanted to be alone. Or as alone as he got with Reggie, which was good enough. He couldn’t hear the dog’s thoughts.
The cool, calm, shadowed peace of the forest surrounded them. Owen liked it so much better than caves and sand.
“Who wouldn’t?” he murmured, and suddenly …
He didn’t want to go back.
Owen stopped dead on the path, and Reggie, nose down, sniffing at every swaying branch, kept going. He tugged the leash from Owen’s hand—something that never happened when they were working unless Owen wanted it to—and he was gone. Owen didn’t call him back. He was too caught up in this revelation, which wasn’t much of a revelation at all.
He loved Becca. Always had, always would. No matter what.
Was she crazy? He didn’t care. If she was, he’d help her. He was better equipped for that than anyone else.
“But what if she isn’t?”
If she wasn’t, he shouldn’t have let her out of his sight.
Owen whistled. Reggie raced through the underbrush and leaped onto the path. It wasn’t until they erupted into the parking lot that Owen realized something else.
He was running.
*
I stood in the waiting room, staring at the closed door. When my phone started vibrating in my hand, I was glad. It gave me something to do.
“Hello?”