by Sadie Jacks
There.
I could have sworn my toes moved.
Forcing my attention to the lowest part of my body, I focused on my toes which were painted my customary dark purple. I brought the images of my toes into my mind. I mentally shaped each nail, touched each freckle, traced the length of each digit.
Sweat beaded on my forehead as I concentrated. Panting, exhausted, I was about to give up. To lay here and let death take me.
My big toe curled.
Fuck yeah. I wasn’t some pansy-assed sissy. I was Kiema Freaking Feuer. Suck it, douchewads.
Wiggling my big toe around in circles, side to side, up and down, anything to keep the motion going. Soon my other toes joined in on the fun.
Wanting to get the rest of my body in on the groove-fest, I popped my favorite dance song into my mental player and cranked the volume up as high as it would go.
In my mind’s eye, I watched as my booty bumped and dipped, I swung and sashayed across the room. My feet stomped and my legs twirled. My arms swayed and my fists pumped.
Boom, boom, shake and twirl.
Boom, boom, drop it and lock it.
There we go, girl. Damn, I look good.
Slapping the song on repeat in my head, I danced myself around the invisible room like I’d done millions of times before. This time I didn’t even need to disable the ever-watching cameras that tracked me like I was an experiment.
I was free.
Well, in theory. I was still trapped in my own body.
My right leg and my left arm escaped the weight holding me captive. I shook and waved the limbs that were free. They didn’t move very much, but damn if I didn’t care. I could move them.
I giggled at the idea of the sight I must make to Ransom. With the next thought, I also didn’t give two flying fucks what he was thinking.
Another round of the song, another body part came loose.
I blinked, the familiar room filling my vision. No longer watery and wavery, it was crisp and clear, like looking through brand new eyes.
From my place on the couch, I could see the pits and etches in the stone fireplace. See the pores of the grout. See individual fibers in the wood on the grate.
An awful smell assaulted my nose as I took in the rest of the room with new eyes. Like a bloody battle had been waged and lost, it smelled like the bodies had been left to rot in the sun. It was so thick in the room it coated my tongue, thickened in my throat.
Gagging on the smell, I pushed my face into the cushion.
Bad idea.
It smelled like what I assumed sweaty man-ass, stale sex, and dirty feet smelled like.
Lifting my face, trying to find some clean, fresh air, I toppled off the couch with a thud. Legs and arms weak, I crawled to the windows on the left side of the fireplace.
Even my skin was sensitive. I swear I could feel the grain of the individual hardwood fibers, ground down into softness, pressing against my hands and knees.
Holding my breath against the fetid stench invading my senses, I managed to crawl to the door. Blindly lifting a hand, I managed to hit the handle and fling my hurting body out into sunshine and clean air.
I almost wept as the fresh air cleansed my body, inside and out. I lay on the deck like an acolyte before a goddess, outstretched and prostrate. Letting nature warm and defrost my frozen heavy body, I fell asleep with the sun as my blanket.
Chapter 11 – Ransom
Wiping my lips with the back of my hand, I stood up. An embarrassed smile pulled at my mouth.
Good thing the guys weren’t here to see that one.
I turned on the faucet, leaned down and took a drink from the stream. Swishing the water around in my mouth, I spit it out. Repeating the process until my mouth no longer tasted like vomit.
Getting a good grip on my stomach, I turned and examined what was in the toilet again. I covered my mouth and nose with one hand as I leaned over the edge of the sink.
My brain couldn’t figure out what my eyes were trying to tell me. Whatever Kiema had thrown up was actually pulsing in the water. Like a sluggish heart, it beat and throbbed, causing ripples in the shallow bowl of dirty, chunk-filled water.
There’s no way she could still be alive after throwing up an organ, right? I took my phone from my pocket, switched it to video and took a short shot of…whatever that thing was. I would send the video to Atlas later.
Right now, I needed to check on Kiema.
Closing the bathroom door behind myself, I walked back out into the living room. The loud crack of my shoes on the hardwood floors reminded me once more of the house rules. I resolved to follow every single one. The pretty little healer had saved my life.
A picture of her limp body floated through my mind.
If that was the price she paid for healing, I now fully understood her desire not to be touched. It also explained the standoffish behavior in her parents’ penthouse. I’m not sure I’d get too close to the people I healed knowing they would end up causing me that kind of pain and agony.
But, yet, she’d come. Without question, without hesitation. She’d stepped into the void of my life and bridged the gap between surviving and thriving. She was my black-haired angel.
An angel with rules set up to protect herself.
I toed off my shoes. Picking them up, I took a short detour to my room and tossed them inside, not caring where they landed. I paced back to the couch where I’d left my tired and bruised savior.
She was gone.
“Fuck.”
I looked around the room.
The cushions were askew, one of the pillows thrown on the floor at the foot of the sofa. The shower curtain lay in a pile on the floor like an empty chrysalis.
Birdsong brought my head up and around, much like a predator sensing something in the woods.
I found the door standing open. Kiema and I were the only people at the house. How the hell had it come open if she was passed out cold?
I stalked to the door, fists clenched. Grabbing a lamp from one of the side tables on the way, I ripped the cord from the wall with one harsh tug.
Raising it like a bat, I edged to the door jamb. Looking out into the woods that surrounded the base of the mountains where the cabin sat, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
Yet, anyway.
Ever so slowly, I eased my head around the edge of the jamb. I turned a smidgen to see farther out into the yard.
A splash of color had me looking down at the deck.
Swallowing around the heart that was now lodged in my throat, I set the table lamp down and stepped through the door.
“Aw, angel.” I crouched down beside her prone form. Amazed at the look of pure ecstasy on her face, my groin tightened. I wanted to be the one to put that look on her face.
My jaw firmed. My mind set. She was going to be in my bed before our time together was over. Part of me wanted to keep her. The bigger part of me just wanted in her pants and her bed.
When touching her sends her into fucking seizures? The head on my shoulders reminded me.
I grimaced. The head between my legs demanded we find a solution to that pesky problem.
I pulled my shirt off, needing a barrier between our skin, but unwilling to leave her alone on the deck by herself. I cursed the need for it.
I was hungry to touch her skin. To see if it was as soft as it looked. To run my nose up the long line of her neck, nibble on her ear. Run my lips over her breasts, nip her collar bone.
The tightening in my crotch told me I needed a different line of thought if I was going to help her get back in the house.
I wrapped my hand in my t-shirt and brushed her hair back from her face. The urge to sift the strands through my naked fingers yanked on my self-control. Clenching my teeth, I pulled my hand back as soon as I could clearly see her face.
“Kiema?”
She wrinkled her nose. Damn, but that was cute.
“Kiema.”
Her body twitched. Slowly, she bro
ught her hand up to her face. Raising her middle finger at me with her eyes still closed.
I laughed, loud and husky. She almost died and she’s flipping me off for waking her up. Damn, but I liked her sass. Her father was an idiotic asshole who didn’t know anything about the woman he called daughter. His loss.
“Angel, what are you doing outside on the ground?”
She mumbled something I didn’t catch.
I leaned in a little closer. “One more time. With feeling.”
She wiggled that middle finger at me again.
“Still waiting for that verbal answer.” I goaded her.
“The house stinks.”
My brows knit. The house smelled fine to me. The bathroom was a different story, but she shouldn’t have been able to smell that from the living room.
“What does it smell like?”
“Blood, swamp ass, and old sex.”
One of my eyebrows winged up in surprised confusion. Those wouldn’t have even made it on the list of things I smelled in the house, let alone the living room where she’d been laying down.
“So you dragged yourself out here because it smells better than the house?”
She nodded, her face still squished against the deck.
Turning on my heels, I surveyed the gigantic house. There were windows almost every two feet. If I could open them, I might be able to get the house aired out enough for her to come back inside.
With my t-shirted hand, I ran my fingers down her cheek.
She recoiled.
I flinched as I berated myself. What the fuck did you think would happen, asshole? She almost died because she touched you. Just because you want to get better acquainted doesn’t mean she does. Get your fucking head on straight.
Shaking my head, I rose to my feet and stretched my arms over my head. I had to give it to her: The sun did feel good against my skin. Inhaling deeply, I took a moment to luxuriate in the soft heat.
Kiema sighed near my feet.
I looked down. Her eyes were open. And her gaze was tracing my body.
“Look as much as you want, angel.” We’re going to get very well acquainted later.
Middle finger waving once again, she smiled. With another sigh, she closed her eyes and seemed to melt into the deck.
I walked into the house and climbed the stairs to the left of the door. I’d get as many windows and doors open as possible so she could come back inside.
Chapter 12 – Kiema
I woke up on the couch again. Damn man moved me around like I was a mannequin.
Dusk had fallen, the looming shapes of the trees just on the border of the yard stiff fingers spearing into the sky.
When I was a kid, I’d been afraid of them. I thought something was trying to rise up from under the ground to come capture me.
As an adult, I wished a mythical beast would come capture me, spiriting me away from the hell of my life. Those monsters had to have been better than the ones I called Mother and Father.
“Shit!” Ransom said from somewhere behind me.
I pushed myself up on one arm, looked over the back of the couch. “What are you doing?”
“You’re awake!”
“No, I’m not. You’re hallucinating.” I laid back down.
“Wait, wait, wait. Are you feeling better? Does the house still stink like sweaty man-ass?” He leaned over the back of the couch into my line of view.
“Yes, I’m feeling better. Yes, the house still stinks,” I said, my tone flat.
He snorted. “I think I am hallucinating. Go back to sleep.”
I chuckled softly. “The house does smell better. How did you manage that?”
A smile pulled at his mouth, it looked more like a frown from my upside-down vantage point. “I opened all the windows.”
I widened my eyes. “Damn. That’s a lot of windows.”
“You aren’t kidding.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t get the ones in your suite though. So I have no idea what it will smell like in there.”
“I’m sure it will be fine.” He wasn’t going in those rooms, ever. I’d deal with whatever stank was in there on my own. “Thanks for opening the house though.” I tried to dig that steel spike out of my ass, but I wasn’t sure I could trust this new, open Ransom.
“No problem. You ready to eat?” He patted his belly. “I’m starving and was getting some cheesy noodles around. I found some sausage and cut it up to go with it. There’s more than enough if you’re hungry.”
I did a body scan. My stomach still felt queasy. “I think I’ll just have some bread or crackers.”
He nodded. “I’ll get you a plate.”
I got up from the couch, pulling the blanket around my shoulders. He’d put a blanket over me. Damn it. I needed him to stay the asshole. I wasn’t sure I could resist nice Ransom.
“Thanks,” I called. My bladder told me I hadn’t gone pee in way too long. “I’ll be right back.”
“Make sure you wash your hands,” he called without even looking up.
Turd. I chuckled mentally as a plan developed.
I came back out, made a big show of washing my hands at the kitchen sink. Fast like a cobra, I slapped them on his shirt. Huge wet spots formed in the shape of my hands. I finished drying them on a towel.
He looked down at his chest, looked back up, scowled at me.
I laughed.
“That wasn’t what I had in mind.”
“If you’re giving orders, you should have been more specific. Not my fault you’re not a good director.”
He opened his mouth, shut it. His eyes and smile were dark and sexy. “I’ll remember that.”
I gave him a crisp nod, ignoring the innuendo. “Make sure you do.” I settled in the corner chair closest to my suite. The salted crackers were open and sitting next to an empty plate and full glass of water.
I smiled. “Thanks.”
He dipped his head and took his own seat.
We ate in silence.
I hadn’t gotten to eat a meal with anyone since my last ritual. It was nice. Even without talking. Getting to be near someone else, to hear them breathing, I didn’t feel so alone.
“So how did you determine your rules for the rituals?” he asked after a while.
My head tilted to the side. No one had ever asked me that before. “I’m not sure. The no touching one my parents gave me as a child after I’d been assessed. They thought I had some kind of seizure disorder.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t doubt it from how you responded after you threw up. I was afraid you were going to keel over.”
“So eloquently put, Mr. Kolefni,” I said with a laugh.
He looked up at me quickly, studied my face. Eventually, he gave me a laugh in return. “Yeah. Sorry. It did freak me out though.” His cheeks lost some color as he got quiet, his eyes slightly unfocused.
“I’m sorry about that.” I reached out a hand across the counter. I stopped myself. What the hell am I doing? I pulled my hand back, set it in my lap.
He shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He set his fork on the table. Rubbed his belly. “I’m feeling a little weird.”
“Weird how?” I held my breath. Had something gone wrong while I was inside his spirit landscape?
“I can’t really explain it. Not good, not bad, but…off.” He rubbed his hands down his legs. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”
He got up, looked at me. “Goodnight, Kiema.”
I smiled. “Night, Ransom.”
He nodded and turned towards his rooms.
I continued to sit at the counter, relishing having something in my sensitive stomach. Something had been different about Ransom, but, for me at least, it was the feeling I got from him. I didn’t feel like he’d designated me as Enemy Number One. Not for now anyway. Something I’d done moved me off the Hated list.
I sighed. Here’s hoping it lasted the remaining nine days.
Chapter 13 – Ransom
I pushed through the do
ors to my suite. I hadn’t been lying to Kiema. There was something going on in my body, but it wasn’t something I was familiar with.
Crossing the few steps to the oversized bed, I fell face down, my feet hanging off the end.
The whole day ran through my mind again. If Kiema reacted to every healing like she did today, I don’t know that I would want her magic. The cost/benefits didn’t really add up in my mind. But then again, I’d been called a cold-hearted bastard by more than a few exes.
I laughed and curled up on my side. My legs and chest felt like they were growing, almost like the growing pains I got when I was younger. I looked at my legs and arms.
Nothing looks different.
I pushed the weirdness from my mind. I’d deal with whatever happened in the morning.
Other than the weirdness, I honestly haven’t felt this good in my entire life. I wanted to tell the guys, but didn’t want to raise their hopes in case this was just a false positive. They deserved better than that from me.
Hell, all of them were better men than me anyways. I wouldn’t lead them down this path if I didn’t know it would finally, completely help them.
As I lay there, I let myself wonder what living, truly thriving, would look like in my life. I laughed softly. I’m not sure anything would change except not being wracked with pain every fucking day.
None of us had thought we would make it this far. Well, Saint had, but I swear that motherfucker had precognition of some kind. I was living a life I’d always dreamed of as a kid. Reality though was so much better than my childhood fantasies. This time, I built my company instead of it being handed one. We built it, I should say. I definitely couldn’t have done it without the others.
As I drifted off to sleep, Kiema’s face popped into my mind. Usually I would’ve had her under me in some kind of sex fantasy as soon as I saw her, even if only in my mind. This time though…this time I pulled the mental image of her closer, curled it around me. Tucking my face into the space between her neck and shoulder, I fell asleep.
Chapter 14 – Kiema