I reach a hand down feeling for my clothes. Still dressed. Thank you Lord.
Thirst suddenly overcoming me, I drag my parched body out of bed and straight to the en-suite bathroom. Running the cold water tap I drink straight from the faucet.
After using the bathroom I stumble back into the bedroom and sit down on the edge of the bed. I listen out for movement and can hear Zeff’s deep breaths. He’s still sleeping.
Good. It makes my exit from here all the easier.
I make the bed. My good manners stopping me from not being able to. I can't leave a mess when he was so kind as to let me spend the night.
Then moving quickly and quietly, I go out into the living room to retrieve my shoes and rucksack. Slipping them on, I leave the three hundred euros and the passport photo on the counter, and let myself out the front door with a quiet click of the handle.
I quickly pick up pace running, heading back toward town, back to my place to get showered and ready for work.
The day passes by in a blur. A haze of customers, coffee and sticky pastries. When my shift is finished, instead of going to Zeff’s for training as planned, I go back to my flat.
To hide.
From him.
I feel weird about staying at his place last night. I can’t explain why, I just do. I mean it’s not like we slept together or anything. But the fact it feels weird is ringing serious alarm bells for me.
And when the time comes, and long passes, that I should have been at his place, and I don’t hear from him and he doesn’t come looking, I take it that maybe he feels weird about last night too.
I make myself dinner; well beans on toast, and it’s more out of routine and for something to do than actual hunger. I push the food around my plate, then bin it. I don’t even feed because my stomach just feels all hollow and empty, the thought of anything going into my body makes me feel like I want to throw up.
I know why. Because I’m feeling guilty.
I haven’t thought of Nathan much in these last few days. Not like I used to. I know I want to get over him, but suddenly, since the appearance of Zeff in my life, it’s been happening all too quick and all too easily.
Look at me. A few days around a new guy and I’m forgetting about Nathan. I know I said it was what I wanted, but I didn’t mean right now, and not so quick. I wanted a gradual slip.
But now it’s started to happen way too fast. And I’m not ready. I can’t lose Nathan from the only place I have him. In my memories.
Pulling exaggerated breaths,I try to calm myself and gain some perspective. My head is buzzing.
Going into the bedroom I change into my pyjamas.
I’m probably being stupid stressing over Nathan like this. I mean, I don’t have to forget about him if I don’t want to.
And Zeff … well I know I don’t have feelings for him and he doesn’t have them for me. I got that from the way he laughed when I mentioned about last night’s dinner feeling like a date. So his interference in my feelings for Nathan is a moot point.
But, well … I guess what worries me is in the short time I’ve known Zeff he hasn’t mentioned any other friends or family, except for his dead parents. I’ve never seen him take a phone call or make one, except for the call to the passport guy. He’s never mentioned any plans he has with people, and always seems available to train with me.
I get the distinct impression Zeff spends a lot of time alone. Like me. And when you put two loners together, well, then that loneliness can sometimes surface.
And not in the right way. Usually in a sex way.
A way of staving off the loneliness, for even just a short time. And that can’t happen.
But I’m just worried that the more time I spend with Zeff, that I’ll stop thinking with my head and start thinking with my hormones. They’re already rearing their crazy ass head, and when they take over – well if Zeff’s a willing participant then it’ll just be a forgone conclusion.
I need to stay away from him. While I wait for my passport to arrive I need to put a big thick dividing wall between us, you know the kind with solid concrete blocks, before things go to a place they were never meant to.
No training. No dinners. Nothing.
My mind is made up.
Only, for the rest of the evening, no matter what I do or how hard I try, I can’t seem to stave off thoughts of Zeff from my mind. Ones threatening to override Nathan.
Maybe my fears were founded after all. Maybe I am just fighting a losing battle when it comes to Zeff.
Chapter 12: Out of the Blue
I’m leaving work the next day when I see Zeff’s car parked just down the street from the café, him casually leaning against it, assumedly waiting for me.
I have an involuntary lurch in my stomach.
He’s wearing a fitted cotton black shirt and black trousers. He’s leant up against the side of the car bonnet, elbows resting back on it. He lifts his head in my direction as if sensing my appearance, and his face alights with his crooked smile.
He looks exactly like a ray of sunshine in my world filled with bleakness. And any resolve I had about staying away from him quickly filters out of my mind.
Straightening up, he says, “So yesterday, I woke up and you were gone, Bunny. No note, no breakfast, not even a measly cup of coffee waiting for me … and I’d thought we’d had such a good night together. I thought we had something special. I’m completely heartbroken.” He casts his large hand over his chest, feigning drama. “I don’t think I can ever forgive you for this.”
My lips crack into a smile as I walk over to him. I slap his firm bicep lightly with my hand.
The shock I feel at the connection momentarily stuns me. I thought I was used to it but it seems to have doubled, tripled in strength. Maybe it’s because I’ve not been around him for the last few days.
Finding my voice, although a touch croaky, I say, “Hey, remember we had a deal. No calling me Bunny.” And discreetly, I clench my fist, flexing my fingers in and out by my side, trying to dispel the feeling he’s left me with.
“Our deal was for two days. It’s been two days.” He lifts his arm, shifting back his shirt cuff, he casts a glance at his watch.
“Not for another three hours,” I say, leaning forward, tapping the face of his watch with my fingernail.
He lets out a small laugh. “Now if I’d have known, I’d have waited the extra three hours. That’s why I’ve stayed away. It’s been absolute torture not being able to call you Bunny.”
I grin up at him. Then I realise just how close I am to him. So close I can feel the heat licking off his skin, diving straight into me. I take a large step back.
“So what have you been up to?” I ask, moving into neutral territory.
“I’ve just had some business to attend to.” He sounds suddenly different. Businesslike.
I get the distinct impression it’s not business he wants to talk about with me. And it’s quite possibly not business I would want to know about.
“So anyway,” he says, lifting his voice. “I just stopped by to see if you wanted do some more training tonight. We missed out last night and I’ve still got plenty to teach you, and I might even let you cook me dinner if you behave yourself.”
I like that he doesn’t question my noticeable absence from our arranged training session. Or the fact that I didn’t even call to let him know I wasn’t going.
I don’t even hesitate in my answer. “Sure it’s been a few days since I kicked your arse – sorry nuts.” I raise my brows. “Don’t want you getting complacent now, do we?”
“Is that a challenge, Bunny?” Brows furrowed, he gives me a serious look, with a soft edge.
“What do you think?” I’m feeling mischievous.
He has the ability to bring that side of me out. Actually, he has the ability to bring a lot of sides of me out. He opens the passenger door for me, and I hop in.
“I’d say … yes, and challenge accepted. Prepare to get your ass kicked little l
ady.” He shuts my door with an expensive clunk, and I watch as he walks around to the driver’s side and climbs in.
The minute he’s in the car, I say, “In your dreams, pretty boy.” I give an evil villain laugh.
“You already are, Bunny. You already are.” His voice is low, he’s staring straight ahead, face unreadable, hands resting on the steering wheel.
I tilt my head and stare at him. I wait for him to laugh. To say he was joking. But he doesn’t. And a sensation grabs a tight hold of my heart, twisting and turning, sending a shiver right through me. I swallow against the sudden thickness in my throat, unsure of what to say next.
Then he breaks his gaze and offers a grin my way. He cranks the car to life, “Let’s get going, so I can give you that ass whooping.”
He laughs, but it feels forced somehow.
I laugh too. “You’re a jerk.”
I grin, but nothing about this moment feels right. I feel like I’ve intruded on thoughts I was never meant to hear. And I have no clue how to feel.
So I do what I do best, I scratch over the moment as if it never existed. I erase it from my memory.
Because if I don’t, then I won’t get though the rest of the evening without doing or saying something stupid. Something that could potentially put me in a place I really do not want to ever find myself in with him.
Chapter 13: Weapons
I’m back at Zeff’s place again today.
The training we did last night was excellent. He taught me some great self-defence tactics, and we worked on boxing, and a little kickboxing. I didn’t even know I could kick that high.
It was awesome and really energising, and I also managed not to break him once. I feel like really soon I'll be in a position to be able to defend myself if I need to.
Afterwards we had dinner together. I offered to cook. It’s been a while. The last time I cooked a meal was when I was still living with Eddie. Zeff has plenty of food in so I rustled up a Spanish omelette with salad.
I thought he might like it, being Spanish and all. He seemed to enjoy it, it went down pretty quick. Then we talked until late, drinking beer, regaling stories from when we were kids, things we’d done, mischief we’d gotten into.
And even though I felt I was getting to know him better, he still eluded details. He didn’t once mention his parents in any of his stories. Only a few names dropped in, cousins and friends he said. But that was it.
And I realised. He talks like I do. He holds back any real detail, like there is something in his past he has to hide.
It makes me curious, but I also respect it. Because there are a lot of things I can’t disclose. Things I have to keep locked up inside.
I suppose I could tell him my real name; who I am. Where I came from. I trust him now.
Well, I think do.
But then, Alex Jones, died a long time ago. So maybe she should just stay dead.
I’m sat at the breakfast bar, sipping on lemonade. Zeff’s out back, setting up. I have no clue what he’s setting up for. We’re trying something new today, and apparently it’s a surprise.
I’m not so keen on surprises. But I’m just going along with it.
As long as I get to punch some anger out on the punch bag today, I’ll be a happy lady.
Lately, I’ve been feeling an anger growing inside me. Simmering, bubbling away, but just recently it’s been growing with intensity, and quickly. It’s starting to worry me a little. Okay, a lot.
And I don’t know if it’s because I tasted blood. My – sort of – preferred kind of blood. I know it wasn’t exactly human, but I would think vampire blood nears close to humans, and I know it was only a drop from his finger when I bit him but since then my urges have increased somewhat.
The other thing it could be is the wolf in me. She’s there in my head constantly fighting to get out. I keep caging her up, but for how long can I continue to do so, I don’t know.
It just frightens me what could happen if I do release her.
“Come on Bunny,” Zeff says, head poked around the half-open door. “It’s ready.”
I turn in my seat. “What’s ready?”
He raises an insolent brow. “Well if you get your ass out of the chair and come out here, you’ll see.”
Putting my drink down, I meander over to him. He pushes the door wide open for me and I follow him out onto the porch.
Immediately I see beer bottles lined up ahead on a makeshift wooden ledge, situated between two high stools. A table with an impressive array of guns and knifes. A dummy hanging up off a makeshift stand, and a target board, with a crossbow resting at its side.
I look sideways at him, mouth agape. He meets my eyes, clearly impressed with himself.
“Today is weapons training, Bunny.”
“Eh?”
“Well,” he says descending the steps. “You carry a blade around in your bag, so you might as well learn how to use it.”
“And the guns and crossbow?” I gesture around, following him down the steps.
“Ah, they’re just here for my pleasure.” He casts a grin back over his shoulder, winking. “You might not carry them around Bunny, but you never know what lies ahead and it’ll be good for you to know how to handle them. I’m taking it you’ve never handled a gun before?”
He stops at the table and picks up a fierce looking gun. Silver, shiny and deadly.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’ve seen one before.” Nathan’s. “But never touched one.”
He gestures it forward.
I look from it to him. “What? You want me to hold it?”
“I do.”
“Can’t we just do training with the knives?” I gesture to his impressive collection.
I just don’t trust myself with a gun. I might shoot him by accident or something, and I certainly don’t fancy explaining that to the police. But mostly, I just don’t like them. Guns give off a bad vibe.
“We’ll get to the knife training later. First guns, I want you doing this while you're fresh and alert.” He pushes it forward and I can tell he’s getting impatient with me.
“Look, I just don’t like them, okay. They freak me out. They’re dangerous.”
Ever since I saw that gun in the back of Nathan’s jeans, intended for me, I just can’t bear the thought of them, let alone holding one.
“Bunny, you need to get past whatever issue you have with guns, and fast.” He lowers his tone to a range I don’t like. The hairs on my skin prickle. “Because one of these.” He holds it up between us. “Might just be the difference for you staying free, and alive.”
I close my eyes in brief contemplation, and I see behind my lids the look on that vampire’s face right before he bit me. Then I see Albino. His hands on me. Then I see Jin, biting Sol.
I open my eyes and take the gun from his hand.
It feels cold and smooth on my skin.
“The safety’s on so you’ve nothing to worry about,” he adds. “We’ll go as fast or as slow as you want. We’ve got all day.”
I look up, seeing the tenderness in his eyes, his face. Seeing all he’s doing for me. Knowing how much he cares about me.
“Thank you,” I say. “For doing this for me. For helping me as much as you have done. I’d have been up shit creek without a paddle if it wasn’t for you. Well, actually, I’d probably be just – dead.” I add a weak little laugh onto the end. “And if there is anything I can ever do for you, just tell me, okay?”
His face stays impassive, smooth, but he smiles a little. “Just stay safe and alive. That’s payment enough.”
My heart does something funny; bumping its way clumsily around my chest.
“Come on,” he says, pulling his eyes from mine, he picks up a gun, a black one. It looks similar to the one I’m holding. “I’ll show you how to do target practise.”
Anchoring my heart down in my chest, I follow him over to the makeshift target of beer bottles.
“This why we were drinking beer last night?”
I offer a grin.
He chuckles. “Well that and simply for the carnal pleasure of it
“You know, I drink way too much when I’m around you.” I giggle.
“Well you can get back on the wagon next week, when you’re free of me.” His words thump into the warm air, instantly cooling it.
“Yeah. I guess I can.” I swallow againt my dry throat. It doesn’t run smooth, just like his words didn’t.
“Okay … oh, put these in your ears.” He delves into his jeans pocket and pulls out a pair of ear plugs. “You’re not used to the sound yet, and with your hearing it might shock you a bit. Wear for the first few rounds and then we’ll try without, okay?”
“Sure.”
I take the ear plugs from him, gaining a little shock from the contact, like normal, and push the plugs into my ears.
“Right, just watch me.” He takes the safety off and raises the gun in his hands, finger on the trigger. “I lift to aim, eyes following down the barrel. With what you are going to be shooting at, there’s no blind aim here hoping for a hit like you could with a normal person. You’ve got one – two shoots, if you’re lucky, before he’ll be on you. You’re going for the heart, so that shot has to be a good one. Make it count, because you’re aiming for a very small part on the body.” His voice is so smooth, I feel kind of mesmerised watching him. “Think of it as throwing a dart into the bulls-eye on a board.”
“You’re not selling this you know. And I’m really shit at darts.”
He slides his smiling eyes to mine. I can’t stop the grin on my face.
Aiming his gaze back in place, he says, “Okay, so I focus on the target, then gently squeeze the trigger.”
Original Sin Page 10
