Strength (Mark of Nexus #1) (9 page)

“Thanks.” I felt myself blush again as I took the dented bottle.
Must’ve been on sale.
“Yeah.”

“You’re a tough one to figure out,” he mused, tilting his chin.

“Is that a bad thing?” I took a long swig of water, thankful that I’d peed twice before coming out of the bathroom.

“Not if you ask me.” He walked over and sat on the floor with his back to the bed frame. “You can sit wherever. I know this is weird.”

“It’s not weird,” I said in a rush, hesitating to add, “Okay, maybe just a little.”

Giving the room another once-over, I opted to join him on the floor with my back against the wall. The trash bin had been righted, and the phone was back on its cradle.

“You cleaned up.” I’d intended it as a question, but it came out as a bland statement—a statement followed by a yawn.

He rubbed the back of his neck and gave an awkward grin. “You noticed, huh?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insinuate it was messy or anything.” I would’ve been more adamant about the apology, had I not been too tired to care. The room was comfortable, and my Spidey senses weren’t tingling with danger. I just wanted to relax.

“No, I should’ve cleaned up before I left.” He looked at the floor and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Look, I’m sorry about last night.”

“Huh?”
Where did that come from?

“You just caught me at a bad time,” he continued, lifting his gaze to mine. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

I pulled on the hem of my t-shirt. This was it. My golden opportunity. “Is it always…?” My voice rang out in the silent room, and I lowered it between us. “Is it always bad around
that
time?
”

Please, please tell me he has recollection of these episodes.
I hadn’t even considered the alternative. What if he had dissociative identities or something?

His face was grim. “You noticed that, huh?” He blew out a sigh and looked up at the ceiling. “Look, I know you guys think I’m crazy and all, but it’s not like that.”

I bristled, nerves on edge, ready to make a dash for the door. “We don’t think you’re—”

He looked me straight in the eyes, and I found myself unable to continue. The poor guy seemed so resigned to the notion. How could he live like that? The guilt crept back in, and I found myself hugging my knees. “Sorry.”

“Rena, I’m not crazy,” he said. “I know you guys hear all kinds of things during my clusters.”

“Your what?”

“Cluster headaches.” He pointed to his left eye, as if that suddenly explained things.

I had no idea what he was talking about. “Like migraines?”

His features darkened, and I knew I’d asked the wrong thing. “Not even close.”

“Oh.”

“It’s around the same time every night,” he began, leaning back on the bed. “It’s like someone takes a hot poker, straight out of the fire, and spears the whole thing through my eye socket.”

“That’s horrible.” I couldn’t hide my grimace as I imagined the scenario. “Can you take medicine or something?”

He smiled humorlessly. “I
can,
not that it makes much difference. Doctors still don’t know much about them, so they set me up with oxygen, injections, and a cocktail of pills I can’t even pronounce. It’s a trial and error deal.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Haven’t found anything that’s really effective yet.”

I’d never been much of a nurturer, but at that moment, I felt it start to bloom in my chest. “Wallace, I…we had no idea.”

He waved me off. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t tell you so you would feel sorry for me.” The corners of his mouth lifted. “I told you so everyone could stop freaking out about it.”

I gaped at him. “You knew.”

“Of course I knew. You think I don’t notice that people around here won’t make eye contact with me? That they edge around me in the elevator?” He shook his head, a little too blasé about the whole thing. “I’m not stupid.”

“I’m so sorry.” The guilt felt like a noose, constricting my airways. If I’d recognized him, if I’d known who he was, I would’ve acted the same way when we met. I would’ve scorned him like everyone else.

“I told you I didn’t sa—”

“And I told you I’m sorry!” Warmth pricked behind my eyes as tears formed and threatened to fall. “The way people treat you…some of that’s my fault.” I balled my fists and pressed my lips together. “I told stories like everyone else. I-I just…I don’t know how to fix it
.
”

He stared at me for a moment without saying anything.

I swallowed and looked away. “So, the clusters are why you’re always…?”

“Screaming?” he offered in a dry voice. “Growling? Banging my head on the floor? Drilling myself in the face with anything I can get my hands on? Yeah, pretty much.”

“That bad?” My stomach was in knots. It had to affect him way more than he was letting on—it
had
to—but what could I say? Sympathy felt so patronizing. “That really, really sucks.”

“Yeah, well, it happens.”

I leaned back against the wall. “I guess.” An awkward silence settled between us—one I felt compelled to fill. “I, uh, don’t really drink much, you know.”

“I could tell.”

“No, really.” I frowned at the sarcasm. “I can’t even tell you the last time I was that tipsy.”

He shook his head. “No, I mean, I could
tell.
You’re little anyway. It probably doesn’t take much.”

Ruffle my feathers, why don’t you.
I huffed. “Well, I’m not
that
much of a lightweight.”

“I bet.”

I sat up a little straighter. “Hey, what happened to the mild-mannered guy I met a week ago?”

His lips curved into slow grin. “Maybe you’re getting to know him.”

Chapter Ten

I woke up to blue numbers glowing in the distance. Four o’clock. “Mmmph…” I rolled over and clutched at the comforter, burying my face in the pillow. It smelled so good; I could’ve stayed there forever.

Wait.

I cracked one eye open. This wasn’t my bed. I raised my head and squinted around. This wasn’t my room, either.

The night’s details slipped back into place as I sat up. Wallace and I had talked until, well, I couldn’t remember. I must’ve nodded off in the middle. Again.

I guessed that meant he carried me to bed. The warmth of the thick comforter increased a notch as I pictured it. For the briefest of moments, I imagined how the bed would have felt with him beside me. The mattress would’ve dipped down on his side, letting gravity ease us together. Oh God. What if he—

Before I could freak out about his presence, or lack thereof, I caught a glimpse of his darkened form across the room. He was awkwardly reclined in the desk chair with his legs propped up on the desk. Wallace was a big guy, and the idea of him trying to sleep like that was almost laughable.
Almost.

Why did he give me the bed? He could’ve woke me up and sent me on my way. Hell, he could’ve let me sleep where I’d fallen on the floor. My heart constricted with something foreign and unwelcome. I didn’t even know guys like that existed anymore.

I had to wake him. It was time he claimed his rightful place on the bed. If Maverick hadn’t evacuated my room yet, I’d just make him leave by force. I had a score to settle with those two deserters, anyway.

Or maybe that was the sleepiness talking.

My body fell back of its own accord, collapsing onto the mattress. I turned my head to look at Wallace as darkness threatened to overtake my consciousness. If I didn’t get up, he was going to be so sore in the…

I blinked.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a long rectangle on the floor. Dust particles danced in the morning light, mimicking last night’s snow. I must’ve fallen asleep again.

The digital clock read eight-fifty in the morning. I groaned and sat up, patting my hair down. Had I really spent the entire night? With Wallace?

Before I could ponder it any further, the bathroom door opened. Wallace stepped out with an entourage of steam, smiling when our eyes met. He looked nothing short of debonair in a fitted, button-up shirt and a black silk tie. “How’re you feeling?”

My mouth tasted like cotton, and I had a headache pounding the back of my skull. “C-Ca…” I cleared my throat and forced a smile. “Can’t complain. How about you? And why are you so dressed up?”

It was the kind of sight a girl wouldn’t mind waking up to everyday. Maybe with a pot of coffee brewing in the background, filling the air with a heavy, roasted aroma. I shook my head.
No, no. None of that.

He stopped at the dresser, pulling on a thick-banded watch. “It’s Sunday.”

“
Yes, yes, it is.” I raised my eyebrows. “Is it dress-up Sunday?”

He laughed under his breath and turned to face me. “Rena, I’m going to church.”

I was pretty sure my jaw came unhinged. “Oh, right. Church. Because…we have a church here.” I shifted my gaze guiltily. In the past two and a half years, I hadn’t once visited the chapel near campus. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe. I mean, I’d been churched as a kid. I knew Jesus. I just didn’t visit Him at His house anymore.

I pulled the covers back and swung my legs over the side. “I’m, uh, sorry for passing out on you last night. You really,
really
didn’t have to sleep in that chair. It must’ve killed your back.” I paused and quickly added, “And thanks—you know—for everything.”

“I’ll live, and you’re welcome.” He grabbed his keys off the desk and shoved them into one of his pockets.

“Ah, almost forgot,” he said as he tossed my lanyard across the room. “Wouldn’t want you locked out of the love shack.”

I wrinkled my nose in disgust, barely catching the green and black cord. “Don’t call it that. That’s creepy.”

He made a face and swept past me, stepping into his boots. “Call it like I see it.”

“Uh huh.” I rolled my eyes and followed suit. It wasn’t like I wanted to stick around while he was out getting his praise and worship on. I wrapped the baggy, cuffed pant legs around my shins and zipped my boots up. Talk about classy.

“You ever go to Campus Fellowship?” He threw his trench coat on, and the resultant ensemble looked like something straight out of GQ.

“Uh…” I grabbed my purple pea coat off the floor and tossed it over my arm. “Can’t say that I do.”

He opened the door, letting me step out into the common room ahead of him. “Maybe you should sometime.”

I was still having trouble making sense of the whole church conversation. How could a guy look like sin and chase after redemption? It didn’t add up.

Shaking my head, I shoved the suite door open and held it back for him to catch. “Yeah, maybe I should.”
If I ever find a flame-retardant dress.

We walked to the elevator in silence, neither one of us truly knowing what to say after that. At least, I didn’t. When the doors chimed open, I sucked in a deep breath.

And out stepped Aiden.

“Rena?”

Shit.
“Hey!” I took a step back and inadvertently put Wallace between us. Whether he realized it or not, he tilted his body to shield me—like his scrawny, redheaded suitemate posed some kind of threat to us.
Well, this is bound to look suspicious.
I peeked out from behind his arm.

“What’s going on?” Aiden asked, as he adjusted the thick strap of the weekend bag on his shoulder, teetering at the weight. “Why are you here?”

Great questions. Too bad I didn’t have the answers. If I told the truth, he’d freak out and make a scene. If I lied, I’d hurt Wallace’s feelings and throw his generosity back in his face. Maybe I could evade.

I took a deep breath and smoothed my hair back.

“What do you mean? I was hanging out with my friend here.” I laughed and slapped Wallace on the back, wincing when it stung my hand.

“Oh.” Aiden looked skeptical, and from his expression, I could tell that I’d have to explain the whole thing later, anyway. “Well, I guess I’ll see you guys around.” He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and hobbled around the corner, carting his bag along.

How much did he pack for one weekend?

“Coming?”

I turned to find Wallace already in the elevator, holding the doors open. “Oh, sorry.” I slipped in beside him. “Thanks.”

He pressed the buttons for the fourth floor and the lobby, and then leaned back against the wall. “Why do you worry so much about what he thinks?”

The confined space made him even more imposing. He wasn’t demanding an answer, but at that moment, it sure felt like he was. Thankfully, time was on my side. I just had to stall for a few seconds. “He thinks he’s being protective.”

“Oh, right,” he said blandly. “I forgot. You’re with the crazy guy.”

The bell sounded, announcing our arrival on the fourth floor. As soon as the mirrored doors separated to grant my passage, I darted out into the hallway. “Watch your mouth,” I snapped, meeting his eyes with a grin. “That crazy guy is my friend.”