by C. L. Parker
Kerrigan stumbled, and Dominic grabbed for her. He managed to get a hold on her right hip and something ignited within her. A wave of euphoric bliss shot through her body, radiating from the spot where his thumb pressed into her skin. Kerrigan couldn’t help but close her eyes as the immense feeling of pleasure undulated through her. It was like that fluttering feeling one gets in their stomach as they’re perched on the top of a roller coaster, teetering on the edge just before the big drop.
His touch was too much to absorb, and she was growing increasingly dizzy. The room spun like she was on a merry-go-round, and a gush of air escaped her mouth. She clung to Dominic’s forearm with one hand and pressed the other to his chest. When she stumbled back toward the railing, Dominic dropped the towel he had been using to dry his hair and wrapped his other arm around her waist. Gravity pulled them both toward the edge of the landing, so he grabbed onto the banister and pinned Kerrigan to him, preventing their fall.
“Whoa there!” Dominic chuckled as he looked down at her. “Are you okay?”
He removed the hold he had on her hip and slid his hand around to her lower back, keeping her from tilting and falling over the edge. The dizzy feeling didn’t dissipate completely, but it was markedly diminishing. His breath fanned out over her face – cold, like fresh fallen snow. The unusual coolness of his breath wasn’t possible, but she couldn’t deny the goose bumps that broke out across her skin. Surely she was just imagining things in her state of delirium. Kerrigan inhaled his scent, her mouth parting in anticipation of something that didn’t come.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered, his frosty breath floating across her parted lips.
It was all Dominic could do to stave off the urge to take her pouty bottom lip between his and taste her. It would have been so easy. He was so close, and her body seemed to be so receptive to his. But he knew it would never stop there. He would want more.
Finally, her eyelids fluttered open, and she just smiled up at him. It was a docile smile, one of complete and utter contentment. Dominic searched her face with a concerned furrow between his brows, trying to decipher if she was lucid enough to stand on her own because he really didn’t know what she had to be so damn happy about. She could have fallen over the banister and been seriously injured or worse, and she was smiling like she was tripping on ecstasy. Maybe she was tripping.
“Hey.” Kerrigan bashfully caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she fought to stop grinning like an idiot.
“Hey.” His voice was deep, seductive, and he was smiling down at her.
Just then, Gabe’s bedroom door opened. “Damn, Kerr, you don’t waste any time do you? I told you those yoga sessions I forced you to go to would come in handy. Quick, downward facing dog! Put it on him, girl!” he said while making lewd motions with his hips.
Priscilla grabbed Gabe by his shoulder and yanked him back into the bedroom before closing the door. Kerrigan rolled her eyes and tried to right herself, but Dominic’s body was still pressed to hers, leaving no room to move. His chest vibrated against hers as he laughed at Gabe, and Kerrigan struggled to straighten.
“Oh.” Dominic pulled back to give her some mobility. “Sorry about that.”
“So, um, what the hell was that?” Kerrigan’s finger did a circular twirl in the air.
“You were going to fall, so I caught you.” He ran his long fingers through his wet hair. Kerrigan itched to touch it.
“No, not that.” She tilted her head to the side in contemplation. “You seriously didn’t feel that?”
Dominic smiled a row of perfect white teeth that reminded her of magazine ads with men in tight boxer briefs. “Well I suppose that depends on what exactly it was that you were feeling,” he said suggestively.
He lowered his hand to readjust himself in his pants and chuckled when he noticed Kerrigan’s eyes following his movement. She quickly averted her attention to his chest and then to his eyes, not able to find anywhere to look that wouldn’t make her blush in discomfort.
Dominic stood there. All bronze-skinned, wet hair, and sexy green eyes. He was half naked, wearing nothing but a pair of perfectly fitted jeans, with a perfectly chiseled chest, and a perfectly seductive smile. Her gaze raked over his neck where the tattoo extended over his left shoulder and down to cover his left bicep. She continued her assessment further, over his perfectly toned abdominal muscles, the little happy trail smattering of hair on his stomach, and then inadvertently landing on his…
Oh. My. God bless the makers of Levi’s.
The jeans he wore hung low on his hips, showcasing that perfect V-shape of muscles that dipped under the snug waistband. Sweet baby Jesus, they were button-flies.
Her eyes swept toward the floor where she found his bare feet, not surprised they were perfect, too. Trying not to look at him wasn’t working because there was just so much to look at, and he was in such close proximity. She closed her eyes instead and took in a deep breath to gather her senses. That wasn’t much help either, because then she got a whiff of him.
His smell. She caught the distinct aroma of soap, mixed with a minty freshness and wrapped up in a hint of cologne that smelled amazingly similar to the scent that always wafted through the air when she walked through the doors at Abercrombie and Fitch. She exhaled in a gush, disappointed that she couldn’t keep inhaling him, but deliriously happy that she could start all over again with another breath. Her delirium was probably an effect of her light-headedness, too much oxygen and eau de Dominic to the brain.
“You like what you see?” His deep voice shook her out of her haze as his cool breath washed over her cheeks.
Her eyes shot open as embarrassment at being caught in a daze crept up her neck and flushed her cheeks. “I, um…” she stuttered.
Dominic laughed at her blundering and bent over to pick up the towel he had dropped. Her gaze momentarily landed on his right shoulder. There, she saw a flicker of a scar before he swung the towel over it and hid it from view. She was even more confused than she had ever been up to that point. She thought she knew that scar. Its shape was so familiar.
“Get your fat ass in here!” Gabe yelled, peeking out his door again. “This shit ain’t gonna’ put itself away.”
I am going to kill my best friend, Kerrigan thought, but she knew that if she didn’t go, he would just keep it up and probably say something even more embarrassing.
She turned back toward Dominic and found his piercing green eyes still trained on her. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Although she had a lot of questions she wanted to ask him, Gabe was still standing there with his hands on his hips, tapping his foot.
“So, I’ll see you later?” Kerrigan asked. Then she rolled her eyes at her own statement and mumbled under her breath. “Of course you’ll see him later, you idiot. He lives here.”
“Definitely later,” he answered with a lopsided grin, drying his hair with the end of the towel. “And for the record, I happen to think your ass is perfect.” He ogled it unabashedly from the side and then turned toward the staircase leading back up to his room.
Kerrigan watched him walk away. The muscles in his back flexed with his movements, and she followed the smooth lines down to the waistband of his jeans where she caught sight of two dimples on either side of his lower back. She tilted her head to the side to check out his ass as he turned the corner to go up the stairs. He definitely had the total package. She silently thanked the makers of Levi’s once again for constructing those jeans just for him and all his assets.
She half-laughed to herself and drew her attention away from his retreating form to go to Gabe’s room. She needed to get a grip on herself. She had no clue why he had even been staying there – although she knew that her grandmother would’ve had good reason – and there she was, barely able to keep from throwing herself at him.
That marking on his shoulder, she could’ve sworn that she knew it from somewhere. She made a mental note to question him later. There was a lot she needed to know: what that mark was, how he
came to be living with her grandmother, why he was wearing the bracelet she made, why he had sworn to protect her, but most pressing was how her body could react to his so intensely when she didn’t even know him. She had a feeling that mysterious man had all the answers she was seeking. She was going to pry it out of him if it was the last thing she ever did.
It had been a week since Availia’s funeral. Priscilla and Hudson worked tirelessly to help Kerrigan and Gabe get the house in order. All of their things were moved in, their new rooms set up, and all the household affairs were switched into Kerrigan’s name. With everything done, Hudson and Priscilla would be leaving the next morning. Kerrigan and Gabe would finally be on their own without the constant supervision of her parents. While she relished the freedom that was to come, she just couldn’t seem to relax. She hadn’t slept well all week. Instead, she tossed and turned with every creak and groan of the old house. It was eerie, but familiar.
She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Dominic all week. There was the occasional fleeting glance or passing pleasantry, but for the most part, he remained in his room. She could hear him pacing back and forth like a caged animal every night, and she couldn’t fathom why he seemed to be so irritable and frustrated. Sometimes she even heard the crash of what sounded like something being thrown around, but she didn’t dare go check on him. He was entitled to his privacy, and she didn’t know him well enough to invade his space.
The tantrums came and went, replaced by the occasional strumming of a guitar or the sound of bluesy rock music filtering from his stereo speakers and seeping into her bedroom. The music had a calming feel, like the quiet murmurings of a lullaby soothing her off to sleep as if she were a newborn babe. However, her peaceful slumber was always short lived.
She would awaken to absolute silence. No pacing, no music, no sounds of Dominic’s tantrums ringing through the air. It was during those periods of stillness that she had the strongest urge to go to him. But she didn’t.
Kerrigan knew she would have to approach him eventually. There were still so many unanswered questions, and they only seemed to be growing in number. However, she reasoned that it would be best to wait until her mother and father were gone before interrogating him. Perhaps he would be more liberal with his answers if there weren’t so many strangers in the house. Parents could be intimidating, no matter what your age.
It had rained earlier in the day, easing the heaviness of the muggy air. So before bed, she opted to leave the door to her terrace open to let the light, albeit warm, wind filter into her room. A gentle ocean breeze flowed in through the opening, stirring the air and enveloping her with its clean, salty scent. She should have been content, but like most nights, sleep still evaded her.
Something was very different about the house. Something cold and foreboding.
Dominic’s light steps above and the soothing melody of his music had long since ceased, so she was sure he was fast asleep. In fact, the whole house was out. A couple of hours into her restlessness, Kerrigan heard light footsteps and the familiar creaking of the old wooden floor outside her door. It was as if someone was pacing back and forth there. Unwilling to get out of bed to check it out, she remained still and just listened.
When the sounds left the hallway and crept inside her room, Kerrigan sat straight up in bed, her eyes scanning the room to find the source. The temperature dropped noticeably, and she felt her skin pebble as an icy chill ghosted across her flesh. Her warm breath came out in thin, white puffs like she was still in Chicago, standing outside in the middle of winter. Seeking warmth, she crossed her arms over her chest and began to rub them with her hands.
The sound of footsteps drifted from her doorway, across the floor until it reached the corner of her bed where they stopped. Kerrigan sat still, staring in the direction of the last step she heard.
“Who’s there?” her shaky voice asked the empty room.
She could’ve sworn she heard a slight sigh in response, and her heart rate accelerated with fear. Her mind was playing tricks on her, convincing her that she was being watched by someone or something. There was enough moonlight streaming in from outside to adequately illuminate the room, so she could see that she was alone.
“Get a hold of yourself, Kerrigan, you’re freaking yourself out. There’s no one there.” She ran her hands over her face, half laughing at her overactive imagination.
Two more steps came closer to where she was. Her head shot in their direction. She watched in silent horror, her eyes trained to the spot beside her where the mattress depressed on its own as if someone had just taken a seat. That would have been enough to send any normal person screaming and bolting for the door, but Kerrigan was paralyzed with fear.
Another sigh sounded next to her ear, and she felt a cool stream of icy air across the sensitive skin of her neck. She wasn’t sure what was different about it, but she was no longer afraid. She closed her eyes, relishing the comfort of the unseen presence. A light touch caressed her cheek and then pushed an errant strand of hair that had escaped her messy bun back from her face.
“Grammy?” Her grandmother had taught her many things about the supernatural world during their time together, including her belief that ghosts were real. If that was true, the safety she was feeling then could only be made possible by her grandmother.
A sultry deep voice, which definitely did not belong to her grandmother, drifted across the shell of her ear. “Muy bonita…”
Kerrigan’s eyes shot open, and the touch was instantly gone. The room grew warm again. The moment was lost, like it had never even happened. She jumped from the bed and ran toward the door, chasing after whatever it was she had just encountered and frightened off. She threw the door open and stopped to listen for evidence as to which direction the presence went before tip-toeing down the hallway on bare feet. A light tapping on the wall just a few feet away caused her ears to perk up. She quickly looked in that direction, still not seeing anything. Curious, she continued down the darkened hall.
Curiosity killed the cat, Kerrigan, she thought to herself.
A lump formed in her throat when the light tapping led her all the way to the end of the corridor where she found herself standing in front of her grandmother’s bedroom door. Inhaling deeply through her nose and out through her mouth, Kerrigan summoned the courage she needed to face what she hadn’t had the strength to face up until that point.
Going into her grandmother’s room should have been an easy thing for her to do, but every time she considered it, her chest felt constricted and she began to tremble with apprehension. It was like she was afraid to see that her grandmother really wasn’t there anymore, and Kerrigan just didn’t know if she could handle the finality of it all. She had avoided it like the plague, begging her mother to take various boxes in there to store for her instead.
But someone, or something, had led her there for a reason. Believing nothing inside the house where she had always felt the safest would do her harm, Kerrigan pulled her shoulders back and swallowed her fears. She reached a timid hand toward the knob before pulling it back at the last minute, unable to follow through. Just when she started to turn with the intent of retreating to the safety of her own room, the knob turned, and the door inched opened on its own.
“Se valiente, guardián de mi alma,” a familiar voice whispered into her ear.
She recognized the Spanish cadence of the words, and although she had no idea what the words meant, she felt a renewed strength. The dream she had the night her grandmother passed away seemed to be replaying itself; a timid girl standing in front of the door, the voice of an alluring stranger giving her strength and encouraging her to go inside. It was familiar and comforting, and it gave her the confidence she needed to step through the threshold.
Once inside, Kerrigan heard the soft click of the door closing behind her, but she wasn’t scared. She stood frozen, immersed in the sights, sounds, and smells of her grandmother that permeated the bedroom. Her presence was evident in every nook a
nd cranny of that old house, but it was strongest there in the room that held the highest concentration of everything that was Grammy.
Kerrigan began to walk around the room, pausing to let her fingers drift over the quilt that lay folded at the foot of the bed, undisturbed. Then she went over to the vanity and sat down on the bench. Looking into the mirror, she remembered the scene from the dream once again. The way her grandmother looked at her through that very same looking glass, gazing at her granddaughter as if the sun rose and set in her eyes. Nostalgia set in, and she felt an urgent need for her grandmother’s company as she replayed cherished memories of her childhood.
She could hear her own ghostly child-like giggle that emanated from a younger version of herself. She and her grandmother had always held hands while spinning in a circle, humming This Little Light of Mine. She stood up and moved toward the center of the room, smiling as she replicated the memory and spun around with her hands outstretched toward a make-believe Grammy. She hummed along with the melody, feeling herself becoming giddier with each pass. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the window. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she stopped spinning, cautiously approaching it.
She could almost hear the mad flapping of the ravens’ wings when she recalled the way they swarmed the room in her dream. A chill of fear trembled down her spine. She pushed the remnants of the nightmare from her mind and brought her hand up to touch the cold glass. Her fingertips drifted down the pane until they came to rest on the latches. The shutters opened effortlessly, and she gazed down into the garden; the sole reason Grammy had chosen that room as her own.
The ample light provided by the moon allowed her to see her grandmother’s prized Corral Seas Passion Flower vines that thrived in the backyard. The flower wasn’t native to Florida, and in theory, shouldn’t have been able to grow there, but Availia had boasted that the Cruz land was special, magical even. She remembered that many of Availia’s neighbors had taken pieces of the vine in an attempt to cultivate the plant themselves, but none of them had been successful. Judging by the knowing smile Availia always gave them, Kerrigan knew that it was no surprise to her when their attempts failed. Kerrigan giggled a little to herself, realizing for the first time that her grandmother must have gotten a kick out of watching their futile attempts.
