“It was nothing.”
“No, really, thank you,” I repeated meaningfully.
He gave a lazy smile. “It was my pleasure, Jemma.”
My name had never sounded so appealing.
“To be truthful,” he baited, his voice lower now. “I’m happy to have finally had the opportunity to meet you.”
My eyebrows pulled together.
“You must know you’re not particularly an easy person to get next to, Jemma.”
I laughed outright. The idea that somebody that looked like him was having a hard time approaching somebody like me was downright amusing. “Yeah. Right.”
His eyes flared briefly, drawing attention to the thin scar that sliced through his right eyebrow. I wanted to reach out and touch it, comb my finger over it, know its story and burn it into my mind. But I fought back the urge.
“So, um, what can I get for you tonight?” I asked him, reigning myself in. “Anything you want. It’s on me.”
“Anything?” he challenged. His eyes darkened into the kind of stare I was always taught to be weary of. It made my legs want to run away and buckle all at the same time.
“Yes.” The word sailed out way too easily. “No! I mean, yes, anything on the menu,” I corrected, sans grace. “But if you want something from the bar, I’ll have to call another waitress.”
His lips pressed into a line. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Something to eat then?”
His mouth turned up again. “Later. Perhaps.” His expression was amused, almost mocking.
Did I miss something? Was he laughing at me?
“Your bodyguard is watching,” he said unexpectedly.
“My what?” I asked, and then followed his gaze over my right shoulder to Trace who was standing across the way from us looking wholly irritated. And of course, the never-too-far-away Nikki was right there beside him, watching him as he watched me. The whole thing made me want to hurl.
I turned back to Dominic who cocked his head, unaffected.
“If you’re not going to order anything, I have to get back to work,” I explained. “I don’t want to get fired.” And by the look on Trace’s face, it was a definite possibility.
“I understand,” he said, rising from his seat.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?”
He didn’t answer, though he took a step towards me, and then sort of around me, brushing against me as he moved. I shadowed his turn as if I had been tied to him with a string.
“What time do you finish?” he asked, leaning into me in a way that jumbled all the thoughts in my mind.
“I-I—” I couldn’t speak. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Two thirty. I finish at two thirty.”
He offered another smile—a delicious crooked grin that made the water pool inside my mouth—and then he walked away, leaving me standing in a puddle of my own drool.
It took me a minute to get myself together, to reel in the racing thoughts…like why he wanted to know what time I finished work at? Was he planning on meeting me? Was I supposed to wait for him? I had no idea what just happened, but I could feel my heart racing at the thought of seeing him again.
And why wouldn’t I? He was gorgeous, and he definitely seemed interested in me. And after everything that happened to me this year, it felt like a damn good idea.
I took a deep breath and collected myself as best as I could. When I circled back around, I found Trace and Nikki—and now Taylor and the rest of the gang—staring at me in a sea of unhinged mouths and wide eyes.
There was no way I was walking into that pack of wolves. I turned on the balls of my feet and headed straight for the back-house where I would spend the rest of my shift counting down the minutes until closing time.
I managed to avoid Nikki, Trace, and even Taylor for most of the night, keeping them at bay by way of my increasingly convenient job. Everything was going well on that front until closing time reared its highly anticipated head. As soon as the place began to dwindle in bodies (and hiding places), it was clear my run had come to an end, no more so than when I came face to face with Taylor in the kitchen.
“Ok. Spill it,” she said, cornering me at the sink as I brought in another load of dishes.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Dominic Huntington!” she shrieked, alerting everyone within a ten mile radius about our impending conversation.
I spun around to quiet her, pumping the air brakes. “There’s nothing to say,” I said, dousing her fire. “He helped me with a rude customer and I thanked him.” I grabbed my bin and returned to the main hall, Taylor right in tow.
“Come on, what else?” she probed. “I know there’s more.”
“There isn’t,” I insisted as I picked up a litter of glasses from one of the party tables, though the truth was, I wasn’t even sure of it myself. I definitely felt something. And he definitely asked about my work schedule, but what that meant—if anything—I had no idea.
“God, the way he was looking at you,” she said as she leaned back against the table, her eyes sailing through the cosmos. “I wish you could have seen it from where I was standing.”
“What do you mean?” I immediately halted, eating up every word by the spoonful. “How did it look?”
“Like he wanted to devour you,” she giggled.
“Shut up,” I said, though my face was screaming, tell me everything!
“So I guess you don’t want to know about how he was eying you all night, or how he practically flew across the room when that guy grabbed you,” she teased.
I rolled my eyes. I could hardly believe it.
“I swear,” she said, noting my expression and then continued through laughter. “I’ve never seen anyone so eager to start a fight with a stranger!”
I laughed too but sobered quickly, remembering my fear. “Thank God he was here. That creep scared the hell out of me.”
“Taylor,” called Trace just then. “We’re locking up.”
“How are you getting home?” she asked me. “I’m riding with Hannah but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind giving you a lift.”
I shook my head. “It’s cool. I have a ride.” I think.
“Kay,” she smiled big. “I’m out then. Call me tomorrow!”
I nodded that I would and watched her strut away, passing Trace on her way to the door. I moved to another table and had time to clear a few more glasses before he was by my side.
“Think you’ll be back tomorrow?” he asked as he placed the chairs on top of the table I’d just wiped down.
“Bright and early…unless my uncle has a change of heart and decides that mooching off of him is a totally acceptable alternative.”
“Great,” he said, sort of under his breath.
“Is it?” I had to ask. He’d made it obvious that he didn’t want me taking this job, or hanging around here for that matter. “I mean, is this going to be a problem?”
Maybe putting him on the spot like this might actually yield a straight response.
“You can probably head out now,” he said without looking up as he lifted two more chairs. “They got this,” he gestured to April, Zane, and Sawyer across the way. The other waitress, Paula Dawson, was already packing up her things.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”
He shook his head and picked up the bucket of dishes from my table. “It’s covered.”
I shrugged, “Nice.” No sense in arguing there, I thought, and started moving before he changed his mind.
I felt him latch onto my arm as I passed him. My skin hummed in response to his touch.
“Do you have a ride?” he asked, holding me to his side as he peered down at me though his stirring eyes; deep soulful eyes that made me long to know the history behind them.
I nodded, struggling not to lose myself in the pools of liquid blue. “It’s covered.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t let go of my arm, or my gaze.
“Is
that it?” I raised my eyebrow at him. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand the heat without liquefying.
He looked down at his own hand still wrapped around my arm and quickly released it. “Yeah. That’s it.”
I felt a surge of vindication the moment I left All Saints and realized that Nikki was still outside with Morgan, probably waiting on Trace to finish work. This could have easily turned into a really ugly situation had I walked out of here with him. It was fast becoming obvious that the more I avoided Trace, the better off I would be. I just wasn’t sure avoiding him was something I could actually do, or something I wanted to do, and I wasn’t sure which one scared me more.
I searched the street for Dominic, not entirely sure if we had actually agreed to meet or not, and secretly found myself wishing that I would see him again tonight. That I could escape my own prison and delay the inevitable grief I always felt when I was by myself at night—even if only for a little while.
Sadly, it seemed my hopes had been dashed upon completing a thorough scan of the area and coming up empty of any impeccably handsome, luminary blonds. I pulled out my cell phone and crossed the street, heading down towards the main Boulevard as I keyed in the cab company’s telephone number.
“Who are you calling?” asked a honeyed voice from above.
My heart jumped out of its cage as I looked up and saw Dominic walking on the cement ledge beside me. His black overcoat catching air as he walked the plank with feline precision.
My hand rushed up to tame my heart. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” he said unceremoniously and leapt off the ledge. “You’re early.”
I flooded my sight with his profile as he continued to pace beside me. “They let me off early,” I said, glancing over his shoulder at the unfamiliar grounds. “What were you doing?” I asked, straining my neck as I tried to see what was up there.
“It’s a park,” he leaned in and whispered, answering my query as though he could hear my thought. “I was taking a walk.”
“At night?”
“Yes, at night. Don’t you like the night, angel?”
“No, not really.”
“Why not?”
One too many close encounters with the undead. Of course, there was no way I was opening that first-class ticket back to the nut house. “It’s a long story.”
“I have plenty of time,” he said without looking.
“Well, maybe not a long story. More like an embarrassing one,” I said and waived my hand dismissively, trying to seem detached and casual about it. “I’m just a little scared of the dark, that’s all.”
“Is that so?” He seemed amused by this.
“Yes, and I don’t find it very funny. I mean, it’s not like I sleep with a night light or anything, but I definitely try to avoid it if I can.” And for the record, I wasn’t opposed to a night light.
“Tell me, Jemma, what is it that you think is hiding out there in the dark?”
This was getting a little too close for comfort. “I don’t know, the usual I guess…goblins and monsters and ghosts, oh my.” I tried to laugh it out but it came out fake and pitchy.
His lips threatened a smile. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that tonight. Not while you’re with me.”
“Is that right?” I said with a hint of ridicule. “Are you going to protect me from all the big, bad monsters?”
“Angel, I am the big, bad monster,” he said grimly as he crossed his hands behind his back.
A cold chill traveled down my spine as I waited for a smirk or a wink, but neither came. I swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how little I actually knew about Dominic. This man, as attractive as he was, could very well be some deranged serial killer just out on a midnight stroll, preying on his next victim. I mean, who takes walks at night anyway?
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as the scenarios played out in my mind.
“Relax, Jemma,” he said with a playful smirk on his lips. “You’re making it far too easy for me.”
Exhale.
I laughed nervously, trying to play it cool while feeling ten shades of ridiculous for allowing him to get the better of my fears so easily. Though who could blame me? After everything I’ve seen, there was just no telling anymore.
I forced a smile.
“Tell me about yourself, Jemma.”
I shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”
“Where are you from?”
“Lots of places,” I said and then shrugged. “The last place I lived was Florida, but we moved around a lot before then so I guess I’m kind of a nomad. Wait—how did you know I wasn’t from around here?” Hollow Hills wasn’t a metropolis by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn’t that small.
“Word travels quick in these parts.”
“Duly noted.”
“Do you have any siblings?” he asked. If he was curious, his tone wasn’t letting on.
“A sister.”
“Older.”
I nodded. “How did you know?”
He glanced down at me. “Lucky guess. And your parents?”
I could feel that suppressed sorrow thickening in the back of my throat as the memories flooded in.
“I don’t remember my mother, but I was very close with my father before he died. It was unexpected—a heart attack,” I lied, fumbling with my fingers as I relived the guilt of having to leave him behind. It was easier to tell that lie than the one listed on his autopsy report. “It’s just me and my uncle now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, bowing his head slightly.
“Thank you.”
He crossed his hands behind his back again. “Your sister, she doesn’t live with you and your uncle?”
I shook my head. “She moves around a lot.”
“What sort of places?”
“All over really. Chicago, Portland, Toronto…she’s even been to Dublin and she’s not even Twenty-one yet.”
“Impressive.”
“I think so,” I smiled proudly. I couldn’t wait to graduate high school and hightail it into the world just like she did.
“Does she visit you often?”
“She tries to, but you know how it is.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
I thought back to the last time I’d seen my sister, when she came to visit me in the hospital and told me that I needed to start playing nice with the doctors if I ever wanted to get out of that place. Of course, I would be keeping that part to myself, for obvious reasons.
“It’s been...a while. A few months.”
He nodded without looking. “So that leaves you on your own.”
“Yup. Just me and my uncle.” Ugh, I said that part already.
“How about a boyfriend?” he asked.
I smiled, seeing an opening. “Thanks, but you’re not my type,” I quipped. I couldn’t help myself.
Dead air. He wasn’t even smiling.
My cheeks ignited. “I’m just kidding,” I rushed to clarify. “It was a joke. I knew you weren’t offering to be my boyfriend.”
It seemed like a funny thing to say in the moment. He probably thinks I’m some high school twit now. Damn me for not having a better mouth filter on this thing.
“I knew it was a joke,” he smiled lazily, and then craned his head in closer to me. “I’m just not sure I liked the part about not being your type.”
“Oh.” Ohhhh. Butterflies began waltzing in my belly as my lips moved again. “Well, that part was a joke, too.” The words just sort of spilled out on their own.
He was grinning now, and God was he hot.
“W-what about you?” I stammered, feeling flustered and desperate to redirect the conversation. “What’s your story? Do you have family here? A girlfriend?” I applauded myself silently for slipping that in.
“No family here. No girlfriend.”
“Well, don’t tell me everything all at once,” I scoffed at his nondisclosure.
He s
miled crookedly. “If you want to know something, you’ll have to be more specific in your asking.”
“Okay.” I already had a question ready. “How old are you?”
His lips curled up. “Probably too old for you.”
Probably. At least it wasn’t a definitely.
“Your answers are still pretty vague,” I noted.
“I never said they wouldn’t be.”
His eyes gleamed under the moonlight like two magnificent onyx stones—dark, mysterious, and beckoning. I looked away, afraid of what they were stirring up inside me.
“Everything okay?” he asked coyly. He seemed to be laughing at me again, like he knew he was having an effect on me.
“Yeah. Totally.” I looked back up at my surroundings, suddenly noticing we had already reached the main boulevard and were about to take a turn down an unfamiliar road, though in all fairness, most of the roads were still unfamiliar to me at this point. “Are we walking all the way?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?” he asked, evaluating my face.
Well, let’s see. Essentially, the Blackburn estate sat atop the undulating rises of Hollow Hills, overlooking much of the town below. It was a long way up the winding roads, especially on foot, and left us exposed and at the mercy of a wide number of possibilities (night-walking possibilities) so yes, it was definitely a problem for me.
Of course, I couldn’t very well say that to him.
“Well, there’s a lot of road to cover. I’m afraid my feet won’t make it,” I said instead, sounding incredibly lazy.
“It isn’t very far if we take that short cut,” he pointed. “We can go straight up through the wooded park and then cut through the cemetery—avoid all those side roads.”
“The cemetery?” I stopped walking.
“Yes,” he said, stopping with me. “Are you uncomfortable with cemeteries?”
“Um, yeah. Only entirely.”
He examined me for a moment, grinning. “Because of the goblins and monsters, I presume?”
“No, actually. Because of the dead people.”
He laughed as though I’d said something funny. “A taxi it is then,” he winked and pulled out a cell phone from the inside of his overcoat pocket.
And not a moment too soon.
Inception (The Marked Book 1) Page 6
