Lightning Strikes (The Almeida Brothers Trilogy #3)

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Lightning Strikes (The Almeida Brothers Trilogy #3) Page 5

by Trevion Burns


  He lifted an eyebrow. “Absolutely not.”

  “I’ve already promised you that I won’t violate you in your sleep, Aries.”

  “But you have no guarantee that I won’t violate you.”

  “I trust you.”

  “Never trust a lawyer. Especially not one as great as me.”

  “But you’re not arrogant, right?” She chortled. “Get in the bed.”

  “No thank you.”

  “Well, at least…” She leaned forward and began to tug the bedding from where it had been tightly tucked into the corners. “At least take the comforter.”

  “That’s not necessary…” Jack held a hand out just as she climbed out of the bed, dragging the dislodged comforter with her as she crossed the room to the closet.

  “Hotels usually keep spare pillows in the closet somewhere—” She hoped the back of her plush brown thighs were glistening even under the feeble yellow lighting as she bent deep into the closet. She hoped he was looking.

  She stood tall and turned to him just in time to see him avert his eyes. Beaming, she held up the pillow she clutched it her hand. “Got one,” she said, crossing the room to him and offering him the pillow and blanket, still grinning like a proud puppy.

  Jack took the pillow and blanket, looking up at her. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “If you won’t take the bed, at least now you can sleep on the floor. There’s no way you can remain vertical for another second after the day we’ve had. Besides, I sweat like a dog when I sleep. This blanket would’ve ended up on the floor anyway.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Thanks.”

  “You said ‘thanks?’ ” She turned away from him with a smile of disbelief, and it was still bright on her face as she moved to the bed and climbed back under the sheets. “And is that a smile I see? I had no idea your face knew how to do that.”

  Against his will, the second corner of his mouth joined the first, lifting as he stood from his chair and dropped the pillow and blanket at the foot of her bed.

  She watched him bend over at the hip, constructing his makeshift cot, nearly breaking her neck to watch as he plopped down on it once he deemed it acceptable.

  Falling back onto the pillows of the bed, she listened to him shuffle around for several minutes, and only when the silence nearly claimed her and put her to sleep did she whisper. “Jack?”

  ***

  Jack considered ignoring her. Pretending to breathe a little deeper so she’d assume he was asleep. He needed rest, an anomaly that had eluded him all day.

  Her soft, whispered voice hit the air again. “Jack?”

  “Hm?” He moaned, shifting on his man-made cot, eyes still closed tight.

  “I snore okay?”

  He grunted.

  “So don’t hold it against me or anything.”

  “I won’t.” He cleared his throat and shifted. Silence fell in. His breathing deepened. Blessed sleep began to claim his bones, welcoming him into the beautiful abyss of unconsciousness.

  “Jack?”

  His next moan came from a deeper place. “Hm?”

  “I feel like those ants are crawling on me. I know they aren’t, but I feel like they are. I feel like they’re on me.”

  “I do too,” he grumbled. “It’s all in your head. They’re married to whatever that red stain is on the other bed. They won’t bother us. Close your eyes. Go to sleep.”

  “Hey, Jack?”

  “Yes?” he hissed through gritted teeth.

  “Do you snore?”

  “No.”

  She laughed. “I feel bad now.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Okay, I won’t.” She breathed deep. “ ‘Night.”

  Silence. Calm. Delicious sleep curling into his skin.

  “Jack?”

  His eyes popped open. “What?”

  “I just wanted to say… whoever she was…” Another silence. “She’s an idiot.”

  This time, when the silence swept in, Jack didn’t welcome it. He couldn’t. Not when his heart rate had picked up exponentially. Not when the meaning of her words only made it pump faster. Not when his eyes burned at the sound of them, reminding him of exactly what he was running from, and even more so, what he was running to.

  He could’ve wallowed in his self-imposed pity party for at least a few moments longer if the tickle he felt on his ankle had subsided. He’d convinced himself that tickle was a figment of his imagination. His mind putting an ant on his body that wasn’t really there, just because he knew there were millions infesting the mattress a few feet away.

  He tried to sleep through that tickle, but couldn’t. It grew more persistent and then started moving up his leg. He lifted his head, squinting in the darkness. Maybe there really was an ant on him.

  A scream caught in his throat when he found a pair of bright red eyes gazing back at him. They glowed from the eye sockets of the biggest white rat he’d ever seen, whiskers stroking his leg.

  “Fuck!” He was off the floor and on the bed in seconds, hardly able to process Nina’s shocked yelp when he landed right on top of her legs. His gaze was riveted to the white rat as it scurried across the room, frightened away by his scream. It moved at the speed of light, disappearing under the floor AC unit.

  “What happened?” Nina beamed, clutching his arm and following his wide eyes to the air conditioner in the corner of the room. When she didn’t see anything, she looked back and shook him.

  He pointed at the unit with a trembling finger, kicking all the way to the head of the bed until his back hit the wall. “A rat, a rat, a goddamn…” He jammed his finger in the direction of the unit, watching as Nina’s gaze flew back and forth between him and the unit. “It was on me; it was… it was goddamn on me.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t all in your head?” Nina placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “His whiskers were…” Jack visibly shivered. “They were on me.”

  “Rats are totally harmless, you know. In fact, they’re one of the top ten smartest animals on the planet.”

  “That little factoid might comfort you Fordam-breds and help you sleep at night, but it’s not doing a damn thing for me. A rat is a rat is a rat.”

  “Okay, I realize you’re a little bit traumatized now, on a drama level 10 that I will probably never see you on again. So I’m going to let that asshole comment you just made, slide. Just this once.”

  Jack brought his knees up to his chest, rocking himself, eyes riveted to the unit.

  “So I guess this means you’re sleeping in the bed now.”

  “You’re goddamn right I’m sleeping in the bed.” His wide eyes flew to hers.

  She bit back a laugh. “You should have just taken me up on my offer all along. Then you would’ve never known that poor rat you just scared to death was even in the room.”

  Jack kicked his legs under the sheets and lay down, covering his forehead with his hand. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep in here. I really don’t.”

  She giggled, lying down next to him and staring up at the ceiling. A moment later, she turned her head. “I guess sewer rats aren’t exclusive to the Bronx anymore, huh?” Taking in his wide, frantic eyes, the clench of his fists and his knees wobbling under the sheets, her laughter picked up. “Remind me to never come looking for you during a real rat emergency.”

  “I hate those disgusting, disease ridden things.”

  “Are you sure you’re a New Yorker?”

  He swallowed. “My younger brother was always the one to handle the poison, and the peppermint, and the sticky traps. I can still remember the rats screaming when they’d get caught in the middle of the night. The sound would travel through the halls. Unbearable. My parents and I couldn’t stand the thought of being within a few feet of them.”

  “Your brother?” She sat up on one elbow. “Your parents?”

  Jack’s eyes flew to hers, and if it were possible, they got even wider.

  Hers widened, a
s well. “Ooops,” she said. “I think you nearly just made a connection with me, Aries.”

  With a roll of his eyes, Jack turned his back to her, jamming this head into the pillow. “Good night.”

  “I’m breaking you down.”

  “Good night.”

  “And it’s not even the end of day one.” She laughed. “You’re gonna love me. ” She did her best Jennifer Hudson voice. “You, and you, and you, you’re gonna lov—”

  “If you finish that, I swear to god I’m leaving.”

  “That rat is waiting under the box-spring to chew off your toes if you try.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “Your phone is still alive. Maybe if you call your, apparently much braver, baby brother, he can fly himself out here and take care of the rat for us.”

  “Please stop talking.”

  The bed shifted as she lay down, too, and the laughter was still in her voice when she whispered, “Goodnight, Aries.”

  4

  Jack started awake, breathing in so deeply he inhaled a nostril full of curls he hadn’t realized his head had been cradled into. Foggy delirium wafted from his psyche. The sun blaring into the window was topped in power only by the ringing phone. His eyes fluttered open, and before he could bring himself to answer the phone, he realized he couldn’t move. Both of his arms were wrapped around Nina, who, from the uninterrupted serenity of her slumber, apparently slept like a rock. He gasped as his senses kicked in. The smell of her shampoo, from where his nose was still tucked into her hair, the gentle curve of her ass as it pushed into his tented boxers, and the silky smoothness of her legs entwined with his.

  He jolted away from her in shock, kicking himself to the opposite side of the bed while covering his erection with a frown. He’d known sharing a bed with her was a mistake. When the urge to curl back close and re-entwine their bodies became too much to bear, he left the bed. She’d offered him an innocent place to lie, and he couldn’t let her wake up with his dick against her ass.

  Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, he snatched up the ringing phone. The cheery voice made his frown deepen.

  “Good morning from Monroeville Inn, this is your 4 am wake up call—”

  He slammed the phone down, still struggling to realize full consciousness. Peeking over his shoulder, he was amazed to see Nina still slept like a stone. Convinced this was the most silence he would ever be blessed with from that woman, he didn’t dare wake her up.

  The train station would be open in two hours.

  His eyes went to the open closet where he’d hung their clothes to dry. After throwing a disdainful look at the ants still going wild on the opposite bed, he hurried over to the closet.

  Stealing another look at Nina over his shoulder, he took his white button down and his slacks off their hangers, leaving everything else.

  He didn’t need the memories.

  Refusing to risk waking her up, he crept to the door in his boxers, swiping up his dress shoes on the way before inching it open with a tender hand, stepping out as quietly as he could.

  He took one last look at the delicate curves of Nina’s sleeping body, her glowing brown skin, and that amazing ass before he eased the door shut.

  ***

  The scene at the Amtrak station was no different than the airport. Jack wasn’t the only person who’d taken the airline up on their offer. Hundreds of stranded passengers clutched vouchers that sunny morning, clamoring for their free seat on the train of their choosing. Domed windows lined the walls, and reminded Jack of a church, but there was nothing heavenly about the profanities flying left and right as people struggled to get home.

  Every few minutes, an automated voice over the loudspeaker announced another train that was either delayed or canceled. Madness ensued each time until the place was essentially a zoo. Fights broke out as people tried to skip the long lines, forcing Chicago P.D. to get involved, intervening with annoyance in their eyes. Even the homeless, scattered all over the station, were too frightened to solicit anyone, looking on with quiet, concerned eyes. They were right to be concerned, Jack thought. After what these people had been through, a homicide was clearly on the horizon.

  Jack tried to stay centered as he waited in the second longest line of his life. He could only pray there was a single seat left once he reached the expansive podium lined with bulletproof glass. According to the news, Hurricane Nina was still busy laying down the law back home. New York City was falling apart, and it was slowly taking the rest of the country with it.

  Relieved when he finally made it to a teller, Jack spoke into the intercom that was bolted to the glass. “Good morning, I’d like a train ticket to anywhere that isn’t here, please. This is my voucher.” Jack pushed his voucher through the small window at the bottom of the glass and held a hand up when the teller went to speak. “And please allow me to preface… if you give me bad news of any sort, I’m very likely to spontaneously combust.”

  At those words, the middle-aged Amtrak teller, with a sizable bald spot running straight down the middle of his graying head, pressed his lips together and began tapping away on his computer.

  Jack watched him do this with wide eyes, only nodding his head when the silence went on for longer than a minute. “Good…” he said, pleased with the silence.

  When the teller spoke, his high voice boomed through the speaker louder than Jack had anticipated, making him rear back. “Sir, it looks like the only train that isn’t booked solid is the train to Utah.”

  “I will accept that train ticket, thank you.”

  “But your voucher is from the flight that crashed yesterday. So your real destination is New York City, correct?”

  “Incorrect. My real destination is anywhere but here.”

  Sensing his tone, the teller tapped away with a shake of his head. “Seems counterproductive to move backward is all…”

  “Manhattan is still underwater, so moving backward is my only option right now.” Jack clenched his teeth. Why was he explaining himself?

  The teller sighed, still not done expressing his displeasure with Jack’s life choices. “Printers are moving kind of slow this morning. One more minute and it should print.”

  Jack tapped his fingers on the counter as he tried to wait patiently for that minute to pass. Just as his ticket began to print, disaster struck.

  “I changed my mind.”

  At the sound of her voice ringing in next to him, Jack pressed his lips together and begged for peace. Without moving his body away from the teller window, he turned his head and met her eyes.

  He breathed in deeply.

  Her curls were even bigger first thing in the morning. Now fully dry, they sprang up from her head and toward the sky like a billowy crown before leading a million spirally paths down to her defined collarbones.

  Nina held up the iPhone he’d left behind in the hotel room, the iPhone he’d hoped to never see again while taking a huge chunk of her curls and pushing them to the other side of her head.

  Jack watched them move with the ease of bone straight hair, but with a unique life that was simply hers, so unapologetic in its spirally singularity it left him transfixed.

  “I changed my mind,” she said, again, waiting for his eyes to meet hers once more. “Unlock the phone.”

  Leaning against the counter on both elbows, Jack pressed his forehead into the glass for a long moment before turning his head and meeting her eyes, again. “For what?”

  “I need to make a call.”

  “To whom? New York City is an aquatic wasteland. You will not get an answer.”

  “An aquatic wasteland?” She smirked. “You unimaginable lawyer. You really can’t help yourself, can you?” When he didn’t respond, her smile fell, and she shifted, throwing her leg out while jutting out her hip. “Look. The man I need to speak to is so cold blooded; I have no doubt he has gills and can breathe underwater. He’ll pick up.”

  Jack’s eyes narrowed.

  “I won’t go
through your three hundred missed calls if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said. “And, yes, your missed calls have skyrocketed to three hundred overnight, just in case you were curious.”

  “I wasn’t.” He took the phone and unlocked it before handing it back to her. “The code is 7171. Keep the phone. Goodbye.”

  “I can’t believe you snuck out of the room without at least waking me up. I wanted to buy you breakfast.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re already bordering on too skinny for a man of your height. I have no doubt you would have demolished the massive stack of pancakes I had sent to the room when I woke up and look… we both ended up in the same place anyway. One of us just has a much fuller belly than the other.”

  When Jack’s stomach growled at the mental picture of pancakes, he grew irritated. “Don’t you have a phone call to make?”

  Backing away from him, she held up the phone, waving it. “7171?”

  Jack nodded. “Yep.”

  “Well…” Eyes falling, she pressed two fingers to her forehead and saluted him. “Bon voyage, Aries.”

  Jack watched her back away. The wind from the sliding doors at the entryway crossed the room and pushed her hair into the air. He watched it float as she turned and walked away.

  “Bon voyage.” He smirked. “Hurricane Nina.”

  ***

  Outside, the wind continued assaulting Nina’s hair. She could see the curious, borderline rude, stares from the people around her. Those curious gazes always overstayed their welcome, watching her curls as they moved through the air. Having grown up with big hair, she was used to it, but still, somewhere in the back of her mind, it bewildered her. Was the way her hair grew out of her scalp, naturally, really so fascinating?

  She kicked her black boots against the gravel of the station’s large parking lot. The rising sun cast a soft glare on the iPhone screen as she scrolled through all of Jack’s missed calls. She’d promised him she wouldn’t go through his phone, but she just couldn’t help looking at his missed calls. She had to know if it was one person who’d called him three hundred times, or several people.

 

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