The Risen: Dawning (26 page)

“It ain’t reached that yet.” He chuckles. “She’s not you Hells. You have taken all of this with a giant middle finger to them. They don’t know you like I know you though. If I held my arms out right now, you’d fight me on it. You’d fight me even if I forced them around you, but deep down, you want it.” His voice drops, and for a few moments of silence between us, he proves how right he is.

J.D. holds his arms out to me in this dark, silent hallway. All I need to do is take two steps to him, and I will have the comfort I need. The arms of the only “Father” to have ever held me, giving me comfort.

I will have a warm chest to hide against and strong arms to hide my pain. I could listen to his heartbeat, with its solid rhythm, chasing away my doubts. I could drown in his very male scent to ease down the girl in me. None of it happens. I stay leaning against the wall staring at him.

“A man won’t go where he is not needed Hells. You want them back? Show them you need them.” He stands there, still holding out his arms to me in a silent war of my will.

Ashley told me that I had to live for them. I had to keep fighting because they needed me. Now as I lean here, staring at the invitation before me, my heart beats a different truth. It terrifies me.

I go to him, those two steps feeling like miles, until I find myself resting against his chest. His arms wrap around me, holding me close. His head rests on the top of mine as he holds me, allowing me to nestle against him with my need for human contact.

“You’re not weak, Helena. Allowing someone to see behind those high walls of yours, doesn’t make you weak. We all need to be reminded where home is now and again. It doesn’t make you weak. You remember that. Only the lonely are weak, Girl.” He whispers this into the top of my hair as he holds me.

I have no idea how to tell J.D. that if this is true, then I am the weakest person he knows at this moment.

O
ver breakfast, Simon had asked me to join them for dinner that night. The idea of eating with him was only a tad bit less depressing than eating another meal alone. That tad was enough to have me accept. Now as I am sitting here with Simon, Dolph, Richard, and Ross, across from me, I am rethinking the exact measurement of a “tad”.

“We need to fix this. The lines are being drawn more between us everyday.” I listen to Richard. Literally, I am just listening. If they want conversation from me, then they will have to talk about something I have a care about. Fixing their male drama, is not one of those things.

I do look behind me to where J.D. sits with the rest on either side of him. They are seated along one side of a long table directly behind ours in their dark leather vests. With each group of men sitting in this style, they appear to be matched up for a standoff. All it needs is for one group to start snapping their fingers or to start dancing to be any more comical. Who’s bad?

“You seem to be the only one willing to work on this.” Simon says and I have to smile at that idea. “You told Shelia all that is needed is some form of apology. What kind of apology?”

“Want me to put together a list?” I ask them. I am met with eye rolls, and sighs, except for Dolph. He smiles at my boldness.

“Is there anything, at all, that you can think of?” Richard asks me. He is almost pleading with me to help them. I wonder what those naughty boys behind me have been doing.

“The only thing they understand is revenge for things like this. A fruit basket isn’t going to do it.” I answer them honestly. They sit staring at me, waiting for a better example.

“You hurt their own. They want yours to hurt. Whatever it is they are doing to have you here begging for my help, they won’t stop till one of you gets bloody.” I answer them, more honestly, watching the male light blubs go off one by one. It’s so pretty.

“…and if we agree to this, will they stop this bullshit?” Dolph asks me with his southern drawl coating his doubts of my words.

“I don’t know what bullshit they are doing, but normally, yes, it stops it.” I watch their faces shadow with different emotions until they each nod in agreement. Everything from fear to resignation flashes before me.

“Fine, tell them one hour in the gym. Their three against our three. We will keep it low key so as to not alarm the other residents. The deal is though, whatever happens settles it, and stays in the gym.” Simon says gathering up the trays. He does not look as confident as his voice sounds.

“Just three?” I am looking to Ross who has been sitting silent the whole meal with a silent question for their number.

“Just three. They will kill him if given the chance. I am not into murder.” Simon hears the trap shut as soon as the words leave his mouth.

I heard myself say it before I said it, and I still could not stop it. “Since when?”

I turn from them to once again play messenger. Last time though, I had others with me. Now, I walk to their table alone as they watch me. It makes me miss their blank faces.

“I find it amusing they keep sending you to deliver their messages.” Rhett says to me as I stand across from him.

“I always meant to talk to you about your idea of comedy.” I place my hands behind my back to hide how hard I am shaking from his direct attention.

“I find it funny you keep doing it, too.” Rhett is staring right into me. He is a predator, and he can smell my fear.

“Want to know what else I find funny?” He asks me. His voice holds no warmth for me. It is a deathtrap of an ambush just waiting for me to step closer.

“Not really.” My honest answer brings a smile to his lips. It is not his playful smile though. He is enjoying that he won this round. I like our other game better.

“What do they want, Barbie?” J.D. raises his voice, trying to save me from anymore of Rhett’s attention. I watch Rhett physically retreat upon hearing our leader’s voice but his eyes never leave me. Like an animal in a zoo that has been caged too long, he watches me waiting for another chance to attack.

“They want you to meet them in the gym in one hour.” My words bring me further into all of their attention.

“Your three against theirs. They want it done secretly so it will not draw a crowd. Whatever happens, happens, and it is done between you and them. It stays in the gym.” I continue keeping my eyes only for J.D.

“What, like Vegas?” Rhett asks, and finally I see his normal smile. My hands slow their constant moving just a fraction.

“Except this is going to be a lot better than Vegas.” Lawless’ voice dances with his own smile. My hands speed back up when I hear him. “What of Ross?”

“Just Simon, Richard, and Dolph.” I answer his question, but I still keep my eyes on J.D.

“Figures.” Marxx voices the same disappointment the whole table is feeling.

“…and you?” Lawless looks to me. “Which side are you going to be on tonight?”

I stare at him, this man I have been locked in an emotional war with for what feels like years, and I wonder if I am ever going to understand him. “I will be on whichever side of my bed tonight I am on when it happens. This is your fight. Not mine. I stopped fighting a long time ago.”

“I know.” I hear him tell me as I am leaving the room. His voice is dangerously deep and it makes me want to add a few extra steps to my retreat. J.D.’s words dance through my mind, and I cannot believe what I am about to do.

“Give me something to fight for, Law.” I tell him, letting him hear the full weight of my desire in my voice. I mentally hi-five myself, but I do not turn back to glance behind me. Baby steps here people. Baby steps.

I find myself unable to sleep with so many of my thoughts chasing it away. A stronger person would just admit to being nervous about what is happening two floors below me. With just the darkness and me in the room, I do not have to be strong. The darkness, with its coal black coldness, shields me. It steals my whispered secrets, smothering them within itself. Like a documented diary of my regrets and yearnings, any sleepless, crying nights it keeps private between us. The darkness has become my lullaby, and eventually it sings me to sleep despite my nerves.

I wake suddenly, from a dream that I am happy to escape, when I feel my cot sinking lower behind me. I freeze, waiting for my senses to give me a hint at what is happening in my panic.

“Your knife is on the floor. Not the best place to keep it if you were to need it.” His voice only stirs more panic inside me. “I’d appreciate it, if you would let me know now, if you have any stolen guns hidden under that pillow though.”

I roll onto my back to stare at Lawless sitting behind me. In the darkness, I can only see his shape, but I would know that voice in the darkest of nights.

He sits silently with his back to me, letting the darkness hide him. Each silent moment is stealing more of my breath being so close to him.

“We need to talk.” His voice finally comes and I startle with it after the room having been silent for so long. I can see his head turn to me with its outline in the darkness. I feel his fingers trace my face with soft patterns. My body betrays me after being starved from his touch for so long. I can hear my breathing quicken with his gentle touch.

“I miss you, too.” He tells me, answering my body’s response to him. His lips touch my forehead, hesitantly placing a kiss.

“I’ll give you whatever you want Helena. You just have to let me know what it is.” Lawless whispers against my flesh. I shiver from the hidden meaning of his words. He leans in closer with my body’s invitation. His mouth trails hotly against my neck, quickening his own breath with the taste of me on his tongue.

“For you not to stick your dick in other people.” I whisper, answering his question, and pouring cold reality upon his body’s lustrous hopes.

I feel him retreat from me with such force it makes the cot shake. His entrance may have been silent, but his retreat is not. Every step that takes him from me echoes in the room around us with his anger. His slamming of the door vibrates the room with it.

I take another bite from my poisoned apple, listening to his fading footsteps retreating back to the room he now shares with Aimes, and the juices coat my tongue and throat. It burns me with its wickedness and my loneliness is the resulting effect it has. I lay in the darkness, listening to their muffled voices rise and fall like the tides. There is no moon giving their waves strength. It is the force of their emotions that carry their voices forward before lulling them again.

I know from the pitch in her voice that she is trying to talk him down from whatever crest he is reaching. I listen to her voice seep through the wall that separates our rooms and wonder what honeyed words she is feeding him. Is she convincing him of my wicked ways? Is she baiting him with her fragile sense of self, snuggling up to him for comfort? Is he offering her what he was so ready to offer me just moments ago? The only real question is, do I have the strength to discover any of these answers?

Right now, no, I do not. So I let sleep take me again with the taste of my poison still on my tongue, sweeter than candy, and as deadly as arsenic.

I
watch the dawn from my window instead of the table across from Marxx. I do not feel like listening to any more pep talks, or lectures, about how I should be doing things. Nor do I have any interest in eating another meal watching the many happy groups around me. Instead, I sit on my window’s edge watching life flow below me. I am woman; watch me pout.

I heard each of my former family members go past. I listened to their words, and happy voices, as it filled me with only more emptiness. I know that one day I will be strong again. It is just not today. Today I want nothing more than to hide from all the many requests and stares. I want to hide from my many memories that stalk me, reminding me of better days. Not that it is what is going to happen. It is just what I want.

I hear the door open behind me, and in the window’s reflection, I see Aimes leaning against its frame. If this is any hint as to what the rest of the day is going to be like, I am just going back to bed now. I will tie a sheet into a white flag and hang it from my doorway.

“Anything else you want to say to me?” Her voice is itching for a fight. I am tempted to give it one.

“Nope.” Tempted, not willing.

“I don’t believe you.” She stands her ground, edging up to her anger.

“I figured that out by how you are half hiding in the hallway.” I call her bluff, removing her bravado. It steals the courage for her to continue in her half-hearted attempt of a fight.

We stare at each others reflection in the window. Its thick glass dulls the colors, casting us both in a grey wash of shades. Nothing seems to be as vivid as it once was between us.

“Is this your new plan? Are you just going to hide out like a spoiled brat?” Her bravery is growing again with my ignoring her.

“The victim role seems to be taken already. I wonder, are you out there alone even right now? No constant bodyguard of the men you used to hate so? It really is amazing how fast you flip your opinions these days.” I watch her shrink with each of my words. If I had a screen print tee shirt right now it would read “Bring It”.

“That’s not fair.” She crosses her arms, cradling herself under my direct attention. “You turned your back on me. What was I supposed to do?”

“That is what everyone so loves to point out to me. What were
you
supposed to do? You, who just had to push that extra little bit for your own satisfaction. You, who is always so protected, and sheltered from the world. You, who always seems to land on her feet while the rest of us fall to our knees. Yes, what were
you
supposed to do?” I let my anger finally find a release.

“How about not question others loyalties when you so easily can walk away from them too? How about not sleep with the only man that has ever meant anything to your friend? How about, just once, stand on your own and not need someone else to hold you up?” I watch her cringe from each question. It brings me no joy, or remorse.

“I didn’t. We aren’t, Hells. You should know that.” Her voice is as broken as she looks.

“Tell me Amelia, did you sleep alone last night? Have you slept alone any night since this all started? Do you feel safe in his arms? Does his body next to yours in the morning give you the strength to keep going? Do you feel any guilt at all over being so wrapped up in their support?” I stare at her waiting for any answer she gives me.

“You might not be fucking him, but you have taken my place just the same. You can paint it any way you want, with whatever brush you desire. Tell yourself whatever you need. You know the truth, and exactly what that truth is. At least Leslie was honest in what she was doing. You think that by wrapping it up in female frailty forgives it. It doesn’t. It makes it worse. Now get out.”

She pauses for a moment before closing the door. “I talked to him Hells. I gave him a chance to explain things. You should, too. He misses you.”

She closes the door on my many replies that I bite back. I know that every word I have already given her, she will share with them as it is. Soon, my room will fill with men and their stares telling me how I have once again been naughty. It presents me with two choices. I can sit here hiding, waiting for them to find me, or I can go out there daring them to find me. I never was one to make life easy for people. If they want me, they will have to find me. Mostly, I do not want to be waiting for Rhett. I do not like our new games.