Dawning (The Risen Series Book 1)

by Marie F. Crow

“That would be totally amazing!” Aimes’ excitement of my idea raises the pitch of her voice and widens her eyes. “Can you tag me in?” she asks, spreading J.D.’s smile wider.

  “Old Hells would,” J.D. says, daring me with his grin of approval.

  “The old Hells also caused a lot of people to get hurt and worse. I was thinking I might need a little self-improvement,” I reply, refusing to take the bait.

  “I totally get the improve-thy-self-stint, but could you do that after you totally smash her face in? Too much to ask?” Aimes asks, dropping to her knees in front of me.

  Aimes holds complete hope in my possible answer with steepled fingers of begging.

  “I am not smashing her face in,” I reply, and she launches her next question before I can take a breath.

  “Can you bludgeon it a little bit?” “No.

  “Not even a smidge?” “No.”

  “How about if you just trip her, and let her face fall into the table, all accidental-like?”

  “Okay.”

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  “Buzz kill.”

  “Sorry.”

  Aimes and I fall into our old pattern of rapid conversation with- out meaning to. We both smile at each other as our verbal volley comes to an end. Falling back into our old habits so easily is reaffirming our bond may be bent, but it is not broken.

  “Never thought I would miss hearing that,” J.D. chuckles. “What are you going to do, Hells?”

  The idea of smashing her smiling face against the wooden table does fill me with warm fuzzies. A few loose teeth in the smile she is spreading for Lawless would do my soul good. Truth is, with its pointy fangs, she is not the one who owes me any loyalty. The whole “last man on earth” threat could very well soon be true. I don’t blame her for trying for Lawless. I blame him for forgetting where home is. As J.D. told me, sometimes you just have to be reminded.

  Aimes nudges Shelia saying, “She has a plan. I smell the smoke.” I always thought the first step was the hardest. It is not. It is the second step. When your brain finally wakes up to what you are about to do, that’s when the fear gets real. The third is not much fun either. That’s when everyone notices you are taking steps.

  The third might also be the hardest because it’s when your friend wants to shout encouragement.

  “Hey y’all watch this!” Aimes shouts from behind me, in a form of a war cry.

  They do.

  The men scatter with my path toward them. Rhett actually has the sense of humor to pull the same wooden table Aimes held hopes for from the couch with his departure wearing a smile. Even Simon encourages Richard and Dolph to give me space. His smile is one Ross would envy. My female outburst must have become legendary with the speed in which they are moving.

  Lawless stands as I draw close to him. He doesn’t move with the rest of them but plants his feet in a dare to come to him. His hands are resting inside the slanted leather vest’s pockets, causing his arms to fold at the elbows with his silent refusal to help me. It gives Leslie the idea he is providing her with extra security with his arms spread wide from the vest’s effect. She attempts to lean against his back, but he steps forward, putting space between her and himself. He will not choose sides. It’s up to me now.

  His eyes are heavy with the unsaid words hanging between us. It tints them a darker brown than their normal warm shade. He is trying to wear his mask, but the edges keep slipping, showing me moments of pleading with his need to end this between us. He is walking a wire with his dare to me and it’s cutting him deeper than he thought it would.

  “What do you want from me?” he asks as I draw near, and his voice is hoarse with the tension between us.

  Leslie knows she is about to lose this battle with his yearning for peace. She slips her arms around him in the space left between his arms and the vest, hinting at her own answer to his question. His head rolls up with her contact, closing his eyes with frustration. “Let go,” he says to the ceiling, but he is telling it to her.

  His voice is at a dangerous level of anger.

  I watch her arms slide slowly from his waist and my own mask slips as he looks back to me. I don’t hide my smile. He stands still, waiting for me to give him my answer, not moved by my amusement of his refusal of her.

  My body moves with the boldness I thought I had lost. My hands glide along the soft leather to wrap around his neck, cradling his head down to me. I stare into his eyes that are swaying rapidly back and forth trying to gain some clue about my thoughts. I know this man. I know every feature of his body, and I know how to use mine to make his respond.

  Rising up to diminish the space between us, I tilt my head, pulling his closer to me. My lips are a mere moment from his and I stand here holding us in this position as we stare at each other.

  Our bodies are sealed together, letting him feel the beat of my heart and the heat of my core. He is fighting his urge to hold me, so afraid of what I may say to him with our many biting words haunting us.

  “I’ll tell you everything,” I whisper against his lips, bringing back the memory of his promise to me last night. “Just give me a little more time.”

  My words are private and meant only for us. This moment draws my pain visibly to the surface. I feel my cheeks grow wet with it. I give to him what he needs from me the most, my heart and my pain.

  He nods, forcing his own tears back with the tight squeezing of his eyes. I seal my promise to him with a gentle sweep of my lips on his. Anything more will undo us both at this moment, stripping us of the war we are fighting internally.

  “I need you,” I whisper against those same lips as they now tremble. I whisper words I have never had the conviction to say to him before, “I love you.”

  His arms enfold me, pulling me tighter against him. He is trembling in our embrace, wrapping his whole body around mine.

  “I’ll give you all the time you need. Just don’t lose me,” he whispers into my neck.

  “How could I?” I whisperingly ask him. “You promised to always come find me.”

  Lawless does a short, amused little laugh against my skin before saying, “It would help if you’d stopped hiding.”

  I answer him with the press of my body harder against his. It allows me to see over his shoulder to the woman standing behind us. I let my eyes hold the same glow, of the same unspoken message Lawless had given Dolph only hours ago.

  He claimed me with his strength. I claimed him with my heart. For never was there a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

  Chapter 43

  If we thought with the many happy endings of yesterday things would magically revert back to the way they were long ago, we were naïve. Yes, Aimes and I are talking, and even share a laugh with her flair for verbiage. Yes, Lawless and I can now sit beside one another without a phantom of dread between us. There may be laughter again in our family. There may be more smiles than haunted stares. There is still the high voltage of tension should certain wires be crossed as well.

  Slowly the wounds J.D. has caused us are healing into faint scars. Scars we will hold to forever remind us of our words, our tears and our pain of having been torn apart. The scars will remind us we belong together. They will remind us so we may know, no matter where we may be, our home is found within each other.

  “We need a Christmas tree,” Aimes offers to our breakfast conversation. She is almost pouting with her realization.

  “Who is this “we” shit?” Rhett asks over a mouthful of his morning toast.

  The men laugh over his brashness, earning them disapproving looks from Aimes. “Come on, there are little kids here. There should still be some type of Christmas.”

  “Think Santa got the vaccine?” Lawless looks to Rhett with his question. They both smile with the joke and the chance to annoy Aimes.

  “Nah, just the elves. They’re freaky little things to begin with, who then ate the fat bastard,” Rhett answers him. They are re- fusing to take her sug
gestion seriously with their routine sense of dark humor.

  Lawless is rubbing his foot against mine with a private flirtation. It’s his new game to see how much contact I can handle from him, and for how long I can keep quiet about it. So far, he has won every round with his stone face, refusing to admit what he is doing to me under tables or in corners holding me against him. “Fine, Hells and I will get one. We don’t need your help,” Aimes tells the table through their smirking laughter.

  “Who is this “we” shit?” I ask her, mimicking Rhett’s opinion.

  My question brings our family fully into laughter. Even the pixie has to laugh with my mocking of her.

  “If you girls want a tree, we will get you a tree,” J.D. tells us, finalizing the deal among the many groans from the men.

  “Marxx, check with Paula and see if she has something that can support it. The rest of you, layer up. It’s going to be cold and I don’t just mean from Barbie,” J.D. tells us as the meal is winding down, casting me a wink.

  I give him back a look to convey my thoughts.

  A chorus of “Yes, Dad” is his answer to the command, earning us all a glare from which we scatter.

  “I can help with a damn tree,” Marxx grumbles with his contempt.

  Marxx is having issues with his new non-active role. The man we trusted with our security is now resigned to rest as we wait for his arm to heal. He is not waiting patiently or happily.

  “Don’t worry Marxzy, the boys here will be all out of stamina when we return, and you will be my knight in shining armor, saving the day with your tree prowess,” Aimes tells him, patting his shoulder.

  Marxx smiles at her while shaking his head.

  “I think I liked it better when you were silent and pouting,” he tells her, but his smile hints at a different answer.

  “Any time you want to test my stamina, Little Girl, you just let me know,” Rhett leans down to say in her ear, turning to be on the other side of her to avoid her playful shove from his words.

  “What are we going to put on this tree?” I ask her, attempting to stop Aimes’ and Rhett’s game of tag.

  We watch their game with a mixture of looks. They are racing up and down the stairwell around us, using us as obstacles to protect them from being tagged. Have I mentioned how much I hate morning people?

  “I guess we are going to have to do another run to find deco- rations. I know there are things we are starting to run low on, anyway,” Chapel suggests. He has no joy in his voice with the idea. Who can blame him with how well the last one went?

  “If we do, it is just us,” J.D. says, leaving no room for argument. “I thought everything was all punched out between you and them?” Aimes missed his implication as she dodges Rhett. I am tempted to trip her. I am not proud of it, but I am. “It is,” he tells her.

  J.D.’s eyes fill in his missing words. It’s not the other men who are being left behind. It’s her and I.

  “Oh.” She got it that time and Rhett gets her too as she starts to run again.

  Just one little trip?

  Lawless wraps his arms around me, walking tandem with me to my room. “You okay with that?”

  “Yeah, I am,” I tell him, and I am.

  “Just promise me you’ll be careful?” I ask him. “And you won’t grow used to leaving me behind.”

  His playful smile graces me before he pulls his lips together in a tighter grin. “I can do that,” he says.

  “Which part?” I ask him, turning in his arms to fully see him. “All of the above,” he says, pulling his body from mine, leaving me feeling cold without his arms around me.

  Lawless kisses me gently and then pulls the door shut between us. He does his double knock pattern on the other side before walking away. It’s his private message letting me know he is giving me the space I have asked for, but he is still here should I need him. We both know I will always need him. Smug bastard. The high school’s lost and found has been very helpful with supplying the needs of clothing with the changing weather. Years of coats and other articles were stashed deep inside an unused office space. The coat I have chosen for myself was one of the most basic of color. The pattern upon it though, not so much. Its many white slashes over the dark blue are not a pattern I would have picked for myself before. Now though, warmth is warmth. Add in as many contrasting, horizontal and vertical slashes you want if it keeps me warm. The lack of mirrors also helps.

  Aimes pops her head into my room. Knocking was never a huge skill set of hers before, why start now?

  “Come on, Tweedle Dee,” she says. Her excitement has her bouncing in place.

  I smile. “Right behind you, Tweedle Dumb.”

  “Yeah,” she pauses, watching me finishing my layering, “that didn’t go as well as I planned there.”

  “It never does,” I tell her, forcing the doors to stay shut that are rattling in my mind. “I can’t believe you want a tree. Really, a Christmas tree, Aimes?”

  “Not you, too,” she groans. “Everything is on a constant down- ward spiral. Can we just try to have this one thing? It’s not like I am asking us to go caroling.”

  “Yet.” I smile at her.

  “Well we could go room to room-” Her mind is already wandering.

  “No.” I cut off her thoughts before she has us all dressed as Frosty or other random classic winter characters, traipsing down the hall to melodies in mismatched pitches, which were not enjoyable before, much less now.

  Outside snow has started to fall, sending winter’s greetings swirling around us. It kisses our cheeks and eyelashes with its many hellos as we exit the high school’s gate. Aimes runs in circles trying to catch the first of the season’s flakes on her tongue. She is lost in her child-like wonder and it carries the rest of us along in her joy.

  “What’s the big deal about this tree?” Rhett asks, watching her twirl.

  She shrugs, which for her means an in-depth conversation of past trauma. The only time she is silent is when she is avoiding speaking of her parents. I am not ashamed to say that sometimes I would ask about her mom just for a moment’s peace. Completely, not ashamed.

  “It was the only time we all got along. I can remember every tree, because it was the only time, they stopped fighting,” Aimes answers him.

  Her parallelism is not unnoticed. It’s our first morning without poison and sarcasm as weapons used in conversations. We are not fragmenting into smaller clusters, but together as a whole in this moment. Her somber mood has a blanket effect on ours, leaving only the sound of the snow underfoot. The dark entrance of the forest surrounding one wing of the school does not help to bring any positive changes to the conversation, either.

  A dark forest, possible Risen lurking, no immediate exit, this is a great plan Aimes. Merry Christmas to one and to all.

  Rhett and Lawless take the lead into the darkness as expected. Aimes makes a great show of twirling the axes we were loaned, trying to comically prove she is ready for whatever is ahead when they passed by us. Her show is not half as amusing as the sudden appearance of Chapel’s hand taking the axe from her without a word spared.

  “So much rudeness,” she tells me with a mocking pout. “Why does she get to keep her axe?” She turns to ask Chapel, still wearing her pout.

  “She’s the one who always finds the damn things.” We can’t argue with his logic, as unsettling as it is.

  “Then maybe she should go first.” Rhett tosses me a teasing smile over his shoulder.

  I know, as brave as they both are, how unsettling that dark ring of trees must be for them. Humor makes everything less scary, even in the dark.

  “I can if you are too scared, Rhett,” I taunt him with my smile. “She does smell better than you,” Lawless says, upping the dare to his partner in crime.

  “Maybe that’s it. All this time we thought it was noise that attracted them. Maybe it’s just a girly scent that’s luring them to her.” Rhett smiles at me, ending the game.

  We both know if the Devi
l himself is waiting for us, Rhett would still be the first one to go in. Rhett will not hide behind his excuses. He would forge his way through his deepest fears if it means keeping one of us from harm.

  “If that were true, Ross would be one dead puppy by now,” J.D. stirs their anger.

  It is an easy emotion to wrap around, and like a shield, they use it to draw their bravery. Great pep talk, Coach.

  “He is,” Lawless says.

  His anger is thicker than our winter coats. It gives him just as much warmth with its inner fire.

  The dark forest swallows us with its paths and ice-heavy trees. The branches sparkle with their frozen limbs hanging around us. The dusting of the snow falls more evenly now without the wind to stir it around us. The forest has a feel of another world with her white, winter dress. With the many sparkling jewels that adorn her, she is beautiful in her cold- ness. I wonder if this is how Alice felt the first time she stepped into Wonderland with its dark, enticing beauty. Will we meet the White Queen or the Red Queen or just a rabbit to annoyingly remind us of how precious time is?

  “What is it exactly we are looking for?” J.D. asks our Christmas Champion. His mood is on a rapid decent as the temperature mimics it.

  “I’ll know when I see it.” Aimes does not let his gruff mood deter her still wrapped in her seasonal joy with her many thoughts of seasons past.

  “See it soon. We are only going so deep,” Rhett tells her.

  J.D. is creeping along as cautiously as the rest of the men. Their eyes are always scanning the spaces between the hidden trees. Every noise pulls their attention, setting them tense with the curiosity of the source.

  “You guys act like we are in the middle of a horror movie. It’s just a forest,” Aimes dramatically announces after watching them spook and twitch with the many noises around us.

  “With snow...,” I return, and she latches to the verbal space I left hanging.

  “….and trees.”

  “….and deer.”

  “….and birds.”

  “….and two annoying women.”

  Rhett sneaks into our volley, ending it with the laughter of the men.