by Laura Del
He looked confused, but he had no right to be. If anyone should be confused, it was me. Then he smirked, and said, “He told me that he was excited to meet his new son-in-law.”
I felt in my gut that he was lying. My father would never say that. The man was not a big fan of me to begin with. So to say that he was excited about anything that I was involved in, especially meeting a man I had married on a whim, was a complete lie.
I backed away as he walked toward me. I didn’t want him too close. “I don’t believe you,” I said after a moment’s silence.
“That is what he said. I swear to it,” he said, giving me his scout’s honor. As if he could have ever been something so pure.
“What in the world did you tell him?” I asked, knowing that he must have lied.
He sighed, frustrated. “I told him it was love at first sight and that I could not stand being without you, so I married you on the spot.”
“And what did he say to that?” This was something I had to hear.
“He approved,” he said with a shrug. He moved closer to me again, but I walked into the study. I couldn’t stand being near him. “What is wrong, my love?”
I threw my hands up at him. I was furious. “I don’t trust you, Sam.”
“Samuel,” he corrected, and I felt the cold grip me again. “You do not see me calling you Patty, do you?”
I turned away from him. I was just so angry. “You let Mike call you Sam,” I hissed, trying to make it sound as though I was calm.
The air behind me became heavy and uncomfortable, and I knew that he was close. “That is because I like the way you say my name,” he said, sounding concerned (like he was capable of such a thing). “Are you all right, my love?”
How could I get him to understand that I didn’t trust him? That something inside him scared me and excited me at the same time? And how could I tell him his lawyer was a better man than he could ever dream to be?
“Should I be worried about you?” he asked, placing his hands on my shoulders. The cold gripped me so tightly that I thought I might black out again, but when I shook my head, he kissed my hair.
“What are you hiding from me, Samuel?” I whispered to myself, swearing it was inaudible.
He hugged me to him so tight that I couldn’t breathe. “I am not hiding anything from you. Why would I hide something from you?”
My heart skipped a frightened beat. Something was very wrong.
That night I had a dream. I never have dreams that I remember in the morning, and sometimes I just see darkness all night, but this I remembered. And the things I saw frightened me more than you could imagine.
I was running from something. I couldn’t see what, but even though I couldn’t see it, I knew.
I stopped, looking over my shoulder in order to see Samuel dressed in his usual black. His bronze skin glowed in the moonlight, while his blue eyes were as cold as the ground beneath my feet. As he walked toward me, he smiled. But instead of that hurting grimace, it was perfectly white and toothy. Well, it was good to know he had teeth. “Do not be afraid, my love,” he said as he touched my face.
I leaned up and touched his. “I’m not.” And for the first time since I’d met him, I wasn’t.
“That is wonderful,” he said, leaning down to kiss me. His hands roamed up and down my back. And as he moved them up, he lifted my nightshirt, and his cold hands caressed my bare flesh.
I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. A second later, he unhooked his lips from mine, tilting me back. I closed my eyes, feeling my hair fall away from my neck. Then he moved one cold hand up, skimming it along my collarbone.
“Do you want me?” he asked, but his voice sounded like he was holding some sort of emotion back.
I wanted to say no, but when I finally looked into his eyes, I just couldn’t. “Yes,” my voice echoed in the darkness as he kissed my jaw, running his lips down and stopping right above my cross.
“Take it off,” he demanded in a hiss. If I was in my right mind, I would’ve told him to go shove it, but all I did was nod. I yanked the chain from my neck, tossing it into the grass. It shimmered for a moment before disappearing completely. That’s when I noticed where we were. And the shivers came over me in a violent wave.
We were in a graveyard. The white tombstones gleamed menacingly in contrast to the dark green earth. There was a mound of freshly dug earth to my right, while the hollowed soil was rock solid under my feet.
Usually I enjoy graveyards. They give me a sense that everything has to come full circle in order for life to move on. Strange coming from a person who’s afraid of large rooms because she was left with the dead. But it’s just something about the smell of the graveyard, like fresh-cut grass and musty earth, that makes me so calm. I think Shakespeare had it right when he said, “We are food for the worms.” Don’t get me wrong. I think life is too short to worry about what might happen after. But there is always something peaceful and fulfilling about seeing that we are all equal in one thing.
Except for in my dream. I was scared out of my wits, and even looking around I knew that this gave a new meaning to the term “graveyard shift.”
Closing my eyes, I kept telling myself to wake up. But when I opened them, we were still together amongst the dead. “What are we doing here?” I asked, trying to be strong, but my voice betrayed me. It shook worse than a person knee-deep in freezing snow.
“I do not know what you are doing,” he breathed against my neck, “but I am eating.”
Huh? “Eating?”
He pulled his head back, and his smile widened. I thought he was going to kiss me, but then I saw that his two canines had become fangs.
I started to scream, but he silenced me by placing his hand over my mouth. “Shh,” he whispered in my ear, his fangs grazing my flesh. “You wouldn’t want to wake the dead, would you?” I whimpered against his hand, and he laughed. “One thing is for sure.” His voice was like ice. “I am going to enjoy this.”
I could feel his mouth open against my neck, and then his fangs were in. At first the pain was only minute. But when my blood hit the surface, it burned all the way down my neck and into my chest. I’d never felt such pain in my life.
Finally he let go of my mouth, and I screamed.
I bolted upright in bed, screaming my head off, and the sweat made my nightshirt stick to my skin. I lifted my matted, sweaty hair off my neck as I felt my heart pound against my ribcage.
The new Friday morning light burned my eyes as it came in through the windows, and I thanked God that Samuel was nowhere in sight. As I blinked hard, making my eyes adjust, the bedroom door slammed open, and I screamed again.
Charlie ran in with a baseball bat. “Pat, what’s wrong?” he asked, ready to swing if necessary.
I took a deep breath. “Everything,” I managed to say, and he sat down on the bed, placing the bat down on the floor so he could hug me. “I had a horrifyingly real nightmare.” I shook violently. “Goodness me, it was dreadful.” Better yet, I should say dead-full. That’s when I became hysterical, and started to hyperventilate.
“There now,” Charlie soothed as he petted my hair and rocked me. “It’s all right. I’m here. Shh, it’s all over now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
I pulled back, looking into his face, and he blinked at me. “What did you say?”
“I said it can’t hurt you anymore.” I noticed that he put an emphasis on “it.” Obviously he’d slipped up and was saving his skin.
I wiped my sweaty face on my collar. “No,” I said, “you said he can’t hurt you. Who’s he?”
“You’re obviously distressed, Pat,” he said, stroking my cheek. “I said it, not he.”
I nodded. I didn’t feel like arguing with him. “You’re right. I must’ve heard you wrong.”
Then Charlie handed me his handkerchief, and I wiped my face properly. “What was the dream about?” The way he asked made me think that he already knew the answer.
“I…” I
paused, thinking of the things that happened. “I don’t remember.” Sure, it was a lie. But I had a feeling that if I told the truth, Samuel would find out and would most likely put me in a mental hospital.
I handed Charlie back his hankie, and he pocketed it. “Oh, come on,” he said with a smile. “You can trust me.”
I didn’t doubt that, but something inside me told me not to. “It’s not that, Charlie.” I moved to the edge of the bed, crisscrossing my legs. “I really just don’t want to talk about it.”
“All right,” he sighed, shrugging disappointedly. “Why don’t you go back to sleep? It’s way too early to be up.”
It was a good idea, but there was one problem. “I can’t.” That was the bad thing about being me. Once I was up, I was up. No exceptions. At least not to my knowledge.
He shrugged again. “Oh, well. How about you get dressed, I’ll get breakfast, and then you can go shopping for tonight’s festivities?”
The party was tonight. “Holy cats, I completely forgot.”
“Everyone will be there,” he said, nudging my arm in excitement. “Including your friend Tina.”
“He invited Tina?” Something about him saying that bothered me. I mean, Samuel didn’t mention it, so you can understand my confusion.
He grimaced. “Not exactly.” He paused, taking a breath. “I did. I thought with your father and sister arriving, you needed all the moral support you could get.”
I wrapped my arms around him, giving him the biggest bear hug. “Oh, Charlie. You’re the best.” That was far beyond the call of duty.
He rubbed my arms. “Just doing my job. Now,” he pushed me back, “do as I say.”
“Yes, sir.” I saluted him. One good thing about my father being a retired marine was that he’d taught me how to salute and obey a direct order. I marched out of the room, still a little wobbly on my feet, but looking forward to shopping. What woman doesn’t love to shop, especially with her best friend?
After I was finished, it was around seven thirty. And I walked down the steps wearing the oversized marines t-shirt that my father had given to me, torn jeans, my pair of Birkenstocks, and to top this sloppy look off, my hair was up in a messy ponytail.
I was down on the last step, when someone knocked on the door. I rolled my eyes. “Come in. It’s always open.” I was expecting it to be Tina, but instead I got Mike.
“Hey, you,” I said, skipping over to him and giving him a one-armed hug.
He hugged me back. “Hey to you too. You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” There really was no need to tell him about the nightmare. “What are you doing here?”
He pulled me into the study, shutting the doors behind us. “I don’t have much time,” he whispered, kissing my hand, “but I had to see you before I went to work.”
I smiled. This man was too sweet for words. “How did you know I’d be up?” As soon as I asked a cold breeze caressed my skin, and I shivered.
He shrugged. “I didn’t. I was just gonna take my chances.”
“Aren’t you coming tonight?” I asked, fixing his torn collar. This man was in desperate need of a good woman. And for a moment, I wanted to be that woman. That is, until the cold came again.
Mike looked confused. “Tonight?”
“The party,” I supplied, but he still looked peculiar. “Everyone’ll be there,” I backtracked. “Including my sister and father.” All because my lowlife, dirty ratfink of a husband decided that it would be a great way to get back at me for something I didn’t understand. I really didn’t like him right now.
His eyes were sad. “I wasn’t invited.”
“Well,” I playfully slapped his arm and stifled an “ouch” (the man was hard as a rock), “now you are.”
“But what about…?” His eyebrows rose in silent question.
I wagged my finger at him. “You let me worry about ole Sammy boy. Besides, I told you I didn’t care. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Oh, I don’t know. Samuel could take you into a graveyard and suck all the blood out of your body? I blinked away last night’s dream.
“I don’t know, bébé. Sam’s a pretty powerful guy. But you’re right. I shouldn’t care either. You wanna know somethin’?” He smiled, his green eyes sparkling as he looped his fingers through mine, swinging my arm back and forth.
One thing was for sure: he could make me smile. “What?” I asked quietly.
“I missed you,” he admitted. “I woke up this mornin’ with a terrible thought…you know…that I would never see you again.”
“Now you know that would never happen. You’re stuck with me for life, Wolf.” Oh, no. I shouldn’t have said that. What if Charlie heard me? Then we would be in real trouble. “And how could you miss me?” I changed the subject. “We just saw each other yesterday.”
Mike looked down at his shoes, and then into my eyes. “I just did.”
That’s when the little red warning light went off in my head. If Charlie really was outside listening then Samuel would hear about this conversation eventually, and I really did not want that to happen. “Mike, you’re a good friend,” even as I said it, I knew I was hurting his feelings, and he would probably think I was being indecisive. “Let’s not ruin it, okay?”
“You’re right,” he agreed, taking a deep breath. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” it really wasn’t. “Just as long as you remember that I’m married to your boss.”
“Did I ever mention that I hate him?” he asked, his scrunched face making me laugh.
“Only about a hundred times,” I said, leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. In hindsight, that wasn’t such a good idea.
Mike moved his hand, swiping a curl out of my face as I looked into his sparkling eyes. He smiled, bending himself so his face was only an inch from mine. I just stood there, wondering what he was doing, but it didn’t take long for me to find out. He placed my head in his hands, kissing my forehead, nose, cheeks, and then my lips.
At first, I pulled away, and then he pinned me gently against one of the bookshelves with his lower body. The kissing came again, but this time I kissed back. This was so wrong. But really, I didn’t care. Mike was the one I had wanted ever since I’d met him. And as the cold came again, it was beaten back by the warmth of Mike’s body against mine.
Our lower bodies were grinding together while his hands roamed up and down my sides. Then he broke free from our overzealous kissing, only to start moving his lips down my neck.
My body was on fire, but when he pulled down my collar, he jumped almost a mile backward. “What the hell is that?” Mike asked, looking like a scared little rabbit.
“What are you talking about?” I was livid as I checked myself over to see if I was intact. He pointed to my neck, just above the collarbone.
My hand flew up, tracing my flesh carefully. Two bumps I hadn’t noticed in the shower were right there. “Oh my…” I ran through the study and the sitting room, banging my way through the double doors, so I could see the mirror. I shut my eyes tight, telling myself it was all a big mistake. That it couldn’t be real. That they were just…but there they were. Two perfectly circular parallel bite marks right above my silver chain.
The scream just came out.
“What happened?” Mike came into the dining room, breathless. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head. “No.” My voice was panicked. It was real. The dream was real. Now, Pat. There’s no such thing as…It made me nauseous just thinking about it.
“They’ll go away,” Mike tried to comfort me, but I was beyond that. “I’m sure it’s nothin’.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something not being said. But I’m sure if it was, I would have fallen to pieces.
I nodded. “You’re right.” That’s right, Patricia. You probably just slept on something. There was no need to jump to silly conclusions. I fixed my shirt, taking a deep breath (or ten). “There’s no need to be upset.”
“Rig
ht,” he said, his breath warm against the back of my neck. “Now, where were we?” He wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing my jaw.
“Mike.” I turned, holding up my hands. “We can’t do this right now.” Of course, now I had some sense. “I’m sorry about this. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Oh, right,” he breathed, rubbing the back of his neck (a definite nervous habit). “Of course I forgive you. There’s nothing to forgive. I was the one who…you know what?” He shook his head. “It really doesn’t matter. Just forget it ever happened.” He walked out of the room, and I followed.
“Mike,” I called after him. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt his feelings.
He held up his hand, his back toward me. “Don’t. I’ll just…um…see you tonight, all right?”
“Sure,” I managed to say without running up to him and jumping on him, but I restrained from making a fool out of myself. “I’ll be seeing you.” Then he was out the door without another word.
As I stood in the foyer alone, I realized that I had become something I hated.
I had become “complicated.”
chapter
NINE
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tina screamed when I explained what happened this morning. “I swear to God. You’re only happy when you’re miserable.”
It had been one heck of a morning. Tina decided that we’d go into this little boutique called Jane’s. It was stylish and quaint, but it definitely had too much pink for my taste. And after I protested, Tina said she’d keelhaul me if I didn’t at least go inside and try something on. So I was in the dressing room trying on my fourth frilly peach dress of the day when I just happened to mention the little escapade I had in the study.
Let just say that Tina had a few choice words for Mike, and then she zoned in on my sanity (a favorite subject of mine lately).
“That’s not true,” I protested as I stuck my hand out of the purple velvet curtain pretending to be a door. She handed me another dress and gave me one of her Tina stares, which isn’t a force to be reckoned with. It consists of one eyebrow cocked, a pursing of the lips, a folding of the arms, and a narrowing of the eyes. This may sound strange, but that look makes your skin crawl and exposes you like an x-ray all at once.
