by L.H. Cosway
I stiffened and glanced across the room. Sally wore her usual sneer, but Kean looked apologetic. “Shut up,” he said to Sally, kicking her leg under the table. “Estella’s all right.”
Sally’s cheeks went bright red, her eyes downcast, and something suddenly occurred to me. She had a crush on Kean. Was that why she hated me so much? No, she’d had it out for me long before Kean and I ever spoke.
“Sounds like he’s still holding a candle,” Noah said, eyebrows raised.
I gave him a pointed look. “He can hold whatever he wants. I’m not interested.”
How could I be when you take up ninety percent of my waking thoughts?
Noah smiled in a way that made my knees weak. It was a good thing I was sitting down.
“I have an idea,” he said. “Let’s take this pizza to go.”
15.
Noah had his waiter friend box up our pizza, then he drove us out to the harbour. It was late evening, so there weren’t many boats coming and going. Looking out to sea, I felt a small measure of calm, and my appetite returned. We climbed the high wall that surrounded the harbour and sat with our legs dangling over the edge as we ate.
“So, what are you going to do about your fanboy?” Noah asked, nudging me with his shoulder.
I glanced at him. “You mean Kean? Nothing to do. He’s … whatever.” I said, making an annoyed hand gesture.
“He’s … whatever,” Noah mimicked, and I gaped at him, a grin tugging at my lips.
“Did you just do an impression of me?”
“What if I did?” he shot back in a voice that was freakily similar to mine.
“Oh, my goodness, stop. You’re freaking me out.” I swiped at his shoulder.
He chuckled impishly, and I studied him. His personality was an odd dichotomy of man and boy. Sometimes I saw the world-weariness of a person who’d lived a hundred lifetimes in his eyes, and then others he seemed like a mischievous little kid, just now especially.
“I forgot how good you are at accents. I guess that goes for impressions, too.”
He smirked. “I’m pretty sure I can be good at a lot of things.”
A heat warmed my cheeks, and I glanced away, changing the subject. “What’s been going on in the world of Aleksy anyway?”
Noah blew out a breath. “I packed the bartending in when I got the job with Mayor McBride, so Aleksy’s been retired for a bit.”
“That’s too bad,” I said, an attempt to flirt. “The Polish accent suits you.”
He lifted an eyebrow, like my comment surprised and intrigued him. “Oh yeah?” He slipped into Aleksy’s accent effortlessly. “You like a bit of the old Aleksy, do you?”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll have to talk like this more often,” he said, leaning in close.
“Okay, stop now. It’s too weird how believable you are.” Besides, I thought to myself, his real voice would always be my favourite.
He gave an amused laugh and picked up his slice of pizza, taking the last few bites.
“Thanks for the phone by the way,” I said. I’d been meaning to thank him for a while, but whenever I was around him I got distracted and forgot.
“You’re welcome. If there’s anything else you need, just ask.”
Wow, that was nice of him. “I think the phone is more than enough. I know you spent a lot more on it than what I gave you. I’ll pay you back.”
He waved me off. “No need.”
“I insist.”
He cast me a speculative glance. “You can help me with tomorrow night then.”
“You mean with the get together you’re throwing for all your parents’ old friends?” He nodded. “What do you need help with?”
“The food, mainly. I can’t cook for shit. I’ll take care of the booze.”
“In that case, we better stop off and get some groceries on the way home.”
“That can be arranged.”
We finished eating and made our way back down the wall. Noah put his hands to my waist, lifting me the final few feet before settling me on the ground. I flushed at the intimate touch, remembering his words from back in the restaurant.
I’m the only one who gets to touch you.
Barely suppressing a shiver, I followed him back to where he’d parked the car.
***
When Dad and I first moved into Vee’s house, one of my favourite things to do was hide inside the dumbwaiter. I was fourteen, way too old for hide and seek, but I still got a kick out of sneaking in and waiting for my dad to walk by. I’d jump out, and he’d clutch his heart in fright, then we’d laugh about it while Vee shook her head at my childish antics.
She’d never been particularly caring or fond of me while Dad was alive, but she hadn’t been outright cruel. Not like she was now. Maybe I was too much of a reminder of the husband she lost.
We looked so much alike with the same thick brown hair and wide brown eyes.
Guilt tugged at my chest as I prepared a large charcuterie board for Noah’s get-together tonight. I couldn’t seem to rid myself of thoughts of Vee, her presence as she hid away up in her room could be felt all around the house. It was a heavy, oppressive sense of bleakness. I felt an odd lack of anger towards her now, and I didn’t know why. Maybe because she just seemed so lost.
I should try harder to help her.
The worst she could do was tell me to eff off, that she didn’t want my help. My dad had loved her, so she must’ve had some redeeming qualities.
I put a few crackers, cheese and grapes on a plate, filled a glass with water and warily made my way upstairs to her room. Her isolated behaviour of late was concerning. Even Sylvia got out and about more, and she was confined to a wheelchair.
I knocked twice, then waited. A muffled voice asked, “Who’s there?”
“Estella,” I replied. “I brought you something to eat.”
A long silence fell, then croakily she said, “Come in.”
I opened the door and stepped into her room, trying not to wince at the smell. It reeked of booze and body odour. Vee clearly hadn’t been showering, and I suspected the windows hadn’t been opened in days either. She sat up in bed, wrapped in her housecoat, looking even paler and thinner than ever. Her hair was greasy and limp; damp strands of it stuck to her forehead. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was sick with a really bad flu.
But no, this wasn’t the flu. The empty bottles littering the room could attest to that.
“Who’s been bringing you all this?” I questioned as I set the food and water down on her nightstand. She stared at me, glassy-eyed, like she didn’t care about anything anymore. I knew the feeling. Sometimes, when I got really down about Dad, I felt like I just wanted to fall off the face of the planet and disappear. Then I wouldn’t have to exist and feel the pain of missing him.
“I put a little extra in Irene’s pay packet,” Vee answered, uncaring.
“Irene’s been bringing you alcohol?” I questioned in shock. I didn’t think she was the type to enable Vee like that.
“She’s not happy about it,” Vee gave a joyless cackle. “But I threatened to fire her if she didn’t.”
I frowned and folded my arms, not one bit surprised that Vee had resorted to blackmail to get what she wanted. She stared at the plate of crackers and cheese, then picked up a grape and popped it in her mouth. Of course, she’d select the one thing closest to booze.
“Why are you here, Estella?” she asked, suspicion written all over her face. I had no ulterior motives. I was simply trying to be a good person, to practice the teachings of the faith I believed in so dearly.
“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” I replied.
“Are you quoting the Bible at me now?” Vee scoffed. “You really are your father’s daughter. He thought he could save me, but we were both doomed.”
“You weren’t doomed,” I countered, while at the same time a voice in my head questioned, were they?
Vee gave a derisive snor
t. “Bad luck has followed me since the day I was born. Your father believed the same thing. That’s how we bonded. We could never outrun the dark shadows chasing us. In the end, they caught up to your dad. They’re taking their time with me, though. Your father was a good man, so he got a quicker death. Me? I’ll be forced to suffer every second of those shadows draining the life from me.”
I was well acquainted with my dad’s belief that he was cursed. The logical part of my brain refused to believe it, despite all the evidence. He’d never described it like Vee did though. I’d never heard him talk of shadows. A shudder went through me.
“All life is suffering,” Vee went on. “You don’t know it yet, but you’ll soon realise I’m right, because the shadows never stop. They swallow up everything in their path, and once they finally got your father, they set their sights on you.”
I grew cold at her words. I didn’t know why I was listening to her prattle on like a madwoman, but her toxicity was infectious. My mind began to race. Little trickles of doubt seeped in as I wondered if she was right. What if my dad’s curse really had been transferred onto me, and I just didn’t realise it yet?
No. Stop. You’re letting her get to you.
Vee was an alcoholic and a depressive. Perhaps even a sociopath. I needed to stay logical and true to myself. I could help her out of the slump she was in, ensure she wasn’t left to wallow and waste away in this room, but I didn’t need to listen to her.
“Keep eating,” I said as I turned and headed for the door. “And please drink some water, too. You need it. I’m going to run you a bath.”
She didn’t argue as I left her room and went into the main bathroom to start a bubble bath. Vee was in desperate need of a wash, and I couldn’t stand to leave her lying in her own filth any longer, even if she had locked me out of the bathroom that one time. Fighting fire with fire would burn the world. The same thing could be said for cruelty. Having the courage to be kind in the face of it was the only thing that could stop its spread.
I sat on the edge of the tub, watching the water rise. My mind kept wandering back to Dad’s curse. Every time I thought of it my entire being filled with dread. I was almost done with school, so close to freedom that the idea of being chased by some invisible, malevolent force had me breaking out in hives.
The bath was full now. I turned off the tap, then sat back, staring off into nothingness for long moments. The bathroom was large, with an ornamental clawfoot tub. Faded, mould infested grandeur that harkened back to a time when the house was first built. I wondered what the wealthy, well-to-do family who first lived here was like. Had they been cursed through the generations, too, or was it a more recent thing?
I was so lost in thought that I didn’t hear the door open. Noah didn’t see me either, since I was half obscured by the shower curtain. I only became aware of his presence when he unzipped his pants to take a piss. I froze, too embarrassed to make a sound as he peed right there with his back to me. Then, a squeak escaped me. He jolted and turned around, swearing under his breath when he saw me sitting there.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Estella, are you trying to give me a heart attack? What are you doing in here?” he questioned as he tucked himself back into his pants.
My mouth opened, but no words came. Finally, I swallowed and said, “I was running a bath for Vee.”
He stared at me; his expression was incredulous as he started to laugh. “Well, a little heads up would’ve been nice. You didn’t have to just sit there watching me.” He flushed the toilet and went to wash his hands.
“By the time I realised you were in here it was too late,” I said, cheeks aflame. I tried not to think about the fact that I’d almost seen his penis.
He lifted both eyebrows. “How did you not see me?”
“I was lost in thought.”
He dried his hands and took a step closer, eyes wandering over me. “You okay?”
I sighed. “Not really. Vee’s in a bad state. Did you know she’s been blackmailing Irene into bringing her alcohol? That’s how she’s been managing not to leave her bedroom.”
His expression hardened. “I did not know that.”
“I think you might want to cancel your thing tonight. Having a bunch of people in the house right now might not be the best idea. I’m scared Vee’s going to give herself alcohol poisoning.”
Noah rubbed his jaw, looking perturbed as he came to perch on the other end of the tub. “I’ve been so busy with this job I haven’t had time to keep an eye on her.” A pause as he glanced at me. “Exactly how bad is she?”
“Very bad. She looks like she hasn’t bathed or changed her clothes in over a week.”
Several thoughts passed behind his eyes. “Why are you taking care of her?”
I shrugged. “Because nobody else will.”
“I will,” he said fervently. He actually seemed guilty that he hadn’t noticed how bad Vee’d gotten.
“We can take care of her together then,” I suggested.
He nodded, his attention going to the bathwater. “You’ll have to empty this out and run it again. Vee hates bubbles.”
“Seriously? Who hates bubbles?”
“My sister.”
I groaned, reaching out to drift my hand through the water. “Well, this was a waste of perfectly good Radox.”
Noah got a playful, boyish glint in his eyes. “Not necessarily.”
I saw his intent to throw me in a moment before he dove for me, and I leapt out of the way. He backed me up against the door, and my breaths came in sharp bursts.
“Don’t,” I warned, holding a hand up to his chest.
His eyelids lowered to half-mast, a sultry look on his face as he crowded me, leaning his chest into my palm. “Live a little, little spy.”
“I’m not a spy.”
“No? All evidence points to the contrary. First, I catch you snooping in my bedroom. Then, you earwig on my conversation with Enda Riordan. And today, well, today takes the biscuit. You hide in here so you can watch me taking a piss?” He shook his head teasingly. “Now that one’s just perverse.”
I swiped at his chest. “Shut up. It’s not true!”
He caught my wrists, chuckling low as he dragged me toward the bath. I struggled against him, twisting and turning. Finally, I managed to pull free, shoving him off me and pushing him into the tub instead. He landed with a loud, messy splash, covered in bubbles.
A silence fell. Then, I burst out laughing. Noah falling into the tub was quite possibly the funniest thing I’d ever seen.
“It’s true what they say about Karma,” I said with a grin.
Noah scowled at me, but I could tell he was holding back his laughter. All his clothes were drenched. He’d never looked so ridiculous. He’d also never looked sexier. I inhaled sharply at the sudden realisation, too spellbound to notice him reaching out and pulling me in on top of him. I regretted filling the tub so high because water sploshed out the sides.
“If I get wet, you get wet, too,” he said as I landed on him. I tried to brace myself above him, but he held me down. My thighs were on either side of his, our bodies flushed and soaked. My damp chest pressed to his, and a wet tendril of dark hair hung over his forehead. I wanted to nuzzle it with my nose. My nipples tightened under my top, and I just hoped he couldn’t feel them.
“We’re flooding the bathroom,” I said, my voice breathier than I would’ve liked.
Noah shrugged. “Damage is already done.”
My heartrate picked up when his hands travelled down my hips. I loved the feel of his touch. I wanted his heat everywhere. The spot between my legs pulsed when his fingertips brushed against the base of my spine.
Noah leaned forward a little, bringing his mouth to my ear. “Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?”
Do it.
I shook my head, fear and desire swarming within me. A low, masculine sound emanated from him as he reached up and wrapped his fingers around my ponytail. He yanked down on it hard, and my
chin jutted out. I gasped when he lightly nipped my jaw, flurries of butterflies flooding my belly.
I stared down at him, and he stared back at me. We were locked in a stand-off, neither one of us prepared to look away first.
“I have nightmares all the time,” I blurted.
Noah’s brows drew together. I had no idea what pulled the confession out of me, but I’d essentially killed the sexy moment. Maybe it was the water. Or maybe it was his closeness. All I knew was I felt compelled to say the words.
“What are they about?” he asked softly, his fingers drawing hypnotic circles on my back. Okay, so the sexy moment wasn’t dead entirely.
“Drowning,” I answered in a quiet voice. “Drowning out in the sea. Drowning in rooms inside this house. And shadows. There are always shadows,” I whispered, suddenly realising why Vee’s talk of dark shadows affected me so much. I’d been having nightmares about them for weeks. “I’m scared it’s a premonition.”
“Of what?”
“Of how I’m going to die.” The terror I’d been pushing away all this time clutched me.
“Dreams are usually a manifestation of a waking fear,” Noah said, his voice soothing. “They aren’t necessarily premonitions.”
“I know that, but I still hate them. When I wake up, I can’t move or speak. It only lasts a few seconds, but it feels like much longer.”
“That sounds like—”
“Sleep paralysis, I know. I’ve been reading about it. People usually experience it when they’re suffering from anxiety or stress, which is the story of my life really.”
Noah didn’t say anything, but his eyes had that wise, faraway look, the one that made him seem hundreds of years old. When he spoke, his voice sounded miles away. “I have bad dreams, too.”
Something jolted inside me. “What are yours about?”
“Being locked in rooms I can’t get out of. Being endlessly beaten with no escape from the pain. Being cast out and shunned for something I can’t do anything to change.”
What he said made my chest ache for him. “Your bad dreams sound a lot worse than my bad dreams.”