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She hesitated, and shrugged. “Tommy led the street gang I started running with." No wonder she'd empathized with Monica. She'd been in much the same situation as the teenager—young and confused, with no one listening to what she wanted. An easy target for evil. Though why she thought Tommy was in the same league as Jasper, he couldn't say. Maybe it was merely a reaction to her memories, her fear.
"How did you meet him?"
She licked her lips. “I was in a store his gang was robbing. One of the kids was bashing the old guy at the register, and I stopped him."
"Kinetically?"
She nodded. “It was the first time it happened. Up until then, I hadn't really done much more than have the occasional dream."
Images of her parents’ death flickered through her mind, images not faded by time or acceptance. She must have dreamed of their deaths. “How old were you?"
"Fourteen."
Fourteen years old and no doubt going through puberty. Most talents didn't fully appear before then. Add on top of that the fact she'd seen her parents die, once in her dreams and once in reality, and it was no wonder she'd been pretty messed up.
And in many respects, still was.
He might not be able to stay here with her and share his dreams or his heart, but he could give her peace. If he could keep her talking. “What happened?" "Tommy happened. He'd swung around and our gazes met—” She hesitated, then shrugged. “I know it sounds corny, but at the time, it felt like I'd just met my destiny. He was gifted, like me, and seemed to know I needed help."
More than likely he'd seen the potential of her abilities and had known the power that one day would be hers. And had wanted it, as Jasper wanted it. Michael clenched his fist. Nikki glanced at him, and he forced himself to relax. “So you joined his gang?"
She nodded. “He was good to me, at least at first. He taught me how to survive the streets, taught me how to control and use my gifts."
Pain swirled around him, a gossamer veil he could almost touch. “When did it all change?” Though he could see the answer in her thoughts clearly enough, he wanted her to talk about it. Maybe then she would see that Tommy wasn't the savior she thought him to be. The bastard had done little more than take advantage of a frightened young girl.
"When I turned fifteen.” She shuddered, and he had to resist the urge to hold her close and caress all the hurt away. “Everything changed. He became possessive, never letting me out of his sight. Sometimes it felt as if he was in my mind, governing my thoughts, my actions." If Tommy's telepathy had been as strong as she seemed to think, then that was probably just what he'd been doing. Fifteen years old and barely in control of her gifts, she would have had little resistance when it came to subtle mind merging. He clenched his fingers again, then slowly straightened them out. Tommy was dead, and there was nothing he could do about the past—other than help her through the pain of it.
"When did this extend to trying to control your gifts?" Her gaze jerked to his. “How did you know?"
He grimaced. “It wasn't hard to guess, given your reaction to our link." Her gaze skittered away, but her thoughts were clear enough. She still wasn't comfortable with the link, still wasn't comfortable with him. Maybe she'd never be. Attraction or not, it was only the thought of Jasper invading her mind that kept her on the bed with him, kept her talking. At least he had something to thank Jasper for.
"What happened?” he asked softly.
Fear shimmered through the link. “Tommy gave me a ring for my next birthday. He told me he loved me.” She hesitated and swallowed. “What did I know of love? He was my world, all that I had left since my parents’ death. But maybe he could see the doubts, because he asked me to prove what I felt for him."
"How?” The question came out more abruptly than he'd intended, and she looked up quickly. He forced a smile, though it was the last thing he felt like doing. “What did he ask you to do?"
"Merge minds. Even though I sometimes feared him, and what he could do, I saw no harm in it. It was something we'd been practicing for a while.” She shuddered. “Only this time it was deeper. This time it was complete."
He could see the chaotic results in her mind. Her gifts, controlled by Tommy, had been used in violence. No wonder she now feared any sort of mind-link.
"What did you do?"
"What could I do?” Her question was almost a plea. For an instant she was very much a confused and frightened teenager, not a twenty-five-year-old woman. “I was sixteen years old and had no one I could turn to for help. Not that Tommy would have let me run. He knew my thoughts, and he could stop me, make me do things...” She paused, and a tear ran down her cheek. The first crack in the wall, Michael thought, resisting the urge to wipe the drop away. It wasn't over yet. She had to face up to the destruction she'd unwillingly caused.
"What sort of things?"
She wouldn't look at him. He placed a finger under her chin and gently tilted her face upwards. “What did you do, Nikki?” he said, closing his heart to the pain in her eyes and her thoughts.
"Tommy pulled a bank robbery, but it went wrong.” She jerked away from his touch and dashed the tears from her eyes. “I'd refused to take part, and for some reason, Tommy hadn't been able to make me. Instead, I waited a block away with a getaway car. But the police had received a tip and were waiting."
Which didn't explain the pain he could almost taste. “What happened, Nikki?"
"Tommy escaped, and the police and security guards chased him. He came straight back to me. He used my gifts to ... to..."
She hesitated again, and more tears glimmered on her cheeks. He made no move, though he ached to hold her.
She took a deep breath. “He used my kinetic abilities to destroy several police cars. One of the security guards he threw through a store window. The falling glass cut the guard's throat. Another was thrown into a wall and now lives in a wheelchair. I couldn't stop him, Michael. I fought so hard, but I just couldn't stop him."
