by Julie Hall
I nodded.
“Well that’s . . . pretty cool. Let me try it again.” He closed his eyes, and several loud thumps of my heart sounded before I heard him again.
“Logan, stop sending me secret messages about my body parts.”
He bent at the waist and started to belly laugh. “Sorry, you’re just too easy to fluster sometimes.”
“You’re awful, and I hate you.”
“You said that last night too.”
“Yeah, well maybe today I mean it.”
He leaned back against the wall and shot me a smug look. “Not likely.”
Why does he have to be so smokin’ hot when he’s being conceited?
Logan’s smile widened. “I heard that too.”
“Would you get out of my brain? This”—I frantically moved my hands around my head like a hyped-up rave dancer—“is off limits.”
Logan pushed off the wall and extended a hand to help me up. His smug exterior hid a layer of worry and concern I didn’t think he wanted me to pick up because he released me as soon as I was on my feet.
“I will do my best,” he promised. “But it would probably help if you tried not to focus on how gorgeous I am. You know I’m more than just a pretty face. You’re going to give me a complex that you only want me for my body.”
I almost swallowed my tongue, but instead, a wad of spit went down the wrong pipe. I doubled over in a coughing fit.
Logan rubbed my back until the hacking subsided and then bent to look at me. A few latent coughs were still coming out every few seconds.
“I’m sorry, Audrey. I just really like knowing I can get under that shell of yours. That was immature. Do you forgive me?”
I might have believed he was sincere if he hadn’t been grinning wildly.
I glared at him.
“Come on.” He extended his hand. Now that everything was out in the open, I was no longer as apprehensive about the empathy link. “Let’s go make some new memories together.”
I grasped the hand he offered and straightened. “I’d like that very much.”
22
Make Believe
The next days were some of the happiest and darkest of my existence. There was no more talk of a bonding ceremony, for which I was glad. I couldn’t stomach the thought of Logan not moving on with his existence after I was gone, just as much as I couldn’t stand to think of him with anyone else. But I loved him enough to want the best for him and chose to think not of some possible future love but instead of his having a future. Something I’d lost the moment I released Satan from his chains.
Logan made good on his word to spend time with me, but he would mysteriously leave for short periods of time and not tell me what he was up to. He never left longer than an hour, but his disappearances made me suspicious just the same. Whenever I started to grow morose, he did whatever he could to lighten my mood. And for my part, I tried to make these last few days happy for him as well. I put on a good face, but I knew there was truly no fooling him. We weren’t just contending with emotions now. Worried or fearful thoughts would filter to him unknowingly, and he was always quick to reassure me that things would be all right.
But our bond went both ways. When he thought I wasn’t paying attention, I’d catch glimpses of his worried thoughts as well. He wondered what an existence without me would be like and was always plotting ways to change my fate but managed to keep the details concealed from me.
I asked him to abandon his search, for I felt deep in my heart the efforts were hopeless. The darkness marring my back had finally reached its tendrils around my body. The grotesque veins that slithered around my waist and over my shoulder pointed toward the same place . . . my heart. I now felt as if that was the end game. Once the dark thread reached my heart, my time would be up.
But I deserved whatever dark punishment awaited me. Isn’t that what the black mark was telling me? I begged him just to enjoy the time we had left. He said all the right things, but those fragments of thoughts still leaked to me.
Other than his odd disappearances, we spent all our time together. Our friends were extremely busy with the mess I’d made with Satan, yet they still didn’t know the hand I’d played in those events. For whatever reason, Joe must have held back those details, and for that I was extremely grateful.
Logan and I managed one meal with our hunter buddies at Celestial Heights. The dinner was bittersweet. Logan held my hand almost the whole time, and we shared both joyful and sorrow-filled emotions.
Always in the back of my mind was the thought I should approach the Creator, Hugo, or Joe. The idea floated around my consciousness night and day. Distracting myself during the day was easier, but at night I had horrible nightmares of Hell. I’d wake up in a panic, desperate for comfort, but stopped myself from seeking it from the true source of peace, knowing I wasn’t deserving. How could I go to the Creator? I’d betrayed Him.
Each nightmare was a penance I bore. A penance Logan bore when my screaming woke him up. He’d moved me into a spare bedroom at his house and would come running moments after I’d sit up, often drenched in sweat. But I refused to be consoled. I knew that whatever hurt me, hurt him as well. But I reasoned that each tortuous moment I endured would gain me a little more time in this paradise. There wasn’t much logic to those thoughts, but without seeking guidance from the Creator of all, logic was elusive to me at best.
The last few nights, Logan had ended up sleeping on the hardwood floor beside me with only a blanket and pillow for comfort. Perhaps I was being cruel, but we were already too connected. Ceremony or not, our bond slid into place more firmly every day—even every hour—we were together. I was determined to keep some of him intact for the moment I was ripped from his life. Sharing a bed, even if all we did was sleep, was an intimacy I couldn’t engage in.
Two weeks had passed since we returned to our realm. Fourteen days of a different kind of living hell. And then Logan announced at breakfast that he’d arranged some girl time for me.
“I just think it’s important you spend some time with your friends and not just me right now.”
I tried not to read into that too much. I chose to take him at face value rather than believe he didn’t want me around.
“Yeah, okay.” I speared a sausage link and brought it to my mouth.
“Audrey?” Logan waited until I met his gaze. “If you think I can’t tell you’re getting worse by the day, you’re wrong.”
I blinked at him before speaking. “What do you expect me to say to that? I’m trying.”
His smile was gentle. “Yes, love, I know you are. And so am I. But it’s selfish for me to keep you all to myself. You have so many other people here who love and care for you.”
“If that’s what you want, then all right.” I shrugged. I didn’t have much fight left in me.
Logan’s concerned gaze bored into me. I felt it through our bond. He sensed I was emotionally slipping away from him.
“You’ll have a good time today,” he said in an upbeat tone. “You’ll see.”
I snapped my head up and looked at him. “A whole day?”
A day was practically an eternity for us now.
“Trust me . . . please?”
A knock sounded at the front door. He jumped out of his seat and jogged out of the kitchen.
“So, this is where you’ve been hiding her away,” came the slightly peeved voice of my best friend and grandmother. Romona entered the room on high alert, as if looking for a defect in Logan’s home. Her reaction struck me as rather funny. “How many rooms did you say this place has again?”
Way to not so subtly ask where I sleep at night.
“There are three, Grandma. Logan set me up in the guest room on the second floor.” I didn’t tell her he’d been sleeping in there too.
She smiled sweetly at me then turned back around the way she came. Kaitlin dodged her on the way into the kitchen.
“What’s she doing?” I asked.
Kaitlin’s smile was large. �
��I have an idea.”
Logan entered the kitchen, shaking his head. “She just ran upstairs.”
“Why?” This was weird.
“Logan!” Romona yelled from somewhere above. “Why is there bedding on my granddaughter’s floor?”
I covered my face with one hand.
“Romona’s trying to make sure your virtue is still intact. Like I couldn’t have taken that whenever—”
“Not another word.” I pointed at him.
Footsteps pounded the stairs as Romona came jogging down.
“Logan—” she began.
“Audrey’s been having nightmares. I’ve slept on the floor a night or two so I’m there to wake her up if they get bad.”
“Oh.” Her brow furrowed for a moment as if trying to come up with something to condemn him for.
I was both mortified and amused. Especially when Romona seemed bent on giving Logan a tongue lashing regardless.
“So”—I clapped my hands once to break the awkward tension—“what are we up to today ladies?”
Kaitlin rubbed her palms together. “Oh, we have big plans for you today, Audrey.”
I pointed a finger at her. “No. Whatever it is you have planned, cancel it right now. I want nothing to do with whatever plans are attached to that look. None whatsoever.”
“Too late. Everything has already been set in motion, and your jailer over there”—she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at Logan—“has already given his stamp of approval. You have zero choice in the matter.”
“Jailer?”
“Yep, total hostage keeper.”
“That’s hardly fair,” I argued. “You all have been extremely busy, w-with”—I stumbled over my words—“with all the bad stuff going on.”
“Today is different,” Romona inserted. “We have it blocked off especially for you. Doctor’s orders.”
“What doctor?”
“It’s just a phrase. Come on.” She tugged my sleeve. “Let’s go do some girl stuff.”
I reluctantly slipped off my stool and followed the girls to the front door.
“I’ll see you later?” I asked Logan.
He laid a palm on my cheek. Love poured into me through the empathy link.
You couldn’t keep me away, he said directly to my mind.
With a soft kiss, he gave me a gentle nudge out the door with the command to ‘just relax’ right as Romona and Kaitlin linked arms with me and dragged me away from him and what had become my haven over the last few days.
I craned my neck to see him standing in the doorway, watching us walk from view. Something turned in my chest, and I had an ominous thought that I might never see him again.
Believing I existed on borrowed time, every moment felt as if it could be my last. If I had the courage, I would have prayed for more time. But when I dug deep to try, I found that well empty.
23
Girl’s Day
“What exactly is happening right now?” I lifted my eyebrows at Kaitlin—she was less than trustworthy—before turning to Romona for answers.
She was misty eyed with a soft smile on her face. The look did absolutely nothing to put my mind at ease.
The tent in front of me was a deep burgundy made of thick material. Velvet maybe? Kaitlin lifted the flap and pulled me through, Romona right on my heels. When the drape closed, we were in our own personal bubble. Just us and the eight—wait, no, ten—strangers standing around at different stations within the tent. What was this, a salon?
“Why are we at a spa . . . in a tent?” I looked around at the reclined seating area, complete with greenery and a bubbling water feature, and the pedicure chair with little fish swimming around in the footbath.
Ahh, no thank you.
Several seats were positioned in front of a mirror with large exposed light bulbs, and a massage chair waited in one of the corners. Curtains concealed two partitioned areas.
An ornate purple chandelier hung from the middle of the tent, and white twinkle lights ringed the sides, giving everything a soft glow. Next to each station stood several women with broad smiles on their faces.
I didn’t get it. The space was quite magical and beautiful, but . . . huh?
“Not exactly a spa day,” Romona started, “but it’s probably best if you think of it that way.”
Kaitlin clapped her hands. “You ready for some pampering? Because I know I am.”
“Are you really going to keep me in the dark about all this?”
“Yes,” they said in unison and then exchanged a look.
I considered being mad at them, but I couldn’t do it. Honestly, getting pampered was my favorite guilty pleasure, and I had wanted to spend some more time with Kaitlin and Romona before . . . the stabbing sensation was back in my chest. I shoved the pain aside and reminded myself to live for the moment. I didn’t have any other guarantees.
I needed to find a way to say goodbye to these two women. Kaitlin would be difficult . . . but Romona, she wasn’t just my best friend; she was family. Leaving Romona was going to break me almost as much as parting from Logan.
I closed my eyes and shook my head, willing the tears to recede. A gentle hand grasped my shoulder.
“Audrey,” Romona asked, “are you all right?”
I shook my head. They deserved more than I was giving. Maybe I should have come clean to all my friends like I did with Logan.
I just didn’t know how.
Whenever I tried to pray and ask for guidance, I simply couldn’t. I felt too . . . unclean to present myself to the Creator and ask for help. I was on my own.
“No,” I answered honestly, “but this looks like a lot of fun. Where do we start?” I gave Romona a watery smile to reassure her. She pulled me into a hug and patted my back.
“We’re all here for you, you know that, right?” she whispered in my ear. That was a strange thing to say.
I pulled back.
“Of course.” I searched her eyes for answers to questions I didn’t know to ask.
“All right, peeps,” Kaitlin interrupted, “let the beautification begin.”
“No! Five hundred percent absolutely not! This is not happening.” I dug in my heels. I had just learned what was behind curtain number one and wanted nothing to do with it. “Kaitlin, stop pushing me forward, or so help me, I will throat punch you so hard you won’t be able to talk for a month.”
She shoved me forward, her shoulder against my back. My feet slipped over the plush carpet without my having to lift them. Darn this beautiful rug and its strangely slippery qualities.
“Stop being a baby, Audrey, and put your big girl panties on. Or rather, take them off so the aesthetician can wax down there as well.” She snickered.
“Kaitlin, don’t be crude,” Romona snapped from somewhere behind her. “Audrey, it’s just your legs and underarms.”
I tried to turn, but Kaitlin did some weird mixed martial arts movement on me, and the next thing I knew, I was lying flat on my back across the semi-reclined table with the wind knocked out of me.
“I . . . will . . . kill . . . you,” I huffed out.
“Oh silly Audrey.” Kaitlin just laughed at me. “I’m already dead.”
I tilted my head and caught Romona watching wide-eyed from behind Kaitlin.
“Traitor.” I croaked out.
She held up her hands. “This was all Kaitlin’s idea. I had nothing to do with this part.”
“Guilty by association,” I shot at her.
“Oh chill out, Audrey. I promise, you’ll thank us later. Body grooming is very important.” With that, Kaitlin spun on a heel and hightailed it out, pulling Romona with her.
I would kill them both.
“So.” A woman with a kind smile and arms as thick as some of the bulky male hunters appeared above my head, holding a tongue depressor covered in what I could only guess was scalding hot wax. “Where should we begin?”
Double dead . . . both of them.
What must have been a million
hours later, I limped out from behind the curtain, looking for my ‘friends’ with the intent to inflict some serious pain. Hair had been pulled, plucked, and ripped from various areas of my body. That was the first and last time I’d ever go through that. Friends don’t force other friends into painful hair removal.
When I finally spotted Kaitlin and Romona, I stopped in my tracks. They were wrapped in silk robes, looking positively radiant. We’d all had relaxing facials, which gave our skin a lovely dewy look, but while I’d been tortured, they must have gone through a couple more of the stations because they both wore expertly applied makeup and sported Hollywood hairstyles. Romona’s latte-tinted skin glowed even brighter, and her makeup accentuated all her best features without overwhelming her face. Her dark hair was pulled back into a low bun of loose braids that gleamed beneath the chandelier and twinkle lights.
Kaitlin’s makeup was on the heavier side, with its smoky colors making her blue eyes pop like crazy. Her face was flawless and sun-kissed like the beach girl she’d always be. Her hair was swept into a side-do, and it looked like the stylist actually made flower designs out of her blonde locks. She did a little spin for me. The braid of interlocked blonde flowers wrapped around her head and flowed over her shoulder. I’d never seen anything quite as exquisite.
“You both look . . . amazing.” I blinked a few times. This couldn’t just be a girl’s day. “Are we going to a pop-up-prom or something?”
The corners of Romona’s lips curled in a secretive smile.
Kaitlin gave me a toothy Cheshire cat grin. “Getting warmer,” she said. “Now it’s your turn.”
I practically jumped into the seat offered me. Yes please! I’d spent way too much of my afterlife in workout clothes or body armor. I was more than ready to pretty it up.
The makeup artist, a petite redhead, gave me a sweet smile and then turned me away from the mirror so I couldn’t see her work. I found myself facing my friends again.
“Hey now, what gives?”
“You trust us, right?” Kaitlin asked.
