Recalled (16 page)

Read Recalled Online

Authors: Cambria Hebert

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Recalled
3.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
 

I never did.

 

And now Piper had my card.

 

I told myself I didn’t need that card anymore. Now I had the money and resources to go to that place in the flesh. Maybe I’d buy a house and live there. Maybe I’d never come back to this frozen berg again.

 

“Dex, you still there?” Storm asked.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” I replied, shaking away the memory.

 

“Now that she isn’t too suspicious about you being a body stealer, I figured it’d be easier for you to get closer to her.”

 

“Why was she so suspicious of me in the first place?” I wondered out loud.

 

“I can’t tell you all her secrets!” Storm laughed.

 

“I don’t want to know them. I don’t care where she hides the key to her diary or what color her underwear are.”

 

Storm laughed again. “You so want to know what color they are.”

 

I grinned. Maybe I did.

 

“Well, duty calls. She’s up and moving around.”

 

“Hey, ah, how does she look this morning?”

 

“Alive and kicking,” Storm answered.

 

“She doesn’t look like she’s still beat up from last night?”

 

“Are you worried about her?” Storm practically accused me.

 

“No. I just want to know if she’s weak—you know, to take advantage.”

 

“Ahhh, I got ya. She looks pretty normal to me. You might want to get a plan. Then get a back-up plan.”

 

“Right. I’m working on it.” I agreed; then we both hung up. I pulled the phone away from my ear and saved his number to my contacts in case I needed it again. Vaguely I wondered where he kept a phone if he didn’t have any pockets… or a body to put pants on. Then I wondered how he even dialed the phone. Too many questions this early in the morning.

 

I tossed the phone off to the side and collapsed back onto the pillows. My mind drifted back to the little card with the picture of the beach and the way it looked tucked into the frame of her mirror. It seemed important to her. She put it out where she’d see it every day.

 

And then there were the flowers.

 

She bought him—
me
—flowers and sat them near the card as her own personal memorial. I never once thought anyone would miss me if I died. I kind of liked that someone did. It meant I was more than a drifter, more than just another bum on the street. It meant someone out there thought I was worth caring about.

 

Really, I wasn’t.

 

I told myself if she knew the real me, the me that was trying to murder her, she’d throw away those flowers and that picture real fast. But she didn’t know. And she still had the picture and the daisies.

 

But I was still me.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty

 

“1-800-FLOWERS—Elegant flowers for any occasion.”

 

Piper

 

It wasn’t often that I had a day off. Going in anaphylactic shock wasn’t really a good way to get a day to myself, but hey, I’d take my good fortune where I could. I didn’t feel as bad as I thought, but my muscles did protest when I finally crawled out of bed. Breathing came easily, but I knew better than to push myself. I knew I’d be able to get a doctor’s excuse for missing classes so after a brief debate, I decided to skip.

 

Between recovering from the reaction and the early morning phone call, I really did just want some time to myself. After I called Frankie and invited her to dinner (Hey, if I was going to call off school and work, the least I could do was have some girl time), I took a long, hot shower and then spent some time blow-drying and curling the ends of my hair into loose waves. (I never had time to curl my hair.) I pulled on a pair of black leggings, an oversized purple sweater, and a pair of furry slipper boots before I went into the kitchen for some hot tea.

 

A brief cloud passed by the small kitchen window, but when I turned to look, the sun was back out. After pouring my tea I wandered into the bedroom and put the daisy Dex had given me into a small glass of water. Back in the living room, I sat it on the coffee table and studied it while I drank my tea.

 

The rational part of me said I was being silly for getting so melty over a flower—a flower that technically he hadn’t really given me because I bought it, yet the gesture behind it got to me. No one had ever given me flowers before.

 

I picked up a magazine, determined I wouldn’t sit here and stare at a flower for hours, and began to read. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door and when I answered I was greeted by a man in a fleece coat holding a huge bouquet of white daisies. The exact same kind I bought, except there were more and they were in a sculpted glass vase with a purple satin ribbon tied in a big bow.

 

I gasped a little, wanting to reach out and take them, but I stopped myself, thinking maybe the man was at the wrong door.

 

“Piper McCall?” he asked.

 

“That’s me,”

 

“Delivery for you,” he said and then the vase full of cheerful flowers was in my arms.

 

“Wow, they’re…” My voice trailed away when the man smiled. “Oh, let me get you something,” I said, turning to go into the room.

 

He held up his hand. “It’s already been taken care of. Have a nice day.”

 

And then he was gone.

 

I kicked the door closed and went over to the couch, sitting down, still holding onto the vase. I took a deep breath of the light floral scent and then carefully set the vase down on the table in front of me. The sheer size and volume completely hid the single flower I’d been staring at moments before.

 

There was a simple white card stuck amongst the stems and I plucked it out carefully.

 

Because you shouldn’t have to share. Dex

 

If I’d been a bit melty before, now I was a puddle. I brought the card up to my lips, which curved into a secret smile, and I sat there with a goofy look on my face, staring at the gift. His words from the night he’d given me the single flower replayed through my head.

 

I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing…

 

Hugging the card against my chest, I got up from the couch and went over to the mirror to tuck the card with Dex’s message right above the picture of the beach scene. Both cards were about the same size. Then I went back to the vase and reached around to pull forward the glass with the single flower. After plucking it from the water, I used the mirror to tuck the stem into my hair above my right ear. My slightly curled hair looped around the flower and it looked right at home.

 

I smiled some more. I just couldn’t stop.

 

In that moment I didn’t think about bodies in the morgue or my allergy to peanuts. I didn’t think about what I did and didn’t know about Dex.

 

In that moment, I was just a girl.

 

A girl who got beautiful flowers from a boy.

 

I went back over to the couch, sitting down but reaching out to finger the smooth satin of the large purple bow. I gave up on the magazine and sat there and stared at the flowers until I glanced at the clock and realized I still needed to go pick up dinner before Frankie arrived.

 

I pulled on my coat, wound a white scarf around my neck, and grabbed up my keys. Then I gave the bouquet one last smile before walking out the door.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

I settled on Chinese takeout for dinner—vegetable lo mein, beef and broccoli, hot and sour soup with wantons and egg rolls. Even though I ordered from this place a lot, I still made sure to double-check they didn’t use peanuts or peanut oil in any of my dishes. One reaction was more than enough for me, thank you very much. Before I left, the man at the counter added some extra fortune cookies to the bag. My stomach rumbled as I walked home and I realized it was because I’d forgotten to eat earlier.

 

Had I really been so caught up in those flowers?

 

Yes. Yes, I was.

 

When I got to my apartment door, I placed the bag at my feet and pulled out my keys, but when I inserted it in the lock, I noticed the door wasn’t closed all the way. I didn’t put my keys away. Instead I shifted them, placing the largest key between the first two fingers on my hand, letting the sharp end poke out. It was simple, but it would be an effective enough weapon if someone was in my house.

 

I pushed open the door, holding tight to the keys, all my muscles tense and ready to jump into action.

 

“Who’s here?” I called into the room.

 

I heard a sound from the kitchen and I was about to start yelling for help when Frankie appeared. She took in my raised arm and the key and the determined look on my face and she held up her hands.

 

“Don’t stab me!” Then she began to laugh.

 

My breath made a whooshing noise when I let it out and the keys fell from my grasp. “Holy crap, Frankie! You about gave me a heart attack!”

 

“You’re the one that invited me to dinner then wasn’t even here when I arrived. You’re a very bad hostess.”

 

I laughed and hauled the bag of food in and shut the door, throwing the locks. “I ran out to grab the food.”

 

“I’m starving,” Frankie said, taking the bag from my hand and over to the coffee table, beginning to pull all the boxes out. “That witch I work for about drove me nuts today.”

 

I went into the kitchen to get some plates, napkins, and silverware, and when I came out she had everything out and was already eating the lo mein.

 

“Hey, save some for me!” I cried.

 

“Ya snooze, ya lose.” Then around another mouthful, she said, “Where’d you get the flowers?”

 

I smiled and glanced at the centerpiece of the coffee table.

 

“A fancy car
and
flowers… You don’t stand a chance.”

 

“Are you implying I can be bought?” I said, slightly offended.

 

She lowered the lo mein toward her lap. “I know better than that,” she replied. “But you have to admit it doesn’t hurt.”

 

“I don’t like him for his money, Frankie.”

 

“But you do like him.” It wasn’t a question.

 

I shrugged and reached for the white carton in her hand. She held it out and my hand brushed against hers when I grabbed it.

 

The vision came on fast, strong, and it took over everything else I was seeing and hearing.

 

And then it was gone.

 

But the devastation it left would stay with me forever.

 

“Piper?” Frankie said, pulling me away from the assaulting vision.

 

I pulled away and set the carton beside me on the table. “Sorry,” I mumbled, still caught in the pain of what I saw.

 

“Did you have a vision?” Frankie asked, looking at me with curiosity on her face.

 

I blinked and cleared my throat, forcing what I really felt down deep. “Yeah, but it wasn’t anything big.”

 

“Well, what’d you see?”

 

“You know I don’t like to talk about my visions.”

Other books

Across Five Aprils by Irene Hunt
Criminal Karma by Steven M. Thomas
Sweet Silken Bondage by Bobbi Smith
Ice Runner by Viola Grace
City of Fire by Robert Ellis
The Third Wife by Lisa Jewell