“I can imagine. He told me you had a grease fire get out of control. He was afraid you’d be too rattled to drive.”
“I’m fine.” Hopefully that was all Logan told her. Trent could always count on his best friend to cover for his weaknesses. And vice versa. Of course, Allison knew everything about Logan and his OCD now, but she didn’t need to know about Trent’s problems.
He followed her into the living room and plopped onto the sofa. He reached for the remote and was about to turn on the television, but thought better of it. This was Allison’s house too, and he needed to show some manners. “Mind if I turn on the TV? I need to veg for a while.”
“Go for it.” She smiled and padded across the thick carpet toward a large, wooden cabinet. She opened the door and scooped a stack of CD cases off the shelf, placing them into a cardboard box.
“Does Logan know you’re messing with his favorite form of therapy?”
“He asked me to pack them up for him. We’re working on some coping mechanisms that are more beneficial than reorganizing CDs.”
“Is it helping?”
She put more discs in the box. “It’s starting to. The medication has made a big difference too.”
He toyed with the remote in his hand and watched her empty the cabinet. Logan’s own empathic abilities were making his OCD rage out of control before he met Allison. “I’m glad he found you. You’re good for him.”
She closed the box. “He’s good for me too. What did Tina say when you told her about the fire?”
His pulse quickened at the mention of her name, but calling her hadn’t even crossed his mind. He’d needed a friend he could depend on, and with Tina…he wasn’t sure how she felt. “Why would I tell her about it?”
Allison shrugged. “Because you two are talking again. She’d probably want to know.”
Would she? “I don’t know if I’d say we’re talking again. Communicating with words, maybe.”
She grinned. “Words. Lips. Tongues.”
His stomach sank. How much did Allison already know? “Shit. She told you about that?”
“She tells me everything.”
Of course she did. The women had been best friends since high school. Allison was engaged to his best friend. She was psychic. She probably knew way more about Trent and his non-relationship with Tina than he did himself. “What’s her deal?”
“What do you mean?”
He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “Why’d she kiss me?”
“Why’d you kiss her back?”
“Why’d she take the job after she dumped me?”
“Why did you offer it to her?”
“Damn it, woman. I don’t know.” He crossed his arms and let his head fall back on the couch.
Allison laughed. “Like I told Tina, we’re not in high school anymore and I’m not being the go-between. If you want to know how she feels about you, ask her.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face and lifted his head from the cushion. Ask her. And then what? She already apologized for kissing him, so she obviously thought it was a mistake. And if she regretted doing it, then she must not have the same feelings for him as he did for her.
“Honestly, I have no idea why I called her. I felt compelled to. I knew it was a bad idea, even as I dialed her number, but it was almost like a voice inside my head told me to do it.”
She scooped the box into her arms and rose to her feet. “Maybe it was your subconscious.”
“I’ve got a masochistic subconscious then.”
“Or maybe it’s meant to be.”
He laughed. “I doubt it. It’s not like—”
The front door swung open, and Logan stormed in, slamming it behind him. “Damn it, man, I told you not to drive.”
Allison raised her eyebrows and carried the box to the next room.
Logan dropped into the chair adjacent to the couch. “It’s not safe.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I made it here in one piece.”
“You nearly burned your house down. You shouldn’t be driving in your condition.”
“Your condition?” Allison returned to the living room and perched on the arm of Logan’s chair. “I thought you had a grease fire.”
“I did.” He flashed Logan a warning look. “And now I’m fine.”
His friend let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re not fine. That’s what, the third time it’s happened in as many days? Why don’t you let Allison help you?”
“No.” The last thing he needed was to have the women worrying about him.
“Help him with what?” She cut her gaze between Logan and Trent.
“Dude.” He shook his head at Logan, pleading with his eyes.
“I’m going to tell her.”
“Don’t.”
“Trent’s got narcolepsy.”
“Fuck.” Betrayed by his best friend. He put his hand over his eyes and leaned back on the couch. “Thanks a lot, man.”
The cushion next to him compressed, and he opened his eyes to find Allison sitting next to him.
She patted his knee and gave him a sympathetic look. “I would love to help you, Trent. I’ve never worked on anyone with your condition before, but Reiki healing is good for everything. Will you let me help you?”
“Might as well, since the cat’s out of the bag anyway.” He glared at Logan, who smiled back smugly.
“Can you help me understand what happens to you?” Allison said. “You fell asleep while you were cooking?”
“Not this time. It was cataplexy.”
“What’s that?”
He glanced at Logan. Damn it, he didn’t want to get into this with her. With anyone. He had enough stress in his life without having to deal with people worrying about him all the time. Thinking he was weak. He had his condition under control before. He could do it again.
“It’s temporary paralysis. I lose control of my muscles for a few minutes, but I’m fully awake. Just can’t move. It’s not that big of a deal. It always goes away on its own.”
She grimaced. “Except that your house almost burned down.”
“But it didn’t.”
Logan shifted in his seat. “That hasn’t happened in years. Were you drinking again?”
“No.”
He rubbed a hand across the scruff on his chin. “What do you think triggered it?”
Trent leaned his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. “I was thinking.”
“Doesn’t it have to be some intense emotions for thinking to trigger an attack like that?”
“Usually.” He lifted his head and tried to give his friend another warning look. Not that the first few helped him.
“What were you thinking about, man?”
Fuck. It was bad enough Logan told Allison about his weakness. Now he had to admit what triggered it in front of her too. He picked at some imaginary lint on his pants. “I was thinking about…her.”
Logan grinned. “Her? You mean your smokin’ hot real estate agent?”
Allison elbowed him.
“Hey, that’s his name for her. Not mine.”
She looked at Trent. “That’s okay. She used to call you ‘Logan’s cute lawyer friend.’”
Cute. There was that word again. “I’m a man. I’m not cute.”
“What would you rather her call you?”
“I don’t know. Handsome. Sexy. Hot. Masculine. Anything but cute. Baby penguins are cute.”
Allison laughed. “Logan’s masculine lawyer friend doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
“I can see why she’d call you cute,” Logan said. “You do have those big, brown, puppy-dog eyes.”
Trent narrowed his gaze at his friend. “At least I don’t have dimples.”
Logan crossed his arms. “My woman loves my dimples, don’t you, babe?”
“They’re adorably cute.” Allison pinched his cheek.
Trent groaned. As much as their affectionate display irked him, he was glad to see them
so happy together.
“Anyway,” she said. “You have intense emotions for Tina?”
“Apparently, I do. Please don’t tell her about this. It’s bad enough I have to deal with the damn disease. She’s so strong and confident. I don’t want her knowing about my weakness.”
Allison sighed and shook her head. “You have an illness, not a weakness.”
“The illness means I’m weak.”
“Or it means you’re strong. Battling day by day to lead a normal life.” She cast a loving gaze at Logan and reached for his hand. “And look how successful you are in spite of it all.”
Trent chuckled. “I’m a fucking superhero.”
“Well, boys.” Allison rose to her feet. “It’s late, and I’m tired. Why don’t we all go to sleep, and I’ll give you a treatment first thing in the morning, Trent. I don’t have to be downtown until the afternoon.”
He looked at Logan. “I assume you made the deal tonight?”
His friend nodded. “You assume correctly.”
“I’ll draw up the contracts in the morning then. Maybe we can try the treatment in the evening? I need to get caught up at work. This damn house has been such a time suck.”
Logan stood and wrapped his arms around his fiancée. “You don’t have to do anything tomorrow. You’re taking the week off.”
“The hell I am. Someone has to keep your company running.”
“I’ve got other lawyers on staff. We’ll be fine without you for a while. Take a week off. Slow down and take care of yourself. Take care of the house. Maybe the stress of your new inheritance is what brought your symptoms to the surface. It all started around the same time your uncle died, didn’t it?”
“I guess it did, but I don’t need to slow down. You know I don’t like leaving things undone.”
“Everyone needs to slow down once in a while, man. Even you.”
Maybe Logan was right. He could get the house off his hands quicker if he took a few days off work. Hopefully the new medication could get his condition under control within the week so he didn’t wind up falling asleep at the office. “Thanks, man. And I’ll look into an extended-stay hotel tomorrow so I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
Allison shook her head. “Nonsense, Trent. This house is huge. You’ll stay here until your place is repaired.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not intruding. It’ll be easier for me to schedule your treatments if you’re living here anyway. Please stay. We insist.”
He looked at Logan. “You cool with that, man?”
“How many times have I crashed at your place?”
“True.”
“Pick a bedroom.”
“Thanks.” Trent grabbed his bag and followed his friends up the stairs. He picked a guest room with a slate-gray duvet and beige walls with an en suite bathroom. He considered showering before climbing into bed, but with all the excitement of the day, he’d probably pass out in the tub. Instead, he stripped down to his boxer-briefs and crawled under the covers.
A break would help him get his life back under control. If he spent a day resting, catching up on some much-needed sleep, maybe he’d be able to stay conscious for an entire day.
* * *
Tina tossed and turned most of the night, barely slipping under the surface of sleep, only to be pulled back up to consciousness. When she finally settled into a solid slumber, she found the shadow monster waiting for her in the third-floor room. She hesitated in the hallway. Was this even the same house? Ornate, nineteenth century furnishings replaced the dusty, morbid-looking belongings of Trent’s Uncle Jack. A plush, green runner lined the floor, and the scent of freshly-baked bread wafted up from below.
She stepped toward the room, but Trent darted through the door. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her toward the stairs. “He’s coming. Run!”
“Who’s coming?”
“You know who.” He dragged her down the steps and into the living room. “He has them all.”
“Who?”
Trent took both her hands and stared hard into her eyes. “You started this, my love. You can stop it.”
She took a step back and nearly tripped over an antique chair. “Your love? What the…?”
“He’s coming.” Trent shot out the front door as the inky shadow rolled down the steps.
Tina froze, her heart beating a frantic rhythm, her feet glued to the floor. The shadow seemed to bubble and fold, turning from thick fog to molten liquid as it slid across the floor and poured out the door after Trent.
Then he screamed.
She shot up in bed, the sheets in a tangled mess around her legs. The dryness in her mouth felt like she’d swallowed a desert, and she fought to catch her breath. What the hell kind of dream was that? She wiped the matted hair off her sweaty forehead and kicked the covers off the end of the bed. Bleary-eyed, she blinked at her alarm clock until it came into focus. The little red numbers on the face read five a.m.
At least no dismembered ghosts waited at her bedside when she woke, but going back to sleep was out of the question.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched. There was no way she’d really seen a ghost in her room. It sounded ridiculous. Even to her. She didn’t have a psychic bone in her body. All this crazy crap was in her head. The dreams. The paranoid feeling she got every time she went into that third-floor room. She was stressed, and now her dreams were turning into nightmares about Trent and the stupid house. That’s all there was to it, and the sooner she could get the damn thing on the market, the sooner she could go back to life as she knew it.
Though she wasn’t sure life as she knew it was what she wanted to go back to.
CHAPTER NINE
Tina leaned against the hood of her Mustang and sipped a latte from a paper cup.
The contractor put the finishing touches on Trent’s new front porch and approached her with a clipboard. “We can get started on the exterior paint tomorrow morning if you’ll sign off on the color.”
She chewed her bottom lip and stared at the order form. She shouldn’t have been making this decision without Trent, but he hadn’t returned any of her calls today. And if they didn’t start the work tomorrow, the contractor would move on to a different job and not be available again for another two weeks. Plus, Trent seemed to be in such a rush to get it done.
She took the pen he offered and signed the paper. “Let’s go with the same blue as the original.” It was a deep, gorgeous color, and with the white gingerbread trim to accent it, the house would be the most beautiful one on the street. Besides, getting it back to its original state seemed like the right thing to do. Trent would trust her decision. It wasn’t like he was going to live in the house. He just wanted it sold.
The contractor took the clipboard and nodded. “We’ll be back at six a.m. tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
As the workers packed up their gear, Tina went around to the back door and entered through the kitchen. She’d called the movers to come out tomorrow to put all the Dracula furniture in storage. A deep cleaning, a quick coat of paint on the interior walls, and some staging furniture, and this place would be good to go.
She crinkled her nose at the thin layer of grime on the kitchen cabinets. It would be good to go as long as Trent had hired a cleaning service before he went into hiding.
She’d left him three messages before Allison finally called her and told her he was sick. Why the hell couldn’t he tell her that himself?
“I don’t know. Logan asked me to call you,” Allison had said when she’d asked.
He’d better have really been sick and not just hiding from her after the kiss. Why on Earth had she done that? She wouldn’t make that mistake again. His arms felt too damn good wrapped around her.
She shook her head to chase away the thoughts and padded into the living room. Everything here could probably go to the dumpster, but she’d have it all moved to storage for Trent to go throug
h later if he wanted. He seemed to take a liking to that strange-looking coat rack, so she definitely didn’t want to throw that out. She stepped toward it and ran her hand down the stem. The dark wood felt cool and smooth against her skin. Though heavy, old-fashioned designs weren’t usually her style, this piece was starting to grow on her.
Truth be told, in the short amount of time she’d spent with Trent recently, he was starting to grow on her too. Fear of commitment had kept her from missing him over the three months since she dumped him. Now that they were talking again, though, she hated to admit it, but she was bummed she didn’t get to see him today. And she was more than a little disappointed he didn’t call her himself to tell her he wasn’t coming.
She rubbed her forehead and let out a sigh. What was she doing? Feelings like this were exactly why she broke it off with him in the first place. Men were glorious creatures who definitely had their uses, but they were meant to be enjoyed, not to get all sappy about when they weren’t around. She’d seen her mom cry into a bottle over a man way too many times, and she was not going there. Not with Trent. Not with anyone. She was who she was. Being in a relationship meant she had to change herself for the other person, and that wasn’t a sacrifice she was willing to make. She’d rather spend the rest of her life alone than have to change.
Besides, she wouldn’t always be alone. One day, she’d adopt a little girl and raise her to be just as fierce and independent as she was. She didn’t need a man to be a mom, and she certainly didn’t need Trent.
But she still missed him.
“Ugh.” She turned toward the stairs. It was that damn dream that was doing it to her. Why did Trent have to call her his love? And what was up with the shadow monster going after him now? It had to be a warning from her self-conscious to stay away. If she pursued him, one of them would get hurt. That’s what the shadow was about. The darkness that would consume her soul if she lost herself to a man.
Stop being so dramatic.
Maybe if she stayed away from the third floor, she’d have better dreams tonight. Or maybe she should go up there and prove to herself it was all her imagination. She put her foot on the first step but hesitated. If she got locked inside again, Trent wasn’t here to rescue her. She chewed her bottom lip and gazed up the stairway. No need to tempt fate today. Better to stay on the first floor since she was alone.
To Stop a Shadow (Spirit Chasers Book 2) Page 7
