by Moxie North
Chapter 8
Faye was dying. At least that’s what it felt like. She’d fallen asleep Wednesday night and didn’t wake up until the morning. She helped Mrs. Minkle get ready for the church volunteer to pick her up for Thanksgiving dinner. She’d invited Faye, but Faye had told her that she wasn’t feeling up to it.
It was the truth, not just an excuse to not have to make polite conversation with strangers for a few hours. She’d gone back to bed and managed to sleep for a few hours before waking up and making some soup. After drinking a mug, she laid on her futon and attempted to watch her movies.
Her body hurt and she felt woozy. She figured she was just feeling melancholy and it was manifesting itself in a pseudo-illness.
On Friday she dragged herself to the shelter and managed to clean up after the animals before finding her favorite bulldog Cornelius. She pulled the tubby canine into her lap as she leaned against the wall in his cage. She must have fallen asleep because both she and Cornelius jerked awake when the door that led into the kennel room slammed.
“Faye?”
Coughing to clear her throat, Faye cracked open an eye. Light flashed behind her lids as pain laced over her brain.
“Here,” she croaked.
Giving Cornelius another hug and scratch, she hefted him onto his bed. “I’ll be back soon,” she told him.
Faye got to her knees, hunching over like a little old lady. Sitting on the cement floor had been a terrible idea. She hurt so badly.
Locking the chain-link gate behind her, she gave Cornelius a wistful glance. She would bring him home if she could. He was a great dog, but her apartment didn’t allow them. She needed her job and that job would help her complete her schooling, which would in the end allow her to move to somewhere she could have a pet.
Walking down the line of kennels she saw the volunteer coordinator, Isaac, standing with the door propped open.
“You look awful!”
Faye could barely muster a sad grin before she started coughing, a wracking sound coming from her chest. “Good, I feel awful. All my chores are done, I was just hanging with my main man for a while.”
“You should head home. I’m here for the night. Take some medicine and get some sleep,” he suggested.
“Excellent plan,” Faye said, giving him a salute.
Every step she took felt like she was going to crumble. After bundling up she walked to the corner and waited for the bus, hunched inside the glass enclosure, avoiding the wind as best she could.
Even though it wasn’t that cold, the gusts of air hurt her skin. She felt hot under her coat, but she was aware that wasn’t a natural feeling. She kept her coughs into her gloved hands to avoid spreading her germs to anyone else.
Climbing on the bus, she took the first seat she found, grateful that there were only a few other riders. Faye didn’t remember getting off the bus, or reaching her apartment. By the time she fell on her bed she was in tears.
The next few days were a blur. She’d feel a little better, manage some tea with honey and a few crackers, and then she’d fall back asleep. By Sunday night she knew without a doubt that there was no way she was going to make it into work on Monday. The very idea had her eyes welling up with tears of despair.
Her manager was very kind and told her to rest up. Faye thought taking one day off would surely help her kick the plague that was percolating through her body. A short shower on Monday had her feeling almost human before her temperature spiked again.
This time she didn’t fight it. She was in bed, her medicine next to her along with the thermometer. If she woke she took her temperature and checked the time. More medicine and crash. On Tuesday when she called in she felt guilty. Her manager told her to get to a doctor. She promised she would, but it was a lie. There was no way she was leaving her bed.
Thayr had great insurance once you reached your deductible. Faye just didn’t have that kind of money lying around, even for an office visit. It was just a bug; she could tough it out and then she’d be immune to whatever it was that was laying waste to her.
Sometime on Tuesday night she’d opened her blurry eyes and tried to read her phone. It was dark out and she wasn’t sure if she’d missed dinner or was early for breakfast. Faye attempted to set an alarm to wake her before work but she must not have clicked it on.
She slept and slept. Never feeling any better, never getting any relief. Occasionally she would cough herself awake and she’d use that opportunity to use the restroom and drink some water. She knew she couldn’t become dehydrated if she was going to get better. Food was no longer an option, which was a good thing because she wasn’t even hungry. Her throat was raw from coughing and her stomach muscles cramped at the idea of eating anything.
When she woke again, she saw there was light outside. The phone was sitting beside her plugged into the charging cable. She should call work. Then again, they must be able to figure out that she wasn’t coming in. It was already past her regular start time. Picking up the phone she saw a couple of missed calls from the office and a voicemail. She’d call, maybe when she felt like her throat wasn’t going to bleed if she talked.
It was the first time she could remember not caring about what happened. Her ability to thoughtfully choose anything was gone. Who cared if she lost her job, lost her apartment, didn’t go to school. She’d already missed her Monday class and it should have bothered her.
Instead, she thought about how long it would take for someone to smell her rotting body in the building. Her neighbors weren’t the most observant individuals. Not to mention that they kept to themselves just as much as she did. It might take a while for anyone to notice she was even gone. Now she was grateful she didn’t have a cat, it would eat her out of desperation.
Faye was so alone, and loneliness wasn’t something she normally let herself feel. Since her grandmother passed away she’d considered herself alone. She didn’t even have anyone to call to tell them she was dying. That was about as alone as you could get.
She realized she was feeling sorry for herself; it was another thing she rarely let herself indulge in. She had no cheering squad, no one pushing her to be or do better. It all had to come from inside. Wednesday morning, buried under a pile of blankets and used tissues, she didn’t have any more fight left.
A tear slipped out of her eye and slid down her fever-flushed cheek. She wanted to sob, but knew it would make her head worse. It was a terrible choice, crying or being in pain. Seriously not fair.
Faye jumped when a forceful knock slammed against her door.
She paused to make sure that she wasn’t just hallucinating, maybe the knock was on someone else’s door.
The knock came again.
“Faye?” A voice called through the door.
It was a man’s voice she didn’t recognize. Her landlord never knocked. She shoved the rent check under his door every month. If something broke she tried to fix it herself so she wouldn’t have to bother him.
The other option was the police. Maybe one of her neighbors died. That sadly seemed a reasonable possibility.
She pulled herself up, peeling the sweaty blankets off and putting her feet on the floor. Just sitting up made her head spin. Luckily, her black t-shirt and black fuzzy pajama bottoms with tiny kitties on them didn’t show the sweat.
Grabbing on to the edge of the bed to steady herself, she made the few steps to the door just as the pounding commenced again.
“Faye? Are you home?”
Who knew her name was a question that came to mind. She looked through her peephole and saw the top of a dark head of hair. The man was looking down and she could see his hands braced against the doorframe.
Nothing registered to her that she could know this person, so she unlatched the door and rested her foot against the bottom as a stop. It occurred to her that in her current state she wouldn’t be able to stop anything from coming through that door. But it was a habit she couldn’t break. As the door creaked open a few inches the ma
n looked up from where he’d been focusing on her welcome mat.
“Faye.”
Faye blinked a few times, her eyes unfocused. She was obviously hallucinating. Maybe that medical bill was worth a trip to the emergency room. She was imagining her handsome boss standing at her door. His black suit topped by a long black wool coat that looked soft, like cashmere. His hands that were gripping the doorframe were encased in black leather gloves.
This had to be a dream because he looked even better than he normally did.
Faye watched his Kindred eyes flash silver at her and she felt her knees buckle. Not from the eyes but from the sheer exhaustion.
“Gideon?” she managed to croak before he took a step and scooped her up into his arms.
“Cover the door,” he said to someone she couldn’t see as he carried her into the apartment and kicked the door closed.
Faye was carried over to her futon and instead of dropping her onto it; he sat down with her in his lap.
Good lord, she was losing her mind.
“You look awful,” he growled.
Faye figured if she was delusional, there was no worry about what she said to her boss’s boss.
“You aren’t the first person to say that!” she said, the long sentence causing her to erupt in a coughing fit.
She heard a growling noise and held back the next cough on a wheeze to bring her shocked eyes up at him.
“Am I dreaming?” she asked him.
“No.”
“But you’re in my apartment.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You didn’t call in today. Your manager said you called the last two days.”
Faye had to think over that for a moment. He was right, although the realization that she’d forgotten to call in seemed like it had been hours ago.
“I was sick,” she explained weakly.
There was no way Gideon was in her apartment. There was no way she was sitting in his lap smelly and gross. Life just wasn’t that cruel.
“You are sick. Where’s your thermometer?”
“Are you serious?” Each word felt like razor blades in her throat.
“Faye, you’re ill and have been for days from what your manager said. Have you been to the doctor?”
“No, I’m not that bad,” she mumbled. She wasn’t about to explain her financial situation to him. Not that her sad little studio apartment didn’t speak volumes. “Can you please put me down?” she asked. Even if she was dreaming, this was all completely undignified. She was wearing cat pajamas, for crying out loud.
Gideon stood and gently set her down on her futon. Faye immediately pulled her feet up so she could wrap her arms around her knees. She felt exposed in front of her hallucination and she didn’t like it.
“Thermometer?” he asked, pulling off his gloves and tucking them into his pocket.
Faye pointed to her side table as she was overcome with a coughing fit. Gideon stalked over to it, his gait fluid and natural. At least to her eyes.
Returning with the thermometer, he pressed the button and pushed back her scraggly hair and inserted it into her ear.
She heard the beep and watched him look at the screen, frown, and try again. The beep happened and he looked again, his face never changing.
The hair he pushed back fell forward again and she realized she had braided it hours, possibly days before. She must look a fright.
“Has it been this high the whole time?”
“Depends what it says,” she answered. Faye was starting to get the feeling this wasn’t a hallucination. But the other option didn’t seem plausible either.
Maybe she had died and this was a weird sort of purgatory. Having to converse with a man you found devastatingly handsome while you looked like a hot mess for eternity.
“It says 103.8. I took it twice.” He looked exasperated, and she was mesmerized by the way his emotions showed on his face. He was all hard lines and smooth skin. Too pretty for a man by far, but he looked perplexed now. It was a new look for him.
“Sounds about right. I just need some more medicine. I can get it down to just over a hundred with the medicine.”
“How many days have you been doing that?”
Faye shrugged, she wasn’t really sure. “A couple?”
There was that low growling sound again coming from him. It was a cross between a growl and a purr and she almost giggled. Giggling was a sure sign of raging fever.
“You need medical attention,” he said, his face very close to hers.
“I know. I’ll go today. The two o’clock bus goes right by the walk-in clinic at the pharmacy.”
“The bus?”
Faye frowned, what was confusing about that? “Yes, the bus, it’s how I get around. I’ll change and go,” she said making a move to push herself off the couch. Just uncurling from her ball made her body hurt.
“You’re coming with me,” Gideon said, standing and leaning over to pick her up again.
“What? No!”
“You need medical attention!”
“I’ll get it. I don’t even know why you’re here. Why are you here?”
“I was worried about you,” he said, looking uncomfortable.
“Why? You don’t even know me.”
“You work for me, that makes you my responsibility,” he said firmly.
“That’s crazy. That’s like saying you have hundreds of children at the company. Do you show up for every employee that calls in sick to work?” Faye said before doubling over in a coughing fit.
“No, I don’t normally interfere,” he admitted.
“Then why me?” she wheezed.
“I was concerned that I had scared you last week.”
Faye wasn’t going to admit he scared her. Her fear was just the utter horror of being in front of a man she was a little obsessed with and more than a little nervous around.
“I wasn’t scared. Well, I was concerned I might lose my job. That was something to be scared of.”
“Why would you lose your job?”
“Because I was in your office. No one ever goes in there. Everyone knows that.”
Gideon looked thoughtful. “I’ve never fired anyone for that. I just don’t like people in my space.”
“You like your privacy, but you show up at my house unannounced when we don’t even know each other?”
“Fine, it’s not typical of my behavior. Let’s leave it that I was worried about our interaction and then you didn’t come in for days. I assumed it was me.”
“It couldn’t be that I was actually sick? You thought this was about you?”
“Faye, you’re making me feel like a dictator.”
Faye shrugged. “You are putting the bossy in boss.”
To her horror she watched a slow smile spread over his face. It made him even more handsome, and at the same time made her think she was back to hallucinating.
It was too much for her. The fever, his smile, the impossibility of the situation all culminated until Gideon’s face started to swirl then she saw black.
Faye came to in Gideon’s arms again. Twice in the matter of a few minutes. If she had friends she’d be texting them the situation to get their opinions. But since she didn’t, she only had herself to deduce what was happening, and her brain was completely untrustworthy right now. She was outside her apartment, wrapped in a blanket. Twisting her head, she saw a sleek black car sitting outside the building. It didn’t fit in with her apartment complex, her neighborhood, or her.
“Where are we going?”
“To get you medical attention. I’m having Tucker lock up your place. You don’t have a goldfish or anything that needs to be fed or watered, do you?”
“No pets, and I’m terrible with plants,” she sighed. She wished she had the strength to shove herself out of his arms. That would be the way to show him she didn’t need his help.
But she did need him; and she hated it. In her apartment she tried to put on a front for him and it to
ok everything out of her. She was bone tired. Every breath hurt. Even blinking hurt. She didn’t have the luxury of refusing his help. Even her boasting of going to the urgent care had been a lie. There was no way she’d be able to stand at the bus stop and make it there in one piece.
“I can walk,” she offered weakly.
“No, you can’t,” he said sharply. “Tucker!”
Faye found herself deposited in another man’s arms as Gideon got in the vehicle. She looked up to see the smooth chin of one of Gideon’s bodyguards. At least that’s what she always thought they looked like. The hulking Kindred drove him everywhere. They had to be bears judging by the size of them.
The man named Tucker kept his chin up and his eyes straight ahead as he held her.
She was being handed around like a sack of potatoes. Before she could protest she was back in Gideon’s arms.
“I can sit,” she mumbled. There was no reason for him to hold her like this.
“You’ll fall over,” he grunted.
The interior of the car was warm, but it felt good, not like the fever that left her exhausted and sweating. Struggling to keep her eyes open, she managed a glance to see Gideon looking back down at her with a frown on his face.
“Sleep,” he ordered.
Faye tried to muster some effort for a retort but she was feeling the edges of her vision fade again. She gave in, tucked her face into the blanket that rested against his chest and let the dark take her.
Dying in the arms of a Kindred like Gideon wasn’t the worst way to go.
Chapter 9
She looked like she was on death’s door, Gideon thought.
