Styx (The Four Book 1)

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Styx (The Four Book 1) Page 14

by Layla Frost


  “He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

  At least, I hope he wouldn’t. But could I blame him if he did?

  “Probably not.” Her voice softened, but she didn’t hold back. “Just be prepared that it’s a possibility, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” Pushing those thoughts aside, I asked, “How are you so accepting of all this craziness? I’m living it, and I have a hard time believing it.”

  “I’ve always been more open-minded about things ever since the lights.” When I remained silent, she started laughing. “Finally! You’re finally ready to admit it was a UFO!”

  “Whoa! I wouldn’t go that far. However, I’m not really in a position to be so adamant, am I?”

  “It only took ten years, but vindication is mine!” She made little grunts and whoops, and I knew she was doing a victory dance.

  “I’m hanging up on you now.”

  “Poor sport. But fine. Promise you’ll call me.”

  Not for the first, second, or even hundredth time, I thought about how lucky I was to have Lula as a best friend.

  I scoffed. “Don’t I always?”

  Touching the screen, I ended the call and headed downstairs. If Nate was going to disappear the next day, I wanted to spend as much time with him as I could. I was determined to pull an all-nighter, which wasn’t that big of a stretch since I was usually up until the middle of the night anyway.

  “Are you hungry?” Nate asked when I stepped into the living room.

  “Starving, but I’m gonna order delivery.”

  “Are you sure? I can cook for you.”

  “I thought we’d relax and watch a movie.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Digging through my impressive collection of takeout menus, I found a Chinese one and ordered before plopping onto the couch.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “Near the kitchen.”

  “That’s what I thought.” I crossed my legs. “Come sit.” There was a subtle cushion shift and then I asked, “How’re you feeling after today?”

  “There weren’t many answers, and yet it’s a lot to process,” he said.

  I couldn’t imagine how overwhelming and frustrating it had to be for him. He must’ve felt like a mouse in a maze where infinite paths were added and there wasn’t even any cheese. I hesitated before my curiosity got the best of me. “What do you think will happen tomorrow?”

  “There are a lot of possibilities—both good and bad.” He chuckled. “If there’s one thing I’ve had to learn, it’s patience.”

  Figuring I’d pushed enough, I grabbed the remote and flicked through the movie choices. Since my body still tingled from his earlier touch, I needed something without romance or sex, but with a storyline that’d distract me. We agreed on a superhero one, which I assumed would do the trick.

  It only took a short time to realize that I’d assumed wrong.

  As the movie played, I remained tense and hyperaware of the man sitting on the couch with me.

  And even more hyperaware of how aroused I was thanks to his nearness.

  When a knock came a little while later, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I quickly stood. “I’ve got it.”

  “You kind of have to,” Nate deadpanned.

  “Right.”

  I got my food and dug in, grateful for the distraction while I tried to talk my libido off the edge. Eating my feelings worked, but as I pushed away the containers, I realized my full belly came at a price.

  Exhaustion hit me hard. Forcing myself off the comfy couch, I paused the movie to put away my leftovers and make a cup of coffee.

  “I thought you said decaf was the work of the devil,” Nate said as I sat back down, curling my feet under me.

  “It is.” I held up my mug that proudly proclaimed I was a lady boss. “This is regular.”

  “At nine at night?”

  Shrugging, I took a sip before setting it on the floor to cool. “I don’t want to fall asleep, so wake me if I do.”

  “Why don’t you want to sleep?”

  I kept my tone light and nonchalant, hoping he wouldn’t see the pain that twisted inside me. “There’s a good chance the important thing Juno saw was you getting your freedom back. You could be gone tomorrow.”

  “Denny—”

  I shook my head quickly, pressing play on the remote. I sat stiffly for a few moments, hoping he didn’t push it. If he talked, I’d likely cry, and it wasn’t how I wanted our last night to go.

  When he remained silent, I slowly started to relax.

  My eyes drifted closed without me even realizing it.

  Nate

  Torture.

  Sitting on the couch with Denny had been fucking torture. I had no clue what’d happened in the damned movie beyond the fact it’d made her inhale softly, laugh sweetly, and talk shit hilariously. Even after she’d fallen asleep, I’d sat there. Watching her. Wanting her.

  Needing her.

  Worried she’d be sore from sleeping on the couch, I’d carried her to bed before reluctantly going outside.

  Walking around the yard, I added repairs to the mental list and checked to make sure everything was safe for Denny. Short of a few hissing stray cats, it was the same as always.

  But it wasn’t.

  Something felt… off. Not wrong, but not right, either.

  I stopped at the fence in her backyard and looked up at the house, trying to see what was different.

  Maybe the witch is in my head.

  With that thought, I started walking again. Only, I wasn’t getting anywhere.

  I ran, pushing myself as hard as I could, but I didn’t move an inch.

  Until I stopped trying.

  All of a sudden, my body was yanked back violently. The world passed in a blur until I was in Denny’s living room.

  No, not again.

  “Please!” I shouted, though the word was warbly and soft. “Don’t give me her, only to trap me back in one place!”

  And then it all went black.

  Denny

  “Denny!”

  My eyes shot open as I bolted upright in bed, panic clawing at me. Heart pounding, I looked around but didn’t see anything wrong. Everything was quiet, but something felt… off.

  Probably a stupid dream.

  Flopping back, my eyes began to close as my heart calmed.

  This is what I get for watching tense action movies before bed.

  Nate.

  The movie.

  Potentially his last night with me.

  My heart sped up again as I jumped out of bed. I was about to run downstairs to find him when I heard a loud thump.

  “Nate?” I whispered. When that didn’t work, I called his name louder, closing my eyes to really focus on his presence.

  Nothing.

  Not until a moment later when I heard glass break.

  “Oh shit. Oh shit.” I felt around my bedside table for my phone, but it wasn’t there.

  Fuck, it must still be downstairs. This! This is why people should still have landlines.

  I weighed my options.

  If it was a thief, they’d picked the wrong house because I had nothing of value. I’d like to assume the barren downstairs would be a good tip-off to that fact, but petty criminals weren’t known for their smarts. If whoever it was decided the upstairs must be where I hoarded my jewels and priceless works of art, I was pretty vulnerable just standing there.

  I could hide under the bed or in the closet, but both left me trapped. Not to mention, the old house’s creaking and groaning would give me away.

  Before I could reach a decision, I just barely heard a faint, “Denny.”

  Nate.

  There was another soft thump before pain radiated from my knees even though I hadn’t moved.

  It’s Nate.

  Someone is here and they have him. I need to do… something.

  Flipping on my bedside lamp, I scanned the room.

  I’m no coward. Scared shitles
s, sure. But not a coward. Mama didn’t raise no punk ass bitch.

  Okay, my mom didn’t raise me, either.

  I suck at being my own hype man.

  Running to my closet, I shoved stuff around before finding the replacement clothing rod I’d kept saying I would install.

  I gripped it like a bat and threw open my door before heading downstairs on shaky legs.

  Please be a harmless stoner. Please be a harmless stoner. Please be a harmless stoner.

  Faking bravery I did not feel, I shouted, “Get out now before you’re batting practice!”

  My words may have been tough, but when I saw the silhouette of a large man in my living room, the shriek I let out was not.

  “I don’t have anything worth stealing,” I said honestly before lying, “and you’re about to find yourself in a world of pain. I know Krav Maga.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  At the familiarity of the conversation and voice, I lowered my makeshift weapon. “Nate?”

  The massive mountain of a man stepped closer, coming into the limited light. Hints of smoke wafted upward before dissipating to leave a corporal man.

  “I think I know what Juno meant about the importance of today,” he said, his voice rough.

  My eyes shot to the clock on my cable box. It was exactly midnight… and officially Halloween.

  “That answers that,” I muttered.

  And then I fainted.

  Chapter Twelve

  Let the Bodies Hit the Floor

  Denny

  CURLING UP ON MY BAY window bench with a mug of hot coffee, I looked down at my phone, unsure where to start.

  After fainting, I’d woken up a few minutes later, sprawled on the couch. Although I was exhausted and groggy, I’d sat up and tried to find out what had happened. Nate was slumped back in the shadows, even more exhausted than me, but he’d shared all he could.

  It hadn’t been much.

  While walking around the yard, unable to fight it, he’d been pulled to the living room. He’d lost his connection to the world entirely before slamming back into his body.

  His real body.

  I’d wanted to see him, but when I’d stepped closer, he’d shifted deeper into the shadows. Muttering something about needing sleep, he’d asked me to go upstairs.

  With all the adrenaline and excitement coursing through me, I hadn’t thought I could sleep, but after a while, I’d crashed.

  When I’d jolted awake a few hours later, I’d jumped from the bed and sprinted downstairs.

  But the house had been empty.

  Nate was gone.

  Pulling up my texts, I shot a quick one to Juno.

  Me: Midnight was eventful. Quick recap- Nate got his body back. Fell asleep without telling me much. Disappeared this morning.

  I hit send and set my phone down, not expecting a response because of the early hour.

  My phone chimed a moment later, proving me wrong.

  Juno: WTF? Gone? Where?

  Me: No clue.

  Juno: That bastard! That stupid bastard!

  I agree.

  Chiding myself for being so selfish, I ignored the ache in my chest and put myself in his shoes.

  Me: I don’t blame him. He’s been stuck here for a while. I’d want a change of scenery, too.

  Juno: If he’s not back by this afternoon, let me know. I’ll hunt him down if I have to. We need answers.

  I was trying to figure out how to respond to that when my phone chimed again.

  Lula: So??? Anything yet?

  Me: Yes. He got his body back. Fell asleep. Now gone.

  Lula: He got his body back?

  Lula: How’d he look?

  Of course that’s what she’d be focused on.

  Me: Big. But I didn’t get close enough to see anything more. He was exhausted.

  Lula: And now he’s gone? Call me, I want to hear everything.

  I hit dial, draining the last of my coffee as it rang.

  “I only have like five minutes before work, but this was so not a text conversation,” she said by way of greeting.

  “Hello to you, too.” I took a deep breath. “Okay, so—”

  “Yes! You know the gossipy part of my brain gets tingly when you start conversations like that.”

  “I know. Okay so, I was sleeping last night and woke up when I heard a bunch of slamming around. I thought someone had broken in, so I ran downstairs.”

  Her voice went high with outrage and worry. “Denny, are you out of your mind? Why don’t you just investigate the creepy noises in the basement and then head up to Make-out Point on the anniversary of that mass murder while you’re at it?” I could picture her shaking her head. “You don’t go running unarmed into danger. You call the cops.”

  “My phone was downstairs,” I said defensively. “And I wasn’t unarmed. I had a clothing rod.”

  “That’s something, I guess.”

  “It beats being a sitting duck.”

  “True,” she relented with a sigh.

  “It didn’t matter anyway because it was just Nate.” I lowered my voice as if he could hear me. “He’s huge. Like, a mountain of a man. Apparently whatever alternate plane he’s been on has an elliptical and weight bench because he looked buff. Even slouched against the wall, he was almost as tall as me.”

  “But you couldn’t see if he’s hot?”

  He totally is. I know it.

  Rolling my eyes at her and myself, I said, “He was in the shadows and didn’t want me close. I’m pretty sure he was sleep talking most of the time.”

  “And now he’s gone,” Lula stated.

  “Yup,” I said, forcing some pep into my tone as I got up to refill my coffee. Although I wasn’t mad about him leaving without saying goodbye, I was sad he was gone. Maybe a little in shock, too. Numb.

  That was a good word for it.

  I was numb.

  “Bummer. I think,” she began, but the rest of her words were lost on me when I stepped into my living room just as my front door rattled and opened.

  Someone stepped in, their back to me as they closed the door.

  “Who’s there?” Lula asked. When I didn’t respond, her tone became panicked. “Is everything okay? Who’s at your house? What’s happening?”

  “It’s Nate,” I muttered distractedly as he turned around to face me.

  Despite my bout of desperation in the dating department, I could be picky. I had a set type and usually went for average height, light eyes and hair, and sweet. I’d gone through my bad boy phase, and while it’d been fun, danger was no longer my middle name.

  It was Nate’s first, last, and middle name, though.

  Towering over me, he was at least six and a half feet. His hair was black, but had strands of midnight blue, gold, and white blond.

  Not gray.

  White.

  The same color as my own.

  The mix of the colors was unlike anything I’d ever seen, and I’d bet people would spend hundreds of dollars to recreate the same look. It hung down past his shoulders, an enviable amount of shine and bounce making me wonder if he’d had access to the world’s best conditioner.

  My fingers twitched as I easily imagined spending hours playing with it, seeing what other colors I could find.

  His face wasn’t traditionally handsome. Definitely not boyish in any way. His nose looked as though it’d been broken and not set correctly, tilting slightly to the side with a small bump on the bridge. The shadows formed by his sharply angled cheekbones gave him an almost gaunt appearance, though he was far from it.

  His lips were mostly hidden in a full beard that, like his hair, had many colors and looked well kept.

  There was no difference between the color of his irises and his pupils. They were not so brown they were almost black. No, they were just black.

  Hauntingly.

  Beautifully.

  Black.

  “Remember what you asked earlier?” I said into the phone.

&nb
sp; Lula made a little squeal. “Is he hot?”

  “Yes. The answer is yes. Hell yes. I’ve gotta go.”

  “Text me a picture!” she yelled as I hung up.

  “I got breakfast,” Nate said, holding up a white bag and an extra-large coffee cup.

  Struck stupidly speechless like a middle school girl, I looked up at him and could only be grateful I hadn’t started giggling.

  This.

  This must be a dream.

  “Are you not hungry?” he asked. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and I think your sink can use a break from those disgusting green drinks you insist on dumping into it.”

  I snapped out of my lust trance. “I’ve been finishing more of them!”

  Giving me a pointed look, he handed me a coffee. “And then you gag.”

  He had me there, so I said nothing. Following him into the kitchen, I took in the impressive view of his track pant covered ass. “Hey, where’d you get the clothes?”

  He stopped suddenly and rotated to face me. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked, but I didn’t want to wake you. I took some of the money from inside the bookshelf.”

  “That’s o—” I started before what he’d said fully sank in. “The huh?”

  I’d assumed he’d grabbed some cash from my purse, which wasn’t a big deal as a one-time thing. I didn’t have enough extra for it to be an everyday occurrence, though.

  “The bookshelf. I went to a twenty-four-hour superstore and purchased clothes before stopping for breakfast.” He set the food down before picking up some fabric. When he held them out, I saw it was a gray tunic top and black capri pants with leather laces in the front.

  I tried to picture him in the outfit but couldn’t. “That’s what you were wearing?”

  “Don’t worry, no one was suspicious. They just assumed I was part of a reenactment.”

  My head was spinning. “I can see that. But that’s what you were wearing this whole time?”

  “I believe so, why?”

  “Clothing is period specific.”

  Jinkies, it’s a fucking clue, Scooby.

  His eyes widened. “That hadn’t occurred to me. Styles change and repeat so often, I stopped paying attention. I’d almost thrown them in the trash after I’d changed.”

  “Don’t! Don’t do anything with them. I’ll take them to someone. A museum or a professor. Or Juno.”

  I’ll take them on The Antiques fucking Roadshow if it gets us answers.

 

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