“Okay,” I lied, not sure if I should worry about the lack of locked doors, or about the people who would be undeterred by one.
“Oy!” Dermot called from downstairs. “Anyone ‘ere?”
“Up here!” I called. “Connor’s channeling his inner rock star.”
Dermot was up the stairs in a flash. “I’m in! Connor’s as useless as a chocolate teapot at this game!”
“Bring it on, Wee One!” Connor said, mocking Dermot’s thick Irish accent. Dermot punched his arm playfully once, and within seconds they were both fully into their rock star personas, letting it all out for Heart’s “Barracuda” followed by The Scorpions’ “Rock You Like a Hurricane.”
As incredibly amusing as it was to watch two full grown men head banging and wailing on the little plastic guitars, I soon found my eyes were drooping, and I didn’t fight it. I felt a blanket placed over me at one point, but I could tell that they were still playing their game. I let sleep sink in.
I’m not sure how much later it was, but I was vaguely aware of a pair of strong arms lifting me from the recliner. Moments later I felt a luxurious mattress below me, and the silk duvet pulled over me. I thought I felt soft fingertips brush my hair off my face, followed by a deep sigh, but I was too out of it to know for sure.
I waited for sleep to return, but it didn’t. I tossed a few times, my ribs protesting when I flipped to my stomach in an attempt to get comfortable. After what felt like an hour of restlessness, I opened my eyes. It was too comfortable. Everything was so big. At home I could hang a leg off the bed and it would rest comfortably on the floor. Here, I practically had to hop to get off the massive mattress. I landed with a soft thud, pausing to hear if my noise had awoken anyone. It seemed quiet, so I went to check the window. It was dark, but I couldn’t tell if it was early in the morning, or late in the night. Flicking on one of the lamps, I sat down in the armchair by the window. I was still in my clothes from earlier that day, and I hadn’t brushed my teeth. I felt icky. As if in response to my thoughts, my eyes fell on a small suitcase off to one side of the room. I wasn’t sure if I should open it as it was clearly not mine (my suitcase was black with white polka dots, where as this one was bright red.) It wasn’t locked though, so I decided to chance it. I was glad I did, noticing my favorite flannel pajamas on the top of the rest of my clothes. My toiletry bag was there as well, and I figured if I wasn’t going to sleep I might as well be productive with myself.
I tiptoed out of my room to the bathroom, hoping I wouldn’t wake Connor with the sound of the shower. The water felt incredible against my clammy skin. It had been a while since I had felt a shower with real water pressure, and this felt like a gentle massage against my aching frame. The heat was soothing, and I soon found myself lost in my thoughts.
So, I was some sort of… what? A battery? I felt myself smile at that. That’s exactly what I was. A living, breathing battery. That wasn’t so bad. Plus, I liked the way it felt to have the power flow through me; the small amount I had this afternoon had dissipated too quickly, though. I definitely would have to look for a source nearby.
What else? Casper was dangerous, which I realized I still had a hard time reconciling in my head. The kiss had felt so real… But I had to stop thinking that. He had used me, and in my naïveté I had let myself be used. Now, I was in danger. Worse, I had inadvertently told Casper where the stone was, and now Nic was in danger too. And what about Connor? Now he had to be on bodyguard duty in order to keep me safe? What if he got hurt too?
Eventually the water in the shower started to cool and I realized that it was time to get back to bed. I dried myself, got into my pajamas and brushed my teeth. Looking out the window, I was aware of the faint rays of sunlight peeking through the horizon. Hopefully I would be able to get back to sleep, I thought. As I left the bathroom, I caught Connor quietly clicking his door shut. He looked shocked to see me.
“You’re up early,” he asked, almost in a question.
“Don’t worry,” I laughed, “I’m going back to bed the second I hit the mattress.”
“Well, I have to go in to Mobius to pick up my laptop and talk to my team. I should be back in a couple hours, probably before you wake up again. Dermot’s downstairs, so you won’t be alone.” He didn’t wait for a response, heading down the stairs as he spoke. He paused partway down though, looking up at me again. I felt very self conscious of the penguins sledding all over my pajamas, but I tried to hide it.
“Don’t think you can escape or anything. I’ll know,” he tapped his forehead then chuckled.
“Don’t worry,” I replied sleepily. “I’m going to bed. Sleeeeeeeeeeeep time.” I headed back into my room and closed the door. Setting my toiletries down on the nightstand I flopped onto the bed and burrowed my way back under the covers.
I was still restless. I tried to sleep in several positions, even going full starfish and spreading out across the whole bed, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I was beyond tired, and this was frustrating me to no end.
It was the bed, I decided. It was so big and soft, and my body was used to my tiny old mattress back at my apartment. In one swift move, so quick that only someone exasperated with their current lack of sleep could pull off, I stripped the bed, grabbed a pillow and trudged into the massive closet. It was closer to the size of my room, and I felt a strange sense of comfort by having the walls so close. Claustrophilia, I laughed to myself as I spread out the sheets and duvet onto the plush carpet.
Sleep came quickly; it was the sort of dead, dreamless sleep that truly rejuvenates you. When I started to wake, I felt too good to let the sleep disappear, and I dozed soothingly on the floor. I thought I heard a soft knock, but I ignored it. I was content where I was. I heard the sound of the bedroom door open, and I was grateful I had remembered to close the closet door before I fell asleep. I wanted to shout “Go away!” but I was still too drowsy to speak.
“Feckin’ wick!” I heard Dermot exclaim, but before I could respond I heard his footsteps racing down the stairs. Good, I thought, back to sleep.
I don’t think I slept as long this time, jolted awake by a slamming door downstairs and raised voices. I heard loud footsteps trudge up the stairs and the loud bang as the bedroom door flung open. I froze, terrified, my mind running through all the ways to incapacitate an attacker.
“I can’t believe you lost her!” I heard Connor yell.
“I didn’t! She never came downstairs! They could’ve come through the window, I suppose…” he trailed off, and I presumed they had left the room because Connor’s angry reply was too muffled to hear. I started to doze again, glad that I was safe and that no one had come for me through the window, as Dermot had thought.
I snapped awake. They didn’t know I was in the closet.
Cautiously, I opened one of the closet doors, and silently made my way out of the bedroom. They were both outside the room, backs to me, apparently done arguing.
Connor was seated, his head resting in one hand, and an open cell phone resting in his other, noticeably trembling hand. Neither seemed to notice me. Bracing myself, I took a deep breath, knowing the answer to question I was about to ask.
“What’s going on?” I said, just loud enough that they would hear.
They both whipped their heads around in unison. Dermot grinned with relief, but Connor’s expression troubled me. He looked haggard and pale. His brow was furrowed with anxiety. He looked through me at first, not letting himself focus. Then, a look of recognition cleared the worry from his face and he dropped the cell phone. He crossed the room in three long strides, hugging me hard. It was the first time he had ever done that, and I sensed it was more to comfort him than it was to comfort me.
“Ribs,” I choked out, his tight embrace pinching just a little too much.
“Oh! Sorry, Alex. It’s just- I thought-” His tone turned authoritative, “Where were you?” Before I could answer I saw him raise an eyebrow. I turned to see what he was looking at, and immediately saw
the tangle of blankets in the closet. My faced flushed. With one cautious finger he pulled my chin to face him. I had to look up at him, but I didn’t want to. My face burned hotter. I was caught.
“Is there something wrong with your room?” He turned comical now, seemingly amused at my makeshift bed.
I searched for an explanation that wouldn’t offend his hospitality. “I… um…” I stuttered, “It’s just that I’m not used to so much space.” I hoped that would work, because it was true.
“So you slept in the closet?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” I shrugged. “I’m sorry to have caused a fuss. Don’t worry, I’ll sleep in the bed tonight. I was just having one of those moments last night, is all.” I didn’t mention that lately I felt like my whole life was a series of “one of those moments”.
“Are you up for breakfast… er… lunch?” he asked.
“Lunch? Did I sleep that long?”
He nodded. “You’ve been through a lot. Yesterday was your first day back on your feet. It probably took a lot out of you. Come on, let’s get you some food.”
I was famished. I ate two sandwiches in record time, despite trying to eat them slowly, but in the end only pausing to speak now and then.
“Did you get what you needed from the office?” I asked, gulping down a swig of milk before chomping back into my sandwich.
Connor huffed a bit before replying, “I finished debriefing my team, but in my haste to leave I forgot my laptop. I will have to go back this afternoon.” He seemed irritated.
“What was the rush?” I asked, still chewing.
“Alex,” he looked at me with his expressive eyes, and I knew the answer before he said it. “I received a much panicked phone call from a certain babysi-” he looked at my scowl, “er, bodyguard, saying he had lost the one thing he was supposed to watch over.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“So I’m going to head back there in a few minutes. I trust you can stay out of trouble, and not fall asleep in any closets?”
I felt like a child. “Yeah,” I mumbled, full of resent.
Chapter Sixteen
I kept my face low, not looking up until after I heard the front door click shut. Dermot was across the table from me smiling.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me,” I mumbled.
“LIkewise,” he chuckled. “Guinness?”
It was only one o’clock, hardly the hour to start drinking, but I felt miserable. As if sensing my mood, rain started sheeting down outside. “Why not?” I shrugged.
We made our way into the living room, which looked much cleaner now that the paperwork was all put into a nice, neat pile. I recognized the Mobius letterhead on the top, but I didn’t snoop. After a minute or so of awkward silence Dermot jumped up.
“Chess?” he asked.
“I haven’t played chess since I was a little kid,” I replied. “I’ll lose.”
“Don’t be daft! Besides, tis’ pissin’! Do you have a better idea?”
He had me there. “Fine, let’s do this.” I said, defeated.
The chess set he pulled out was exquisite. Each piece looked hand carved out of stone, and they were heavy. The board was a dark wood, inlaid with mother-of-pearl for the white squares.
I made the first move, and Dermot responded so quickly I was stunned. The next two moves were similar; the second I let go of my piece Dermot had already moved his.
“Stop that!” I said.
“What?”
“Can you at least pretend to think about your moves?”
He laughed, and nodded. When it was next his turn, he furrowed his brow as if in deep concentration.
“Now you’re just mocking me!”
“Me? Never!” he made his best innocent face, and I hucked a pillow at him, inadvertently toppling the chess board in the process.
He dodged the pillow with ease, adding “Guess I win!”
“You were going to win either way,” I said, finishing off my beer. I couldn’t believe how fast I drank it; normally I hated beer.
“Let me git you a refill,” he chimed, taking my empty glass.
“Before I have anymore, I’m going to go get changed, okay?”
“No problem. Just let me know if you plan on ‘idin’ in the closet,” he snickered.
“I wasn’t hiding!” My protests went unheard, as Dermot was already in the kitchen, whistling away. It appeared I was never going to live down the closet incident. Back in the room, I saw my suitcase was still in the state I had left it. I didn’t want to unpack it because it would make me feel like I was planning on staying, which I wasn’t, so I rummaged through the neatly folded clothes until I found a comfy blue t-shirt. My jeans were still on the floor from the previous night, right where I left them.
Once I was dressed and had run a brush through my knots of hair, I surveyed the room. The stripped bed made the room look untidy, so I decided to make it, to remove any reminders of my awkward sleep habits. It took a bit of time, considering the sheer size of the mattress, and I had to walk around the bed several times to fix the fitted corners, which seemed to pop off whenever I tugged slightly on the sheet. After a few minutes of fussing, I heard a slight rap. Dermot was in the doorway with two pints and a raised eyebrow. How long had he been watching me struggle?
“Need a ‘and?” he asked, setting the two drinks down on the nightstand. I nodded, and with his help we made the bed quickly. The room still felt dark though, so I pulled back the heavy curtains. It had stopped raining, and the ground sparkled with wet. The trees blew gently in the wind, shaking droplets off their branches. It looked so serene. I felt a nudge on my arm as Dermot passed me my drink.
“Bonny, isn’t it?”
“It’s gorgeous,” I replied, then sighed. “I miss the outdoors.”
“You know, I’m sure we could go for a wee wander.”
“Won’t you get in trouble? Shouldn’t I be indoors where no one can see me?”
“It’ll be fine. We won’t stay out long. Besides, I think it’s gonna start pissin’ again soon.”
I was excited about this plan, and I drank my beer far too fast in my eagerness to get outside. Dermot took my empty glass from me and told me to meet him downstairs. My shoes were easy to find, as they were set neatly on the floor near the door. As I rummaged through my suitcase, I couldn’t find any sweaters though. Surely whoever packed this recognized it was winter? I bet that they planned on my staying indoors so they figured I would be comfortable without one. I finally gave up, figuring I’d get Dermot to lend me a jacket or something, and headed back down the stairs.
I didn’t even need to ask him. As I passed the front door I saw several jackets hanging on pegs. I grabbed a grey hoodie, throwing it over my head as I made my way to the kitchen. It took some struggling and a bit of rib-pinching, but I was able to get it on without help. When I entered the kitchen, Dermot was carefully funneling more Guinness into plastic water bottles.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Ha! I never joke when it comes to the black stuff!” He handed me my “water bottle” and we went out the back door.
The air was crisp, and I inhaled deeply. There wasn’t much snow left, only a few small piles here and there. With my new sight I could see every grain in the bark, every rain drop on the branches, and every dust mote reflecting in the sunlight. It was incredible.
We followed a worn path which wound through the trees, though we never lost sight of the house. After about ten minutes of idly chatting, and two-thirds of my Guinness later, I was feeling a little tipsy. My conversation became much more animated, and I stumbled a few times. Dermot seemed to find this hilarious, which I found frustrating.
“What’s your deal?” I asked, after his latest outburst of chuckles when I tripped again, apparently on nothing.
He stopped laughing, but kept a wide grin. “What do you mean?”
I knew I was being rude, but I figured I could blame the beer at this point
. “You! Why are you here? How’d you get conned into babysitting me? And where do you sleep anyway? Are you and Connor…? And what’s with the ridiculous outfit? I get it, you’re Irish. Even without the costume your voice gives you away.” I was ranting now, but his continued smile only made me want to keep asking questions. I forced myself to stop.
“You done?”
I nodded, feeling sheepish. He only laughed, but it sounded different than his usual laughter. This was more of a boyish giggle, and it made him seem younger.
“So many questions!” he said, throwing his hands up in the air as he continued. “Where to begin? Well, for one, I wasn’t conned into babysittin’ you. I’m doin’ this fer Connor. We ‘ave a bit of an arrangement. I owe ‘im. Second, I sleep ‘ere.” He gestured to a large cedar. “And sometimes ‘ere.” He pointed to another, slightly larger tree. “And as for the, what did you call it? The costume? Well, I can ‘onestly say no one ‘as ever asked, but then again, I don’t often find myself in the company of people who would find it unusual. Actually I’m gobsmacked you ‘aven’t figured it out yet. I’m fair disappointed.” He smiled, indicating he found this funny.
“All I know is that you look like a leprec-” He cut me off, shooting me toothy grin. “You are a leprechaun?” Why was I surprised at this point?
“You got that right!”
“But you’re so… so tall! Aren’t leprechauns supposed to be short?”
“That’s a common misconception.”
“Aren’t you worried someone will catch you? Don’t you have to grant three wishes or something? Or give up a pot of gold?” Was I seriously entertaining the idea that the man walking beside me was a leprechaun?
“There’s the rub. ‘Til I repay me debt to Connor, I’m useless to anyone else.”
We had reached the end of the path, and were facing the beach. It was littered with giant pieces bleached driftwood, and we sat on the one closest to the path. I had been aware of small force lines while were walked, but now that we were at the beach I could see them everywhere; more powerful than any I had seen along the path. I tried to focus on Dermot, not wanting to be rude.
Force (An Alex Warren Novel) Page 13
