Jack was a great cook, especially Italian food. He could cook Italian and swear Italian— and both were worth watching. It was the only time he was incredibly expressive. He used hand gestures and everything. He'd learned to cook from his mother, and in Val's more tender moments she thought he cooked so that he could remember her and what his life had been before the blood, death and vampires.
She took the salad bowl and set it on the table. The parmesan was still in the fridge, and she found the expensive block of cheese, as well as the expensive cheese grater that was all Jack's Italian roots would accept.
Jack took the lasagna out of the oven, a puff of hot air brushing by her.
They sat down at the old wooden table in the kitchen.
“So Val, you got in. Congratulations.” Her father said, his smile an afterthought.
Oh no. Was he going to keep her from going? A vision of her father telling her she could either help them or be on her own, rocketed through her mind. What would she do if he made her choose?
She’d say goodbye.
When Jack had left four months ago, her father had stayed with her. She knew that Jack had hoped they’d bond but boy had he been wrong. They'd been strangers in the same house, using the same rooms and space, eating together, but never saying anything worth saying. There was a reason she always called him ‘father’ or ‘Nate’. He didn’t deserve a ‘dad’. He didn’t do ‘dad’ things with her, he tried to kill her. So he could be Nate for all she cared.
She was going to have to be on the offensive. “Yes. It's exciting. It will also give you more time with Jack. You guys will have each other, be able to protect each other and not have to worry about me.” Yeah, that sounded natural.
Her father cocked his head to the side. “Why wouldn't we worry? Do you know how many vampires live in the Bay area? Lucas was there last month.”
Self- preservation told her to be cautious. “I've done everything to learn to protect myself. I'm going to college. The only question is whether or not I have your blessing.” That was the speech she'd worked on all day. She was pleased with herself for getting it all out, but it seemed a shame it had only been three sentences long.
His fingers drummed on the table. He stopped the nervous habit and took a bite of lasagna, chewing thoughtfully, undoubtedly trying to figure out his next attack to keep her here.
“No. I will hate you if you keep me here. I won't stay.”
He nodded. “Okay. Jack will go with you.”
Val looked at them both venomously. “No! He won't! I won't have a jailer anymore. You need him more than I do. Who will keep you safe? Things are worse, there are more attacks than ever. You need help. And I'm sorry, but you are not getting any younger. If something happens to you because he's with me....” Her voice trailed off and she felt her throat closing up with tears.
She looked at the picture of her mother on the wall. How she watched over all their meals with a benign smile. Her father got up and she hoped he was coming to hug her.
He walked past her and went upstairs, closing the door behind him. She wanted to cry. Throw something. Leave tonight and never look back.
Her gaze flew to Jack and she knew that he would hug her if she wanted. Of course he would. He was perfect and a mean part of her hated him for that. As though he could read her mind, he got up, leaving his food half-eaten at the table. She heard him going up the stairs, his long stride eating the distance quickly. He knocked and entered the study, closing the door quietly behind him.
Her father and Jack didn't need her. They kept her but it was a duty. No more. She couldn't be that anymore. Be a disappointment, a burden, an afterthought.
***********
Valerie finished packing for college. Her room was stuck in a time warp, perfect for a little girl who loved pink. Light pink painted walls and white wainscoating. It even had a huge wooden doll house in the corner where Barbie and Ken had gone all the way...repeatedly.
She'd packed everything, not wanting to leave anything behind. The pale pink bedspread from when she was a little girl and some of her stuffed animals, like the elephant her dad had won for her when they went to the state fair the year before her mom died.
That was a time before vampires existed for them. They were a normal family: dad had a normal job at a consultancy firm and ran the occasional 10k. Her mom was a second grade teacher and they'd had a dog named Pickles. He was white and fierce. One of those dogs that had short man's complex. He wanted to attack everything. Kill first, sniff later.
She'd loved that stupid dog.
Jack knocked on her door and interrupted her thoughts. Good, she knew what came next on her trip down memory lane. Seeing mom butchered in cold blood, her dead dog, then her father destroyed. She could skip that memory.
When she opened the door she smiled at him, happy for the interruption. He seemed a little surprised but smiled back.
“Hey, I was thinking we could order some pizza for your last night. Maybe watch a movie or play scrabble.”
Valerie raised her eyebrows at him, surprised at the offer. They hadn't spent an evening together in...yeah, it had been awhile.
“Last time we played Scrabble I won,” she teased him.
“Yeah, because I was 14. I could speak English really well but you were a real stickler for the spelling.” His tone was fond and she detected a hint of a challenge.
She thought about refusing. Wouldn't it be harder tomorrow if they buried the hatchet tonight? Could they even try to pretend that they weren't total opposites in absolutely everything now?
He crossed his arms in a defensive gesture and she realized that he knew she was thinking of saying no. He wanted her to say yes but he was waiting for her to shut him down. Val was always going to be weak willed around Jack, would probably always give in to spending a little bit more time with him if she could. What harm could it do to pretend to be friends, one last time, before their lives were forever altered?
After all, his life was changing too. He wouldn't have to watch over her anymore, or stay in San Loaran but could devote the rest of his life to revenge. Why wouldn't he be nervous too? Had either of them had a big life changing event that had turned out positive? His parents murdered, her mother.
Life as they knew it was at an end and looking at Jack with his soft smile made her feel an overwhelming sadness that their relationship had gone to hell, especially compared to when they were younger. Once she was gone she might not see him again for a while, maybe never if he was killed. He reached out to her and squeezed her arm.
She nodded, “Yeah. Okay. But no Scrabble. How about Monopoly?”
“What? That things like eight hours!” he said with mock indignation.
She started to laugh. “No, don't worry I'm a much better cheater now! I'll have you cleaned out in two hours tops.” Val snapped her fingers to demonstrate how quickly time would pass.
Jack turned and went down the stairs. “I'll order the pizza.”
She heard the television click on as she followed him down.
“It's the VH1 pop up show! And a marathon no less. We're kicking it old school tonight!” Her voice was gleefully. Jack paused mid-dial but didn't look up, while Val waited to see what he'd say about her lame comment. But he said nothing. Instead, he closed his eyes and shook his head a little, then called for pizza.
Their relationship had always been complicated. They were like two shipwreck survivors clinging to a raft and waiting to be rescued. But no one came to rescue them, and they'd grown up in a house with almost no affection or guidance, beyond how to kill a vampire. It was weird. Like Leave It to Beaver but Beaver was buried in a shallow grave out back.
So, yeah. Complicated.
But not tonight. Tonight would be one last night to have fun, and pretend that their relationship was simple.
They got the game set up and promptly had a fight over who got to be the car. She only wanted it because the car was his favorite and he made a ridiculous screeching tire soun
d as he moved away from her properties. Then he'd comment about the bad service and how he should get his money back.
She had no idea if it was actually funny, but it had been part of their bickering for so long that she thought it was hilarious.
The pizza came and they ate the whole thing. After the last bite, Val said, “Okay Jack. I want a favor.”
His hand froze above Park Place. “What is it?”
“It's a really big favor.”
Jack waited.
“I want to play the drinking game version of Monopoly. It's a weird night anyway. Can't we get drunk together once? You know, be young and stupid.” She tried to waggle her eyebrows, but feared she'd accomplished a sick-worm-dancing expression instead.
“I'm not that young, Val.” His superior tone got on her nerves and she made her hands into a mouthpiece shape and put them to her lips. “It's three years, Jack! You are only three years older than me!” He rubbed his hand across his eyes like he had a headache but she thought she saw a smile. She watch his hand, those long fingers and neat nails. He had a five o' clock shadow and he looked a little...rumpled? Perfect Jack being not so perfect was really sexy.
Don't. Think. That.
As he combed his fingers through his hair, Val waited, watching him think. “How about we do it on one condition?”
She was excited but then worried. Jack always got his pound of flesh. “What is it?”
Jack stood and went to the kitchen. Opening the cupboard, he pulled out a bottle of tequila and then grabbed something she couldn't see from a drawer, before coming back to the coffee table. In a smooth motion he was down on his knees, the bottle on the table and a... pager beside it.
“Go on.” Val chuckled uncomfortably.
Jack looked her in the eyes and her heart squeezed. “This is a pager. But it only does one thing. It goes to me. You have to promise me that you will carry it at all times and be prepared to use it if anything peculiar happens or you need help. I mean it, Val. I want us to test it every three months. A prearranged time where you push the button and we make sure it works. New batteries every three months as well.”
Okay, he was really serious, “Does it, by any chance, have a tracking device in it?”
A few moments passed where he wouldn’t look her in the face. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah, it does.”
She squeezed his hand and then pulled away. “You are a shitty negotiator. I totally accept. I would have taken it anyway, if you asked me. I'm not that heartless. I know you need to keep track of me. I get it and I love you for it.”
“Who are you?” He peered at her face. “You look like Val and speak like Val, what with all the swearing, but you are so reasonable.”
“Get the damned glasses.”
In no time they were back, settled down on the floor, backs against the couch, facing the T.V., a coffee table loaded with booze and Parker Brother's paraphernalia in front of them.
Jack settled down on the floor next to her, his body turned towards hers, their knees touching. His face was close enough that she could see the amber colored flecks in his gray eyes. The room was suddenly tense, the commercials intrusive to their little world before the couch. Now or never, Val thought and picked up the salt shaker.
“Give me your hand,” she said and felt a flutter in her stomach. Val stared at his dark jeans, his knee suddenly fascinating as she waited for him to do something. Either he’d agree and give her his hand, or he’d refuse. But she felt stupidly exposed now, like she’d stepped over a line or given her true feelings away. He had no expression. Perfect control. Who knew what the hell he was thinking? And why did she think that was so hot?
This was a lot like bungee jumping, she decided. She could dick around at the top of the bridge, looking at the view and crapping herself with fear, or she could just jump and feel the rush. That was how she was going to live her life, she decided. Jump first and damn the consequences.
Jack extended his hand towards her, palm up. His body had shifted, both knees flush against hers so that all she had to do was lean forward— five, maybe six inches and she could touch her lips to his. Err, not that that was the plan....
Val wrapped her hand around his wrist, tugging it towards her mouth lightly. He was relaxed, his fingers loose but lightly curled as he waited for her to do something.
Her gaze flashed to his and she smiled.
There was nowhere else in the world she'd rather be right now, and she knew, staring into his eyes, that she'd remember this moment for the rest of her life: the warmth of his hand, the expression on his face.
Leaning forward, she touched her tongue to the back of his wrist. Jack jerked a little but tried to keep his hand still while she licked him.
His knuckles whitened on the shot glass in his other hand.
She pulled back, her tongue tingling from the touch of his skin. Val felt herself blushing and quickly poured salt on his damp hand. She went to lick her own hand, moving quickly, trying to get beyond her own embarrassment, but he made a noise and she stilled.
“Turn about’s fair play,” Jack said, his voice slightly husky.
Val thought his comment should have been corny but it wasn't. He was so sexy he could get away with almost anything.
Jack took her hand in his and she noticed how warm and large his hand was compared to hers. He pulled her hand towards his mouth and caught her gaze, refusing to look away.
Gulp.
She watched her hand go towards his mouth, felt his tongue on her skin.
His touch was gentle. Jack was coiled and lethal, focused and practical. This wasn't practical, it was very, very sexual and Val felt like she'd been waiting her whole life for Jack to look at her like she was edible. He tapped the salt shaker, coating the damp mark on her skin.
“Bottom's up,” he said, almost in a heavy sigh.
Val couldn't help it, “These double entendres are coming hard and fast, you know.”
The shot was to his mouth, the liquid on his tongue and she knew he just about spit it out because he was laughing so hard. He got it down but not without a struggle. His eyes were red and he shook himself exaggeratedly, as though the tequila was vile.
Which it was.
He put the glass down with a cough. “There is no one like you Val.”
“Do you want to drink to that?” Her eyes were still watering from the fiery taste, but she waved her little glass at him in challenge.
He shook his head in an emphatic no and turned a bit somber. They went back to playing the game and enough time passed that they each had seven or eight hotels. Every time someone landed on a hotel they had to drink, and it wasn’t long before they were both tipsy.
The game had gone on for over two hours when Cyndi Lauper’s, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” came on Pop up Video.
Jack was almost out of money and heavily mortgaged. She was happy and relaxed; alcohol, Jack and victory all contributing to her good mood.
“Did you see my talent show video from sixth grade where we 'performed'” She used air quotes so that he knew she was using the term loosely, “this song?”
“I haven't had enough alcohol for that. I'm gonna need another shot.”
Without hesitation, she poured him another one and he drank it. It was a strict no contact shot, understood without words. After the third one she thought she moaned a little when he licked her, and they hadn't done it since.
Love is Darkness (A Valerie Dearborn Novel) Page 6
