Adelaide Upset (24 page)

I didn’t think things
could get more intense, but Luke’s face was cut harsh with craving.
He seized the back of my knees, spreading them open. His thrusts
pushing me across the bed and he had to pin my waist between his
hands to hold me still. Every surge compelled a cry, the sounds
loud and unabashed. It was all a wave, swelling high, drowning me
with urge and impression.

Our clothes twisted and bunched.

Luke’s muscles clenching and touched with
sweat.

His eyes fixed to my chest, the flesh
jerking in rhythm with him.

And then the wave folded
over, crashing violently, and I enjoyed the drowning. When I opened
my eyes, Lucas was slumped beside me, his arm flung over my chest.
We heaved together, gasping and tired.

I was very still and calm
afterwards, sort of reflecting on it all. The day’s events played
out, but I didn’t feel tied to them anymore. I thought of the
word
mortality
—the state or condition of being subject to death. Someone
had tried to kill me, but it wasn’t that, it was Smith’s bones that
made me feel the heavy cloak of my demise.

People had sex after
funerals according to Francesca. People did a lot of things to feel
alive. They sought danger, enjoying the thrill. I had done that.
Not the danger part, the thrill part, using Lucas to bring me back
to life. It had worked. I no longer felt dejected or melancholy. I
felt... satisfied, pleased, maybe even happy.

I glanced at Lucas. He was wiped out, eyes
closed, body pliant and relaxed. Knowing I wouldn’t get caught, my
eyes drifted south, curiously taking in his nether region. Not so
big now, and the used condom wasn’t helping. Gross. Wait... was
that?

I looked at my own thighs,
finding them streaked in blood. I shifted a hip, seeing smears on
the sheets. Lucas peeled open an eye, responding to my subtle
movements.

“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to be
nonchalant. “I bled on the bed.”

“Does it hurt?” he asked, grazing the inside
of my thigh with the back of his knuckles.

“
No, I’m just surprised, I
guess.” The pain of losing my virginity had long since gone, and
now that the sex was over my other hurts were making themselves
known, namely my head.

“You bled in more places than one,” Lucas
said, sitting up to examine the pillow. I blushed as he touched my
hair, his fingers smoothing through the strands as he searched my
scalp for a raw patch.

I hissed when he found it,
drawing back.

“
What happened?” he asked,
lightly touching around the cut on my shoulder next.

“I overestimated my abilities,” I said.

Lucas lightly cupped my
still exposed breast, touching me boldly. I tried to act like a
seasoned seductress, all cool and alluring, as if I casually
reclined half-naked in bed all the time. I couldn’t do it. Reaching
across Lucas, I grabbed the sheet and pulled it over the both of
us, feeling like a little prude.

“What abilities,” Luke said, unperturbed by
my newfound modesty.

Safe under the sheet I
cuddled up to him, his body warmer than a furnace. “I have this
incredible insight when it comes to people,” I answered, wanting to
be as honest as possible. “I always know how they feel, but
sometimes it fails me, or I rely on it too much.”

He was brutally Lucas just
then, standing up instead of answering. It felt weird to tell him
that, vulnerable almost, and I wanted a response. But I was easily
distracted, watching him remove the condom, but more interesting
was his body, a presentation of sorts as the shorts slipped off his
hips and hit the floor.

I know this sounds totally
weird, but the sex had been a childlike experience. Children are
discovering something new all the time, and as adults we forget
what that feels like... well, unless you’re an empath. And that was
what it was like—the sense of discovery, a brand new experience,
learning the mysteries of man. Learning Lucas. Even as he strode
down the stairs I watched him with a touch of wonder, enjoying the
new sight.

He returned with a first aid kit and warm
washcloth. I protested when he pressed the latter between my
thighs, blushing again. But he just shook his head, which from him
was very much like being shushed. Then he inspected me all over. My
cuts were cleaned with alcohol, my bruises numbered one by one.

Lucas spent a lot of time
staring at the one on my neck. Hidden in the shadow of my jaw, it
had been stamped there by Bill’s thumb when he’d tried to strangle
the life out of me.

“Who did this?” he finally asked, pressing
the last butterfly bandage over my shoulder.

“What would you do if I told you?” I asked,
honestly curious. He wasn’t acting upset, so I didn’t know how he
would respond to the situation, whether he would go on a rampage or
whatnot.

“I would do something,” he admitted
succinctly. “I would do anything if you asked. But you don’t ask,”
Lucas pointed out.

“
I want to tell you
things,” I said slowly, measuring my words. “I want to confide in
you, but I just don’t think I’m ready to break open just yet,” I
said, knowing it was too soon. The euphoria was wearing off, and
even that brief thought in passing dredged up images of Smith, and
not
my
Smith, but the bones of him.

“
Okay,” Lucas nodded, one
sharp motion. I couldn’t feel it or anything, but he
seemed
satisfied,
as if pleased by my declaration. “I was afraid it would be easier
getting between your legs than in that brain.”

“You’re one to talk,” I grumbled. “Wait,” I
said, staring at him. “Was that a joke?” I could never tell if he
was kidding.

“I was being serious,” Luke answered. “But
that doesn’t mean it wasn’t funny.”

“
Then laugh,” I said,
daring him. I couldn’t die happy until I heard Lucas Finch laugh. I
was beginning to wonder if I ever would. “Here, let me help you,” I
said, teasing his side.

“What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” I repeated, utterly
flabbergasted. “Can’t you tell? I’m tickling you!”

Apparently it had been a while, probably
years since someone had tickled him, and he was totally immune.

“Well I’m not giving up,” I said, letting
the sheet fall off as I climbed over his body. “I just found all
these new places to try out.”

My smile was cut short by the front door. It
slammed shut, heralding the arrival of some unknown person.

Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.

Lucas and I went still, staring at each
other for a second before my eyes went wide and I scrambled under
the blankets.

A flash of red hair, and
it was Elaine stepping off the stairs and into Luke’s bedroom. The
gall. My vision went red I tell you, no kidding, I wanted to murder
her for putting a damper on what had been the best moment of my
life.

But it wasn’t me that went
berserk. Much to my surprise, it was Lucas that lost his shit. And
that man, wow, his smiles might be sparse but his temper was
not.

Lucas sprung out of bed,
naked as the day he was born. “What the hell are you thinking,” he
bellowed. “Get out!” She scrambled back just in time, because he
slammed the door shut inches from her face. She’d looked so
surprised, shocked even. But what did she expect, us to applaud her
intrusion?

Lucas snagged his shorts
off the ground, jerking them on with sharp, angry pulls. I did the
same, searching frantically for my shorts which had been lost among
the sheets as I righted my crooked clothes. “Where are you going?”
I asked as Lucas made for the stairs.

“She won’t have left,” he answered, pulling
the door open.

I followed after him, only
to stop on the top step. I could hear them arguing, and so I sat
and listened, the sloped ceiling hiding me from sight.

“You need my help!” Elaine was saying.

Just hearing her voice made me bilious, the
anger building every second she stayed in the house.

“
I don’t,” Lucas said
severely, his deep voice grinding over the words. “It’s all a waste
of time and you know it.”

“
How can you say that to
me?” Elaine was swimming in confusion, her perplexity reaching me
on the second floor. “How can you just give up!” she screeched.
“You want to coast along living a half-life?”

What the hell was she talking about? Her
confusion was working me over, and it made me mad. They had some
sort of secret together, the thought was sickening.

“It’s not a half-life,” Lucas said
carefully. “I’m happy here.”

“
Impossible,” Elaine
challenged. But she wasn’t confident, not really.

“Get out of my house, Elaine. And don’t come
back.”

“I can fix this, I can fix you. If you’ll
only—”

“
Get
out!
” Lucas roared, the sound so loud
I jumped in place.

I think Elaine might have
been crying. Her voice wavered when she said, “You’re angry, Lucas.
You’re
angry
.”

Duh
, I thought. But my own anger
had fizzled, the fight winding down.

“Yes,” Lucas agreed. “I don’t understand it,
but things are different here. Maybe the damn thing ran its course.
I don’t care. I’m done thinking about it.”

“
It doesn’t work that
way,” Elaine said, her bafflement only escalating. But that was the
last thing she said. I heard the door open and close, her emotions
being carried off with her.

I padded down the stairs, finding Lucas
unmoving in the living room, thoughts preoccupied.

“What was that about?” I asked.

He turned slowly, eyes
drifting down me. Reaching out he touched my hair, fingers
cascading down the strands and continuing on to my waist where his
hand gripped me. “I’ll tell you,” he said. “Just not
now.”

Essentially it was the
same thing I’d said to him upstairs. Had that hurt him? It was
certainly painful for me to hear. But I understood. Secrets were
secret for a reason, and heedlessly giving them away was careless.
But a secret shared in confidence could be the most rewarding of
investments.

The two of us were getting there.

My shift on Monday was
something of a spectacle. It started with Ben, he was pacing when I
stepped into the office, a sure sign he was waiting to pounce. “So
you’ve decided to join us,” he said, grizzled beard
twitching.

Sighing, I tossed my purse
onto the counter. “Go on, just shout and be done with it.” He was
chomping for a fight, but for once I wasn’t in the mood.

“
Go on? Go on, she says!”
He thumped the counter with two crumpled fists, my purse rattling
in response. “I ought to fire you,” his voice crackled, both from
age and anger. “Shrugging off an entire shift, getting your friend
to make excuses for you,” he said, voice steadily rising. “Well you
don’t look sick to me!”

“
I didn’t say I was sick,”
I answered. Countering, “I said I wasn’t well, similar, but not the
same.”

“
You didn’t
say
anything, you
little smart ass, Francesca did—a half-hour after your shift was
over!”

“
You obviously misheard
the first half of my message—I suspect old age has made you deaf—so
let me skim over the second. It was an apology,” I said, glaring
into his eyes.

They were hooded and
rheumy, but for some reason this only made his stare more direct.
The grooves along his cheeks were like a ventriloquist’s doll, and
they cracked deeper when he said, “I had plans and I missed them.
Your apology won’t fix that.”

“
Plans?” I smelled blood
in the water. “With Florence?”

He glanced at the door, as
if saying the name might conjure her up. “Piss off, Adelaide,” he
growled, rounding the counter and brushing past.

Gone. That fight might
have lasted an hour, but Ben had flown the coop. Such was the power
of Florence, her name evoking his flight response. I guess I was
wrong in thinking I had interrupted their date with my absence. He
probably never had plans, that liar, just making it up to layer on
my guilt.

Being Monday it should
have been a nothing day, with lots of blinking to keep my eyes from
crusting shut, and little to no customers. But Stephen arrived
early, just minutes after Ben’s departure, laughing as he shoved
through the office door. Tim was with him, they were in the middle
of a conversation, though the words were entirely lost on
me.

I was focused on Stephen’s
face. He seemed carefree, and leaning over my desk, inching
forward, I caught a whiff of corresponding emotions. He
was
carefree.
Obviously he hadn’t been informed about the body. Smith’s body. I
guess it took time to sort out the identity. Dental records, DNA
samples, who knew?

“
You’re staring,” Stephen
said, collapsing into one of the wingback chairs. Tim took the
other seat, guitar across his lap. They were both
sweaty.

“
You’re dripping on the
upholstery.”

“
We went for a jog,”
Stephen explained. He reached around to the window unit behind him,
twisting the knob to full blast so the air conditioner whirled to
life, blowing the potted plant into a shiver.