No Light (17 page)

             
"Just let me talk to her-"

             
"Talk to her? You can take her ass with you, for all I care," she heard her father say.

             
"Fine! Where is she?"

             
She glanced around the room for anything salvageable. Her eyes landed on her knapsack. She hurried over to pick it up off the floor.

             
"Upstairs. End of the hall. Can't miss it. Get her and get the hell outta my house!" her father yelled.

             
She heard Luke mutter something under his breath, then his footsteps started up the stairs. She pulled open her dresser and jerked the folded clothes out of the drawer. She did not bother to fold them, just shoved it all in her knapsack. The footsteps paused behind her, just outside her room.

             
"Sarah?"

             
She closed her eyes. "Yes, Luke?" She heard him come closer.

             
"Are you okay? What happened? I saw the living room..."

             
She jerked her bag closed and turned to face him. She watched him look her over, before he took in the damage to her room.

             
"What happened?" he asked. He turned his head to stare at her.

             
She shook her head. "I'm not sure, but I need to get out of here." She started to walk around him.

             
"Did you hear what I said downstairs?"

             
She paused at his soft tone. "Yes."

             
"I meant it. I would be happy to take you with me." He lightly grasped her hand and she tried not to twitch. "If you don't mind."

             
She heard the question. Her mind spun over everything she had learned and her head began to ache. She nodded.

             
"Just for a couple days. If it's no trouble." He didn't reply and she peeked up at him.

             
He grinned. "No trouble, at all." His smile faded, as he looked at her.

             
She raised an eyebrow, at the hand he held out toward her. When his fingertips grazed her cheek, she flinched violently.

             
"What happened?"

             
She looked away, staring at the floor. "Fell."

             
He hummed thoughtfully.

             
"Can we go?" she whispered.

             
He nodded. "Whenever you're ready."

             
She raised her head. "I'm ready now."

...

              "I apologize, I don't usually have guests."

             
Sarah stared at the large guest suite and shook her head. Her eyes moved over the beautiful room, taking in everything from the glistening hardwood floor to the bed draped in plum and purple.

             
"The last person to stay with me was my cousin. She had a thing for purple."               Sarah glanced at him in time to catch the end of his grimace.

             
"It's beautiful." She smiled, when he visibly relaxed.

             
"Great!" He looked around. "Everything you need should be in the bathroom or the closet." He paused and scanned her. "Do you have any other clothes?"

             
Sarah looked down at herself. "Not many. Why?"

             
He tapped his chin. "I think Megan left some clothes here. They should be about your size."

             
"Your cousin?"

             
He nodded. "She's almost sixteen, but she wore a small until a couple years ago. I think her older clothes will fit you."

             
Sarah nodded. "Thank you."

             
"I'm just glad to help." He stared at her.

             
She shifted her bag on her shoulder and looked around.

             
"Okay. Well, I'll leave you to get settled then," he said in a rush.

             
She watched him leave and let out a slow breath. She let her bag slide down her arm to thump onto the floor. Her eyes wandered the room and landed on the bathroom.               The closet door next to it was open just enough to show the outline of clothes on hangers. She tilted her head to the side and shrugged.

             
The closet light came on automatically when she stepped inside. The right wall held an assortment of tops and bottoms. Far more clothing than she had ever owned in her life. The back wall was filled shelves. Shoes, purses, and various colorful accessories covered every inch of space. She frowned and wiggled her toes inside her boots. Her eyes moved to her left.

             
Dresses in every color crammed the bar along the wall. Sarah took a step back from the dizzying sight. She jerked her eyes away. She quickly grabbed a shirt and a pair of drawstring sweatpants and shoved the closet door closed. She stepped into the bathroom and paused. Her eyes moved from one shining white surface to another.

             
She pushed the door closed and leaned against it. The bathroom counter was made out of white stone with thin veins of gold. She started to set the clothes on it, but thought better of it. She set them down on the bench beside the door. A large, round bathtub filled the center of the room, and she walked around it to reach the shower.

             
She stood outside the glass shower wall and frowned. She leaned forward and peeked through the left doorway. The glass wall ran between the two doorways. She looked up and, against the opposite wall, half a dozen showerheads pointed at the tile floor. She swallowed hard.

             
A dozen knobs lay in a row on the wall to her left. They appeared to control the shower. She reached out to twist the closest knob. Water shot out of the nearest showerhead. She smiled, until the glass began to fog. She frowned at the intense heat wafting toward her. She tweaked the knob until the fine mist cooled.

             
She toed off her boots and stuffed her socks into them. Her pants and shirt draped over the bench next to the borrowed clothes. She paused and looked down at herself. Her ratty underwear was ready for the trash, but it was all she had. She shifted from foot to foot.

             
Her eyes moved to the door. She took a deep breath and pulled open the bathroom door, to peek around the corner. The room was empty. She raced across the room and dug fresh underwear out of her bag. Her eyes did not leave the bedroom door until she was safe inside the bathroom, again.

             
She stripped off her remaining clothes and stepped into the shower. The warmth made her shiver, and goosebumps popped up all over her body. Her eyes fell closed. The water poured down on her head to flow over her shoulders and down her back. She tipped her head back to let it run down her chest and over her sharp hip bones. She opened her eyes slowly.

             
She studied the bottles on the shelf beside her. Several different kinds of shampoo, soap, and conditioner, filled the small space. She pursed her lips and grabbed a shampoo with a picture of an apple on the bottle. It smelled as advertised. She lathered her hair and piled it up on top of her head out of the way.

             
She hurried through the rest of her washing with a soap that professed to smell like peaches. It was pleasant, but not as nice as the shampoo. She stood under the showerhead and rinsed her hair and body, still smiling at the warmth. She forced herself to step away and turned toward the glass wall. A bath towel hung on a hook just outside.

             
She wrapped it around her body twice and tucked it in under her arm to keep it in place, before she turned back to turn off the water. Her hair fell over her shoulder and she glanced down at it. The deep red appeared darker in the soft light. She gently ran her fingers through the long strands to straighten out the snarls, as she drifted over to the sink.

             
Her eyes slowly rose from the stone basin to stare at herself in the mirror. She trailed her fingertips from her high cheekbone to a pointy little chin. She wrinkled her nose. A light dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose and forehead disrupted her pale skin. She sighed and met her eyes in the mirror.

             
They were not as bright as Farran's. The thought rose to her mind unbidden, but once it was there she could not banish it. His eyes were the lightest jade when he was amused. She smiled. Her own were almost dull by comparison. She shook her head and left the mirror to dress.

             
The t-shirt hung on her loosely, shifting forward to show her collarbones anytime she moved. She shrugged her shoulders and it shifted to the side to show her bra strap instead. She pursed her lips and stepped into the sweat pants. She tugged on the drawstring, until the fabric bunched up around the waistband, but they still hung low on her hips.

             
"Sarah?"

             
She jerked her eyes away from the baggy clothes to stare at the bathroom door.

             
"Sarah?" he called, a little concern creeping into his tone.

             
She pulled open the bathroom door and looked around the bedroom. He knocked on the bedroom door.

             
"Are you okay?"

             
"I'm fine," she called back. She looked down at herself. "You can come in."

             
He paused just inside the room and stared at her.

             
"Is this okay? You said I could borrow something..." she trailed off, uncertain.

             
He blinked, and shook himself. "Oh! No, that's fine. It's just..." He cleared his throat. "You look different."

             
Sarah looked down at herself. "Do I? Oh, because the clothes are a little big." She shrugged and rubbed at her bare arm.

             
He coughed, and muttered what sounded like, "Something like that."

...

              Sarah wandered downstairs in another borrowed outfit. The slim cut jeans fit with the belt she found in the back of the closet. It was cinched tight, with the tail of the t-shirt bunched up along the waistband for added bulk. She found an old hair band under the dresser in the bedroom and used it to pull her hair into a low ponytail. She glanced out the windows she passed on the way to the kitchen.

             
Luke's backyard was still covered in a layer of pristine snow. Red and blue birds circled the birdfeeders along the back fence. She smiled.

             
"Well, you look lovely this morning."

             
She jerked her head around to stare at Luke. He stood in the kitchen doorway, leaning his hip against the doorjamb. His eyes smiled along with his lips. She gave him a tentative smile.

             
"Thank you."

             
His smile widened. "You're welcome. Hungry?"

             
She nodded and watched him walk into the kitchen. She sent another look out the window, before she followed him. The breakfast bar was already set for two. He waved her toward one of the stools.

             
"I made pancakes and sausage. I hope that's okay." He looked over his shoulder at her.

             
Sarah raised her eyebrows. "You didn't have to go to so much trouble. I usually just have cold cereal..."

             
He laughed and turned back to the stove. "Nonsense. You're a guest. Since I hardly ever have those, I figured I might as well use my skills. As lacking, as they may be."

             
Sarah grinned at his self-depreciating tone. "I'm sure you're a better cook than I am."

             
He sent her a warm smile. "I can't imagine you are bad at anything."

             
She felt her cheeks heat and dropped her gaze to the table.

             
"I'm on medical leave until the day after tomorrow. What do you think of spending the day together?"

             
Sarah peeked up at him. "I guess that would be okay."

             
He smiled. "Great. Would you mind handing me your plate?"

             
She quickly handed it over. He piled two pancakes and a few links of sausage on her plate and passed it back.

             
"Is that too much?" he asked, as he filled his own plate.