“I am unwell,” he answered, frowning. He didn’t move toward me. Instead, he stood his ground, his hand reaching out to the wall for support.
“I can see that.” I tried to gauge the situation. I should’ve been scared, but I wasn’t. If he wanted me harmed, he could’ve let Tyrone do his worst. “What happened? Where did your wounds go?”
“What?” The struggle to keep his surprise in check showed.
I crossed my arms and leveled a steady stare at him. “Oh, come on. I’m not an idiot.”
“I have not the faintest clue what you are talking about.” He scowled right back at me.
I uncrossed my arms, pointing an accusatory finger at his ribcage.
“There! You had two huge gashes right there.”
He pushed off from the wall and stood tall in front of me. His color was returning as he motioned towards his chest. “You mean right here, where I have no wounds whatsoever?” His tone mocked me.
I walked around him and examined his back. There were no marks there either. “You had these big welts across your back.”
“Do you see any marks back there now?” he asked, feigning innocence.
“No.”
“Well, I would have to say that you have a very active imagination, Ms. Wharton.”
I looked back at him.
His face was expressionless.
“Yeah, okay, so what about all that light business, then?”
He didn’t answer.
“Aha, I knew it! I’m right, aren’t I?” I allowed a triumphant grin to spread across my face.
His countenance took on an ominous aspect—he was mad. I wavered a moment in my smugness.
“You need to stop this, Poesy.” He grabbed me by my arm, squeezing his hand around my bicep. His grip was too tight.
“Let go!” I struggled to keep my voice level. “You’re smushing me!”
His patronizing attitude fanned the flames of my temper. It made me furious, and I shoved as hard as I could on his chest. He broke his embrace and took two steps backward. I promptly stomped on his bare foot.
“Bloody hell, Poesy!” he bellowed, bending over in pain. He jumped up and down, trying to put weight on his trampled foot.
“Maybe you’ll make sense, you arrogant jackass,” I fumed, unleashing my anger. His breath whistled through his clenched teeth as he tried to walk out the pain. “I came to apologize, and you treat me like some sort of lunatic! What are you hiding?”
He barked out a short laugh. “You are lucky I like you,” he growled, pushing on his knees until he was upright again.
“What? Come on, big man, what would you have done?” I snapped. Hands on hips, I glared at him.
He sighed and shook his head. “Go home, Poesy. We are done here tonight,” he muttered.
“What? No way! Are you kidding?”
“I will come seek you out later.” He turned toward the back door.
“Wait!” I reached for his arm, but he just shrugged me off.
“Goodbye, Poesy.” This time he shut the door in my face. I heard the metallic click of the lock.
I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to put one through the porch screen; instead, I groped around on the floor for my ring and found it, thanking my lucky stars that it hadn’t dropped through a crack. Standing up, I stalked back down the stairs.
Later, at home in bed with Daisy snoring softly by my side, I wondered what it all meant and why I wasn’t freaked out at the notion that Adam could glow. I mean, it wasn’t normal, was it? Who lit up like a lightbulb in the middle of the night? And then realization dawned on me—I didn’t care.
For the first time in a long time, life was unpredictable—and I hated to admit it, but I kinda liked it.
4
A blaring ring woke me up.
“Hello?” I croaked into my cell.
It’d been three weeks since I’d seen Adam. The nightmares had started the night after our encounter at his house and they were still haunting my sleep—what little sleep I was getting. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to take a deep calming breath.
“Girl, you know what time it is?” exclaimed Haylee.
“What?” I asked, distracted. Rubbing my eyes, I searched the nightstand for something to drink. My breath tasted like something had crawled into my mouth and died. There was a swig of water left in the bottom of a glass sitting next to the lamp. I drank it and grimaced.
“We’ve got to be at work in fifty minutes.”
“Crap,” I uttered.
“Why you still sleepin’, anyhow?” Haylee asked, not worried about being polite.
“It’s nothing,” I said evasively.
“Well, you need to get your ass up. I’m coming by to get ready, then I’m driving us to work,” she said with a note of finality. Haylee hung up on me. It was Paddy’s annual Halloween party.
I got up and stumbled to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, with my face scrubbed, my teeth brushed, and a big gob of concealer hiding the dark circles under my eyes, I almost looked presentable.
Just in time for Haylee, who walked through my front door, not bothering to knock. “Damn, girl. You look bad.”
“Thanks for noticing.”
She threw her bag on the couch beside me and looked me over. “That nothin’ must’ve been somethin’.” She stood with her hands on hips, inspecting me from top to bottom.
“You could say that.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
I shrugged my shoulders, but I could feel the tension there. Haylee would think I was nuts. “It’s so weird, I don’t even know where to begin. I keep having these sex fantasies about Adam.”
Haylee snorted. “So far, that ain’t weird, girl.”
I sighed. “Yeah, but you don’t understand.” I rubbed my forehead, wondering how to phrase it. “I mean, I’m having the best sex of my life and then right before, well, you know, this thing starts to come out of the darkness and I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s bad and then I’m no longer on a bed but shackled to a slab of rock and Adam is standing there naked, screaming at me to run…and then I wake up.” I didn’t tell her about the part of the dream where he was glowing just like he was that night at his house.
“Huh.” Haylee grunted before plopping down in a chair. “You just went all supernatural on my ass, but girl, it ain’t real. It don’t mean nothin’.”
“I know, but I can’t stop them. It’s every night. I’m almost afraid to go to sleep.”
“Maybe you just need to go back and talk to him. Maybe your mind is caught up ’cause you wanna see him,” she replied. I had told Haylee about our run-in at his house. Well, the believable parts.
“Maybe,” I said, not wholly convinced, “but I don’t know if I want to see him. I mean I do, sort of, but…oh, I don’t know!” I threw my hands up in the air.
“Uh-huh. You got it bad, girl. I ain’t seen you so flustered since never. I mean he’s interestin’, but I’m not sure he’s all that, now.” She had a point.
“I know. I’m crazy, right?” What was wrong with me?
Haylee shrugged before giving me a big smile. “It’s no big deal, girl. Don’t sweat it. If it’s meant to be, it’s gonna be one way or another.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I was actually taking love advice from Haylee—a first.
“Not that I’m mindin’, but we gotta get goin’. I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna be in the shit again with Stevie. Not tonight.”
She was right, of course. I got up off the couch and gave Haylee a big hug before I dashed back to the bedroom for my costume.
I had rebelled against the idea of a store-bought costume and instead had bought a white lacy dress I’d found in a vintage shop downtown. It was from the sixties—a simple A-line dress with spaghetti straps that reached my knees and was topped by a lace shift with bell-bottom sleeves. I’d
bought a pair of sparkly tights from a local party shop, along with a silver halo and a pair of white wings accented with real feathers. The wings had been a risky purchase. When Paddy’s got crowded, it got seriously crowded—the wings probably wouldn’t last the night.
After a quick change, I was dressed and ready to go. I grabbed my Docs before checking on Haylee.
“Wow, Miss Jackson. You make one hot voodoo priestess,” I remarked as I entered the kitchen.
In my absence, Haylee had had her own costume change. She’d put on an indigo peasant skirt with several rows of tiny silver bells belted at her waist. The brassiere she had chosen to go with the long skirt had subtle swatches of violet and lavender sewn haphazardly over the most revealing parts of her caramel skin. Large serpent armlets entwined her biceps just above her elbows, and she had selected a beautiful silver-and-purple scarf imprinted with moons and stars to wrap her dreads in.
I smiled.
Her jade-colored eyes crinkled, and she smiled back. “Girl, you don’t look too bad yourself. I ain’t sure I’d call you angelic, but hey.” She shrugged.
I gave her a little shove.
“Get off!” she chuckled. She pulled on my arm and dragged me toward the door. “Come on!”
Ten minutes later, we were at Paddy’s and, as expected, it was complete chaos.
The bar was in full swing, and a motley crew of Star Wars figures, pirates, aliens, and god knew what else crowded the place. It was unbelievable—I’d never seen so many people packed into Paddy’s. I’d worked many Halloween parties over the years, but nothing came close to this. On the one hand, I’d finally get to pay off some bills; on the other, there was a heaving mass of bodies between us and the bar, which was going to make my night problematic, to say the least. I grabbed Haylee’s hand as we weaved our way through the throng to the kitchen.
The kitchen was just as manic as the bar, and there was hardly time to put our stuff away and get back out onto the floor. With the massive crowd, everyone was working in overdrive. Stevie and I split the downstairs section in half while Haylee worked the upstairs section with one of the waitresses who only worked peak season.
Even that didn’t seem like enough help. Every time I turned around, there was a new customer asking for another beer, a shot of bourbon, or god forbid, some horrible Halloween-themed drink. I was serving another round of tequila slammers when Stevie flagged me down from the bar. He held up a can of pineapple juice, jabbing at the label with his index finger. I nodded and gave him a thumbs-up before going upstairs to the storeroom to retrieve what he wanted.
When I got back to my section, Adam was sitting in it.
“What do you want?”
He sat staring at me, a look of incredulity on his face.
“Well?” I asked curtly.
“What are you supposed to be?”
His question took me by surprise. “An angel. Isn’t it obvious?”
He stared at me as if I had sprouted real wings. He let out a harsh laugh before running his hands over his face and through his hair. He looked rough, with slight stubble on his face, but he was still sexy in his disheveled state. I looked at him questioningly, trying to keep my hormones in check.
“You are something else, do you know that, Poesy Wharton?” His tired face was unreadable.
“I didn’t ask you to sit here.”
“Have you not wondered why we keep being thrown together?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.
“Look–”
He grabbed my hand. “No, listen. I am sorry about the other night.”
“It’s fine,” I replied, distracted by the electrical charge that ran up my arm.
“No, you do not understand. I am unwell.” He grimaced before rubbing his temples. He had withdrawn his hand, and the pleasant buzzing died away, leaving me confused.
“I cannot be your boyfriend because…I am sick.” He spoke more plainly this time.
“Are you serious?” I looked at him, mortified and angry at the same time. My fake wings were practically shaking. “What makes you think I even want a boyfriend?”
“It is obvious.” He stared at me, daring me to argue with him.
He’d hit a little too close to the mark, and I felt my face flush. Yes, I’d been having extremely naughty thoughts, but that didn’t mean I was ready for a commitment…to a complete stranger. I scowled at him.
“Don’t be so full of yourself. I don’t know who you think you are, but around these parts, we show a bit more respect.” I crossed my arms.
“Fine. Can I just get a coffee?” He wasn’t looking at me anymore. His face had tensed up as he glanced around, searching frantically through the crowd, ignoring me. I felt unease creep up my spine. Following his lead, I had my own look into the crowd. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
“What is it?” I asked, forgetting to be mad. He was weirding me out.
“Nothing,” he said absentmindedly. “Can I get that coffee?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Baffled by his behavior, I made my way toward the kitchen, cursing my choice of costume the entire way. The wings made getting through the crowd painfully slow. By the time I got Adam’s coffee and made it back through the same crowd, miraculously not burning myself or a passerby in the process, he was gone. I swore under my breath.
Amanda and Katie Fitzpatrick were now sitting in the booth where Adam had sat, a crumpled-up twenty rested on the table, the only evidence that he’d even been there.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.
“Wow, it’s crazy in here!” exclaimed Katie, grinning like a hyena in heat.
Amanda sat in silence. Her subdued manner was in complete contrast to Katie’s giddiness. I couldn’t help but wonder why Amanda was even in Paddy’s. She looked horrible.
“Hey, can I get a drink or what?” whined Katie.
“Go get it yourself,” I replied. “I’m on break.”
I wasn’t particularly fond of Katie Fitzpatrick. For starters, she was a super thin, albeit cute, indie kid hanger-on who got in everybody’s business. Secondly, she had a thing for Birdie. Seriously. Every time I went to one of his shows, she was there, practically throwing herself in his path. It was irritating.
Katie folded her arms, staring daggers at me, but I wasn’t budging. She got up from the booth, turning her back on me, and stomped toward the bar. I ignored her tantrum and sat down in the booth next to Amanda. Pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear, I looked at her. Silent tears slid down her cheeks.
“Oh, no.” I didn’t need to guess to know the cause of her distress. My chest tightened as I struggled with the knowledge that Amanda was indeed pregnant.
“What can I do?” I asked frantically. Searching for her hand, I found it and squeezed hard.
“There’s nothing you can do,” she said in a deadened voice.
“There must be something,” I insisted.
She acted as if she hadn’t even heard me. “You know what the worst part is?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “He told me he didn’t care. I could die for all that it mattered to him.”
“Maybe he was just shocked about the baby,” I offered, still in the dark about the identity of the baby’s father.
“No.” She was rigid with grief. “He meant it. I can’t believe how much of a fool I’ve been.”
“It’s okay, Amanda, we’ll take care of it.”
“Don’t you get it?” She whipped around and glared at me. “I’m having this baby. Why did I think you’d ever understand? Let me out!” Amanda pushed on my arm, practically shoving me out of the booth. I got to my feet and moved out of the way as she struggled to get free of the table. Her tummy stuck out slightly from her shirt—she couldn’t be showing already?
“Amanda, wait!” I yelled after her as she elbowed her way toward the door, but it was too late. She went out the door into th
e darkness, never looking back.
“Wow, your customer service must really suck,” said a voice behind me.
“Oh, shut up, Katie,” I said as I turned back around to face her.
Too bad it was Brianna instead.
Dressed like an angel. Just like me.
Except she looked like she’d just walked off the set of a Victoria’s Secret’s photo shoot, while I looked like I just had come out of Kmart. Her size-six body was perfectly tanned without a wrinkle of cellulite anywhere in sight. And trust me, I would know, because she was practically wearing nothing. She had donned a silver bra and matching boy shorts that showed off the perfect curve of her buttocks and the smooth surface of her flat stomach. And if that wasn’t enough, she was wearing five-inch wedges and the most impressive pair of snowy white angel wings ever.
I felt ill.
“What do you want, Brianna?” I asked, barely able to keep the contempt out of my voice.
“Well, I was going to ask where you got your outfit, but I’m guessing Salvation Army, right?” She gave me a cruel smile. I should’ve been above the pain, but I wasn’t. The retort dried up on my lips. Between my encounter with Amanda and now with Brianna, I had no energy left to fend her off.
“What? Nothing to say?” She threw her head back, her hands on her perfect waistline. She smelled victory. I looked down at my feet, trying to figure out how I could end this with at least one shred of my dignity still intact.
“Wow, Brianna, where did you find that get-up? Whores R Us?”
My head shot up, and I was just as surprised as Brianna to see Birdie standing there.
“Shut the hell up, Birdie Finch.” She sneered at him.
“Oh come on, Bree. How can you resist this body?” Birdie pointed at his torso.
She was pissed. “I’m not one of your white trash groupies, nutwad!” she spat at him. She kept her distance, but Birdie edged closer, forcing her to back up.
“You’re quite articulate, after all. I thought maybe that secret boob job of yours had made you stupid. Apparently not,” he said, assessing her breasts.
“How dare you?” she shrieked at him.
Watcher (The Shining Ones Book 1) Page 6
