After a few moments, Logan set the sofa down. He was beaming at her, elated at her response.
“Yeah? You like it?” He crossed the room and picked up an overstuffed lounge chair, hefting it over his head and balancing it in one hand.
She smiled appreciatively, and he set the chair down before grabbing the large, walnut coffee table and doing the same. For the next few minutes, he strode around, picking up pieces of furniture and trying to impress her.
“Okay, okay, I get the picture,” Violet said with a grin. “Yes, it’s very impressive. Now come sit by me.” She patted the seat next to her. “I’m sure that’ll come in handy at some point. So you’ve always had this…um, skill?”
He shook his head. “Just since I grew my hair out.”
“Really….” She turned to him. Her fingers explored the dark waves of his hair. It wasn’t like Ras’s, but apparently, it came with its perks. “Interesting. So what happens if you cut it?”
“I lose my strength.”
“So you go back to normal?”
He nodded.
“Fascinating.”
What an asset Logan was turning out to be. Violet would never have imagined all this lay behind his quiet, understated professor facade.
Graham drove Chloe to the ER, filled out her paperwork, and stayed with her once she was admitted. A nurse gave her a shot to numb the area, then sewed up her bleeding palm. Eight stitches later, they discharged Chloe from the ER. Once they were heading back, Graham shook his head and stared at Chloe’s arm that rested over the console. The bandage covered a big portion of her palm. “I didn’t want to ask earlier, but how were you so serene when your hand was bleeding everywhere? It was like you couldn’t even feel it. All that—before getting the shot.”
Chloe bit her lip, and her focus stayed on the window.
He frowned. “What?”
“I might as well just tell you,” she muttered.
“Tell me what?”
Chloe sighed and turned to him. “I can’t feel pain.”
“Really? You have some problem with your nerve receptors?”
She shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know what the medical diagnosis is. I haven’t gotten it checked out. But I have normal feeling—just not pain.”
“Really? Why haven’t you gotten it checked out?”
“Because it’s generally a good thing. And my family has a history of this.”
He frowned.
“Remember what I said about glitches?”
“This is yours?”
She nodded.
“So the numbing shot that nurse gave you—”
“Didn’t do anything.”
“Then why….”
“It’s easier to just go with it. This way I avoid awkward questions.”
“Chloe has a glitch,” Graham mused. “So why didn’t you tell me last week when we were talking about them?” He thought of his dreams and wondered if they had anything to do with a “glitch” like the others.
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Is it embarrassing?”
“I don’t know. Not usually. I just….”
“What?”
“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, okay? Why are you making a big deal of this? You think I’m a freakazoid?”
“Not at all. I just think it’s intriguing.”
She rolled her eyes.
“But not as intriguing as why you’re so resistant to having a boyfriend.” He bit back a grin, thinking he was enjoying teasing her a little too much. He felt like he’d slipped back into an earlier relationship, bantering with Violet as they went off on some half-baked plan to dig up trouble.
“This again?” Chloe said.
“You can dish it out but not take it, huh?”
“My personal life is private.”
“You wouldn’t say that if there were nothing to tell,” Graham said. “I’m guessing there’s a reason, or else you wouldn’t get so defensive.”
Chloe folded her arms, being careful not to nudge her bandage. “Oh yeah? What do you know?”
“More than you think. I think you get off on hooking other people up because you’re afraid of doing it yourself. It’s like some vicarious game for you.”
She huffed out a breath but didn’t answer.
Graham grinned. “Bingo.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“I bet I’m right, though.”
She didn’t answer.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to tell me why. I’m just glad I figured you out. It explains so much—like why you’re so eager to set me up with some Internet stranger.”
“Does this mean you’re not going to let me help you after all?”
“It depends on what you’re trying to help me with.” Graham heard the flirtatiousness in his voice, and warmth spread up the back of his neck, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. He’d finally gotten to a place where he felt comfortable around her.
“You know what I mean. The dating app profile. Why are you resistant to the idea?”
Graham could’ve been as stubborn as she, refusing to talk about the topic, but for him, it wasn’t taboo. “I’m not resistant to dating, just dating someone I don’t know.”
“So get to know whoever you’re interested in first.”
Graham kept his gaze on the road. “Sounds like a plan.” His heart had accelerated, but it felt good, like the surge of adrenaline right before the high school paper had published one of his short stories.
“Okay. Then what’s the problem with accepting a chat with a few of the girls we found on there?”
He measured his words. “Maybe I already have someone in mind.”
“Someone you already know?”
He nodded. “Someone I met just recently.”
“Who?”
He didn’t answer.
“C’mon, who is it? You can’t lead up to it like that and then not tell me.”
“Tell you what. You agree to try dating again, and I’ll tell you who it is.” He wasn’t sure he could hold through on his end of that bargain, but he’d face that problem when…if she agreed.
She groaned.
“What are you so afraid of?” he asked. “You might have a lot of fun.”
“Or it might be excruciating.”
“Well, that all depends on the person. You could always go with someone you already know.” He expected her to say she wasn’t interested in anyone she knew at the moment.
“That’s no guarantee,” she said.
He frowned. “What does that even mean? Wait a minute—that sounds like a different issue. Is it about trust? There’s not one guy you’d feel safe being alone with?”
“I’m not worried about that,” Chloe said. She shrugged. “I just think guys can be manipulative.”
“Whoa—guys can be? What about women?” Graham thought about the girls he’d known in the past.
She shrugged.
“That’s not fair.” He pulled the car into a spot at Jade’s apartment, killed the engine, and turned to face her. “Seriously?”
“It doesn’t mean all of them are…it’s just—you never know.”
“Okay. But why not give it a chance? I mean, if you find someone you really like.”
“I don’t know.”
Graham considered her, the charismatic, confident, upbeat woman he’d met just a few weeks ago. This was a side of her he hadn’t expected. “You don’t know.” He clucked his tongue. “I thought you knew everything.”
She reached across her body to shove him playfully with her non-wounded hand. He caught her wrist and held it in his grasp. Chloe’s fine blonde brows furrowed, giving him a questioning look, but she didn’t pull back.
His words came out low, husky. “Don’t count all of us out.”
She blinked at him with surprise etched on her face. After a moment she pulled her hand away and cleared her throat. “We’d better go tell Jade what happened.”
Graham followed her into the apartment. His mind was caught in a snare he wasn’t sure he wanted to escape.
~
Violet completed one last rep at the deltoids machine before letting the weights fall back onto their resting place. She glanced at the clock—it was nearly five AM, and she’d been working out for the last three hours. Her body was exhausted, and her head was beginning to fuzz over. Maybe she would be able to get some sleep later after Logan went to work. She wiped down the machine with a towel and strode to the bathroom.
The hot shower helped relax her tired muscles, but a gradual pulsing began at the back of her neck and worked its way into her skull. By the time her shower was over it had grown into a throbbing pain. The fog in her head made it hard to think.
It wasn’t until she’d wrapped a towel around herself and stepped into the hall that she realized she must be due for another dose of her pain meds. Lately she’d been popping them down like candy, not bothering to check the time or count the dosage anymore.
Feet still wet from the shower, she tottered into the kitchen and pulled out the drawer where she kept the pills. Grabbing the small, orange bottle that rolled forward, she frowned. A shake told her it was empty. She tossed the bottle across the counter and dug farther into the drawer for another bottle.
Her last trip to the pharmacy had granted her a huge stack of white paper bags filled with the small bottles. When her hand found the ripped remains of one bag, she pulled it out, and it was empty. She cursed and tossed it aside, digging farther into the drawer in her search. Her hand shoved pens and tape and other random items out of the way and finally grasped a cylindrical object.
Hand shaking, she pulled it out. It had no lid, and it was empty. Had they fallen out? A hoarse cry built up at the back of her throat. The throbbing pain beat at her head like the claw of a hammer, slowly chipping away at her skull. She wrenched the drawer out of its track, tugging hard to pull it free. It came loose with a snap, and she tumbled into the opposite counter. She upended the drawer, spilling contents across the tile floor. Pens rolled away, and she searched the mess, looking for even one single, tiny white pill. There were none.
The pent up cry rose, and she released it in a burst of frustration. With the weight of an anvil, the hammer clobbered her head even harder. Her hands flew to clasp her skull, to squeeze against the building pressure, to keep her head from exploding. She had to get more pills—fast.
Logan was upstairs asleep in her bed. Barefooted, she made her way to the staircase. Grasping the rail with an arm, she clawed her way up the slippery wood steps. She snugged the towel around herself tighter so she wouldn’t lose it. As she climbed, she watched the colored threads fluctuating from her hands. So far they held, but she knew it wouldn’t last long. She had to get another dose before she lost control of Logan.
She made it up and staggered to the bed, leaning over Logan’s prone form.
“Logan—get up. We need to go to the pharmacy.” She was in no state to drive—not like this. Not with this flaming agony drumming through her brain.
He rolled over, grunting something unintelligible. His eyelids flickered then sagged closed again.
Another wave of pain wracked her body, and Violet fell to her knees, squeezing her eyes shut. When she opened her eyes again, she glanced down at her hand. The strands were there, flowing from her to Logan, but they were faint wisps, and from the level of her pain, she could tell the meds were wearing off quickly. The cords wouldn’t hold much longer.
“We have to go. Now. C’mon—Logan!” She flopped a hand over the rounded curve of his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
He sat up, groggy eyed, and blinked at her. “Where?”
One of the threads winked out, then another.
“It doesn’t matter—just get on some shoes. We have to—” Violet’s words caught in her throat as she watched the last one come loose and retract into her palm.
Though Logan’s hair was still tousled from sleep and his face pressed with marks from the pillow, his eyes widened with dawning realization.
No, no no! She didn’t have time for this.
The expression in his hazel eyes intensified, turning into a damning stare directed at her. “How could you?” He shook his head, shaking away whatever daze remained. He was lost in a stupor for a fraction of an instant. But that instant was over in a blink, and he climbed off the bed. His form hulked over her.
Another wave of pain wracked her body.
“You used me! You seized my will! I don’t know how you did it, but it’s not happening again.” He grabbed for her.
Violet ducked out of the way, falling onto her belly on the rug. Her towel loosened. She covered her head with an arm.
“I’m not letting you off this time,” Logan said.
She tried to crawl away, but he launched off the bed. He was on top of her before she could go anywhere. His legs trapped her, and his hands grasped her shoulders like he wanted to shake her. His sharp nails dug into her collar bone. She gasped, but her chief pain was the molten river in her head. Her hands flailed around the floor, grasping for something to use as a weapon.
He was growling curses and angry retorts at her, none intelligible to her pain-deafened ears. Her vision was closing in.
One of Violet’s hands scooped under the bed and caught something small—too small to fight him off with. But the feel of it in her hand was an instant comfort. Her palm knew the shape of it, familiar and comforting. It was one of her pill bottles.
Her hand shook, and it rattled softly. There was at least one pill left inside. She just had to get it open.
Above her, Logan demanded answers. He slid a hand below Violet’s shoulder, rolling her over to face him. Her towel came unknotted and slipped down. But she barely noticed. The hand with the pill bottle went behind her head. She pulled her other hand back too, working at the jar’s childproof lid with clumsy fingers.
Logan pinned her to the floor by her shoulders. He didn't crush her bones the way he could have. But his face was wild. “You have no right!” His spittle landed on her cheek.
Violet’s hands grappled with the bottle, fighting the tangle of hair puddled above her head. She felt a pop when the lid came off. Keeping her eyes on his, she prayed he wouldn’t notice what was in her hands. Then she poured out the last few pills. She brought the shaking hand to her mouth in a quick clap, instantly swallowing them down.
“You’re going to pay for this.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and waited.
He could’ve killed her then. She had no doubt of it. Only his nature held him back. But she had the distinct impression he was at war with himself. If the anger won, he might seriously hurt her.
But before he could decide, Violet’s pain ebbed. Relief came, first as a trickle then as a soothing stream flowing over her skull and down her limbs. She managed her first deep breath in too long, and with it, oxygen flooded her system and restored her clarity.
Violet opened her eyes, and the cords were back, stringing out from both hands. Their tips flickered across the room, flailing as if unsure what to latch onto. She locked eyes with Logan. All her fear was gone. His rage was still very alive, turning his face almost feral.
She gave the mental command, and her cords encased his head. Instantly, his features went slack. His expression changed to confusion, and his anger vanished. His cheeks even went a trace of pink as he perched on all fours, hovering over her body.
“This was fun and all,” she said, pulling her towel back into place. “But I need to get some rest. How about you get ready for work and let me sleep.”
Logan nodded, crawled off her, and scrambled to his feet. He started to leave, but she called after him. “And there’s something we need to do tonight, so hurry back when you get off work.”
There was no way she was going to risk running out of pills again. No one would take her control away.
~
Thursday morning Jade stared at the ceiling of her apartment, wis
hing she didn’t have to get out of bed. She let the phone fall from her hand to her floor with a soft thud. It was the first time she’d called in sick to work without being physically ill, but she was too depressed to feel guilty about it.
Her dad had called earlier, waking her with an everything’s-holding-steady report about her mom. But that was only one of the things tormenting her brain. She couldn’t get Logan out of her head. Was this normal after a breakup, or was she having more of those mood swings the doctor mentioned? How long would it take before she could get back to her normal, coherent state? She had nothing else to compare it to, but that icky feeling every time she imagined Logan with another woman wouldn’t go away.
On top of everything else, her paper was due this afternoon, and she still had quite a ways to go on it. She’d barely worked on it the past several weeks with all of the other things going on in her life. She had rationalized calling in sick because she needed to spend all day rewriting her short story.
Still, it wasn’t until after noon that she finally pulled herself out of her slump enough to go make something to eat. She was frying up eggs when someone knocked at her door.
Still in her pajamas, Jade went to open it. Graham, appearing in a button-up shirt and nice jeans, made her suddenly self-conscious. She ran a hand over the messy ball of hair tucked up at the crown of her head. She hadn’t even washed her face today, let alone showered.
“March said you weren’t feeling well.” He shifted his feet awkwardly. “I…sorry for just showing up here, but I remembered your paper was due this afternoon. I wanted to make sure you got my notes today.”
“Oh. Right. Thanks.”
“I texted you….”
“Oh. My phone’s still on silent I think.” She hadn’t had even rescued her phone from her bedroom rug where she’d left it that morning.
Enchanter: The Flawed Series Book Four Page 18
