“We fight. A lot.” Dax and I still weren’t speaking. I wasn’t sure if it was his idea or mine. When I saw him, I didn’t stay quiet on purpose, but I didn’t know exactly what to say. I didn’t know what his deal was.
She stirred the chocolate as I waited for the questions to come gushing forth, like the dam of… I didn’t know any big dams. They were all gone, and I couldn’t think of the ones Bookie had told me about. But if there was a big dam, it was about to gush forth questions.
She stirred, her dam not even dribbling.
Sometimes people needed a little push in the right direction. “Dax. I’m talking about Dax and I. We have some weird silent thing going on.”
She looked up. “Can you grab the sugar from the cabinet behind you?”
I reached around, awkwardly retrieved it, and gave it to her. Sugar in hand, she’d start focusing on the problem. I was sure of it.
Right after she added more sugar and stirred it in.
She dipped a spoon in and shook her head. “No, not quite.” She added more sugar and then retested and nodded, looking pleased.
“Fudge, are you listening to me? All we do is fight.” If she didn’t answer me soon, I was going to have to take drastic measures. The fudge might have to be sacrificed.
She looked up, averting a confectionary disaster. She’d never know how close she had come.
“You are two of the most stubborn people I’ve ever known. What else would you do?” she asked, and then did another couple laps around the kitchen gathering up more candy supplies. From the looks of it, we were going to be stocked solid for a year. From what I’d heard, the last dentist in the area had died right before I’d come here, and they hadn’t found a replacement. If we all lived past the next month, things might get real ugly.
By time she stopped moving around the kitchen, she had enough supplies for another batch. She must have read my expression, because she said, “That batch doesn’t have nuts. Some people like nuts.” I watched as an idea seemed to form in her eyes, and then she pulled out another bowl. “A variety of nuts is always a good idea.”
Fudge looked like she was having the candy equivalent of Chernobyl, but I had my own issues. We needed a little focus here before we were all buried knee-deep in fudge. “Maybe two people as stubborn as me and Dax should limit their exposure to each other?”
She measured out more cocoa into one of the newer bowls. “Is that what you want?”
Huh? What the hell was wrong with her for asking me such a crazy thing? Didn’t she realize my question had been rhetorical? I asked her questions and then she told me why it was okay. That’s how this was supposed to work. “Well, it’s impossible anyway, so I don’t know why you’d even ask what I want. We’re basically partners right now. I can’t avoid him even if I wanted to.”
She didn’t say anything, but smiled over her cracked eggs.
Damn that shifty Fudge. “It’s not very nice to trick people into their own realizations. Isn’t trickery against your religion or something? I thought you had all sorts of rules you had to follow?”
“What do you know of my religion?” she asked, looking like she wanted me to prove I had a clue.
I folded my arms as I found a way to lean back with only partial support from the cabinet. “I might have done some research when I heard about this heaven place.”
“And?”
“I couldn’t get past the rule book.”
“You mean the commandments?”
“Looked like a list of rules to me. If I’m nice to someone I want it to do it because I chose to be nice and not because someone is telling me I won’t be invited to some party of plenty.
“And back to the subject, you were supposed to tell me to stick it out with Dax. Then if it blows up, I can blame it all on you for suggesting it.” She was shaking her head, so I had to put her mind at ease. “I wasn’t going to hurt your feelings by telling you I blamed you. I was just going to think it.”
Fudge stopped stirring. “As if you would do anything because I said so.” She started stirring again after she set that straight. “You two will fall into a groove eventually.”
“How long is eventually?” It was going to be hard to work like this when he wasn’t speaking to me. Or I wasn’t speaking to him, whichever it was.
“I don’t know. You’re both pretty darn stubborn. It could be a while, but eventually you’ll wear down each other’s edges and fall into a comfortable spot.”
I huffed. “He’s got some mighty sharp edges.”
“You both have sharp edges.”
“His are sharper.”
Fudge’s eyes widened a little while she continued to stir, so I took that as her just not wanting to admit I was right.
The front door shut with a familiar rattle, and I leaned on my arm until I could catch sight of who had come in. Then I realized I didn’t need to. I could already feel him.
I leaned back again, as nonchalant as ever, as Dax walked into the kitchen. I stared at the chocolate Fudge stirred as if it were the most amazing sight. If he wasn’t speaking to me, I wasn’t speaking to him.
“You ready for tomorrow?” he asked. The question wasn’t bad, but the tone made it sound as if he’d asked me if I planned on committing murder in the morning.
I un-slumped my back and looked at him. He had made the first effort to speak, so I probably should respond. “Yes,” I said loudly, as if I were proud of the soon-to-be-committed crime. In truth, I’d been avoiding the thought of it since I’d left the Zarrod meeting.
Dax stared. I stared back, neither of us budging so much as a hair. I was glad I’d just warned Fudge about all the fighting. The way Dax was staring at me made me wonder if we were about to get into a new fight right now.
It was ridiculous. He’d agreed with me. Well, actually, he hadn’t. But he hadn’t argued either. That was a type of agreeing in my book. If you stopped fighting then you couldn’t complain.
I hopped off the counter so that I was standing, trying to gain an advantage in our silent standoff. I immediately regretted it, as I gave him a significant height advantage. I wondered if I’d lose ground if I hopped back up on the counter again.
I looked back at the spot I’d just left and realized that was no longer an option. Fudge had gathered more supplies and already taken my counter space back, as if our unspoken fight was fueling her anxiety.
“I’ve got to go take care of something,” I said, and headed for the back door, for Fudge’s sake.
“Don’t go far.”
I knew he wasn’t going to be able to stop himself from ordering me about. I was either free or I wasn’t. “So you’re telling me what I should do?”
“No,” he said, drawing out the O in the most condescending nature I’d ever heard a vowel pronounced. “I’m giving you the facts of the situation so that you can make an informed decision on how to spend your time.”
“Really? Because it sounds like you’re telling me what to do,” I said, stepping forward.
“I wouldn’t think of doing that.”
How did he do that? Say he wouldn’t think of it in a tone that made it sound like that was exactly what he would do?
That was okay—he could use his trickery all he wanted. I’d nail him down to an answer in spite of him. “So if I were to go wandering around, we’d have no issue?”
“I’m not saying I wouldn’t get upset if you did something stupid.”
“Who decides what’s stupid?”
“I think stupid is an obvious distinction.”
Hands went to my hips as I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t agree. What if it’s a borderline stupid but not quite there?”
“If you have to debate it, it’s stupid.”
“So you are telling me what to do.”
“I’m telling you not to be stupid.”
“I’m not stupid.”
“Then why would there be a problem?”
This might have continued on indefinitely if Fudge
hadn’t dropped her baking pan and caused a clatter. “Great. Now look what you did to Fudge.”
“You did it to Fudge.”
“I’ve got to go do stuff because I don’t like upsetting others, and not because I’m told not to, but because I am an innately good person.” I hooked a thumb at my own chest. Yes, that’s right. I’m a good person and don’t you forget it, and that’s why I have to do what I do.
“Dal, don’t be a stupid person.”
“I’m not stupid, but don’t tell me not to be stupid,” I said, and then beelined for the back door as I realized just how idiotic I sounded.
I walked around the house, thinking how the silence might’ve been better, until I found the window to Bookie’s room. The light was on, so he was in there probably reading or something. I looked around the farm and everyone else seemed to be settled in for the night, no one where they’d cause me a problem.
Bookie was going to be mighty mad at me, but it had to be done.
Chapter 12
I woke to the rough feel of Dax’s hands gliding up my legs. It was dark in the room and I’d gone to bed hours ago, expecting to spend another night alone. They moved slowly upward, dragging the shirt I’d worn to bed with them. I didn’t move, but he knew I was wide awake. With his hearing, there was no way to hide my heart beating faster or my breath catching. As I lay on my stomach, his hands continued running up my thighs until they were cupping my ass.
“I thought you were mad at me?” I asked, my voice husky from sleep and now other things that were starting to burn deeply.
“I am,” he said even as one hand moved to the juncture of my legs.
He might’ve been angry, but his hand was being very nice, as his fingers dipped inside me before shifting and rubbing at the sensitive nub until I bowed my back, unable to remain still, my body asking for more.
He used my legs to flip me on my back as he settled lower.
I should’ve told him to go away. If he was mad, he shouldn’t be kissing the inside of my thigh and slowly working his way higher. But I was already burning.
Instead I asked, “So you still want me?” and immediately hated how weak I sounded.
I’d never been weak like this before, but there was something about his man that undid me. I felt the stubble of his cheek graze my skin as he worked farther up, and I didn’t care if he answered. I just wanted him to continue.
Then his tongue and teeth were grazing my clit, while his fingers slid into me, driving me crazy. His hand held me steady when I would’ve arched off the bed. But he pulled back too soon. He moved higher on my body before I had to wonder what he was about.
“I can’t touch you and not be inside of you,” he said, and I wrapped my legs around his hips, urging him to give me something to replace his fingers and letting him know I was done with his teasing.
Resting his weight on his arms, his hands on either side of my face, he looked down into my eyes and said, “If I’m breathing, I want you.”
His lips moved to the sensitive skin beneath my ear as he said, “Show me you’re mine,” before his lips came back to mine and I felt the slow, teasing pace of before shed away, as it did so often once we touched.
I didn’t care if he was angry or not, if this was right or wrong—it just was. I used my legs to urge him forward as I arched upward, not caring about words or anything but him. He met my thrust and sank into me until I was pressed down against the mattress. It was these moments I craved, because when I joined with him, I didn’t think of the Cement Giant or Zarrod or anything. Nothing else mattered but him and me. Everything else ceased to exist.
My fingers curled into his hair and I pulled on it, asking for more even as I was exploding beneath him, because with this man, it was never enough. I’d always want more.
* * *
I looked at the paint chipping off the cement wall, near where I sat at my desk. I reached over and flicked off a loose piece of grey paint to reveal more grey cement, wondering what the point of painting it was.
We’d been waiting for the teacher to stop fussing with whatever it was that had her so interested and start class.
Some of the other kids were fidgeting. They hated these lessons. I heard them complain to each other sometimes. Didn’t make sense to me. They were all stupid. They’d rather be sitting in their cells or the courtyard instead of learning something?
I pulled off another loose chip as her smell made it over to me. I didn’t look over as sweat broke out on my palms and forehead. Was she here for me? I froze, afraid any motion would draw her attention to me. It had been a full week since I’d been called to one of her rooms. It would be coming soon.
Then I heard her voice as she spoke to the teacher in muffled tones. Too scared to look at her directly, I turned my head just enough to catch sight of her skirt in my peripheral vision. Ms. Edith was handing a book to the teacher. She wasn’t here for me—not this time, anyway. Confident that I wasn’t the reason for the visit, I moved my head another couple of inches in their direction. I could see the word “astronomy” written on the spine of the new book the teacher now held.
Ms. Edith turned toward the class, and even though I didn’t have the nerve to lift my gaze up enough to see above the collar of one of those white blouses she always wore under her black suits, I didn’t need to. I had a weird sense when it came to this woman, and I always knew when her attention was trained on me.
Please don’t call me, please don’t call me, repeated over and over again in my mind. I was sweating now, with no way to hide the fear. I hated the fear more than what they did to me. I could handle the pain. It came, it hurt, and then it was gone…usually. Waiting for it was so much worse.
The more I tried to keep my breathing even, the harder it became, and I could feel the sweat on my legs making the skin not covered by my dress stick to the seat. I put my palms on my lap as I stared at them, clenched together to hide the trembling as I waited for her to look away.
Finally, Ms. Edith walked from the room. Her steps echoed against the cement walls. I didn’t look up until I heard them fading down the hall.
I heard one of the kids behind me, a little ass named Jemmy, say, “Look at the sweat hog over here.”
She was ten, two years older than me, and had a gang called the Outlaws. Or at least that was what her and her three friends called themselves. Bunch of dopes.
I turned in my chair. “Let’s see how much water comes out of your eyes when I punch you in the nose later.”
“Dahlia!” the teacher yelled, having heard me clearly. “Turn around and be quiet.”
I did as she instructed immediately, not wanting to risk being expelled from the class and surprised that hadn’t already gotten me a ticket back to my cell.
* * *
“Dal.”
I woke up covered in sweat to Dax standing beside the bed. The sun was filtering into the room. It had to be at least nine. My shirt was soaked through and my hair was damp on my head.
I shoved the hair out of my eyes. “Whew, it’s hot in here,” I said, trying to hide the real reason I looked like I’d been hovering over five gallons of boiling water.
He didn’t move from the side of the bed. “No. It’s not.”
Of course he was right. I actually felt a chill, but didn’t bother arguing the point.
“Go get some food. We have to leave soon,” he said as he moved back to the door.
I got out of bed, and even as I knew I was treading into murky waters, I had to ask. “Why are you willing to help if you disagree?”
“Because I don’t disagree. I just don’t like it.”
With a final look back at me, he shut the door behind him.
After he left, I sat back down, willing to risk being a little late to try and remember the whole dream before the day chased the memory away. Most of the dreams about the Cement Giant were much darker, and then I realized one of the things that was niggling at me. It hadn’t been just a dream. That day had happened.
I remembered it.
Thinking back on it now through an adult’s eyes, Ms. Edith had specifically told the teacher to teach me astronomy. How many times had I gotten thrown out of class because of something my temper had stirred me to say, but not that day? That astronomy class had been for me.
I’d forgotten about that until now. Just like the pencils and paper that had always been left in my cell, what did they know about me that I didn’t? What was I going to lead them to?
Chapter 13
Dax was waiting in front of the house, the rest of our entourage a little farther toward the gate and talking amongst themselves while they waited.
“You messed with his bike, didn’t you?” Dax asked as I walked over to him.
I climbed on the back and settled in. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
He turned his head to me. “Should we wait for him, or is there no chance of him fixing it?”
“We should probably get going.”
“And you call me upper-handed.”
He started up the bike before I had to defend myself, which was good, because I couldn’t.
* * *
The large metal fence that marked the beginning of Newco loomed ahead like it was its own breed of monster.
Dax grabbed my hands where they were still wrapped around his waist, holding me to him for another moment. Had he changed his mind? Was he going to take matters out of my hands? Before I could decide whether I wanted him to, he let go. I climbed off the bike with an energy that didn’t match my insides.
I took a step toward the fence, not looking back at him, because if I did, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to move forward.
The black car was parked on the other side of the fence, and I watched as Croq climbed out, just as he had the first time we’d done this.
As long as he kept moving forward, going ahead with the trade, I’d be okay.
The Magic: Wilds Book Four Page 9
