He paused to briefly send me a condescending look before returning to the papers on his office desk.
“That girl, of course. That blind girl.”
Standing up straight, he brought the crystal to his lips, and the amber-colored whiskey disappeared between his thin lips. He set the glass down and his fingers curved around his hips, his shoulders stiffening. We were squaring off.
“Her name is Araya,” I said, biting off each word.
My eyes gleamed murderously as I waited for him to respond, hoping he’d choose his words wisely. But he was a Dare, and we rarely did anything wisely.
My father sighed and rolled his eyes, dropping into his leather chair.
“It’s obvious to everyone what you’re doing with her, Ryland.”
He moved the chair into his desk, looming over whatever he pretended was more interesting than this conversation.
“Apparently, it’s not obvious to me.”
“The media will eat up the two of you.” He went on. “Multibillionaire’s son takes pity on the nobody, disabled trash.” He looked up, “Don’t worry, they’ll sweeten it up.”
He went back to reading as if he hadn’t said anything out of the norm. I knew what he was doing, and he knew what he was doing, but that didn’t stop me from taking the bait. I had years of practice in not letting him get to me, but tonight that was all shot to hell.
I gripped the glass in my hands until I felt like the lavish crystal was going to crumble into a fine mist of dust in my palm, and I looked down at my hand. My skin lining the glass had turned several shades of white and I knew if I didn’t get rid of it soon, my hands would be several shades of red.
Looking up at my father’s bowed head, my eyes narrowed to thin slits before I chucked the glass just inches to the left of his head. It shattered into a million pieces, sending a shower of brandy across his wall and floor.
For a full minute, he didn’t move, and I wondered if he’d even noticed what happened, and then his head lifted a fraction and he sighed. He looked at me like I was a child throwing a tantrum in a toy store and that grated my nerves. My fists clenched at my sides.
“Do you feel better now?” His patronizing tone ate through his words like acid.
Without answering him, I stalked toward his desk, my muscles bunching with anger and a hate so pure it was almost sad.
Pointing my finger inches from his face, I spat at him through clenched teeth. “If I ever hear you talk about her like that again—”
“You’ll do what?” He challenged, his eyes narrowing. “Choose your words wisely, son.” He warned.
“If I’ve learned anything from you, it’s not to back down from a threat. Even from you. If you talk about her like that again, you’ll be sorry.”
Turning, I walked toward the door, and he bellowed after me.
“Ryland! Don’t you dare walk away from me! This is not over!”
“It was over a long time ago.” I sneered and walked out of his office before he could respond.
Araya
Eighteen
I was walking around in my own little shimmery bubble the next morning, and it was nice and quiet for a change.
Last night had ended way too perfect to let the earlier part of the night get to me. I was never going to be a part of their world and I didn’t want to. I wanted to prove to Ryland that I could, but he didn’t fit into that world any more than I did.
Today was my official date with Ryland, and it was the reason for my dreamy sigh and silly grin. It was also the reason for the unwanted attention, I realized too late, I brought upon myself. Reality was a slap in the face when my blissful little bubble was popped.
“What’s gotten into you?” Nina’s voice was as sharp as a pin and I became gravity’s cruel and twisted joke.
My face took on its usually bleak appearance, and in my typical monotone, I answered her question. “Nothing.”
I knew it was brave to add in the slight attitude, but I couldn’t help it. She was so hot and cold lately. I didn’t know what side of her I was going to get each morning.
She’d been so different since setting me up with Careless. She was practically never short or impatient with me. It was almost scary how easy it was for her to just switch. Occasionally I would catch her in a bad mood and today that mood seemed to be magnified by a hundred. I didn’t want her to ruin what today was about.
I turned toward the kitchen to avoid looking in her direction. I knew she was watching me closely now and it didn’t help that I’d been cleaning the same spot on the table for the last five minutes.
I knew her eyes would be narrowed into slits so thin they were practically closed, her lips pinched in a tight line, making her look older than she really was. Nina was one of those people they invented the phrase misery loves company for. She managed to kill any bit of happiness in the people that surrounded her, and I, her flesh and blood, was no exception.
As far back as I could remember, she’d always been this way, but I had no idea why, and honestly, I couldn’t find it in myself to care anymore. She didn’t exactly inflict warm and fuzzy feelings in other people, and maybe if she wasn’t so unpleasant, I might actually feel sorry for her.
I couldn’t imagine it was easy carrying that much anger around. I’d learned to ignore it, but over the last few weeks, she was actually pleasant and it had become easier to soften toward her. If I stayed on her good side, my life was bearable. However, this morning, I’d messed with the hornets’ nest and her sting was lethal.
She’d gotten up from the table and was right on my heels. When I turned around, I had to lean back so we didn’t touch noses.
“That silly little smile says otherwise.” I didn’t pay attention to the tone of her voice. “You must have enjoyed yourself last night.”
I thought of Ryland instantly and my lips lifted into an impulsive smile. “Yes, I did,” I said dreamily.
I tried to tell myself it was easier that I didn’t see it coming, but I was a bad liar. Her palm connected with my face hard, as she put all her resentment and bitterness into the slap.
My face twisted to the side, my hair becoming a veil of protection, and instinctively my hand covered my stinging cheek. My chest rose and fell rapidly in embarrassment and anger, but I didn’t move.
“Are you still enjoying it? Is it still worth your smiles and sighs?” she spat, moving away from me and toward the door. “I want this house cleaned before I get home. Do you hear me?” she demanded.
She slammed the door so hard the pictures on the thin walls rattled and strained against their hooks.
I was angry with myself for not recognizing the signs. Resentment and hostility had leaked from her words and I’d been too caught up to notice it.
Reaching out for the fridge, I found the handle to the freezer and pulled it open. I shuddered slightly as a light, frozen mist floated around me. My fingertips stung as I searched for the ice pack to put on my cheek.
I found it and made my way to the table to ice my cheek before it could swell. I didn’t feel like explaining this to Ryland.
I sat there until the pack warmed and my face no longer felt puffy to the touch, before I got up to move around and finish my chores.
Stacking the dishes from breakfast on top of each other, I moved them to the sink and filled it with hot water, washing them and putting them away. I smoothed the tablecloth on the table, pushing out the wrinkles and wiping away any crumbs left behind.
I made all three beds next, moving around the small room easily, having memorized where everything was. Folding my sheet in half, I found the middle of my bed, using the headboard as my guide, and folded it out neatly before tucking away the ends. Smoothing out the comforter on top, I replaced my pillows and repeated the process with Nina’s and Carl’s beds.
I went around the room picking up Nina’s discarded clothes that seemed to be thrown over every chair in the place. It didn’t take long to clean up the rest, and I managed to sweep, hang up
the laundry to dry, and iron my dress and put it on before I heard the light tap on the door.
“Just a second,” I called out, buttoning the last few buttons that dipped low around my cleavage.
I hurried to the door, pulling it open and giving one of my saved smiles to the man on the other side.
“Good morning, Mr. Metchler.”
“Araya,” he responded formally. “How are you this morning?”
“I’m good, Mr. Metchler.”
Mr. Abel Metchler was a sweet old man, and he had always shown me nothing but respect since the first time we met.
Two years after my accident, Nina felt I had enough time to adjust to my blindness and it was past time I started helping out with the added expenses my existence caused her.
Nina had known Metchler from the building we lived in and arranged for me to help him with some work for a little shop he owned. If I wasn’t already blind, I could do it blindfolded.
He stopped by this morning to pick up the last case of vials I had for him, and I hoped he would take me to the park with him.
“I was wondering…” I started nervously, twisting my hands together. I listened to him put away the case I’d given him and knew my time was running out. “Do you think you would mind terribly if I tagged along with you again to the park today, Mr. Metchler?”
He passed right through the park on the way to his shop, which was how I’d convinced him to take me the first time. He was a sweet man, and I almost felt guilty using the big blind eyes on him, but I’d been suffocating inside this tiny apartment and I needed to get out.
“It would be my pleasure, dear,” he cooed softly. “Are you ready?”
“Oh yes.”
I rushed to my bed and slipped on my flats, ungracefully hopping in one place as I tried to slip it over my heel.
Smoothing my dress down, I looked up.
“How do I look?”
“You look beautiful.”
Ryland’s voice coated me in a warm blush and I turned in his direction.
The shadow of his body bathed my face, sheltering me from the harsh heat of the sun. His shadow was an imprint in my head now. I knew every detailed outline the light created along the edges of his body, the way it twisted and clung to his silhouette, creating the way I saw Ryland. He may not have defining features that I could see and memorize, but his shape was breathtaking.
“I didn’t hear you come up. You’re so quiet for being so big.”
I knew he was tall and wide by his shadow, possibly built. I knew his muscles were firm. I’d been close enough to him many times now to attest to that. Just thinking of his body made my fingertips tingle with the urge to touch him again.
He was next to me within seconds and his sweet sent swirled around me until I was absorbing him into every pore. His thigh brushed against the side of my leg as he settled onto my blanket next to me.
“Being so big? What makes you think I’m big?” He was curious.
“The edge of your darkness,” I told him simply.
“My what? Is that how you see me? That day in the kitchen you said you would tell me later.” He reminded me.
I laughed. “Get up,” I ordered and he stood, helping me to my feet too.
Standing in front of him, I moved him to block the sun.
“Yes, that’s how I see you. Where the edge of your darkness meets the light around your body,” I explained, moving my hands along the side of his face and down his neck to his shoulders. “It’s not a medical explanation, but it’s how I see it.”
“So you can see the shape of my body?” he asked fascinated.
“It’s a beautiful shadow,” I whispered impulsively and my hands drifted down his arms and over his chest as I lost myself in his darkness.
“I wish you could see how beautiful your shadow is.” He traced the side of my face. “Do you remember—” He stopped.
I leaned in closer. “What?” I pushed.
He cleared his throat. “Do you remember what you look like?” he asked while we sat back down.
I was surprised by his question, and it took me a minute to try and search through my memories for the last time I remembered looking at myself.
It took me a while to remember since this was the first time I consciously tried to. When the image was finally there, I knew it was a few days before the accident. It was the last time I actually paid attention to myself.
I was upset about my unruly red curls that I swore to my mom I was cursed with. I was so disappointed that I didn’t have her gracefully straight blond hair.
“I’m going to cut it!”
I had threatened her, holding long metal scissors to a chunk of my hair. They weren’t even hair scissors, but they would accomplish what I’d set out to do.
“Araya Lynn Noelle.” She only middle-named me when she was serious. “If you harm or cut one strand of that gorgeous red hair, I will hurt you!” she growled across the hall from me as we squared off.
My face was set stubbornly as I weighed the outcome of my consequences.
“Look, we’ll take you to a salon and they can show you how to manage and style it.”
She took a step toward me and I took two steps back.
“Don’t come any closer.” I warned her and she put her hands up, retreating.
“We can do this the hard way or we can do this the easy way, Araya.”
When I didn’t back down, she charged me and I took off running. It took her ten minutes to finally wrestle me to the ground and take the scissors. We laughed so hard we practically fainted from lack of oxygen.
She banned all scissors from the house after that day.
When I awakened in the hospital after hearing Nina and the doctor talk about my mother’s death, they’d wanted to shave the hair around my temple to fix a cut from the accident so I wouldn’t have an ugly scar.
I screamed at the doctor, wanting to know if she was the blind one because I had ugly scars all around eyes. I’d called her stupid and refused to let them cut my hair because it reminded me of my mother. Nina finally told them to leave it alone. I’d been horrible to the nurse, and to this day I felt bad about what I said to her.
I realized Ryland was still waiting for me to answer and I shook away the memory.
“My hair was dark the last time I saw it. Not brown or black, but a simple shade of darkish-red. My eyes are green, but the doctor said they were a very pale green now because of the infection, and that’s why I wear the sunglasses. It’s weird for people when they don’t know why they’re like that. My skin is pale, probably terrifyingly more now since I’m always inside.” I ran my hand down my arm reflexively. “It’s all blurry, and the more time goes by, the harder it is to remember. Does that make sense?”
“Yes.” His voice was a deep, dark purr against my ear, and a shiver slid down my spine. He lifted my chin. “Can I tell you what I see?”
Ryland
Nineteen
She nodded and her hair stroked the side of my face, filling my senses with her scent. Shifting, I moved to sit across from her, fitting against her body like a puzzle piece. She sat with her legs tucked underneath her. Folding my leg under my raised knee, my thigh rested against hers and I leaned into her until we were inches from each other.
My fingers moved against her scalp, twisting through her hair until I captured a piece around my finger and brushed the silky strands against my lips. The scent of her shampoo wasn’t anything fancy like the girls I knew used. It was simple, but she made it exotic and sweet and I wanted to bury my face in the strands.
“Your hair is actually a bright, fiery red. It flares to life like a flame whenever the sun hits the strands perfectly. Whenever I’m around you, I want to bury my fingers in the softness.”
Kissing the lock of hair around my fingers, I brushed it against her lips slowly and my slow smile slid into place when her lips parted and her breathing turned into short breathy pants.
“Your soft-green eyes are the perfec
t color of hydrangeas. My mother use to grow them in her garden and every summer their vibrant green filled the garden with life, and that’s what your eyes do. They fill the world around you with a vibrant burst of color and life, and the fact that you hid them so long behind those sunglasses drives me crazy. I wish you hadn’t.”
I caressed her arm, slowly moving my palm down to the curve of her elbow. Her skin was soft and alluring. I came up with every excuse I could just to touch her. It didn’t matter where; I just needed that constant contact. I stroked the skin just above her elbow, over and over.
“Your skin is like silk—smooth, flawless—and I love touching it, feeling you under my fingers. It carries a soft glow to it. It’s completely natural, no fake tanning chemicals, no makeup—it’s just you.” I lifted her hand and kissed the spot on her wrist where her pulse beat rapidly. My lips moved back and forth along her arm. “I could go on about your lips, your body, and the way they drive me crazy, but I don’t think I should test the limits of your blush.” I smiled against her skin when she turned a deeper red. “That’s what I see.”
She took a deep breath, and the curve of skin along the neckline of her plain cotton dress caught my attention, and I shifted uncomfortably on the ground. I wanted to move my hand over the tempting swell of flesh. I wanted to watch the flash of shocked surprise in her eyes and hear the sharp rush of breath.
“I like this dress on you, hummingbird.”
My finger hooked underneath the top of her dress and I moved it across her skin, getting the response I knew I would. I could feel the blaze of her reaction against my finger and I wanted to push her response, but she was so innocent. I didn’t want to bruise her delicate petals.
“Thank you,” she finally said, running her hands over her lap. “It’s old,” she confessed, as if it mattered to me that she wasn’t draped in expensive labels and imported foreign fabric.
Her white dress was simple, hugging the ends of her shoulders tightly and curving low on her chest. It stretched tightly over her breasts and around her waist, like it was a size too small, before flaring around her hips and thighs.
The Edge Of Darkness Page 16
