by Bonnie Lamer
The point’s moot now. She’s leaving her bed, and it looks like three quarters of her stuff behind. I take a breath and put myself in her shoes. She’s risking everything to save me and I’m snapping at her like an ungrateful crone. She probably had to work hard to afford the few nice items she has and because of me, it’ll be gone soon.
I open my mouth to apologize for being bitchy but what comes out is, “Did you make little nooses out of my shoe laces?” I hold a foot up and sure enough, the laces of the black converse she’s loaned me are tied into thick black nooses. “Are you going to put little voodoo figures of me and Roman in them?”
She laughs. “Tempting, but no. My dad showed me how to do that when I was young and I’ve been tying my shoes like that ever since.”
“Your dad sounds a little twisted. What an odd family life you must have had.” Her face falls and I immediately regret my words. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sure he was a great guy.”
Standing up, she says, “No, he was a little twisted. That’s what made him such a cool dad.” Looking over to the door leading to the garage where Roman is leaning against the frame, she says, “You can get her in the jeep.” She grabs her backpack and keys from the computer desk that is now empty and stomps out the door.
My eyes close as my face flushes with heat that is not caused by a fever. I wonder how much of our conversation Roman heard. I’m hoping it wasn’t the part about him and me screwing. And my comment about Brielle’s family. I’m not usually so disrespectful and mean. For some reason, it’s important to me that he knows that.
He strides to the bed and holds his hand out. When I place mine in it, he pulls me up and positions himself on my right side with his arm around me so he can help me walk.
“I think I can make it to the garage by myself,” I tell him.
He shrugs. “Why take the risk of you falling and hurting yourself.” We start walking the short distance to the door. A lot of the piles of stuff have been cleared out so it’s an easier walk than earlier. The stuff Brielle isn’t taking with us is strewn along the walls.
I have to know. “What parts of the conversation Brielle and I were having did you hear?”
“Not much,” he says, helping me down the one step leading into the garage. Brielle is already in the driver’s seat of the jeep.
“How much is not much?”
He opens the door and I slide in, surprised I’m not nearly as sore as I was earlier. When I’m situated, he leans into the car and whispers in my ear, “Brielle’s bed is definitely out of the question, but I can think of a lot of other places that wouldn’t be.”
He stands up and closes my door. I can’t even look at him when he slides in from the other side. That makes him chuckle.
Chapter 12 - Spooning
“So what’s the plan?” I ask Brielle, trying to break the sexual tension between me and Roman. If they came up with one, I was asleep while they talked about it.
“Now I blow up the building making it look like we’re all dead,” Brielle says.
That seems a bit extreme. “Really?”
She shakes her head. “No, you moron, I’m not going to blow up the building. You shouldn’t watch so many Bruce Willis movies.”
Okay, this tension isn’t any more fun than the sexual tension is. “Thanks for the tip.” I’ve never even seen a Bruce Willis movie. “Now will you please tell me what we’re going to do?”
I can see in her eyes in the rear view mirror that Brielle wants to make another smart ass comment. But she doesn’t. “I’m going to crank the sine wave signal loud enough to make djinn eyeballs bleed if they’re within a mile of the building and we’re going to get the hell out of here.”
Simplicity at its finest. “What’s going to keep them from coming after us?”
She gives me an incredulous look in the rear view mirror. “Have you ever driven with your eyes bleeding? It’s harder than it sounds.”
My arm is feeling better. I could easily reach around the headrest and strangle her. “What if they contact djinn that aren’t within a mile radius and tell them to come after us.”
“In about five minutes, we’re going to be hard to find,” Roman says.
I finally look at him. “Have you noticed the outside of the jeep? It’s painted in camouflage for god’s sake! Not exactly incognito.”
“Better buckle up back there, we’re heading out,” Brielle says as she’s putting the car in reverse and pressing the button to open the garage door.
Apparently she still doesn’t understand how cutting through traffic without looking can terrify someone who has recently been in a horrific crash. I close my eyes and wait for the side of the car to buckle in towards me when we get t-boned. When I don’t feel an immediate impact, I open one eye a crack. A couple of cars honk at us, but everyone has come to a screeching halt. I’m not sure if it’s all for us, though. I suppose it’s not a common sight to see a couple of bikers on their knees with blood spurting out of their eyes. Huh. I thought she was being facetious about that.
Brielle weaves in and out of the stopped cars and I don’t think the djinn even noticed us. I wouldn’t bet my life on it, though. I hope whatever she and Roman came up with will make us less conspicuous. Maybe she has a spare car stashed somewhere. I know that’s wishful thinking on my part. Considering the quality of the items in her apartment, I seriously doubt she can afford another car.
I expect her to fly through the streets ignoring red lights and stop signs but she’s not. She is obeying every traffic law on the books. It’s making me so tense that I have to keep looking behind us. I’m itching to climb over her seat and take over driving. We’re kind of in a hurry here.
I’m even more frustrated when she pulls into a dead end alley. She pulls to the end and parks the jeep behind a dumpster. Like that’s going to hide us. This doesn’t even work in the movies.
“What the hell are you doing?” I practically scream.
Brielle just grins and gets out of the car. “What is she doing?” I ask Roman. He winks at me and gets out of the car as well.
They’ve both gone mad. Or they’re leaving me behind for the djinn to find. They are not going to get away with that. I fumble with the door handle trying to get out, but the door doesn’t open. Now I’m really starting to panic. I pound on the window.
“Sorry, child lock is on,” Brielle says through the glass. “Just stay in there.”
Child lock? Really? Like I couldn’t slide over the seat and get out Roman’s door. I’m about to bitch her out when she scrapes her nail under my window and peels back the camouflage paint on the jeep. No way. Underneath is glossy black paint. The camouflage is a sticker? I thought things like this only happened in cartoons.
Brielle and Roman continue around the car peeling off the giant stickers. Where do you find stickers like that? When they’re done, Roman balls them up and throws them in a box in the back of the jeep. My mind is still reeling when Brielle reaches into her hair and pulls out some bobby pins. Then she pulls the red hair off her head. Shoulder length brown hair tumbles down. She adds the red wig to the same box Roman put the stickers in.
Brielle is now using an electric screwdriver to change the license plate. Roman opens the other back door and he has a blanket in his hands. “We need to cover up in this,” he says, climbing back into the jeep next to me.
“Are you serious?” I ask. Yes, the Jeep Cherokee is fairly roomy, but Roman’s a pretty big guy. I barely have enough room to lie down myself. Both of us are not going to fit.
Reading my mind, he says, “We’ll make it work.”
“Today? Could you make it work today?” Brielle snaps from the front seat, slamming her door closed. Sure, now she’s in a hurry. I glower at her but she doesn’t care.
After a few minutes of jostling each other around, Roman and I are spooning under the blanket on the seat. I am lying on the edge and he has wrapped his arm around me to keep me from falling to the floor. His mouth is close to my ear
and his hot breath is causing some uncomfortable, but not all bad, reactions within me. The raging erection he now has as he pulls me closer isn’t helping. The name Malik jumps into my mind and a wave of guilt washes over me for reacting to Roman’s touch. I strain to pull away from him but he has a firm grip. “You’re going to fall if you keep that up,” he whispers in my ear. I can hear the humor in his voice. He knows I can feel his erection. You’d think he’d be insulted that I don’t want to be this close to him. Nothing wrong with his self-esteem I guess.
“Hang on,” Brielle says. I hate it when she says that. I brace myself for the worst. She puts the jeep in reverse and we back out of the alley. I’m kind of glad I can’t see what she’s doing. The honking of horns confirms that I don’t want to. At least her bad driving is keeping my claustrophobia under control for the moment.
“You’re shaking,” Roman whispers against my ear.
“Because I’m terrified Brielle’s going to kill us instead of saving us,” I whisper back. “I’m sure you’ve noticed she drives a little recklessly sometimes.”
“Bite me,” Brielle says from the front.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“There’s this safe house up state I’ve heard about. Thought we’d check it out.”
“Safe from what?” Can we really find a house that’s as safe as Brielle’s intense anti-djinn apartment?
“The normal stuff – ghosts, lost cats, and oh yeah, genies.” She makes a tight right turn and Roman holds me tighter so I don’t fall off the seat. Maybe I should shut up and let Brielle focus on driving.
We ride in silence for a while. I give up trying to separate my body from Roman’s and lean back into him. As time goes by, I become more and more impressed by the duration of his hard on. I wonder how long he can last when actually having sex.
That thought sends another rush of guilt through me when Malik’s name pops back into my head. Who is he? And why do I feel so attached to him. Did I know him before my near drowning incident? If that’s the case, why didn’t he try to see me after that. Unless my parents didn’t approve of him. They were pretty good about voicing their opinions regarding the boys I dated. Basically, they hated all of them.
Roman shifts and his hand grazes the underside of my breast causing my breath to catch. Waves of heat careen through my blood and my breathing quickens. Misinterpreting the reason, he whispers, “Ssh, we won’t be under the blanket much longer. Just until we’re out of the city.”
His lips linger close to my ear. Before I even realize I’ve done it, I turn my head slightly and tilt it up so I can feel his lips against my skin. He doesn’t misinterpret my reason this time. His lips oblige my desire instantly. His tongue is silk as he uses it to drive me crazy. A low moan escapes me when he nips my earlobe. Fire shoots down my body to my core and I turn my head to kiss him.
“If you’re fucking under that blanket I’m going to pull the jeep over and dump you on the side of the road.”
I’m mortified, but Roman is amused. “None of that going on back here. We’re as chaste as brother and sister.” He nips my earlobe again and I swat him away.
“Uh huh. If I had a bucket of ice water, I’d be using it about now,” Brielle says. “I’m not deaf, you know.”
I wish there was an underside to this seat big enough to crawl into it. Guilt has come rushing back into my mind and I want to be away from Roman so I can think clearly again. I can’t do anything with him until I find out more about Malik. Plus, I don’t even know if I want to do anything with him. I hardly know the guy.
A different kind of warmth spreads through me when I think of Malik. A strong, protective warmth that makes me forget my physical reaction to Roman’s touches. I wish I could envision his face. I know in my heart that he’s beautiful – inside and out. I realize Roman’s arms are not the arms I want to be wrapped in. Malik’s are. That realization is so strong that I push away from Roman hard enough to break free from his arms. Of course, I land on the floor of the jeep, but I feel better as soon as he isn’t touching me.
“That had to hurt,” Brielle chuckles. “I think you’re losing your mojo, Doc. Anytime a woman wants away from you so badly that she throws her injured body on the floor, you have been seriously rejected.”
I can just make out the storm clouds gathering on Roman’s face and the lightening in his eyes. He looks seriously frightening. “Will you please get off the floor?”
I want to less now than I did a minute ago. “I’m good down here.” I’m not. The sudden movement and the impact of my wounds against the back of the seats has caused waves of pain to roll through me, strong enough to make me nauseous.
A bump in the road causes me to wince in pain. “You’re being an idiot. Just come back up here, dammit.”
“Oooohhh, name calling. I can’t wait to see where this leads,” Brielle says. I can’t see the smile on her face, but I can hear it.
Ignoring her, I say to Roman, “You’re being an ass. You can’t order me around.” I know I sound like a petulant child but I’m not going to let him talk to me like that. My dignity has suffered enough today.
Our eyes clash; mine shooting out lightening sparks just like his. Roman’s face softens before mine. “You’re right, I am. I’m worried about you. You and your wounds would feel much better up here.”
I’m not so sure about that. There are many types of danger. Unfortunately, I hurt too much to keep arguing. “Fine.” I struggle back up to the seat and lay down. I make sure that there’s some space between our bodies and he doesn’t try to move me closer. Regardless, I’m still close enough to notice he still has a hard on. I love it when uncomfortable situations become unbearable situations.
Chapter 13 – The Fog
An excruciating twenty minutes of silence and discomfort later, Brielle says, “You lovebirds can come out now.”
I can’t get the blanket off from me fast enough. I push it to the floor and sit up. A dizzy spell hits me and I almost fall back down again, but Roman puts a supporting hand on my shoulder as he sits up.
“Steady now. Sudden movements like that are a bad idea.”
Under his doctorly advice, I hear a faint trace of agitation. He’s still annoyed with me. Why wouldn’t he be? I go from wanting to kiss him to throwing myself on the floor to get away from him in less than a minute. Maybe my head injury made me bipolar.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, attempting to calm myself while the dizziness passes. When it finally does, I open my eyes and look at Roman. “Thank you,” I say, hoping that he hears the apology in my voice.
Roman moves out from behind me so I can lean back against the seat. “How long until we get to the safe house?” I ask Brielle.
“About two hours,” she replies. That’s not so bad. I settle back and close my eyes again.
I must have fallen asleep because I’m suddenly standing in a fog so thick, I can hardly see my hand in front of my face. I turn around and around, looking for a way out but there’s nothing but the white mist. Panic starts to rise from the pit of my stomach.
“Skye,” a voice says somewhere in the distance. “I had to bring you here. I need to warn you.”
“Who are you?” I ask, turning around again, trying to determine the direction the voice is coming from. “Where am I?”
“I don’t have time for explanations; it’s dangerous for me to communicate with you like this because I’ve only brought your consciousness here and I can’t do it for very long. Trust Brielle. Now that they know who you are, she is the only one who can keep you safe.”
“Okay…I figured that out already. That’s why I’m letting her lead me around like I’m her pet monkey. But what do you mean, ‘now that they know who I am.’ Why do the djinn care about me at all?”
A disturbance in the fog makes me spin around. A low growl is emanating from somewhere in the mist and it seems to be moving closer. “What is that?” I ask.
“We don’t have any more time. I shoul
dn’t have brought you here, I’m sorry. Know this my dear one, Roman is not who he seems. Warn Brielle that you have been discovered. Quickly.”
The mist is gone and I’m back in the jeep. I’m lying on my back on the seat again with Roman hovering over me and shouting my name. He’s pulling my left eyelid up and I’m getting a serious case of déjà vu. I nearly choke as I suck oxygen into my lungs; something that they seem to be depleted of at the moment. A coughing fit follows.
Roman holds my shoulders until the violent racking of my body stops. “You were dead,” he says. No preamble, he just tells me I was dead.
I scowl at him. When I finally stop coughing long enough to speak, I rasp, “I was asleep, not dead.”
He shakes his head. His face is a finely tuned mask of a doctor who has to tell a patient bad news. “You had no pulse, you stopped breathing and I’ve been doing chest compressions on you for the last five minutes.”
