Emmitt's Treasure: Judgement of the Six Companion Series, book 2 (8 page)

She drove a sharp elbow into my ribs.  I grunted but didn’t let go.

“Please,” I whispered.  Tilting my head closer, I brushed my lips against the lower part of her neck.

She stopped struggling and shivered in my arms.  I trailed my nose around the shell of her ear, breathing her in.

“I’ll take every knee, elbow, or fist you throw at me because it means you’re still here, and I still have a chance to explain.”

Just when I thought I might be reaching her, she made a choked noise, crying harder as she shook in my arms.

“No,” I said desperately as I turned her to face me.

Her red eyes brimmed with tears as she reached up to brace her hands against my chest.  The feel of her fingers against my shirt made me burn for more.

Taking her face between my hands, I touched my forehead against hers.

“Please,” I whispered.  “Give me a chance.  Give me time.  I’m different, but nothing to fear.”

“I want my brothers,” she said brokenly.

“Of course.  Nana only wanted to protect them.  She didn’t want them to see you like this and worry.”

She glanced from me to Jim, obviously not believing what I said.  I dropped my hands and straightened away from her, trying to show her she could trust me.

She backed away and knocked on Winifred’s door.

The door swung open.  Both boys stood beside Winifred.  She gently nudged them out into the hall.  I wanted to give them a reassuring smile, but wasn’t sure everything would be all right.  Michelle had fear in her eyes and wouldn’t look at me as she steered her brothers toward the stairs.  She walked sideways, always watching us, until the second landing.

She could have left, I told myself.  But she hadn’t.  She’d stayed.  That meant there was hope.

With a groan, I turned and went into Jim’s apartment.  Both Winifred and Jim followed me.

“You should have kept quiet,” Jim said.

“My nuts feel like they are the size of water balloons,” I said, easing myself down onto the couch.  “A pain in my ass is just overkill at this point.”

Winifred went to the freezer and brought back a bag of frozen peas.  I felt no shame laying them on my crotch.

“I’m sorry it didn’t go as you’d hoped,” Winifred said.

“Me, too.”  I sighed.  “I just thought being upfront would help her trust me more.  I mean, I can protect her from whoever is after her, no problem.  I thought showing her that would help.”

“With time, she’ll come around,” Winifred said with a pat on my head.  “Want me to make you some cookies?”  Winifred’s answer to troubled times was always cookies.

“Yeah,” Jim said.  “No nuts, though.”

I threw the bag of peas at Jim.

It took an hour before I was walking like usual.  As soon as I could move without groaning, I went upstairs.  My intent to work even harder on the new place evaporated at the soft sound of Michelle crying from within her apartment.  So I sat on the landing and just listened.  I’d given an already frightened woman more reason to fear, and I hated myself for it.

At some point, it started to rain.  The normally soothing sound just seemed a depressing backdrop to her pain.  It took a long time before she quieted.  With a heavy heart, I went into the apartment and started looking at what needed to be done to tile the bathroom floor.

Sometime around dawn, I heard movement across the hall.  The heavy sigh and a partially pained groan worried me.  I jogged downstairs and grabbed some aspirin Winifred kept on hand for Mom.  With the two pills in my hand, I sped upstairs and knocked on Michelle’s door.

The movement inside stilled, but the door didn’t open.

I knocked again.  This time I heard feet slowly crossing the carpet.  Then, I caught the rapid beat of her heart and the scent of her fear through the door. The ache in my chest grew with my helplessness.

When she opened the door, the sight of her puffy, red eyes had me stepping forward.  I needed to comfort her…to bring back a measure of peace she’d only just started to find here.

“Michelle, I’m sorry.”

She stood still as I held her in my arms.  She didn’t struggle or try to push me away.  After a moment, her pulse jumped into high speed and her scent changed to one of shock.  Why shock?  Because of the hug?

“Give me three weeks,” I begged.  “Stay.  Give me a chance.  Get to know me.  If you can’t accept me after three weeks, I will help you go wherever you want to keep you safe from whoever you’re running from.”

She pulled away.  I would have rather had another knee to the nuts than let her go, but I released her.  She took a step back and eyed me.  I could see she was thinking, deciding something.  But what?

“What are you?” she asked.

The question relieved my growing hopelessness.  She was giving me a chance.

“The most common name would be werewolf, but we’re not the ones from legend.  Not really.”

She paled, and I hurried to explain.

“We change when we want to, mostly as a defense, not because of the moon.  We eat like everyone else.  Pancakes rank as my favorite food, in case you haven’t noticed.”  I didn’t mention it was my new favorite because of her mouthwatering scent when she felt the pull toward me.  “We’re the same as humans, but enhanced.  I hear better, see better, can move faster, am stronger, and heal rapidly.  And I’m not an organ donor for obvious reasons.”

I stopped and waited.  She wasn’t saying anything or reacting to what I said.

Behind her, Aden softly called her name, a signal to end our conversation, but I didn’t want to leave yet.

“It’s supposed to rain today,” I said quietly.  “I pulled a few more games from the basement if you want me to bring them up.”

She shook her head.  Knowing I needed to give her some space, I left.  It wasn’t easy, though.

Jim was out in the hall.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

I did.  With my life.  So I nodded.

“Go work in the garage for a while.”  He patted my shoulder before going into the apartment across the hall.

Frustrated, I rubbed my forehead and jogged down the steps.

Winifred was there with the promised cookies.

“You’re letting him talk to her?” she asked, holding up the plate.

I took two and ate each in a single bite.

“I doubt he can make it worse,” I said after I swallowed.

Winifred made a non-committal noise, and I headed out the door into the light rain.  A sound from the balcony drew my attention.  Jim was standing on the third floor’s covered porch.  He saluted me and turned to listen to whatever discussion was happening in Michelle’s apartment.  I could faintly hear Aden’s voice but couldn’t make out the words with the closed windows and distance.

Within the depths of the garage, I paced.  Nothing felt right.  I wanted to howl in frustration at how things had turned out.  But really, what had I expected?  Open arms?  Shouts of joy?  A knee to the nuts should have been on the top of the list, along with outright rejection.

Jim moved away from her door, turning the corner just as Michelle stepped out onto the porch.  She leaned against the railing and eyed the vehicles.  It didn’t take a mental link to know what she was considering.  She was thinking of running.  I stopped pacing and misery gripped me.  She couldn’t.  Not yet.  I needed a chance.

Jim stepped around the porch, walking toward her.

“I wouldn’t have told you,” I heard him say.

She whirled to face him.

“I would have waited for the fear in your eyes to leave.  I would have given you a chance to know me better.”  He leaned on the rail beside her and looked at me.  “But not telling you felt like a lie to Emmitt.  And he couldn’t stand lying to you.”

She looked at both ends of the porch.  Did she think I was hiding around a corner, too?  Was she that afraid of me?  And why only me?

“Why isn’t she kicking you in the nuts?” I said softly.

“It’s just me,” he said, glancing at her.  Then he nodded toward me.  “He’s in there.”  He waited a few seconds before speaking again.  “So, are you going to stay?”

“Why should I?” she asked.

“Because I can’t live without you,” I said even though she couldn’t hear me.

Jim ignored me.

“Because whoever you’re running from is still out there.  Here, you’re safe, whether you believe it now or not.  Because we care about you...
he
cares about you.”

She didn’t say anything in response to that.

Jim straightened and looked at her, keeping his serious expression.

“Can I have some cereal, too?” he asked.

I shook my head as, from within the apartment, Aden shouted his approval.

“Go ahead,” she said.

She stayed on the porch for several minutes, staring down at the garage.  I knew she couldn’t see me.  But was she thinking about what Jim said?  About me?  I hoped so.  And, I hoped Jim’s talk had helped her understand this was where she was meant to be.

She turned away and went back inside, leaving the door partially open so I could hear every giggle as Jim played with the boys throughout the morning.

Frustration and boredom drew me inside to the apartment across the hall where I listened to Jim play with the cubs, while wishing it was me in there.  I worked for several hours before I couldn’t stand it anymore and went to the hallway.

“What exactly is your plan?” I said, knowing Jim would hear me even though Michelle’s door was closed.

From inside, the playing quieted.

“I better get going,” Jim said, eliciting disappointed sounds from the boys. “Yeah, I know.  Sorry guys.  But I think Emmitt needs my help.”

I shook my head and started walking downstairs.  It didn’t take long for him to join me in his apartment.

“So your plan was to play all morning?” I said, going to the fridge.  I threw some stuff onto the counter and Jim got the plates so we could make sandwiches.

“Yep.  And to not get kicked in the nuts.  I’d say it was a successful mission.”

“Jim, leave Emmitt be,” Winifred said, coming into the apartment.  “How was she?”

“Nervous.  Scared.  But the longer I was up there, the more she relaxed.  I think she’ll stay.”

“Why do you think that?” Winifred asked.

I knew why, and I hated it.

“Because she has nowhere else to go,” I said with a heavy heart.  I didn’t want to trap her here; I wanted her to want to be here.

“Then we need to give her a reason to want to stay,” Winifred said in her no nonsense way.  “Keep working in the apartment.  You’ll make it a home.”

I nodded.  Jim followed me up the steps, and we spent the next few hours working.  The sounds from the apartment across the hall kept distracting me.  The kids were growing bored, and Michelle was sounding at the end of her rope.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jim said when I took a step toward the hall.

“Why not?”

“She’s not ready to face you yet.”

“How do you know?”

Jim inhaled deeply and remained quiet.  I inhaled, too.  It was still there.  Her fear.

“Fine.  Go see if she’ll let you help her.”

Jim nodded, and I left the apartment.  We’d done enough work on the new place for the day, and I didn’t want to be in there, listening to another play session.  When I reached the bottom stair, I heard the boys run out onto the third floor landing.  They cheered as they scampered down the steps and out the front door.

Shaking my head, I went to wash up.  I’d just turned off the water when Jim yelled from upstairs.

“Michelle’s making dinner.”

Jim wasn’t subtle about anything, and I got his message loud and clear.  I needed to get up there and help her.  In seconds, I was dressed and in the hall.

As Jim raced down the stairs, he spoke softly.

“She’s stressed and exhausted and ready for a really big glass of wine.”

I went back into the apartment and took the bottle from the fridge.  Since Jim preferred beer, I wasn’t sure why he had it.  And I probably didn’t want to know.

With the wine in one hand, I raced up the stairs.  My pulse sped at the thought of seeing her again.  I stopped at her apartment door to knock, but forgot to when I saw her.

She was standing with her back to the living room as she stared at the contents of her refrigerator.  Her dark hair was pulled back into her customary ponytail, but it wasn’t as smooth as usual.  Little wisps had escaped.  She turned her head slightly so I could see her profile.  Jim was right.  She did look tired.

She closed the refrigerator then opened the freezer and removed a large package of meat.

“Can I help?” I asked from the door.

She glanced over her shoulder to look at me.  The pose, the angle of her head...I swallowed hard.  She was so beautiful.  So humanly fragile.  So mine.

When she frowned and looked like she would say no, I quickly held up the bottle and hoped Jim knew what he was talking about.

“I also brought wine.  Jim said you needed it.”

“One glass,” Winifred called up the stairs.

Michelle’s lips twitched at Winifred’s words.  Seeing an emotion other than fear or worry had me responding with a grin and a wink.  Then, Michelle surprised me further by nodding.

My pulse leapt again as I stepped into the apartment and made my way to the kitchen.  Her humor faded, and she watched me warily.  I pretended not to notice and didn’t let it destroy the moment.  She’d let me in, and I was coming to realize it was two steps forward and one step back with her.  She was prickly like that.  It just meant any progress with her would be slow.

Finding the biggest glass in the cupboard, I set it on the counter and filled it to the top with wine.  It would give Michelle the chance to drink as much as she wanted without me disobeying Winifred.

When I glanced at Michelle, I saw her worried look.  Did she think I was trying to get her drunk?

“You don’t have to drink any,” I said.

She responded by picking up the glass and taking a large swallow before removing the meat she’d put in the microwave.  I stood back and just watched her for a moment, basking in her company and her scent.  I especially liked the way she moved.  Slow and sure.  My gaze fell to her long legs—I needed to thank Winifred for the cutoff shorts.  Realizing the direction of my appreciative gaze and thoughts, I cringed.  If I wasn’t careful, I’d be riding Michelle’s knee again.

When she tossed an onion my way, my gaze was properly on her face once more.  We worked side by side to make the meatloaf for dinner.  The smell of the food wasn’t enough to cover her emotions, which seemed to shift with each sip of wine.  She had something on her mind, and I kept quiet, hoping she’d realize she could talk to me.  About anything.

But when she did speak, I wasn’t ready for what she said.

“He locked them in their room when he got tired of them.”

We both froze.  I could smell her surprise as I struggled with my anger.  I wanted to know who locked them in their rooms, but knew now wasn’t the time to push for more information.

I quickly washed the food from my hands then turned her to face me.  Her cheeks were flushed; from the wine or what she said, I couldn’t be certain.

I remained quiet, waiting for her to look up.  When she did, she kept talking, a small sign of trust.

“My mom died just after Aden was born.  My stepfather, their dad, died two days before I saw you at that diner.  I’m all my brothers have.  I won’t let them be locked in a room again.”

“David will never get the chance,” I promised.  If I ever saw him again, he was a dead man.

Something flitted across her features.  I lightly breathed in and tasted her confusion as she studied me with a slight frown.