The Halo Effect (Cupid Chronicles)

by Allen, Shauna

  “Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. Not his decision? “Thank you for telling me.” Though she didn’t think that would ease her son’s pain.

  An uncomfortable silence filled the line.

  She sighed. “Well, if you didn’t call about Tristan, why did you call?”

  “It’s Noble. He never came to work and he’s not answering his phone. We’re worried about him. Do you know where he is? Can you tell if he’s home?”

  “Oh.” Again, she peeked through the blinds, searching for signs of movement. “Well, his truck is there, but it’s been there all day.” She scanned the outside of the house. “I don’t see any lights or anything and I haven’t seen him come or go on his bikes today.”

  Michael sucked in a breath. “Please, Miz Campbell, Jed or I can come check on him, but you’re much closer. Would you mind? Then call me back? This is not like him at all.”

  She heard the true anxiety in his voice and her heart began to beat a thudding rhythm against her ribcage. “Um, okay. But how do I get in if he doesn’t answer?”

  “Jed says there’s a spare key under the plant by his back door. Please hurry, Miz Campbell.”

  “Okay.” She jumped up out of bed and flipped on the lamp to locate her yoga pants and a hoodie.

  She cleared her throat. “I’ll call you from Noble’s.” She wanted to say more, but really, what was there to say? He’d hurt her son. She’d help Tristan pick up the pieces. Again.

  He thanked her and they hung up.

  She peeked in on Tristan before she ducked out, thankful he’d unlocked his bedroom door. She locked the front door behind her and slipped across the dark yard, sucking in the cold night air and exhaling puffs of white in the frigid air. Everything around her was still and silent in the chill of the winter night and she wished she’d taken the time to grab her jacket.

  She trudged across the grass toward Noble’s front porch. The house remained dark and quiet after she rang the bell twice and knocked. She very nearly turned around to go home, but she remembered the urgency in Michael’s voice. Sighing, she decided to try the back door.

  She glanced up to the velvety black sky pock-marked with millions of brilliant stars and only a sliver of a moon as she made her way around to Noble’s back gate. She let herself in, feeling like a cat burglar. She tried to peer into his windows, but he kept everything shut tight, no lights visible.

  “Should just knock,” she mumbled to herself.

  “Noble!” She pounded on his back door, hoping she didn’t wake any of the neighbors. Nothing. She knocked again for good measure as she dug out her cell phone and dialed his number. Might as well try everything. But, darn it, she was starting to freeze her ass off. Her teeth were chattering.

  His phone rolled over to voicemail as her gaze fell on the outline of a wilting potted plant in the faint moonlight. “Bingo.” Well, here went nothing. She knelt down and lifted the pathetic wilted thing to feel around. Sure enough, her fingers found the sharp ridges of a key.

  She rose and brushed the soil from it before fumbling around trying to slide it into the doorknob. Finally, it slid home and the knob turned easy enough. The door creaked open into Noble’s dark, silent dining room.

  “Noble?” Her voice reverberated back to her eerily.

  She stepped inside and closed the door. She called again and felt along the wall until she found a light switch. The room flooded with light. She glanced over to the kitchen and bit back a groan. What a pigsty. Food-caked dishes were strewn all over the place and the trash was piling up. And the place stank to high heaven.

  “Noble?” She continued further into the living room. It was pretty messy, too, but no Noble. His cell phone beeping on the coffee table explained the missed calls.

  A soft noise down the hallway caught her attention. Sudden visions of a possible attacker paralyzed her. She froze. Maybe coming over here wasn’t such a great idea. But then, as she listened, the noise sounded more like a moan or a groan. Surely a savage attacker wouldn’t give away his presence by sounding so pathetic.

  Slowly, she followed the noise, hoping she wouldn’t find a bloodied or dying Noble. His phone clutched in her sweaty hand like a lifeline, she peered around his bedroom doorway with wide eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness. The smell hit her first. Then the pitiful sight that greeted her made her heart drop.

  Noble was sure he’d died and gone to Hell except for the sweet voice humming as cool hands brushed the hair from his forehead. Hell didn’t have angels.

  The soothing continued as water sloshed next to his ear like it was being wrung from a cloth, then something cold ran across his face as his angel murmured nonsensical words. His body still felt like it was on fire, threatening to burn from the inside out, but some of the pain was starting to subside.

  His own moan ricocheted through the thick air when he tried to swallow past the razors in his throat.

  The room went perfectly still. Where had she gone?

  Then the bed next to him dipped. Something pressed to his lips. “Here, sweetheart, drink,” she whispered.

  He tried to turn away as his body complained, but she urged him again. “No. Drink, Noble. You’re very sick. You need something in your stomach.”

  She placed the drink to his mouth again and he caught the effervescent bubbles of a lemon-lime soda. Reluctantly he accepted it. He grimaced as the bubbly liquid rolled down his tortured throat.

  He opened his burning eyes to narrow slits as chills began to wrack his body.

  Sweet Cheeks was his angel. His heart gave a grateful thump. “Wha—” He coughed, grimaced, and tried again. “What are you doing here?” His words came out as a pained whisper.

  “How long have you been like this?” she demanded with a pointed look.

  Another bout of chills shook his body and he couldn’t speak. She seemed to take pity on him as she eyed him up and down. “Michael called me. They were worried when you didn’t show up to work and didn’t answer your phone.”

  Ah, Hell. He shifted his lump of an unforgiving body and tried to stand. The awkward movement didn’t go so well.

  She stood and shoved him back easily. “Don’t even think about it. You look like shit. I already called Gentry’s and told them you were sick as a dog and I had you under control, so you can relax there, big boy.” She continued to study him. “You really do look like warmed over dog crap.”

  “Thanks,” he croaked.

  “And by the looks of your kitchen I’m guessing you’ve been holed up in here for a while. Why didn’t you call?”

  Because he’d never had anyone but himself to call other than Jed, and he didn’t expect his friend to be his nursemaid. But instead of saying so, he shrugged. “Wasn’t up to it. Plus, I figured you’d be busy and didn’t want to bug you.”

  She sat next to him, making the bed dip again delicately. “Noble. You’ve done so much more for me and Tristan than I could ever repay. You could never bug me.” She leaned over and brushed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “So now I’ll take care of you, my poor, incapacitated, sickly friend.”

  He studied her eyes. It was obvious she wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. “Thanks.”

  She nodded. “No worries, babe.”

  “But you should keep your distance. I’m probably contagious.”

  She dipped one delicate brow disbelievingly. “You and your germs don’t scare me. I’m a teacher, remember? I’ve been exposed to worse.”

  He watched as she slipped from the room. She returned a few minutes later with an armload of supplies. “Okay, first things first. You stink. We’ve gotta get the funk off you. You’ll feel better once you’re clean and sleeping on clean sheets. You think you can handle a shower? Or do you want a bed bath?” She shot him a saucy grin.

  “I think I’ll
try a shower.”

  Her smile widened. “Darn.”

  A smile floated about his lips for the first time in days. He groaned as he tried to sit up on the edge of the bed.

  She flopped down her load of stuff in the corner chair and rifled through his closet. She reappeared with a pair of his flannel pajama pants and a T-shirt. “All righty. Let me get the shower going for you. Hold on a sec.” She ducked into the bathroom. Water sputtered from the faucets before the shower hissed to life. “Okay, it’s ready. I put everything you’d need right there so you can wash, shave, whatever. Get in, get out. Fast. I’ll change the sheets while you’re in there.”

  She stood with her hand out expectantly. He took her palm and gently stood, his head only spinning a tad. She escorted him to the bathroom and peered up at him with her glorious tawny eyes. “Well. This is as far as I go.” She winked. “Call me if you need help washing your back.” She turned and closed the door.

  When he came out from his shower, his bed was made with fresh sheets and she was returning with a bowl of chicken noodle soup.

  She inclined her head toward the bed. “Settle in so you can eat.” She smiled. “Fresh from the can.”

  He collapsed onto the bed out of sheer exhaustion. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

  “Sure I did. Now sit up so you can try this. Doctor’s orders.”

  He managed a few bites and the Tylenol she force-fed him before she was literally tucking him in. “Now try to get some sleep,” she said. “I need to go back home and check on Tristan and get some rest myself. I’ll check on you again tomorrow, okay?”

  He was too out of it to answer as sleep claimed him and she let herself out, but his last waking thought was what he wouldn’t give to be worthy of an angel.

  Chapter 29

  Noble woke to the sun beating down on face and feeling like he’d swallowed a bowl of dust. He groaned. How long had he been lying here? Then he had a flash of Sweet Cheeks in his room ushering him into the shower. When had that been? Last night?

  He shifted and listened as the sounds of music drifted from down the hall and pot lids clanked. Had Sweet Cheeks returned so soon? Before he could formulate another thought, the soft padding of someone coming down the hallway brought her front and center to the foot of his bed.

  “Oh, good, you’re finally awake. You feeling better?” She smiled sweetly and held a steaming plate in her hands.

  He couldn’t answer, his brain was apparently mush.

  She approached like it was no big deal. “I’ve been checking on you regularly. You’ve been in and out of it for the last couple days. I called my doctor and he said there’s a nasty virus going around and you’d be fine. Must be one hell of a bug to knock you for a loop like that.” She turned compassionate eyes to him as she set the plate down on the bedside table. “But if you weren’t any better today I was going to truck you off to the hospital myself.” She inclined her head toward the food. “I made you some scrambled eggs. Why don’t you try to eat?”

  He moved to sit up. Suddenly he was ravenous. She smiled as he practically inhaled the plate of food.

  She reached over and placed the back of her hand to his forehead. “Your fever’s finally broken. That’s good.”

  “Thank you. For everything,” he finally said as he sat back, sated.

  “You’re welcome. Least I can do. Here.” She offered him a glass of something blue. “It’s Gatorade.” She answered the question in his eyes.

  He drank it all in three swallows.

  “Anything else you need?” she asked. “Another shower?”

  A smile tempted his lips, but he was too tired to let it grow. “Maybe later.” He thought a moment. “What’s today? I guess I need to call Jed and let him know I’m outta commission.”

  “I already took care of that for you. And it’s Friday.”

  He’d been out that long? Holy shit. He studied her face. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

  Her lashes dipped as she glanced at the floor. “I called in sick.”

  “To take care of me?”

  Her eyes shot back up to his as she nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Because.” She picked up his empty plate and cup. “You deserve it, Noble. You deserve a whole lot more than I can give you, as far as I’m concerned.”

  He watched her retreating back, unsure what to say to that. There was so much more he wished she could give him . . .

  She finally came back about twenty minutes later just as he was starting to drift off. His eyes popped open when he heard her, rather felt her, enter the room.

  “So,” she began, fidgeting with the edge of her T-shirt, “your kitchen and living room are clean now. Your laundry’s done and clean sheets are in the corner there and everything’s ready for when you get up to shower. I’ve got some soup ready for you in the fridge.” She hesitated a moment. “I guess there’s no reason for me to hang around.”

  Something pinged in his heart. He’d never had anyone take care of him like this. Never.

  She took a step backward. “I’m really glad you’re feeling better. I’ll see you soon?”

  “Wait.”

  She froze, uncertainty painted on her delicate features.

  “Would you stay?”

  “Sure. Do you need something?”

  “No.” He struggled to sit up. “But I’d like you to stay. Please.”

  “But—”

  “You’re right. I’m feeling better. I need to get the hell outta this bed for a while. Let me get a quick shower then how ‘bout if we watch a movie and eat some of that soup you made or something?” He watched as the resistance literally slid off of her. “Just hang out with me, Braelyn.”

  Emotion flooded her eyes as she nodded. “Okay. Go grab a shower. I’ll heat up the soup.”

  Michael knocked on Noble’s door, hoping he wasn’t disturbing his rest too much. Braelyn had been kind enough to keep them updated, but he’d been tasked with dropping off a care package from Kyle and Ariel.

  The door swung open. His eyes had to track down to find a face. Miz Braelyn? An automatic flair of hope lit up inside of him before he could tamp it down.

  “Hello, Michael,” she said softly.

  “Miz Campbell.” He hefted the bag full of crackers, Kleenex, pain relievers, and drinks. “I came to check on Noble and bring him some things. From everyone at the studio.”

  She opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Come on in. We were just watching TV. He might’ve dozed off, though.”

  Michael moved into the kitchen, bypassing the living area and the sounds of an action flick. He waited until Braelyn followed him. He hated that she still seemed wary of him since the changes in the Buddy Program. But he had to trust that Father had made the right decision for all of them. He offered her a small, hopefully reassuring, smile. “How’s Tristan?”

  “He’s good.”

  He nodded once. “I’m glad to hear it. I miss him. Maybe . . .” He glanced at her as an idea began to take shape. Could he do it? Would it be a blatant disregard of Father’s plan? Surely not. Just because they weren’t Buddies anymore didn’t mean they couldn’t spend time together. After all, he was still a part of this assignment.

  “Maybe what?”

  A scream from the television brought his attention full circle, solidifying the plan in his mind. He flared up a quick, silent prayer, hoping his thoughts were headed in the right direction. “Well, I was thinkin’, maybe Tristan would wanna come hang out with me at my place for a while? I could take the night off. We haven’t gotten to spend much time together lately. And just because we can’t do it officially doesn’t mean we can’t do it at all, right?” Jed would absolutely pitch a fit since he’d be down two tattoo artists, but he would make it up to him. Prioritie
s, after all.

  Her brows knitted in confusion. “Oh, well, uh, he’s not here.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment settled heavily in his gut. So much for salvaging his relationship with Tristan and allowing Noble and Braelyn an evening alone.

  “But I was going to call him to come home soon from his friend Nate’s. We could ask him?”

  Hope blossomed again. “Okay. Sure. That’d be great.”

  She shuffled through her purse for a cell phone and dialed. A few seconds later there was an obvious debate on the merits of purchasing yet another video game before she asked him about coming home. “Michael’s here.” She glanced his way. “He was wondering if you’d want to go spend some time with him at his place.” A moment’s silence. “Yes.” Her eyes darted away. “I know, son.”

  Michael saw the shift in her body language and knew what Tristan was saying even without the words. He’d lost him. How could this be Father’s plan?

  She spoke a few more hushed words before he heard her murmur, “Well, okay, if you want to, sweetie. Call me on my cell phone if you need anything. I love you.”

  She hung up and turned around. “I’m sorry, Michael. He wants to spend the night with his friend tonight. Maybe another time?”

  Somehow Michael knew there’d probably be no other times. But as he realized the opportunity this presented for his couple, he couldn’t be all that upset.

  Father, he thought, please work your magic here tonight.

  Braelyn let Michael out and returned to Noble in the living room. He was crashed out on the sofa, just as dark and sexy as always, sick or not. She was absolutely shameless. She tucked a light blanket over him and cleaned up their soup dishes, wondering what she should do now. It was early, he was no company, and she had no child to worry with. Well, she could hang out a little longer before going home to her lonely, empty home.