A Touch Morbid

by Leah Clifford

  She sighed angrily. “I don’t know. Like I’m going to take off on you.”

  He shook his head. “I was thinking about how you were last night. Like how you just decided you wanted to kiss me and went for it.” She tensed, but he went on. “So I think if you wanted to take off, you could.” They were getting close to the apartment. He took his arm from her shoulder and pulled out his keys. “I also think if you wanted to quit Touch, you could do that, too.”

  She looked up at him in surprise. Her lips parted, but she closed them a second later so he leaned forward and kissed her quickly.

  “We’re almost there,” he said.

  Jarrod noticed the two Siders on the stairs. He led Sullivan past them up to the security door, his key ready.

  “Hey, man,” one of them said. “She’s going to start coming out again, right? If we wait?”

  “No.” He kept his voice firm, slipped his key into the lock. He had Sullivan go through first, wanted her out of their sight. Jarrod closed the door behind them, making sure it latched. He didn’t think anyone knew what apartment they were in but could only imagine what would happen if the Siders started knocking on the door instead of hanging out front.

  “They’re waiting for your roommate?” Sullivan asked, glancing back out the window next to the door. A face pressed against the glass, watching them. Suddenly, Jarrod realized how much he hadn’t told her.

  “For Eden. Yeah.” As they climbed the stairs, he kept his attention on the keys, fiddling with them until he separated the apartment key. “Look,” he said, turning to Sullivan when they reached the door. “Whatever happens in here, keep it together. Play it cool. I promise I’ll tell you everything after, okay?”

  He should have warned her. At least dropped some hints. Oh, like what? he thought miserably. Hope you’ve got a thing for necrophilia?

  She leaned against the wall as he put the key into the lock. He didn’t have a chance to turn it before the door flew open, yanked away. Eden threw herself at him, squeezing tight enough that his ribs felt like they were cracking again.

  “Jesus Christ, Jarrod. Where the hell have you been?” she demanded. She pulled back, her expression darting from rage to relief. Her eyelids were swollen and pink.

  “You’re not … the Bound…?” She seemed to force herself to take a breath.

  Guilt flooded through him. “Oh God, Eden, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking like that.”

  “You’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine!”

  Her eyes blazed. “Then why the fuck didn’t you answer your phone!” she yelled, throwing her hands out. Eden finally noticed Sullivan and fell silent, the last of her words echoing through the stairwell, fading.

  Sullivan had taken a stride away from the door, lowered a foot onto the step below their landing.

  “I’m sorry,” Eden said, her tone even. “I didn’t realize you had a friend with you.”

  She stared, sizing her up, but Sullivan didn’t break.

  “Eden, this is Sullivan. Sullivan, Eden,” he said carefully. “She’s not normally so hostile right off the bat,” he added, hoping for a break in the tension. Neither of them smiled.

  He shifted closer to Sullivan, put his hand on her back. “I brought her to talk to you.”

  From behind her Jarrod heard footsteps crossing the apartment. Az came to the door.

  “What the hell, man?” His eyes skipped across the tense standoff, settled on Sullivan. Jarrod saw a flash of something cross his face, his mouth opening, closing like he thought better of whatever he was about to say. Which was fine with Jarrod. Eden was enough of a challenge.

  “Do we have to do this in the hallway?” Jarrod asked. Eden crossed her arms over her chest, leaning on the doorframe. Half a minute passed before she stood aside.

  Jarrod whispered to Eden as he passed. “Mortal. Doesn’t know much about us.” Eden nodded, her brow pinched in uncertainty.

  Az dropped onto the couch, his glare menacing. “You ever do anything like that to her again, you and I are going to have issues, understand?”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” If Eden had been as upset as he imagined, Az had had to watch her that way. Jarrod wondered if he’d struggled with the Fall again. Jarrod headed for the kitchen, but Sullivan slowed until Eden caught up, as if she didn’t want Eden at her back.

  The table, pushed in the corner, only had two sides open for sitting. Jarrod tapped a chair and Sullivan dropped onto the seat. He took the other, tipping back and balancing on the legs.

  “She was at Milton’s the other day,” Jarrod started, the pad of his thumb tapping out a nervous rhythm on his knee. “I pointed her out to you.”

  “I remember,” Eden said.

  “I got off my shift yesterday....” He hesitated.

  Sullivan snapped up. “I waited for him and I stole Touch. He stayed with me last night to make sure I didn’t crash and burn.”

  Jarrod’s shoulders slumped. “Shit.”

  Eden stopped pacing. “How do you know about Touch?”

  Jarrod tipped forward, the chair legs striking the floor. “They’re selling it. Like a drug. Sullivan was dating the guy who runs Staten Island. Eden,” he said, looking up, meeting her wide eyes. “She’s addicted to Touch.”

  The refrigerator hummed.

  Eden spun suddenly on Sullivan. “What’re you after?” she demanded.

  Sullivan shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Oh, that’s convenient.”

  Jarrod scoffed. He’d expected drama, but this was getting ridiculous. “Come on, Eden. You’re pissed at me, not her.”

  “She’s not one of us. You had no right to bring her here. We’ve played this game before, Jarrod.”

  He stared her down, his head shaking slightly. “It’s not like that,” he promised.

  “It doesn’t even look slightly familiar? Don’t you remember the last damsel in distress you helped out?” Eden leaned forward as her voice raised, seemed to catch herself as she realized how close she was to Jarrod. He froze, didn’t dare inhale. She tipped her head to the side, careful of her breathing, but her rage didn’t dissipate.

  “Yeah,” he said, catching her eye, holding it. “Before Libby, the last ‘damsel in distress’ I helped out was you, Eden.”

  “Look,” Eden said, turning to Sullivan. “Did Vaughn send you here?”

  “How the hell do you know about Vaughn?” Jarrod cut in. Eden held up her hand to silence him. He turned to Sullivan, unsure what to do, how to react. Did I do it again? Put us all in danger? Doubt filled him.

  “No, I wasn’t sent here.” Sullivan picked angrily at the edge of the tabletop. “I heard about you from Vaughn before I took off. I needed Touch. When I figured out Jarrod worked at that coffee shop, he was easier to get to than you.”

  He couldn’t help the hurt sound that came out of him. Sullivan’s head shot up. She held his gaze but said nothing.

  “So that’s it?” Eden said. “You used him for the Touch?”

  “I never said that.” Sullivan blushed, unconsciously reaching for his gloved hand. He didn’t pull away, but dropped his eyes, embarrassed. Eden didn’t need to know what they’d done last night. “It started that way.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure by now you two have made a real connection. But that,” Eden said, pointing at their hands, “is way more complicated than you know.”

  Jarrod cocked his head, his anger flaring back.

  Next to him, Sullivan unlaced her fingers from his and crossed her arms near her waist. “Yeah, the whole him being dead thing does complicate the issue a bit.”

  Jarrod’s mouth opened but no sound came. He closed it again, turned to Eden. She stared at Sullivan in shock. Jarrod followed her line of vision back.

  A small, almost victorious smile tipped up the corners of Sullivan’s lips. “I saw Vaughn get shot at the club. Three times smack-dab in the chest. He tried to play it off like the bullets only grazed him until I saw the holes. Afte
r that, he had to explain things.”

  She knew. The words jumped around in his head. She knew and she’d known last night and hadn’t cared. “And you were, what, fine with him being…?” Jarrod faded off in disbelief.

  “What, dead? Of course not! I flipped. Complete catatonic freakout mode. But, I got over it.” She dropped her eyes. “I mean, I thought I was in love with him.” Her eyes darted to Jarrod, then away. “Before I left, I heard him talking about you, Eden, where you hung out, so I came here hoping he wouldn’t.”

  “What exactly do you want, Sullivan?” Eden asked.

  She swiped a few strands of black hair back from her face. “I didn’t know what I was getting mixed up in with Vaughn.” She glanced down. “With everything,” she added, quieter. “On the way over here, Jarrod said something about being able to quit.” She took a slow breath. “If I did want to quit Touch,” she said as she looked up at Eden, “would you be able to help me?”

  For almost a full minute, no one spoke. Eden stared at Sullivan, her face unreadable.

  “Jarrod,” Eden said finally. “Living room.”

  They headed in that direction, found Az sitting on the couch. Jarrod wondered why he hadn’t come into the kitchen with them. Maybe he was worried the fighting would set him off. The look he gave Jarrod wasn’t exactly friendly. Eden walked them past him, heading to Jarrod’s room. He closed the door behind them, but Eden kept her voice low anyway.

  “You believe her when she says she’s addicted?”

  He didn’t even pause to consider it. “Yup.”

  “What happens when she doesn’t get it?”

  “Didn’t ask her.” He shrugged. “But she looked pretty bad at Milton’s, didn’t she?”

  Eden asking questions was a good sign. It meant her curiosity was piqued. That she wanted answers.

  She pushed up her sleeves, her bracelets jangling. “Find out. You’re in charge of her, Jarrod. I don’t want her out of your sight.” He nodded, managed not to smile in relief. “If she got out of Staten Island before Vaughn’s little drug ring was broken up, she left right before it happened.” She paused. “Otherwise, she’s lying and she was sent here. Find out what she knows. If Vaughn’s pissed off enough, he might have sent her to see what it would take to get me to work for him, take out the people who stepped on his toes.” She kicked absently at the base of the door. She shook her head. For a second he thought she’d go back on letting Sullivan stay. “Last night, Jarrod. I couldn’t find you. I thought Luke had you.”

  “Eden.”

  “I needed people to look, so I bartered with Madeline. Her Siders searched for you.”

  “In exchange for what?” he asked, suddenly on edge.

  She looked up and met his eyes. “In exchange for me killing Vaughn.”

  “Shit,” Jarrod whispered. “You can’t do that, Eden.”

  She shrugged. “I already said I would. If Sullivan is on the run from Vaughn, I don’t want him tracing her back to us. To me.”

  “Where else is there? I don’t think Sullivan could take Kristen’s…” He tried to find something specific but couldn’t narrow it down to one. “Well, Kristen in general.”

  “We’re in agreement there.” Eden tapped a finger against her lips. “Az and Gabe’s apartment? He said the lease is paid up through the end of the year.”

  “I don’t like being split up. The Bound are around, and Luke seems like he doesn’t want us forgetting about him, either.” Jarrod crossed his arms over his head, his hands gripping his elbows. “Eden, I know you trust Az....”

  “Don’t.”

  “He freaked me out. Those white eyes.” He turned back to her. “One of these times he’s not going to come out of it.”

  “You didn’t seem to care last night.” A moment passed, Jarrod’s shame keeping him silent. Finally, Eden relented. “Az is fine. Madeline’s going to work on finding Gabe. Until she does, he has me. I’m meeting with her tomorrow, so I’ll run this whole addiction thing by her, see what she says.”

  Jarrod leaned against the door, unwilling to let it go so easily. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am,” she said, but there was a waver in her voice he didn’t like. The look in her eyes told him fighting about it wasn’t going to get him anywhere yet. She was still too angry at him for taking off last night.

  “Then I’ll hole up with her at the apartment. You promise me anything goes on with him, he even looks funny, you call me.”

  “I promise.”

  Jarrod opened the door. Before he passed back into the living room, Eden spoke.

  “You just met her, Jarrod,” she said. “I know you want to help her, but my advice? Don’t get too close.”

  “I’m not,” he insisted, but he couldn’t help dropping his eyes.

  CHAPTER 19

  Kristen crossed the street to the cemetery and climbed over the iron fence with ease, the footholds long since memorized. The weight of the past hours pressed her even lower as she hit the ground. Gabriel. She gripped tight to the thick material of her coat below her neck, an oversized button jabbing into her palm. She wished she could crack open her chest, fill it with the unfeeling granite of the tombstones peppered around her.

  Gabe’s words skimmed through her mind even as her eyes skirted across the gravestones: held her under until the last bubbles broke … lied to you for months… Eden…

  Betrayal after betrayal after betrayal. How could they keep something like this from me?

  She straightened and kept going, one foot in front of the other, her footsteps crunching through the snow. She didn’t glance up as she walked, knew the tombstones well enough to turn left after Olson, pass the obelisks for Bennett and Adrian. Finally she slowed, then stopped. Kristen raised her head.

  One of the stained-glass windows had been covered over with plywood, now warped enough that it peeled away at the corner. The heavy oak door was shut, but she knew it had no lock. Kristen opened it slowly.

  The gray winter light streamed in the windows. The center aisle led between four rows of half pews to an old wooden crucifix hung on a beam, an empty candelabra resting to the left. There was no pulpit. It could barely be considered a chapel.

  She considered it home once.

  Those visiting the cemetery didn’t often venture so deep, and if they did, assumed the chapel was a mausoleum. The building had no heat, no electricity, but the steady stones cut the wind. Kristen canvassed the room in case another soul had stumbled upon it, used it for shelter. The chapel was empty.

  Her heart sped up, the scents too familiar, dragging up memories of loneliness and struggle. Everything looked the same. Kristen sat, the cold wood of the pew leeching into her thighs. Though she’d been to the cemetery dozens of times, she hadn’t been back to the chapel since Gabriel had found her, rescued her.

  You’re wasting your time, she thought, licking her lips. It’s not going to work.

  She cast her eyes up to the crucifix hanging above the altar.

  “Hello.” Her voice broke, too quiet. She started again. “This isn’t a prayer, but Gabriel said sins need to be spoken, so maybe someone’s listening.” She yanked the cuffs of her coat down past her wrists. “He needs your help,” she said quietly. “He’s in trouble. Something terrible happened and Az must have tricked or coerced him and I think Gabriel made a terrible mistake.” Her words flowed faster. “And now his punishment is… I can’t see how any of this is helping anyone and if you could—if you could give him another chance.” She stopped, her chest heaving. Gabe had killed Eden. Because Az was too pathetic to do such a horrible thing himself.

  Rage built inside of her. They were there on that roof. They could have helped him, protected him, and didn’t.

  They’d kept it from her. Worse, they’d left Gabe to struggle on his own, let the wicked parts of him chip away until there was nothing left. She raised the back of her hand to her mouth, stifled a sob.

  If she’d been able to get to Gabe sooner, she could have
helped. Instead he’d sent her away, the look in his eyes evil enough that she trembled even now, a dirty, watched feeling creeping over her. Gabriel was gone.

  “No.” Kristen laced her fingers together on the pew in front of her, head bowed, her words coming with renewed vigor. “This part is a prayer. Please,” she whispered. “Please help him. Tell me what to do and I promise you, I’ll get him back to you.”

  The chapel stayed silent and still. She felt nothing, no presence, no heavenly light. She wasn’t sure what she expected, felt more foolish as the seconds ticked away.

  Kristen dropped her head onto her hands and rested it for a beat before she straightened, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “God help me for what I’m about to do,” she whispered, knowing the words were worthless.

  No one was listening.

  She pulled her phone from her pocket and called someone who would.

  When he answered, Luke’s tone was victorious. “Did you see everything you needed to see?” he asked. “If so, I have an offer.”

  “I’m ready to talk,” she said quietly.

  “Where would you like to meet?”

  “Somewhere discreet.” She could hear the smile.

  “Why, Kristen, are you embarrassed to be seen?” With me, she waited for him to finish, but the words didn’t come. The uncomfortable silence thickened, as if the question wasn’t rhetorical, as if he expected an answer, before he continued. “My place would be fine.”

  “Time?” she asked.

  “At your convenience.”

  Kristen saw no point in delaying. “Now.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  She slid the phone into her coat pocket. You’ll do this because you have to, she told herself again.

  Just until I can get back to you, a voice whispered. For a moment, she was sure it belonged to Gabriel, wasn’t merely in her head. But Gabriel was gone. Gabriel had risked everything for Eden.

  For Eden.

  Not caring that he left Kristen behind, no more than collateral damage. Kristen closed her eyes. Do not trust the Fallen, she reminded herself. Gabe was one of them now. Her Gabriel was gone. Luke would help her, but only because they’d started a game they’d never finished. And now he held the full deck.