The Organizer

By Natalie Star

Damian Reynolds was destined to be the Organizer of Peace well before his birth. His sixteenth birthday marked a change in his life, one that could possibly affect the future of mankind. But Damian has quirks, issues, and is a natural born klutz so his task is not an easy one. He stays strong for his family and the girl he loves, even though she isn’t what she seems. Jessica has secrets of her own, and for good reason.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natalie Star
• Release date: Dec 22, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311748768

Natalie Star

When Natalie's not reading or writing, she can be found with her husband supporting their two adult children in a thing called life. Or maybe she's running around with her camera taking photos while camping and/or hiking. Or lastly, and most probable - the TV is on in the background while she's perusing her social media sites.Their family resides in the state of Virginia where Natalie's muse keeps her entertained until all hours of the night.Want a free eBook? Contact me! about.me/nataliestarThis Mist Novels are a one of a kind trilogy of twists and turns created in the mind of the author, there is no other paranormal world like it. It's fun, thrilling, and sweet beckoning to be read by teens and adults alike.

Book preview

Prologue

Sitting down for the evening in front of the television I felt my pregnant stomach tighten. This was nothing new; I’d been feeling this sensation for a few weeks now. This time, however, I grimaced and my hands flew to my stomach. My reaction didn’t go unnoticed.

Billie, are you okay? My husband, Tyler, placed his hand on my shoulder. Is it the baby?

Squeezing my eyes shut, I waited for the contraction to end. I blew out a breath and placed my hand on top of Tyler’s. We’re both fine. I think the real contractions are starting, and our little one should be born soon.

His face lost all expression and paled.

It’ll be okay, Tyler. I promise. I laughed softly, and reached up cupping my palm to his cheek to try and calm him.

Did you have a vision? he asked.

About the birth? No. About our boy’s future? Yes. Everything works out. We’ll all be together. Isn’t that right, baby Damian? I rubbed my very pregnant belly. Tyler’s shoulders relaxed somewhat, but a look of concern marked his brow.

It was late at night and there was a loud knock at the front door. Tyler looked at me to see if he should answer it. Pausing for a moment I heard a voice in my head that could only belong to one person. It’s Ramey. Relief washed over her Tyler’s face, and he ran to get the door.

I heard Tyler rip the door open, and in hushed tones he spoke to Ramey. I was too busy with another contraction building to hear what they were discussing.

Well, now. Look at the little Momma. He smiled, and bending over he placed a small kiss on top of my head. I held a finger up and closed my eyes. Ignoring the fact that I was having a contraction, he continued to speak. "Well, maybe not little. I know it’s been months since I’ve seen you. Last time, you weren’t even showing your baby belly, but no worries, you look radiant."

Blowing out a breath and slowly opening my eyelids, I took him in and grinned. Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself. Patting the couch next to me, I invited him to sit.

Tyler paced back and forth in front of us, and paused to speak. Can you guys still do that Keeper thing and communicate in each other’s heads after all this time?

Sure. How do you think I knew he was at the door? I smiled.

Yeah, that…right. Just please don’t keep anything from me. Speak all of your words out loud.

We will include you in every thought. Ramey assured him and nodded his head.

I turned my attention to Ramey while rubbing my belly. How did you know to come here now?

That’s top secret information. He pointed to his temple.

I swatted at him and groaned. You’ll never change. He laughed at my half-hearted attempt to be playful.

"I knew it was time, so here I am." Ramey shrugged, but his brows pulled together.

Tyler came to an abrupt stop with his pacing. If you’re here now…early, does that mean trouble? We didn’t expect you back, not until Damian neared the age of sixteen.

Ramey hesitated–something he never did. Now both Tyler and I were staring at him, waiting on his next words. I honestly don’t know, but you both realize I would do anything for this family, right? I placed a hand over his and gave it a squeeze, thankful to have his friendship. Tyler picked up where he left off and began pacing again. How far apart are they? Ramey asked.

How far are what? Tyler didn’t bother to look at either of us and continued on his path.

The contractions, how far apart are they?

Tyler stilled and smacked a palm to his forehead. That’s what I’m forgetting, to time them!

I’ve only had three real contractions and they’re about ten minutes a part, as far as I can tell.

Good. We have a little bit of time. Do you have your bags packed for the hospital? Ramey asked. I nodded.

I’ll go get them. Tyler hurried out of the room.

Wow. Talk about anxious. Ramey pointed over his shoulder in the direction Tyler went.

He’s nervous. First time dad and all. I’ve seen the visions… I know how it all ends. I told him and thought for a moment it would settle his nerves, but—

Tyler came rushing in without the bags. What was I doing? He scrunched his face up.

Getting Billie’s bags for the hospital.

Oh, yeah! Be right back.

Ramey shook his head. Something tells me, no, his nerves aren’t settled. We both laughed.

***

With the contractions coming a steady five minutes apart, we all decided it was time to go to the hospital. Heading out and locking up the backdoor, I hunched over and grabbed my stomach, breathing through yet another contraction.

Tyler rubbed my back. Once the contraction was over, I walked to the center of the backyard. Not because I wanted to, but I felt a strong urge to do so.

Billie, what are you doing? Tyler asked. He started my way until Ramey held up a hand to stop him.

Just give her a minute, Ramey said. Tyler’s eyes widened and he gave Ramey a look like he was crazy.

With my face to the heavens, I extended my arms out to my sides. I took a deep breath and felt power swell up from the center of my core. Gifts of the past were combining and giving me strength. I hadn’t used all of my gifts in recent years; I had no reason to. First, the gift of foresight made my vision blurry; next, the gift of strength rocked through my swollen belly, warding off the contraction that was just about to crest; and lastly, the gift of mind speak sent a surge of power from my stomach to my head like a bolt of electricity. I exhaled and took another deep breath. With that breath, my whole body warmed from the inside out. I saw a glow coming from my center, and beams of light shot from my fingertips, splaying light on the earth around me. The luminosity faded and left as quickly as it came. When it slipped completely away from my body, I turned to the guys, who stood staring at me with their mouths agape. I’m ready. I smiled and headed to the car.

Tyler looked at Ramey and lifted an eyebrow. This baby won’t be an extraterrestrial or a ninja warrior at birth, will it?

Ramey let out a dry laugh. "No, Damian is mostly human. Come his sixteenth birthday, I don’t know what to expect, but I’ll be there for you guys. You can count on that."

Part One–The Girl

Chapter One

Sixteen years later…

It wasn’t the first time, and probably not the last that I’d sit in the back of a police car. Ironically, I wore my Been there. Done that. t-shirt, but the evening was different from usual–I’d been handcuffed. The cold metal painfully dug into my wrists, and I was not in a comfortable position to be sitting in. As we approached my house, I expected to stop. Instead, the driver accelerated and drove right past.

Hey, Joe! Where we goin’? My house is back there! I yelled through the partition that divided us. It angered me when he didn’t respond, except to say, Hush it up, boy!

I asked a few more times and nothing. Being I wasn’t as drunk as usual, I accepted the fact that he was ignoring me and I chose to be silent from that point on. My eyes followed the nighttime darkened landscapes of our nothingness town go by. Passing by trees, houses, more trees, and more houses, we arrived downtown. The sobering drive only reminded me of how much I hated my town and everything in it. I couldn’t wait to get out of there as soon as I graduated–or turned eighteen–whichever happened first. I was set to graduate a year early, but I messed that up. Didn’t feel like homework, or even showing up to class, was important.

The police cruiser pulled into a parking spot in front of the police station.

Great.

Joe took in a deep breath and blew it out as he opened my door. Looking toward the station, he crinkled his forehead.

Move it, boy, he demanded.

Okay–okay, chill. I stumbled a bit upon exiting the car, not so much from my drinking, but I can be the clumsy type sometimes.

Joe, who was usually pretty cool, took me inside. He removed all of my personal belongings from my pockets, the cuffs from my wrists, and then shoved me into a holding cell. Reaching down, I rubbed the red marks on my skin while Joe shot me a sly grin. This was most definitely new and interesting. I think he wanted to scare me by using a new tactic, or at least make me nervous, but I was far from it. I found it quite entertaining, and it was nothing at all like the drunk tanks from movies.

Making my one call home, relief washed over me as my mother answered the phone. She was on her way, sans dad.

I leaned my back up against the bars to the adjoining cell, refusing to sit anywhere. I didn’t want to touch anything. It didn’t look sanitary.

Unaware of time’s passage, I heard Joe’s voice echoing down the hall.

"You need to teach that boy a lesson…I know he has his issues, but you need to stop babying him. I think he’s mighty capable of understanding that what he’s been doing is unacceptable."

Thank you for your concern, a woman’s voice replied. My mother. I could hear her footsteps slow as they approached my cell. Mom lost her fake smile when she saw I was locked up next door to a very large, very tattooed, very passed out biker. She gasped. Officer Joe! How could you lock Damian near...someone…someone like that! She pointed in the direction of the biker, and turned her head away in disgust.

Officer Joe shook his head, and he explained, The biker was passing through town, he passed out at the local bar, and won’t be waking up any time soon. Mom didn’t look pleased, even after the explanation. Joe slowly unlocked my cell to release me.

At the front desk I was given back my wallet, and Joe made a big deal out of taking the brand new pack of cigarettes and my lucky lighter. He tossed them in the trash. The lighter made a clank in the bottom of the empty metal can, and then he glared at me.

Mom and I left without another word.

At home, I went up the stairs directly to my room, skipping every other step.

Due to the thin walls, and the fact that I left my door open, I could hear my parents talking. My mother hadn’t mentioned the trip downtown to my father, thankfully, but I needed to remember to keep my mouth shut. I didn’t want to hear his incessant nagging about my behavior; it was such a drag.

Chapter Two

"You know I love my mother and all, but she creeps me out sometimes. Lately she looks at me like she knows something I don’t. This morning, she had that very same look when she was talking about how I’ll be sixteen soon. She made a big deal out of it. It’s not like I am a chick and need a big flamboyant party to say, ‘Hey, look at me, I’m a big girl now’. Yeah, so whatever, right? Well, no. She wants me to celebrate with my friends on a different date than my actual birthday. That’s fine, but she said on my birthday she wants to spend the entire day with me. Just me–and get this–she’ll let me skip school. That part is cool, but I don’t know about the part where I spend all day with her. It’s not like we’re best friends, and what the hell are we gonna talk about? This is gonna be a nightmare. I finally drew in a deep breath as Jon, my best friend since I can remember, stared at me. Or maybe he was staring through me, judging by his blank expression, it was probably the latter. Dude, did you hear anything I just said?" I rubbed a hand on the back of my neck while contemplating a cigarette.

Yes. I heard it, heard it all. It’s only one day with your mom. I like your mom. And that’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk at once. This must really be stressing you out. He spoke so nonchalantly about it.

Do you like her enough to spend time alone with her? I challenged. "Like, a whole day with her, and only her?" I chose to ignore his comment about stress.

"Sure. She isn’t my mom, so it would be cool… and besides, your mom puts up with all of your crap. She should get an award of some sort for having to deal with you." His vision dropped to my knee- I’d been bouncing it up and down. Something I did often and I couldn’t stop, either. I’d been doing it as far back as I could remember. I was usually unaware that it was happening though, but when it became obvious to me, I’d stop it. Pressing my hand to my thigh, I held it down.

He was right; I did what I wanted, when I wanted, and it wasn’t always good or legal. Cutting school, drinking, smoking, and sneaking around after curfew were not admirable things to do.

"Hey now, I’ve been on the right path this week." I thought back on my trip to jail a few nights ago. Something I wasn’t proud of, so I didn’t feel the need to mention it to Jon. I always kept things like that hidden from people. That was my thing, being mostly a loner.

D, it’s only Tuesday. I bet you can’t make it another day.

The bell rang and he hurried to his next class. I lingered in the hall and realized what Jon said was right. I couldn’t make it another day. Passing on class, I ducked out of the side door of the building from the very same school my mother and father used to attend. I walked around town for the day, where I knew it was safe and no one would catch me. When school was just about over, I headed home.

Home, only three blocks from the school, was safe. Mom was going out to lunch with some friends, and dad was off interviewing for a band he manages; they needed a new guitarist.

The people my parents purchased their antique convertible from hooked dad up with a contact in the music industry. Dad took a big risk by quitting his office job. It was the wildest thing I’d ever seen him do. I’m gonna guess it was a midlife crisis decision, albeit a crazy one. Luckily, it paid off; things were going well for the band.

Walking through a row of houses, each placed neatly next to one another, my stomach twisted as I got closer to home. While my house might have been safe, four houses before mine belonged to my grandparents. Needing to get past them, I walked as fast as I could, but my fastest wasn’t good enough.

Damian Reynolds!

"Shit," I muttered and froze.

My grandmother came up behind me and smacked me on the back of my head. You know I have to tell your parents about this, right? I don’t understand why you can’t follow rules. If the school day wasn’t almost over, I would march your butt right back over there. You go straight home, and I will be phoning your father. She gave me a shove toward my house and walked away, mumbling to herself.

I walked slowly the rest of the way home, kicking a rock along the sidewalk and reaching my hand out, letting the neighbor’s bushes scrape against my palm. I approached my house and started up the driveway. Looking up from my feet, I was startled to see a figure on my porch.

Damian, it’s a little early to be home from school, isn’t it? Uncle Ramey–who isn’t really my uncle, just a good family friend–was at my front door, unlocking it to go inside. That man would show up at the strangest times.

Grandma would agree. I sighed.

I wouldn’t have said anything to your parents, but it’s a moot point now that Joanne knows.

Thanks anyway. I brushed past him to get inside. Heading upstairs, I skipped every other step going to my room, as usual. Deciding on a nap, I plopped down on my futon (the most uncomfortable bed ever), but I insisted on having it because it looked cool. My parents argued me on that, but I kept up my plea for the stupid bed, and I got it. I never once complained, though; there’s nothing worse than a chorus of I told you so.

I was napping soundly when my father came in. Damian, wake up! I didn’t move. Slowly, I opened my eyelids half way to acknowledge his presence. He glared down over me, clenching his jaw.

What?

You know damn well what. I could tell from past experience his gears were going, and then his eyes went cold. I had a feeling he wanted to lay into me, but my mother walked in.

Tyler, go easy on him. Mom gazed at him lovingly. He relaxed, gave her a look of some sort that I couldn’t begin to understand, and then he backed off. I could never get that. Dad’s always been the disciplinarian and mom was the peace keeper of the family. But no matter how much he tried to discipline me or teach me a lesson, mom would always show up to diffuse the situation. And strangely enough, he’d always adhere to her requests.

I wasn’t feeling good, and came home to nap. I lied. It’s easier that way.

My mother said you looked fine, but I guess you don’t look so good now. My mom came over to feel my face. You feel cool. No matter; next time, please go to the nurse and do this the proper way. It would save us all some grief. She leaned over to kiss the top of my head, and I flinched- she was in my personal space. My father frowned at me from my doorway.

They walked out into the hallway, and I could hear them ‘discussing’ my behavior. Dad wasn’t pleased that mom went easy on me all the time, but then she made some sorted comment about how the day is coming soon. Whatever that meant, I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. I just wanted to get back to my dream; it was a beach dream. Girls in bikinis. Nice.

Chapter Three

Later that evening, I was sent to my grandparents’ house to help my grandmother move stuff from the attic to the shed. I think it was her own personal way of punishing me, since my mother didn’t allow it at our house. My grandmother’s house (and I called it that because my grandfather would never have decorated it in the cornflower blue country theme that my grandmother had) it was old and out of date, but neat and tidy. Everything had its place.

I took down tons of boxes and Rubbermaid containers from the attic. I dragged them through the house and out the backdoor to the shed. At the shed, grandma instructed me on the where and how to put everything. Arriving at the second to last of the boxes, I lifted it by the rim of the lid. It popped open, and the contents spilled all over the ground.

Shit Grandma, I’m sorry. I’ll get it. I put a hand out to stop her from bending over.

Yes, you will get it…all of it, and watch your language while you’re at it.

Sorry…. I held up pages from off the ground. Pages yellowed with age. Hey, what are these?

"Those are drawings my brother once drew.