Forbidden Mind (Forbidden #1) Read online

  Forbidden Mind

  by

  Kimberly Kinrade

  Forbidden Mind

  By Kimberly Kinrade

  Published by Evolved Publishing at Smashwords

  Copyright 2011 Kimberly Kinrade

  Thanks to my teammates at Evolved Publishing:

  Lane Diamond for the great edit, and Sarah E. Melville for the epic cover art.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only; it may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter 1

  "Sam, you coming?"

  Tommy yelled for me, but I tried to ignore him. I had a job to do, and getting attached to my target's kid would only make that harder. The six-year-old sported big brown eyes, blond hair and a cherub face I just wanted to pinch. He was the sweetest little kid too. Must have gotten it from his mom, cuz his dad… well, monsters came in many forms.

  This is wrong. You shouldn't be doing this.

  I pushed aside the condemning voice in my head. It pushed back, not allowing me to keep the emotional distance that had protected me in the past.

  Tommy idolized me. He thought I was the niece of his dad's friend, come to visit. He didn't know that 'friend' intended to destroy his dad's business so he could pick up the pieces and steal all the clients.

  I didn't know all the details, just that it involved a lot of money.

  My job? Find Mr. Beaumont's weakness, providing my 'uncle' all the ammo he needed to bury him. Not exactly the typical pastime for a seventeen-year-old—just one more price I paid for being special.

  Fortunately, this ammo didn't need to be business related.

  Unfortunately, digging up dirt on Mr. Beaumont meant gazing into the mind of the monster. I'd have to gouge out my third eye to recover from this assignment.

  I hollered across the house, "Be there in a sec, Tommy." I re-focused my inner hearing to the locked room, where my target thought he was safe.

  'Mmmm, tomorrow night… yes… she will be young… only ten… fresh… never touched… the things I will do to her… touching that innocent flesh… I can't wait to—'

  Enough! My stomach clenched with the unfinished thoughts of this perv running through my mind. At least with this assignment, I could help take down a truly awful man, even if greed was the primary motivator. After most assignments, I craved a hot shower and a sponge to scrub away the guilt, knowing I had destroyed lives or compromised the safety of innocent people just to satisfy the lust of someone rich and powerful.

  This takedown offered a rare satisfaction, though my high was tempered by the knowledge that Tommy would also be a victim of this assignment. He knew nothing of Beaumont's perversions. All he would know, in the end, was that he lost his dad, his home, his whole way of life. It was gonna be a big bang with plenty of casualties.

  I'd seen in Beaumont's mind where and when this meeting would take place. He couldn't hide from me his contacts and past sins, and I became his judge, jury and executioner, all from one conversation.

  He stepped out of his office before I could make my escape from the elegant, white sitting room. His dark blue three-piece suit, nice tan, and fit physique hid the monster lurking beneath the pretty veneer. From his perfectly highlighted caramel hair to his glow-in-the-dark teeth, he screamed "fake." I imagined his skin peeling off to reveal a slimy troll, complete with red beady eyes and swollen pink lips oozing something green.

  What did the little girls see when he first walked in to greet them? Did they see a respectable man in his early 40s, someone safe and nice? Or could they sense the impending danger?

  "Hello, Sam, I didn't realize you were here."

  I just loved playing nice with evil. Not. "I'm looking for my uncle. Have you seen him?"

  "No, sweetie, I haven't. I was on a business call."

  Business call… right! "Okay, thanks, I'll just look around."

  "Are you enjoying your stay here?" he asked before I could leave.

  "Yes, you have a lovely house. Tommy is wonderful. Thank you for your hospitality."

  "You're welcome here anytime."

  I didn't probe his mind, even if I was too old for his tastes. I didn't want another peek into that hell. Still, his offer sent a shiver up my spine.

  I walked into the family room and found Tommy, wearing pressed jeans and a salmon-colored polo shirt, playing on the floor with his yellow truck.

  "Vroom, vroom. Watch this, Sam." He crashed the truck into the leg of a handmade rosewood table. Probably not something Tommy should bang against. The whole room could have been modeled after a magazine spread. Not exactly kid friendly with the $3,000 knickknacks. Who spent that much on a decorative egg?

  The clicking of high heels—Manolo Blahnik, naturally, because Prada was so last season—approached from behind. Mrs. Beaumont pranced in, tall, blonde and elegant, with big brown eyes like Tommy, draped in a cream cashmere dress that hugged her curves. My plaid skirt and white blouse just couldn't compete.

  "Tommy dear, no slamming toys into the furniture. Why don't you go in your room and play?"

  "But Sam is here. I want to play with Sam."

  "Actually," I said, "I'm looking for my uncle. Have either of you seen him?"

  According to her husband's thoughts, she was a dead fish in bed and therefore the cause of his perversions. Yeah, right.

  She looked relieved that my presence would no longer be an argument point for the boy. "Yes, I saw him on his cell phone by the pool just a few minutes ago. He's probably still there."

  I thanked her, gave Tommy a quick hug, and excused myself to the backyard. My bodyguard, a new guy with each assignment, trailed behind me.

  This level of wealth didn't impress me the way it might some. We lived well at Rent-A-Kid, with the best of everything—I'd endured so many formal dinners, etiquette training, and socialization classes. At least we enjoyed everything money could buy. After all, we had to impress and fit in with some of the wealthiest people in the world.

  Still, their custom pool looked more fitting for a resort than a backyard, with slides in different sizes and shapes, and rock formations and plant life strategically placed to give the whole space a tropical feel. A few fruity drinks with umbrellas, and you'd never know you were in Utah.

  Our client, 'Uncle Henry,' stood under a transplanted palm tree engaged in an urgent conversation with someone in hushed tones. His pressed pinstripe suit hardly fit the pool setting.

  Hmmm… wonder what has money bags so riled?

  When he saw me, he ended the conversation and slipped his iPhone into his pocket.

  I so wanted an iPhone, but I'd get in huge trouble if I got caught with a phone. They grudgingly allowed us computers with internet, but it was heavily regulated and monitored. We couldn't so much as move the mouse without someone knowing. Thank heavens my eighteenth birthday—and freedom—was just around the corner.

  On the other side of this last job lay the promised land—a regular life, college.

  "What is it, Sam? Have you learned anything?" 'I really hope she's not reading my mind right now… how can I get her to stop?... lalalala… I hope this plan works and I get rid of this ass… does my wife know about Lisa?... it only happened once… no need to tell her… am I getting fat?... maybe I should hit the gym harder when this is all over… Sam is hot… I wonder… such long silky brown hair… clear skin… bright b
lue eyes… no… she's just a kid… shit… is she listening to me?'

  "I have what you need." I told him when and where he could catch his guy red-handed.

  He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "This is great news. Thanks, I'll call and let them know you did well."

  I turned to walk away.

  His thoughts stopped me. 'How best to play this… what should I do?... could use this information to my advantage.'

  Did I really want to get involved? I'd completed my job. Time to return to Rent-A-Kid. Just walk away. The aftereffects of my work were irrelevant. Not my problem.

  I couldn't move. My traitorous body refused to follow my mental commands to keep walking. My heart beat so rapidly I thought it would leap right out of my chest.

  I turned to face him, questioning my own sanity even as I did. "You are going to stop him from hurting that girl, aren't you?"

  "Yes, of course, I'm as outraged as you. Honestly, I had no idea he had this kind of secret. I assumed we'd catch him at something more benign, like money laundering or tax evasion." 'Disgusting bastard… no idea he was so foul… still… if I get video and pictures… I can blackmail him forever... better than just getting him arrested… right?... more money and control for me… could hire someone….'

  "No!" My outburst surprised even me—the good girl who always followed the rules. "You can't let him hurt that girl and get away to do it again to someone else. You have to stop him."

  "Look, kid, you stay out of my head. I didn't pay you to spy on my thoughts, you hear me?"

  The threat of danger bit at me, warning me. Years of unquestioning obedience transformed into a new, entirely unexpected rebellion.

  I recalled Beaumont's thoughts. His plans. His past deeds. "I really don't care about your money. I do care about that little girl and all the other little girls he might hurt. So you are going to make sure he is arrested and found guilty, or your wife will get a mysterious note exposing your secret with Lisa."

  I reflected on my perfect track record, my future at Sarah Lawrence College, the consequences to those who had broken the rules. I weighed all this in my mind, knowing the answer instantly. I knew too much, saw and heard too much.

  No matter. I no longer cared what happened to me.

  His face turned bright red, hands balled into fists, jaw grinding.

  Might as well add some fuel to the growing fire. "And you should definitely consider hitting the gym. You're getting love handles, and your wife isn't finding them too sexy."

  His hand flew at me, and the pain exploded in my cheek as I crashed into the pool. Darkness drew me close, surrounding me in a watery cocoon. Awareness flittered into oblivion. The pain receded into a dull background noise easily tuned out. I barely felt the strong arms pull me out and lay me unceremoniously on the warm tile.

  My bodyguard helped me to stand. Dizziness sent me into the arms of this no-named sentry, another in an endless line of mind-numbed musclemen.

  He held onto me as I regained my balance.

  I tried to focus my sights on our client, but something blocked my vision. I swiped at my face, and flinched. A giant golf ball had taken up residence in my eye socket.

  I did my best to lock eyes with my client. I'd never been touched by one before, and my whole body shook from the pain, adrenaline, and fear. "You will never touch me again. And you will make sure this pervert is put away for good. If you don't, I'll make your life hell. I can reach you anywhere, find out anything about you, and destroy you. Are we clear?"

  He glared at me, then at my muscleman, and nodded.

  I walked back to the house with the help of my guard.

  "Oh my dear, what happened? Are you okay?" Mrs. Beaumont rushed to me, her lines of concern masked by too many Botox injections.

  "I'm fine, I think. I slipped and fell in the pool. Must've hit my head on the side."

  "Come on, dear, let's get you dried off and get ice on that. Perhaps we should take you to the doctor."

  "No, no doctors. I just need to lie down."

  After a warm shower and dry clothes, I rested on my guest bed with ice packs that Tommy replaced each time they melted.

  "You're a good nurse, kid."

  His eyes glowed bright at the compliment as he eased a fresh icepack onto my face. "You didn't fall, Sam," he whispered. "I saw your Uncle hit you. Why would he hurt you like that? That's not right."

  I sat up to face him. "I'm sorry you had to see that, buddy. You're right, he shouldn't have done that. But I need you to do me a favor."

  "What, Sam?"

  "I need you to keep this just between us. No one else can know, okay?"

  My heart constricted at his confusion and sadness. How could I do this to him? How could I ask him to lie, to cover up abuse, when I just jeopardized my assignment to expose his father? But what choice did I have? I couldn't risk any more problems. I shuddered at the thought of my potential punishments for what I'd already done.

  "You want me to lie?"

  "Oh, Tommy, I don't know. Of course I don't want you to lie. But there's more going on here than I can tell you right now. Do you trust me?"

  "Yes, I sure do!"

  "Then please don't tell anyone, K? And remember, no matter what happens after I leave, I love you and have done everything I can to protect you."

  He nodded and snuggled into the bed with me.

  As he fell asleep in my arms, I thought back to the first time I met Tommy, how instantly we had connected. He glued himself to me, sharing his secrets like I was his favorite teddy bear. Our time at the fair, playing, laughing and being silly—I got to be a kid for the first time in my life. I would never forget that day, or him.

  The next morning, both my eyes were nearly swollen shut. I spent the day dropping into minds to make sure Beaumont would pay for his crimes. If only I could have made him suffer like he made those girls suffer.

  My Rent-A-Kid limo came to pick me up that evening. Time to say goodbye to Tommy.

  He clung to me and cried, begging me not to leave.

  In a move that broke more rules than I could count, I slipped a picture into his pocket of the two of us, from a county fair we'd gone to the week before. Don't leave any evidence of your presence. Avoid cameras and photos. Remove surveillance before you leave. Erase anything with your image on it. They'd drilled those rules into me since I was a kid. But I gave Tommy something no one in the outside world had: a tangible reminder that I'd been there.

  "I don't want you to go. Can't you stay? Please? I promise I'll be good!" He looked at me with those big sad eyes.

  I fought back the tears. "No matter what, remember that I love you. If you ever get scared, just close your eyes and meet me in that special room we made together in our minds. Remember?"

  "Yes, Sam, I remember." His voice cracked on my name. Tears slid down his soft, baby cheeks.

  "I'll always be able to hear you, and you'll know I'm there, okay?" I hoped. Having memorized his mental frequency, I planned to check up on him. Maybe once out on my own, I could find a way to help him. Distance reading was no simple task, but I would get better. I had to.

  I kissed him on the cheek and plopped into the limo, slinging my lucky red backpack onto the seat next to me. My guard sat in the front with the driver.

  A phone rang. I answered it, knowing who it was ahead of time.

  "You broke protocol."

  "Yes, I had to," I replied without remorse.

  "You'd better hope this doesn't get out of our control, Sam. Otherwise, your retirement plans might be affected."

  The threat lingered like the monster of long ago, hiding in my closet at night, waiting for me to fall asleep. Whatever. I didn't regret my choices.

  "Everything will be fine," I said. And I believed it.

  Chapter 2

  No matter how many times I'd been drugged, I still woke up in a slight panic. My body maintained no sense of how long it had been. My subconscious mind had been shut out—definitely the worst part of any a
ssignment. Wait….

  Mary lay in the bed next to mine. That sucked worse.

  She sneered at me from behind her blond hair. "Well, look who finally woke up. Took you long enough. So, looks like you had some trouble. Is Higgins's pet getting lazy?"

  "What do you want, Mary?" Though sick of her games, ignoring her would only inspire her to greater taunts.

  "Nothing. Just waiting on the good doctor, like you."

  I slipped into her mind, like being stuck in the poisonous trap of a viper. 'Thinks she's so great… not that great… not even as pretty as everyone thinks… tits too small… and look at that black eye… looks like she finally screwed up… hope she gets what's coming to her… she's just a goody two-shoes… little priss.'

  Well, nothing new there. Did she ever have any other kind of thought?

  I raised myself on the bed—no IVs or wires stuck to my arms. The world spun just a little through my swollen eyes. Fake flowers in artificially bright colors stood on the table by the window, a futile attempt to cheer up the dreary grey walls and fluorescently lit room.

  "Ah, Sam, Mary, you both wake. Good," Dr. Sato said with a soft voice.

  Why is she nervous?

  Her pronounced Japanese accent, stronger than usual, gave away her unease. "How you feeling?"

  I stretched my arms and moved my neck around to work out the kinks. The inside of my mouth reeked. "Fine, just a bit of a headache." Probably brought on by my roommate. Well, and the black eye.

  "And you, Mary?" she asked.

  "I feel wonderful." Mary crossed her long legs seductively and purred. Her slinky silver gown showed off more than it covered. Who the hell was she trying to impress in here?

  Dr. Sato took my blood pressure, checked my temperature, and examined my eyes and cheek. "You bruised. Bone hurts, but you be better soon. Just no jumping."

  Again with the nervousness.

  I slipped into her mind but met only gibberish, having never had a chance to learn her particular dialect. It unnerved me—nothing clear, as if I'd lost my hearing or eyesight.