A Beauty Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 1) (13 page)

He continued to look in her eyes and she was compelled to hold his stare.  It distracted her from the tingling underneath his fingers.

“I,” she began but stopped.  She couldn’t, wouldn’t, lie to him.  Not only because Emmy had a feeling he’d be able to tell, but because it just felt… wrong.  For whatever reason, lying to Jason felt wrong.  However, he was waiting for some kind of response.  She wasn’t sure what to say.  Instead, with her free hand, she curled a strand of hair behind her ear and pressed her lips together.  Then, the words found her lips and compelled them to speak.  “I’ll try.”

He nodded his head once and finally released her.  Her arm fell back into its proper place at her side, but the goosebumps still lingered.  Not because he had touched her, though, but because he let her go.  Because her skin was cold now, so she pulled the sleeve of her sweatshirt down in order to alleviate the problem.  It didn’t work.  She was still cold, even when they reached the sun and the house, even when she was safe in his car, driving to the store.  She didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Chapter
7

              The nights grew colder with each passing day, and Emmy was surprised to find a heavy blanket folded up and placed just outside her room when she woke up the next morning.  Her lips curled up as she retrieved it and brought it back to her bed.  She was already layering her clothes thanks to the decrease in temperature, but this would definitely help keep her warm.

              Another week went by, and whether Emmy would admit it or not, she and Jason and Rumpel had developed a comfortable routine.  Since Emmy was prone to be the early riser, she would let Rumpel out to do his business and chase any deviant squirrels while she made coffee.  By the time Jason woke up, breakfast was ready.  When breakfast finished, the couple and the dog would go on a walk around the property.  Jason had yet to venture back into the woods, and for that, Emmy was grateful.  She wasn’t sure she was ready to explore them with him just yet.  Normally, they were silent, but the silence was companionable rather than awkward. Every now and then, Jason would ask her something, she would respond, and a conversation would develop.  Lunch followed after that, and then Emmy would run errands, or, if there were none, she would tidy up the cabin.  Jason would go back up to his room and write until dinner.  When dinner would finish, Emmy would shower and then turn in, while Jason would stay up, late into the night and early morning.  Emmy never knew how long Jason stayed up, but she could hear him typing away on his keyboard, even with her door closed.

              On a particular morning, Emmy was roused from her sleep thanks to a chill.  Knowing she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep without the aid of some warm milk, she crawled out of bed, pulled on a jacket, and headed down the stairs.  She yawned, her hand coming up to scratch the top of her head.  It took about twenty minutes for her to warm up the milk, drink it, and then put everything away.

              As she headed up the stairs, a shout nearly caused her to lose her balance and tumble down the stairs.  She managed to grab the banister just in time, all the while wondering just what was going on.  The shout sounded human.  It had to be.  Was Jason shouting at Rumpel?  Rumpel always did sleep curled against the back of his legs.  There were times she wondered if the dog would do her the honor of spending the night with her, but she wasn’t ready to leave her door open just yet.

              She crept in the direction of Jason’s room, trying to figure out what was going on.  The shouting had stopped but there was talking going on, and… whimpering?  Was Jason really doing something to the dog?  Because, in all the time Emmy spent with the two, she was certain they both loved one another very much.  Yes, in this instance, she knew that Jason was capable of love.  It was clearly written in his brown eyes.  There was no way he would harm the Rumpel in any way.

              Then why the whimpering?

              Emmy continued down the hall until she was directly in front of Jason’s room.  She hadn’t been here since she had gotten caught looking at a picture of his wedding.  In fact, she had pointedly avoided his room for that very reason.  He had never brought it up, and for that, she was thankful, but she didn’t want him to do so now.  Unlike Emmy, Jason left his door open so Rumpel could go in and out as he pleased.  Still, Emmy could barely make out anything from where she stood beside random silhouettes that could be… anything, really.

The whimpering, and then talking, continued.

Emmy was caught in the doorway, still unsure of what to do.  She wanted to go in there and make sure everything was all right but she was rooted in place, afraid that he might yell at her for disturbing him.

Something touched her hand, and she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from yelping in surprise.  Her heart continued to race even after finding out it was Rumpel.  He looked much healthier.  Fat began to coat his body, but if he wanted to survive the bitter Tahoe winter, he’d need to pile on some more.  He was looking up at her with big brown eyes, his eyebrows jumping up and down, as though they were trying to coax her into doing something.  As she stared at the dog, she realized she could still hear the whimpering, which meant the sound was coming from Jason.

Was he… crying?

Or was he sleeping?

Emmy didn’t want to interrupt him if he was crying.  It was just after three in the morning, and it wasn’t any of her business to walk in and disturb him.  He’d be embarrassed, she’d be mortified, and the awkwardness that had been slowly fading away would come back full-force.

But if he was dreaming…

He sounded so sad.

Rumpel headed back into the room, but once he was fully immersed in the shadows, he stopped and turned, waiting for her to follow.

If Jason was crying, Emmy would just tell him the dog heard a strange sound and led her to him.

She inhaled deeply, preparing to hold her breath until she found out the source of the noises.  Using as light a foot as she could muster, she proceeded to step into the room.  It wasn’t as dark as she had originally anticipated, what with the full moon shining through the window just above the head of Jason’s bed. 

That was where she found him.  He was sleeping.  Once she reached the side of the bed, she dared challenge his slumber by taking a seat on the edge, all while twisting her torso so she could continue to keep her eyes focused on him.  Wrinkles permeated his skin, more so now than when he was awake.  Judging from the furrow of his brow, the pursed lips that would either mumble something incoherent or let out a whine, he was having a nightmare.  Beads of sweat littered his brow, forcing the locks of hair to cling to his skin.  Emmy couldn’t help but drop her index finger to his face with the intent to brush away the hair, but she was stopped before she could do anything by a hand that shot up and gripped her wrist.  His eyes snapped open into hers, and for a moment, neither spoke.  Neither breathed.  They simply stared at each other.  She was trapped and she knew it, but the heat he was inflicting on her skin made it slightly more bearable than she ever thought was possible.

“You were speaking,” she managed to say though her voice was laced with breath and warm milk.

He didn’t say anything, just continued to search her eyes.  She didn’t pull away though she knew she probably should.  She couldn’t blink, couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t look away.

Finally, he dropped her hand and reached up to brush his hair away himself.

“I, I’m sorry.”  She looked down at her hands in her lap.  They were suddenly cold and she rubbed them together, giving her something to focus on.

Rumpel hopped up on the other side of the bed and curled up against Jason.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmured.  He was rightfully tired but somehow was able to coat some sincerity in his words.  “I was having a nightmare.”  A pause.  Emmy dared to breathe.  She didn’t know why she was so keen on hearing what the nightmare was about, but it didn’t matter: She didn’t want to scare him into shutting up by saying or doing anything he might deem as threatening.  A strained smile touched his face but didn’t reach his eyes.  Even his dimples looked like they didn’t want to accompany it.  “Just my past, catching up to me.”

It was the only explanation she would get.  Letting out a shaky breath, she craned her neck so she could look at him again.  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” she asked.

“The past is the past,” he said.  His exhaustion made his voice thicker so Emmy had to pay attention in order to understand what he said.  “It’s neither good nor bad but defines who
you are.  You can’t change it.  It’s not one thing or another, it just is.”

Emmy let his words sink in by looking out the window, at the moon glowing on the field.  She could make the edge of the woods just off to the side, but Jason’s view was grass and wildflowers rather than trees and bushes.  It was nice, she realized.  This stillness.  This serenity.  The silence.  She could get used to this.

At that thought, her head snapped back down to Jason.  “Are, are you all right?” she managed to ask.  She had no idea why she thought she could ever get used to living out here in the middle of nowhere with a stranger – although now he was more of an acquaintance, wasn’t he? – who might or might not have killed his wife and her lover, where the closest person around was an old woman half a mile away.  If she screamed, no would hear her. 

It must be the exhaustion.  It has to be.  That, or the altitude.  She was up higher here than in San Francisco.

He chuckled at her question.  This time, his smile was real, but since it wasn’t bright, his face merely glowed rather than lit up.  Still, it was better than that fake one from before.

“I think I should be asking you the same question,” he said.  “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.  This is different for you, isn’t it?”

Emmy wasn’t exactly sure what he meant.  There were a slew of answers she could respond with, ranging from “Yeah, I’ve never really lived with a murderer before” to “My parents
telling me to turn down my music because the neighbors might call the cops but now I’m living somewhere where I could blow out the speakers and no one would be able to hear” but she decided to answer with something honest but vague, as usual.

“I’m still getting used to it.”

“You will,” he said, his eyes softening as he continued to stare.  “Or, at least, I hope you do.”

Emmy swallowed and pulled her eyes away from him to rest on the dog.  “My grandfather always made me hot chocolate after I’ve had a bad dream,” she said.  “Would you like me to make you some?”

This caused his brow to furrow.  “Do we even have hot chocolate?” he asked.

Emmy nodded.  “I picked some up the last time I was at the store.  I hope you don’t mind.  It’s just, it’s getting colder and since I’m not much of a tea drinker and don’t want to drink coffee right before going to bed, I thought hot chocolate would be the safest bet.”

“I don’t remember the last time I had hot chocolate,” he admitted.  “Did you get marshmallows?”

Emmy felt a smile threaten to break out onto her face.  “Mini marshmallows,” she said.

“Then let’s have at it, shall we?”

When he moved, Rumpel jumped up, as though they were all going somewhere together, and soon, the trio was heading down the stairs, Jason in his robe, Rumpel wagging his tail, and Emmy bringing up the rear, watching the sight with surprised amusement.  Jason made sure to turn on the lights so nobody would trip or run into things.

“I’ll make a fire,” he said as he headed into the still-dark front room.

Emmy nodded but didn’t respond.  She grabbed the same pan she had boiled milk with and proceeded to do the same thing.  From her position in the kitchen, she had a good view of Jason, currently opening a trunk placed just off to the side from the fireplace.  She watched as he rolled his robe sleeves up to his elbows in order to grab a piece of wood without worrying about getting any residue on the material.  He placed the wood down in the fireplace and then fumbled through a few matches before lighting the wood on fire.  Just as he stood back up, Emmy whipped back around and focused back on the milk.  She didn’t want him to see her staring.  In fact, she didn’t want to realize she had been staring.

It took her another few minutes before she poured the milk into mugs, added the chocolate mix, and stirred everything up.  Since she wasn’t sure about his preference concerning the marshmallows, she decided to bring the bag so he could do what he wanted.  It took her two trips, and then both Emmy and Jason were sitting on the couch, his feet on the low coffee table, her legs tucked underneath her, both with mugs in their hands, and the marshmallow bag between them.  The fire crackled into the distance, the bright flames illuminating the otherwise dark room.  Rumpel was on the floor, resting in the space between the couch and the coffee table.

“I love marshmallows,” Jason said as he opened the bag of marshmallows.  Emmy was holding onto his mug so he wouldn’t accidentally spill his drink.  Not that it would affect the couch much, but Rumpel probably wouldn’t approve of being showered with hot liquid.  “I have to have at least ten in my hot chocolate.”

“I actually only like a few,” Emmy said though he hadn’t actually asked her her opinion.  It was as though she wanted to share something about herself with him.  How odd.  “I’m not a big fan of them outside of hot chocolate, except with s’mores.”