A Beauty Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 1) (10 page)

Something grabbed her shoulder and she jumped, letting out a shout.

“Emmy?”

The mumble, articulate, soft-spoken voice.

Before she could think to stop herself, she turned around and flung herself into his arms.  Emmy managed to keep herself from crying in relief as she clung to him.  He smelled like cigarettes, pine trees, and something musky, something unique to just him.  It was familiar and safe and she clung tighter to him, burying her face into her chest.  It was only when Jason placed a cautious hand on her back, his arm cradling hers, that she realized what she was doing.  Her first instinct was to pull away, to throw some distance between the two of them, but Mrs. Franzsky’s words stopped her.  Maybe physical contact was another thing to add to the list, because as he relaxed into her grip, he wrapped both of his arms around her and pulled her even closer to him, tucking her head under his chin.  She would never admit it, but this was… nice.  His hands made her feel secure.  Could these hands be deceivers?  Could the same hands that held his wife like he was currently holding Emmy be the same hands that killed her?  It was impossible.  It had to be impossible.

“I thought you left.”

It was a whisper, a caress that barely made any contact with the wind, but she heard it, clear as the crickets that squawked in the woods.

Emmy tilted her head up to look into his eyes.  As she did so, the bridge of her nose brushed his jawline and her lips were close to his own.  His lips looked soft, actually.  Much softer than she would have ever believed.  Were they as soft as they looked...?

She blinked, making traitorous, dangerous thoughts vanish.  “What do you mean?” she asked as soft as possible.

He wasn’t looking at her.  His eyes were focused on the lower half of her face, but she wasn’t sure why.  It took him a moment before he realized she had spoken, had asked him a question, and he immediately picked his eyes up so they locked with hers. 

“I thought you left,” he said again.  “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

Emmy’s heart clenched at the worry drenched in his words and she had to clench her jaw to keep herself from saying something stupid, like a reassurance that she wouldn’t leave him.  In fact, she dropped her hands from his baggy t-shirt and forced herself from his grasp so there was space between them.

“We should head back,” she murmured.

“Where did you go?”  He began walking south, deeper into the woods.

Emmy had to curl her fingers into fists to keep from reaching out to latch onto his robe to ensure they wouldn’t get separated.  Instead, she kept close to him, her eyes keeping a firm watch on the back of his head, his hair flaring out in its odd way.  The light of the moon shone down on it, casting an almost-halo over him.

“I,” she began, but shook her head, transfixed.  He was beautiful, even from behind.  The more she studied him, the more interested she became in looking at him.  “I saw a dog.  It looked like a stray.  I was going to get it some food, but when I went back out, it was gone.  I climbed a tree, tried to look for it, and met Mrs. Franzsky.”

“Ah,” he said, as though that explained everything.  The way he said it, Emmy thought he might be smiling.    “Yes, she’s quite a talker, isn’t she?  Nice, though.  Very nice.  She’s one of the only people who still talks to me.  Well, besides you.”

Emmy had no idea how to respond to that, so she remained silent.  The walk back to the cabin was about half a mile.  All the while, Emmy’s head kept turning every which way, keeping an eye out for both bears and the dog.  When they reached their destination, neither was spotted.  Her heart sank.  She hoped it was okay out there, but judging from its slight stature, if it didn’t get food soon, it wouldn’t last long.

“You realize,” Jason said as he held the back door open for her, “that if you were successful and gave the dog food, it would be back every day.”

Emmy walked over to the cabinets that hung over the stove and had to stand on her toes to open them.  Her eyes latched on a couple of cans of baked beans and snatched them.  “Oh,” she said, once she rolled back down to the flat of her feet.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think of that.”  It was a lie and she knew it.  She set the cans on the counter and closed the cabinet back up.  “Of course, you wouldn’t want to be responsible for a dog.”

“I never said that,” he corrected, his voice gentle.  Jason took a tentative step towards her and when he saw she wasn’t retreating, walked towards a drawer next to her hip.  He slid it opened and handed her a can-opener.  “Do you have a dog?”

As Emmy proceeded to open the cans, she noticed he hadn’t stepped back.  He was so close that she could reach out and touch him.  Her hands shook as she twisted the knob.  What was she doing?  She wanted to run, to take her chances in the woods, to be with her grandfather once again.  Another part of her, another irrational and far too compassionate part of her wanted to stay, to get to know the elusive, brooding author better.  She wanted to ask him questions and answer his and pretend, for just a moment, that he hadn’t been accused of killing his wife and her lover.  There were moments when she let herself be too reckless, when she let herself start to like him, to linger in his warm embrace, but she always remembered what he was.  How could she forget?

But…

He hadn’t tried to harm her, at least not yet.  He hadn’t even yelled at her and he had good reasons to do so, what with her sneaking in his room and then disappearing without first telling him that she’d be gone.  Perhaps she could give him a tiny chance.

“Yes,” she said, her lips daring to creep into a smile.  Once she popped the lids off, she turned on the stove and placed a pot on the burner before pouring the beans in it.  “An Australian Shepherd.”  She threw the cans away in the nearby trashcan and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  “His name is Bingo.  He’s the smartest dog in the world.”

“Really?”  His eyes looked soft, a warm blue rather than a dark one.  He was smiling, too a smile just as small as hers, but his came accompanied with dimples.

As they waited for the beans to cook, she nodded her head.  “He can jump through hoops and listen to commands,” she explained.  “He doesn’t need a leash.”

He didn’t say anything in return but continued to stare at her, his eyes carving something into her skin.  What, she wasn’t sure, but she felt herself flush as she looked away.  Her hand reached up and started playing with her hair, her eyes looking at the food.

“I’d like a dog,” he said, causing her to look back at him.  “I’ve been alone for a while.  It’s nice to not be alone anymore.”

Emmy cleared her throat.  “Well, dogs make the best companions,” she mumbled.  Had he complimented her, or was that metaphorical?  Whatever it was meant to convey, she felt herself start to shift her weight from her left leg to her right one and then back again.  She reached for a serving spoon and stuck it in the pot of beans, needing something to do with her hands so she wouldn’t have to look at him, wouldn’t have to think about him.  She started to stir, slow and methodical.

“Why don’t you take a bath?” Jason suggested.

Emmy furrowed her brow, turning her head.

“I’ll take care of dinner,” he continued.  “You should have some time to yourself to relax.  By the time you’re done, dinner will be ready.”

“If you’re sure…”  She let her voice trail off.  Was this some kind of trick?  Was he trying to tell her in a nice way that she smelled?

“You deserve to relax, Emmy,” he said in a way that sounded like there was more to his words than he was letting on.  “I don’t want you to be tense all the time.”

He couldn’t force her to not be tense.  Not when there were still questions regarding the real story about his wife and her lover.  A bath wasn’t going to fix that.

He offered her a smile, and while she wanted to return it, she couldn’t.  If she had tried, her face would resemble a grimace rather than anything sweet.

She headed up the stairs and down the hall where the bathroom was.  Emmy couldn’t help but glance in Jason’s room, directly across from the bathroom, but this time, the door was firmly shut.  He had learned his lesson.  Not that she would have dared to go in there again.  Not after what happened last time.

After stepping inside the compact room, she made sure to lock the door behind her and proceeded to fill the tub up with hot water.  It took a while before the water was hot enough for her, but once it was and she had stripped off her clothes and pinned her hair up as well as she could with three bobby pins, she eased herself into the water and a sigh escaped from her lips.  Her head instantly rested against the cool porcelain rim, and her eyes fluttered shut on their own accord.  Perhaps she did need a bath, now that she thought about it.

Even from the second story of Jason’s home, Emmy could clearly hear the crickets from outside.  A small square window with a screen over it was placed just above the rectangular mirror.  It was too dark to see out of it, and while there was no breeze, every now and then, she could feel the coldness that permeated the night drift in, mingling with the steam rising from the water, and causing Emmy to feel conflicting temperatures.

She should call her grandfather.  It had been two days since she last spoke to him, but it felt like an eternity.  She missed his voice.

Her thoughts continued to rehash everything that had happened to her so far, from the judging stares she received at the store and Mrs. Franzsky’s advice.  She had no idea how to treat Jason, no idea what to be around him, and as such, she was an awkward ball of confusion, tugging at her hair and pulling at her hoodie, her eyes cast downwards or to the side, just as long as she wasn’t looking at him.

He was probably used to it.

Everybody probably treated him that way.

Guilt seeped into her stomach and she had to open her eyes, as though to acknowledge it.  Emmy couldn’t make Jason happy.  She couldn’t pretend to not be affected by his potential murderer status because she was a horrible liar, and Emmy had a feeling his eyes were sharp enough to recognize any attempt at it.  Still, he was a person and a jury found him not guilty.  She would continue to keep on her toes but she couldn’t keep avoiding him, looking past him, seeing through him as though he was transparent, as though he wasn’t even there.  She didn’t want to call him a friend, but she could be warm to him.  She could be nice to him.

When the water started to cool, she stepped out of the tub, making sure to not drip any water onto the wood floors.  She wrapped a towel around her frame before she remembered she hadn’t brought any clean clothes for her to change into.  She glanced at her clothes, but her newly clean body physically shrunk back at the idea.  Chewing on her bottom lip, Emmy’s thoughts raced.  She might be able to reach her room where she could throw on pajamas and be down before Jason wondered where she was.

Emmy crept to the door after making sure her feet were dry so she wouldn’t slip and after unlocking it, opened it only to see Jason standing just outside, his fingers curled into his palm, poised to knock.  His eyes took her in, everything from the drops of water on her shoulders, the strands of hair molded to her face while the majority of it became frizzy due to the steam, the fact that she was practically naked in front of him.  His mouth had dropped open, obviously in utter surprise, and it took only a beat before Emmy realized what was happening, stepped back into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut.

“I, um.”  She could practically hear him push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  “Sorry.  Uh, I was worried about you.  It’s been a while.  The food was getting cold.”

As soon as she heard his footsteps walking away from her, Emmy started laughing.  She slapped her palm over her lip, but it did nothing to shield her ears from the sound.  Her face turned red and her muscles pinched at her facial action; she hadn’t smiled much in the past few days so laughing was downright unfamiliar.

Why was she laughing?  He had seen her with just a towel.  Yet, the situation they had found themselves in had been awkward and Emmy could not help but release the tension that had been building since she had left her grandfather.  Laughter had been an interesting but not unpleasant choice of expression.  It reminded her how much she enjoyed laughing and wanted to do it again.  Hopefully, soon.