I peek at mine. Queen of spades. On top I have an ace of clubs. My face brightens into a smile before I can stop it. “What makes you think I’m not sleeping?”
The coffee maker starts to steam, and he gives it a pointed glance.
“Oh that? I always wake up in the middle of the night to drink a pot of coffee. It helps me sleep.” I meet his gaze and smile. “It’s why I look so great all the time.”
Laughter escapes his lips. “I was wondering what your secret was.” He flips his cards over. Ten of diamonds to go with his nine of hearts. “Hold.”
I flip my queen over. “I win.”
“Damn, I should have dealt that to myself.” He scoops up the cards and deals out some more.
“Where did you move here from?” I ask to pass the time.
“Oh, I’m from here,” he says. “Born and raised. I love it, but I decided I wanted to stretch out some a little while ago. So I traveled around for a bit. Then I came back and lived in Charlotte for a few years. Spent a few more years after that doing some work in Cherokee. Then I moved back here, because you know, there’s no place like home.” He peeks at his cards and his grins falls. “Aw, man.”
I look at mine. Queen of diamonds this time, with an ace of spades on top. That’s curious.
“I didn’t know you lived here before,” I say. “When was that?”
“Just a while ago.”
I could have sworn he was from Europe somewhere. Not that he has a discernible accent of any kind, but he doesn’t sound like he’s from around here. Even Renali has more of a Southern accent, though most of that is just what’s rubbed off on her over the years. I also think half of it is canned.
“How old are you?” I thought he was around my age, maybe twenty-four or five, but it sounds like he might be closer to thirty or even older.
“Twenty-six.”
I look over his face. For some reason I feel like he pulled that number out of the air, but men in their twenties are not known for lying about their age.
He flips the five of clubs out of from under his two of diamonds and glances across the island at my ace. “Is there even any point in me dealing myself some cards?”
I flip my queen over. “Not really.”
“That’s just great.”
The coffee maker beeps, and I move over to survey the three sips it made. Damn it. I pull the pot out and turn to look at Emmerick. “Well, enjoy your cold lasagna.” I try to leave, but he steps in my path.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
With the smooth grace of a magician, he takes the coffee pot from me and dumps the contents in the sink.
I grab for the handle, but it’s too late. My three sips are gone. I slap his bicep, eliciting a cry of protest from his lips.
He looks down at his arm as if expecting to see an angry bruise marring his skin already, but his eyes crackle with suppressed laughter.
“That isn’t funny.” I resist the urge to break down in tears. I just need to make it through one more night. Why is everything against me?
He gazes down at me and nods up at the ceiling. “Go to bed, Tatum.”
“I can’t.” Though I’m not about to try and explain why.
“Really?” His voice is kind and soft. “Get some rest. I’ll come up with you. I don’t need much sleep. I’ll protect you from the boogeyman.”
I hesitate, waiting for him to laugh at me, but he simply smiles and waits for me to concede. “You’re serious?”
He reaches behind him for the lasagna and takes a bite. “I really just want to watch you sleep,” he says with a completely straight face.
Incredulous laughter escapes from my throat. “You are so…”
“Adorable?”
“Not at all.”
“Well, let’s go,” he says, “Before you pass out and I have to carry you.”
I wait for another second, but I have to admit the offer is tempting. A strong enough coffee doesn’t exist to keep me up another night, especially when I can’t get my hands on it.
“Fine,” I say, surprising myself. “Don’t touch me.”
He grins. “I won’t tell you if I do.”
He follows me up to my room, lasagna in hand, and settles into the chair by the window. I crawl on top of my bed and lean back against the headboard, my muscles aching from want of sleep.
“So you lived here before?”
His eyes rake over the items on the windowsill. “Yeah,” he says, distracted. “I lived on the other side of town, near the Sunset Bakery, just outside of the woods.”
My heart jumps in my chest. My family’s bungalow was in those woods. “How long ago?”
He meets my eyes in the dark, his own cast in shade. “Few years or so.” He points to the items on the sill. “What is all this stuff? It looks like voodoo.”
I smile. “It is.”
He smiles back. “Do you want me to tell you a story?”
“About the boogeyman?” My eyes beg me to close them, to give in to sleep. They drift shut without permission. Panic seizes me at once, but strangely, I saw nothing but darkness before me. So I close my eyes again. More nothing.
“No monsters,” he says, his voice soft and soothing. “I’m sure you’ve heard the story of Goldilocks and the bears?”
“Hmm…”
“Once upon a time,” he says, his voice starting to sound far away. “There was a nosy little girl with a head full of bright, golden locks…”
Chapter Seven
Sunlight wakes me. I’m alone in my room, snuggled down on my pillows with my quilt pulled up to my chin. What time is it?
With a surprising amount of ease, I push myself up and blink around the room. Now this is strange—not feeling like crap when I wake up.
I twist to look at my clock. Eight? When is the last time I was even up this early after a regular night?
My eyes find the bottles and stones still sitting on the sill. For a brief moment, panic races across my chest. But then I remember even if Tessandra did come in here, which she wouldn’t this early, she already knows I’m back hocking shit in the underground.
I rub the last remnants of sleep from my eyes and get up to scoop the wares into my bag. I pause by the chair next to the window. How long was he here?
For the three years that I’ve been out of the facility, I haven’t slept through the night, on the night, in my life. Not with Tessandra in the room. Not with Kalin or Gretchen in the room. Not with the cat in the room.
I touch the back of the chair where a single piece of dark blond hair had fallen. Why did him being in here with me make a difference?
I barely know him. It makes no sense that I would be more comfortable around him than everyone else. I shake the questions from my head. There’s no point in worrying over things I don’t have an answer to, but it does make me curious. I need to get to know him better. My instinct is to poke around in his head uninvited, but it’s not that easy. I have to be in the room with him, and I have to concentrate.
He’s been asking for a session for a couple of weeks. I wonder how serious he is about it.
For once, I don’t have to rush, so I take the time to wash my hair since I don’t remember the last time I did. I pick out my own clothes, not that I have a ton of different options, but it’s a nice change.
Then I head down to the kitchen to find some food.
When I walk in, Tessandra, who’s at the sink washing dishes, startles so bad when she sees me that she splashes water on the counter top and floor as a hand flutters up to her heart.
“Tatum!”
“Sorry.”
Tessandra laughs. “Wow…not that I’m not happy to see you up this early, but what gives?”
“I don’t know. I slept surprisingly well.” Best night of sleep I can remember. I open the cabinet doors that house the coffee out of habit and find the three canisters back on the shelf.
Tessandra goes back to washing the dishes, humming and smiling to herself. “I talked to R
enali this morning. She says you’re coming in for a rescheduled session today?” Her tone is pleased.
I try not to feel good about her being proud of me. “Well, you know,” I say. “I told you we had to reschedule.”
“I know,” she says. “Just glad you were telling the truth.”
For once. I know she wants to add that last bit, but she doesn’t.
“Listen…” I shut the coffee away because I don’t need it. “About the underground?”
Her back stiffens, but she continues scrubbing and rinsing.
“I’m sorry for…um. I’m going to unload what I have and then I’ll stop—”
“Do you want to stop going, Tatum?” She rinses off the last plate and then reaches for a towel to dry her hands on.
“I don’t know.”
She turns to me, her gaze hard and penetrating. “I want you to stop going because you want to stop going. Not because I make you. So I’m not going to stop you. I’ve done everything I can.” She steps closer to me. “I realized after talking with Renali this morning that I haven’t been giving you enough space and freedom to make your own decisions. I do want you to be careful, very careful, but if you want to go down there occasionally and help someone out…” She turns her eyes to the arched opening of the kitchen where Gretchen is standing silently, dressed for work.
Tessandra clears her throat and turns back to face me. “I just want you to pay attention. All I’ve ever wanted for you is for you to be safe. You do know that right?”
I nod automatically.
“But I’ve come to understand that by treating you like a child, I am opening our relationship up to dishonesty. You are capable of making your own decisions, and I have to let you do that.”
I wait for her to say more. She presses her lips together and motions for her daughter to go wait in the car. Gretchen’s wide eyes find my face before she hurries out.
“Prove to me over these next couple of weeks that you have more sense than your mother, that I can trust you not to get yourself killed, and I will file the paperwork by the end of the year.”
I let out a breath of surprise. “You’re serious?” My eyes sting with tears, but I blink them back.
Her lips twist up in doubt, but she nods and moves to leave the kitchen, pausing at the end of the island to add one more thing. “I am sorry for smothering you, Tatum. It’s only because I care about you.”
“I know you do.”
“You’re very resourceful, and I’ve never appreciated that.” She nods, more to herself than to me, and vanishes around the corner.
I dab the stray wetness from the corners of my eyes and shake my head in disbelief. Renali must really want me to cooperate today. I open the refrigerator and find a container with my name on it. It would seem Tessandra made quiche this morning and left me some for breakfast.
Now that freedom is within reach, I’m almost tempted not to take it. But it’s not like I’ll have to move out—I’ll just have the option. Along with my own bank accounts with just my name on them. And I won’t have her asking me where I’m going all the time. I won’t have her checking up on me at work.
My chest swells with the hope of having my own life. She didn’t have to tell me this. It might be some kind of test to see how I handle this extra foot of freedom she’s given me. Well. I’ll handle it well. She’ll see. And I know she will because she’ll likely be watching me more closely than ever. She just won’t say anything about it.
I warm up my quiche and sit down at the island to eat, smiling from ear to ear as the possibilities roll around in my head.
“I’ve never seen you in here this early,” Emmerick says, strolling into the kitchen. Beads of sweat already cling to his neck and back. He sticks his head in the refrigerator and takes out the rest of the quiche. “How did you sleep?” He grabs a fork and starts eating it cold.
“Fine.”
“Fine,” he repeats, smiling to himself like my answer is amusing. “It was so peaceful in your room. I love that view of the mountain outside your window.”
“How long were you in there?” A thread of self-consciousness eases its way up my spine.
“I left at sun-up. Nothing showed up to grab you in the night. Not even me.” He grins over the pie pan.
“You were up all night, and you’ve been out working already?” This guy is so strange.
“I didn’t say I was up all night. I ran into you at what? Three in the morning? I woke up around then. Started work at sunrise. Patching a hole in the roof. Gotta earn my keep, you know?”
I nod absentmindedly, trying to remember if it really was three in the morning. Not that it matters.
“You always get up super early?” I ask.
“Usually.” He finishes off the quiche and dumps the pie tin in the metal trash can by the fridge. “Give you a lift to work? I have some rodents to dig out from under the building before they start to smell.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Lovely.” I finish my food and set the plastic container in the sink. I take a step away from it. Then I turn back and scrub it clean. One less thing for Tessandra to hold over my head later. I would attempt to cook something for myself once and a while, but why rob my aunt of the pleasure? I’ll figure out how to not burn stuff when I live by myself.
I leave the container in the rack to dry and follow Emmerick outside. His old, old, truck sits partially parked in the grass, the deep blue paint faded and peeling and rusting along the bottom. I stop in the driveway. “When did you get a car?”
He pauses halfway across the lawn, nearly missing the keys he’s been tossing up in the air. “Hmm? I’ve had that for years.”
“Here?”
He laughs. “Yeah. How do you think I’ve been getting around?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just never noticed it before.” If it wouldn’t look so psychotic for me to smack myself I would. Of course he has a car. It’s probably just been parked in the back. I shake my head and continue after him. I must still be paranoid from dealing with Shepard Ross in the black market yesterday. Not to mention my run-in with the widow. And what I saw in her head.
“Whatcha thinking?” He opens the passenger door for me.
“I’m thinking I might just give you a free reading after all,” I say lightly, stuffing my fears back into the recesses of my brain where they belong. I climb into the cab and hold the hem of my skirt out of the way as he shuts the door.
“Yeah?” He climbs in beside me. “When are you free?”
“When are you free?”
“I’m flexible.”
I glance at him out of the corner of my eyes. Would he notice if I tried to poke around a little bit now? “I’ll let you know.”
The truck shakes to life and rumbles unsteadily down the street.
Before I can stop myself, I ask, “You said you used to live close to the Sunset Bakery?”
“Yep. Right across the street.”
“My family lived in a bungalow in those woods.”
“Oh yeah? How long ago?”
I swallow down the sudden lump in my throat before answering. “Eight years ago.”
“Hmm. Sounds like we were right next to each other and didn’t even know it.” He looks over at me and grins. “Isn’t that something?”
“Yeah…small world.” I narrow my eyes and turn to look out the window. It’s not that small. People live nearby all the time and never see each other. I guess it’s not so odd that we never crossed paths. He is five years older than me. Neither one of us would have paid any attention to the other back then, even if we had seen each other. But still…something about the whole thing is just nagging me.
I try to remember the row of houses across the street from the bakery. I used to play on the playground over there with my sister.
But the memories go no further than that before they push back against me. Hard. I didn’t like that park. The shadows—
“We should have lunch together sometime,” Emmerick says, his unassu
ming voice shattering my thoughts.
“Yeah…we should.”
“When you’re not busy. When are you not busy?”
“I go out for lunch.” To the underground. Like an idiot, apparently.
Don’t make the same mistakes my sister made.
What if it’s too late? Half the people down there already know what I do. Though I don’t see how what I do would get me the kind of attention that would get me killed…
Cold discomfort rolls over my shoulders. I’m letting Tessandra get under my skin. Everything is fine. If nothing has happened in three years, why would anything all of sudden happen now? Nothing’s changed. I haven’t changed.
“Cold?” Emmerick reaches out to turn the air down.
“No, I’m fine. We’re here anyway.”
He pulls around to the back and parks sideways along the building. I try to open my door; it won’t budge.
“Oh, I’ll get it,” he says, hurrying out and around the truck. “The door sticks sometimes.” He yanks it open with an apologetic grin.
I return his smile. “It has character. It’s great.” I drag my bag out of the truck and head around to the front. “Have fun with the rodents,” I call to him as he kneels down next to the crawl space and gets to work removing the iron grate.
“I always do.” He gives me a wave, and I wave back before leaving him behind.
My skin goes cold as I approach the store front. I know I promised Tessandra and Renali that I would have a session today, but I’m really starting to regret it.
The air is warm again today, but now that the air conditioning is working, it’s rather cool inside the store. I should have brought a sweater; I’m going to be cold all day.
Tessandra looks up from behind the counter and nods her approval at my early arrival.
The waiting room is already full of chipper folks. Kalin peeks out through her curtain and dips her head to an old lady in the corner. She rolls her eyes and mouths “crazy” before slipping back into her hole.
While it is significantly cooler back here today, it isn’t that cold. This woman, who’s probably knocking on death’s door at ninety-nine and a half, is wrapped up in a fuzzy pink blanket.
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