My Soul to Keep (The Soul Keeper Series - Young Adult Paranormal Romance)

by Solis, Melissa

  “I'll take a slice too, heck just bring the whole thing over here and well go at it.” She smiles looking younger and untroubled. My Christmas lights are still on even though it’s the middle of the day. I walk over and hit the switch.

  “Christmas time is very special for you isn't it.”

  “Yes, it is my favorite time of the year.”

  “Oh, why is that?”

  “It is everything. I love why we celebrate it, the real reason, not the black Friday debacle. My Dad was always home for Christmas. It is the one time of the year where we were always together as a family. Grandma would play the piano and I would sing carols. There are so many good memories. One year in Japan we had this little Charlie Brown looking tree because they had sold out down at the commissary within in a few hours. It wouldn’t even hold our ornaments so, we strung together some popcorn and Craisins and hung it on the sickliest looking branches you’ve ever seen. It was our little sad excuse for a tree and we were happy with it. How about you, do you live here?” I caught her with a mouth full of pie. She smiles through full cheeks.

  “I do live here, this is technically my vacation.”

  “Oh? So you have to work on your vacation? I am really sorry I have been so much trouble.” She shakes her head like it's no big deal. “Well I am going to go take a shower can I get you anything else while you wait?”

  “No I am fine I am just going to go out and give these guys a hand. I'll be back when Sam wakes up.” She disappears once outside the French doors. I’m never going to get used to that.

  The water ebbs the stress out of my shoulders. I massage shampoo into my scalp; the scent of coconut fills the room. I shave my legs and squirt out the body wash onto a pouf, lathering up my body. I like the clean fresh scent of this wash. My mind keeps flashing to the crimson red and black sky and I think about the Keepers outside that are still fighting for me. I wipe the fog off of the mirror and can’t help but wonder, why me?

  I dress in a slinky periwinkle top and long skirt. I comb out my hair and decide to let it air dry. I add a little product to give it soft waves. I spritz my perfume on, admiring the sheer notes of floral. Downstairs is quiet. The plate of cheesecake has been reduced to crumbs. I feel the need to run a few miles worth of pie off. Sam is just beginning to wake up, but still a little ways away. He softly moans and turns over in his sleep. I hope his head isn't too tender, but I'm sure it will be painful for days. The sound of that stapler still makes me shudder just thinking about it.

  “What happened?” Sam musters. His eyes are slight and he touches the top of his head and winces.

  “You were attacked by a crazy bird. It probably had Mad-cow or something. You had to get some staples in your head. ” He cracks a sappy smile at my joke and then falls back asleep. I curl up beside him. I must have fallen asleep. I blink a few times trying to orient myself. Sam opens his eyes. He looks sleepy but happy.

  “Hey there, how are you feeling?”

  “Like a got a beak broke off in my skull. Bad things seem to happen to me every time I visit you,” he jests but it is true. It doesn't help my guilt one bit.

  “Are you hungry? I could make you something.” He eases up and tries to stand. He wobbles a little unsteady at first, but then he regains his balance and strides to the bathroom pausing at the door.

  “No I am fine; I just better try to get home before my dad starts to worry.”

  “Okay.” I go to the kitchen and call Elena's cell phone. Do they get reception in another dimension? She answers on the first ring. “Sam's ready to go,” she says, “I’m on it”, and hangs up. She and Emily would be great friends. Sam emerges from the back room and joins me in the kitchen.

  “You're sure you still want me here?” I hope he doesn't have any false hope of taking things too far this week, but I need him to stay alive.

  “Yes, but we still need to take things slow. Can you behave?”

  “Oh? Like you were behaving this morning, exploring my body with your tongue?” he smirks. “I can definitely behave that way.” Well he's got me there.

  “It was the heat of the moment, it won't happen again.” My face is deadpan. He looks mildly disappointed. He grabs his keys off of the counter and kisses me on the cheek in a very brotherly way.

  “As you wish,” He twirls his keys on his fingers and gives me a devilish smile before he heads out the door. I just have to trust that Elena is with him. After he pulls out of the driveway without being attacked, I can assume she is with him. I wish I could become invisible at the drop of a hat. Sam lives about half an hour away so I hope he won't be gone but about an hour or so. Elena is not very patient.

  Chapter 15 ~ Camping

  When Sam finally walks through the door unscathed I had been reduced to pacing the floor. I run to him and throw my arms around him.

  “Whoa, I like this greeting!” He almost stumbles back from my tackle. He embraces me with his free arm and buries his nose in my hair. He's safe, he's alive and he's mine for the week. He drops his bag and gives me both if his arms. Thank you Elena. Sam pulls back to check on me. He studies my face and smiles.

  “I just missed you, that's all,” I explain. He puts his nose up to mine and whispers.

  “I missed you too.” He kisses the tip of my nose and releases me.

  “How are you feeling?” I glance up at his head. That thing got him right in the crown of his head, it has to be sore.

  “You take away all of my pain. Well that and a couple of Ibuprofen.” He jiggles a bottle out of his pocket. I shake my head at him. Well I've got him. Now what do I do with him? I think I will feed him. Eating, it's what teenage boys do best.

  “You hungry yet?”

  “Starving.” I thought so; he hasn't had anything since yesterday.

  “Well there ya go. I'll start dinner, please make yourself at home.” He plops on the couch, kicks off his boots and props his feet up on the ottoman. He turns on the television and finds a football game on. I busy myself in the kitchen. I take inventory of the food I have. I am so glad I restocked my kitchen a couple of days ago. I feel like I need something light for dinner after last night's meal and polishing off the cheesecake with Elena. Although, I think she ate the majority of it. I pound out a couple of chicken breast and season them. I am neurotic when handling poultry, so I wash my hands half a dozen times during the whole process. Once it's on the grill I spray down the contamination zone like the CDC handles an outbreak. I flip the chicken and chop up the romaine. I think a chicken Caesar salad will be enough for me but I make a side of whole wheat pasta salad for Sam. I put out a couple of place mats on the bar and set out cutlery.

  “What would you like to drink Sam?” He looks up from the game like, did you say something? I clank the ice around in the glass. “I have iced tea, water or soda.”

  “Soda is fine, long as it's not diet.” I smile at him. I never have soda but I thought I may have guests over for New Year’s so I bought a variety. I know Sam prefers Dr. Pepper. I pour him a glass and finish making our plates.

  I walk over to him on the sofa and slide my hands down his shoulders. He has broad muscular shoulders. “Dinner is ready.” I kiss his cheek. He smiles. We go to the bar. He takes a bite of his chicken.

  “Mm this is good. Is there anything you can't do?”

  “I absolutely cannot think of one single thing I am not good at.” We both laugh.

  “I bet you can't play football.”

  “Pssht, I could run circles around you, lady-boy!”

  “Oh, well this I've got to see.” He raises a brow.

  “Bring it on,” I say in a cocky tone.

  “Oh alright, then, let's go.” He is getting feisty.

  After dinner we grab a football out of his truck and I change into jeans and a hoodie. We run out to the beach. The sun is going down, painting the sky with pastel pink and salmon. I grab the ball from Sam's hand and run down the beach, all the while thinking of what is really going on out here. I hope they have it cove
red. I hope I am not making their job any harder. I throw a perfect spiral to Sam and a look of shock crosses his face. Thank you dad, for being a single guy raising a daughter, teaching me things like defensive fighting, football and even how to shoot. Sam tosses the ball back to me. It lands in my hands like he placed it there himself. He would make a good quarter back. I step back ten more feet and throw another good spiral. He looks at me with his chin tucked in his neck, like come on? I stick out my tongue at him. I catch his pass and throw my hand out front like I am running for the touchdown. He tries to catch me and misses as I weave left, just shy of his grasp. I spike the ball in the sand and yell, “Touchdown baby, oh yeah!” I do a little dance and flaunt it in his face. He grabs a hold of me and takes me down to the ground.

  “Oh, I call a flag on the play that was totally holding.” He smiles and crashes his lips down on mine. His lips are hot and they warm the world around us to a simmer. I feel something pressing into my thigh and decide to cool things off.

  “Come on, I'll make some hot chocolate.” I have a bad feeling if he doesn't get off me soon he will be taken off forcibly. He moves quickly to his feet and pulls me up with cat-like grace.

  Inside, I make our drinks and he sits quietly at the bar. He looks a bit worried.

  “Sorry for, you know.” I wonder to which he is referring to and swallow hard at the awkwardness of the moment.

  “Have you ever, you know made love, with anyone?” He brushes his hair back as a flush of pink fills his cheeks. My eyes take note and a smile plays behind my lips, just shy of making an appearance.

  “No. Like I said I have never had a girlfriend before you.” He called me his girlfriend. It sends my heart into palpitations. “Have you?”

  “No, you are my first boyfriend too.” I don't know how to classify what Elijah and I were but I don't think I would have ever put him in the boyfriend category. “Besides, I want to wait until I am married.” There, that should help him exert a little more self-control during this week. But it is true, my dad and I had lengthy awkward conversations about my virtue and I have to agree with his very valid points.

  “I hope to be your last,” he says with reserve. Oh my, is he really talking marriage? Okay well at seventeen, marriage is the furthest thing from my mind.

  “Sam, we still have a long college road ahead of us. Who knows what the future will bring? Have you finished your essay for your Harvard app yet?”

  “Listen to you, seventeen and you are more of a parent to yourself than both of mine put together.”

  “I know I'm sorry, I guess I am.”

  “You know it is okay to act your age sometimes, Bren.”

  “What, would you have us running off to Vegas in five days when I turn eighteen?”

  “Are you saying you would?”

  “No!” I laugh.

  “Huh, okay how about we start with a small commitment like... Would you, Brennen Elizabeth Hale be my girlfriend, again?” He says as he snuggles me up against his chest.

  “Hmm,” I pace the floor like I am contemplating an alternative.

  “Yes.” I smile in his direction. He pulls me back into his arms and kisses my lips. A boom of thunder plays outside at that exact moment, as if the heavens above are declaring their ominous condemnation of our relationship. I shake with a start. He doesn't release me but pulls me in closer. I love being in Sam’s embrace. I feel like I am his again, his to love, his to comfort, his to spoil with unyielding affection. The rain starts to fall in drenching sheets, slapping the windows like the house is taking our lashings. Another clap of thunder rattles the panes. Elena’s voice sneers in my head, heed my warnings, I pull away from him, plopping on the sofa to turn on the nightly news. A special report is beeping on the screen, cautioning of a severe thunder storm that is moving into my area and will have strong winds possible sleet, hail and a massive amount of rain. Sam joins me on the sofa and clicks off the television and makes his way to my lips again. Apparently he wants to spend the night with a make-out session. I smile and kick off my shoes. I think I will take his advice and act my age. Sorry Elena.

  Another clap of thunder and the power goes out. The house becomes quiet except for the constant fall of rain on the roof and our heavy breaths. Sam and I work ourselves up on the sofa to a point of retreat one of us will have to call soon. The house is dark and getting colder by the minute. Our heated bodies are like kindle to a fire neither of us wants to extinguish. The Harvard pennant on my bracelet jingles as if reminding me of the future I am about to forfeit. I push Sam off as I exhale a rush of air and he lands on the floor with a thud. He looks up at me like had I just struck him with a baseball bat.

  “Sorry, are you okay?”

  “Only my ego is bruised,” he says as he sits up from the floor. I shake my head at him.

  “Well I think I'd better get to bed. You can sleep in the downstairs room. Goodnight Sam.” I kiss the top of his head and I retreat upstairs. He was still on the floor looking confused when he left my view. I change into a pair of my warmest pajamas and add a pair of fuzzy socks for extra warmth. If the power doesn't come back on tonight then this house will be freezing by morning. The house already feels chilly. The waning rolls of thunder send me into a deep sleep.

  The morning is gray and cold. The storm has passed but left behind a bleary day. The power is still out and the house feels like Siberia. I wrap my blanket around me and plod downstairs to put on the tea kettle. I find the lighter and ignite the stove. I crank up the gas to the fireplace as well. Sam is still sleeping. I make a cup of tea and sit next to the fire in attempt to thaw my body. Things got pretty steamy between us last night, I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't stopped it. My subconscious knows, she keeps sending out warning bells, and flashing yellow lights. I try and tell her I was just acting my age but she isn't impressed. The fire heats my skin to a light fever and I dig out a book from my bag. I sit sideways on the arm chair and immerse myself in the literary works of Charles Dickens.

  Sam emerges from the bedroom at almost noon. His hair is sticking up wildly like a lion's mane and he touches my cheek with an icy hand as he comes and takes his good morning kiss. His touch sends shivers down the back of my neck.

  “Sleep well?”

  “I live on a farm Bren, so I have not slept in that late in... years. Thank you,” he says while warming himself by the fire. He is wearing only pajama bottoms and they are hung low on his hips. His swimmers physique gives him a long lean torso, gently sculpted and begging to be touched. I can't bring myself to focus back on the book.

  “How about we go camping for real today? Do you have any supplies?”

  “Let's go check the garage, I think I saw some stuff in there that may be camping supplies.” He goes back in the bedroom to get dressed and emerges a few minutes later.

  “I mean the power is still out here, so let's go freeze somewhere with a better view.”

  “That sounds like fun and what's wrong with my view?” I ask while walking out to the garage. It is dark in here. I grab the flashlight off the wall and shine it around.

  “Here let me see it for a minute.” He takes the light and walks around my car. I hear a loud metal pop and see the garage door is being lifted. Light pours through the garage as well as the cold air. I wrap my arms around my body, shivering. There is an area off to the side full of our storage items. I point to the top shelf.

  “There, is that a tent?” I see a bag labeled Magellan.

  “Yep that's a tent. And I see a lantern and a cooler as well. We are in good shape.” He reaches up and pulls down the tent.

  “Hey there is even a propane stove,” I say looking on another shelf. I know my grandmother is not into camping and my dad took me once when we were here, so it must be all of his old stuff, but pretty much in brand new condition.

  An hour later and his truck is packed. I am dressed for an Arctic freeze. I despise the cold. Sam helps me up into his truck. I wonder if the battle raging on my beach will fol
low us or stay behind. As long as Will follows us I guess it doesn't matter. He slides his long legs in and cranks up the truck. I take my place at his side and he puts his flannel covered arm around me. I have never camped in the winter before. I hope I don't freeze to death.

  Sam finds a great spot with the view of Baldface Mountain in the distance. He goes right to work setting up our camp site. He tells me to look for firewood that is dry. It must not have rained up here in this area last night. I manage to find an arm full of wood and bring it down to the site. I take my gloves off as the day begins to thaw. Sam is finished setting up the tent. He emerges from behind after nailing down the last stake.

  “Look's good, I didn't know you were such an outdoors man.” Sam looks proud of his handy work.

  “Yeah, my family is big on camping, we have an R.V now, but for years we roughed it in tents. Caught or killed what we ate, cooked over an open fire and all.” His sweet southern accent just sweetens the pot.

  “My dad took me camping once and I think I ended up sleeping in the truck because I saw an ant in the tent.”

  “Oh don't tell me you are one of them girly girls now are you?” He smiles his boyish grin, charming and rugged combine in equal parts to make one steamy hot guy. His face sports a short stubble of blonde on it, maturing his face into a man’s almost imperceptibly.

  “I hate bugs, I hate being cold, and I hate that the only thing between me and a hacksaw murderer is an eighth of an inch of polyester and a zipper.”