He’d tell me if he saw the darkness rising up inside me—I trusted that. Oliver wasn’t afraid to say what he was thinking.
Or at least, he hadn’t been.
I wondered how the other guys had changed. Was Aaron still quiet? Colton still brash and unafraid? Would Thorn still want to be my friend?
My phone sat next to my bed, and I considered, briefly, searching for them on social media. But that seemed sneaky for some reason. If they were on there at all, I didn’t want to be some lurking presence, observing their lives. I wanted to hear about it first-hand.
Excitement churned in my stomach. I hoped hoped hoped I would see them all soon. I hoped what Oliver said was true, and that they were on their way here.
Where would I put them all?
I wasn’t going to put them up at a motel like the seedy little shithole where I found the cheating wife and her assistant principal lover.
My chair swiveled, so I turned it to face my room. I had a pretty big bed, but I could maybe fit a blowup mattress in here. I could take the couch, one in each twin in the guest room, and one up here. Or—they could double up, and I could sleep on the blow-up…
Sleep crept up on me as I worked out the arrangements for my much-anticipated guests.
I was up before Oliver, but had slept a good three hours, which was nothing to scoff at. I had bacon frying and was stirring a mixture for pancakes, when Oliver walked in the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Making breakfast.”
He surveyed the round kitchen table. I’d put out juice and mugs for coffee. There was cream and sugar and maple syrup. Toast was in the toaster oven.
Scooping a ladleful of batter, I dripped it onto the skillet.
“How many people are you cooking for?” he asked.
My face heated. I wasn’t a great cook, but I was an enthusiastic one when moved. I woke up and wanted to make him feel at home. Jacinda and Ray had always been cooking, and I had a box of pancake mix in my pantry. How hard could it be to fry some bacon and add water to dry ingredients?
I had done an internet search on how to make pancakes, so now I stared at the top of the pan, waiting for them to bubble before I attempted to flip them.
“This could be a huge disaster,” I muttered before remembering that Oliver had asked me a question. “Just the two of us,” I replied. “Unless you’re expecting someone.”
He grabbed a mug off the table and padded to the coffee maker. “Actually,” he said, “I’m expecting Aaron and Colton. Colton was flying from Montana, and Aaron was with him. Thorn was supposed to arrive this morning, but his plane was delayed in Chicago. He’s pissed.”
I stared at him as he lifted the mug to his lips and took a sip.
Digesting what he said, I almost knocked the pan off the stove, and he reached out to grab both it and me before I burned myself.
“Damn it.” I shook my head, turning off the burner. “I should know better than to try to cook anything that doesn’t get microwaved.”
Oliver shook his head as he set the mug that he’d saved when he rescued me on the counter. “You’ve made plenty. You did a really good job and seeing you first thing in the morning… Lacey, have I told you how beautiful you are?”
My cheeks heated up. “You have. I’m thinking you need to get those glasses looked at because I’m okay but not beautiful… I mean… thank you. I don’t take compliments very well. Um, when do you think everyone will be arriving?”
He shrugged. “Soon enough.” He walked past me to where I stored my plates. “How is your head? Did you sleep okay?”
I sighed. “I don’t sleep well ever, really. And I think my state of unconsciousness recently threw my body off even more. As for my head? Well, it’s still attached to my neck, so that’s a good thing.” I groaned even as I said it. “Sorry, bad joke. I’ve spent a lot of time with my boss. That was a Rick joke.”
He laughed. “I liked it. Does that response mean it hurts?”
“It’s the same.” I grabbed the butter and syrup from the fridge and placed them on the table. He took out the silverware. We were the most domestic I’d been since I’d moved into the place.
I took a bite of the pancake I’d made and winced. Yep, they weren’t cooked all the way through. “I failed at this.”
He added maple syrup to his coffee before he sipped it and grinned at me. “Thanks for trying.”
“How did you sleep?” I pushed the pancake away.
“I never sleep well either.” But there was a lazy, happy aura to Oliver this morning. He reached across the table and took my hand in his. He grabbed a piece of bacon and popped it into his mouth. “What were you planning to do today before I showed up and sort of took over?” he asked after he swallowed.
I squeezed his fingers. “I was going to do some research on the sleep center I’m going to help Rick investigate. A woman thinks there is something paranormal going on there and claims her husband has been possessed. I’ll just sort of feel it out, and if I get the vibe, then he’ll call in someone else to handle it.”
Oliver’s sharp gaze met my own and held it. “I can help you, if you want that.”
“I’d love the assistance.” I cleared my throat. “Do you want some toast?”
He shook his head slowly. “I almost never eat breakfast. Just coffee. And… I really like just sitting here looking at you.”
My mouth went dry, and I forced myself to swallow. “Oliver, all of these years, I really thought you hated me. I have this vision of you guys all strung up on the walls. And knowing, or imagining, what happened to you because of me.”
“You didn’t string us up there. My father was responsible for all of us. He failed. Miserably. Not you. Lacey, you saved all of us.”
Tears I wouldn’t shed flooded my eyes. I didn’t let them fall, but they choked my throat. Oliver stroked his index finger over my wrist. It was a comforting move.
He spoke again. “I tried to stay awake, knowing you were going to save everyone. I wanted to help. To stand up. I’d never been so weak. I don’t even know how you managed what you did. A lot of nights, I’ve wondered if I’d just opened my eyes, just woken up before you left, if I could have gotten you to stay.”
It was hard to talk. “I barely remember it.”
“With what you went through? I don’t know how you even stayed upright. You’re strong.”
I hadn’t felt strong at the time. “Evil and weak.”
He frowned. “You loaded six people into my truck and got us home after defeating an ancient being.”
“I had two thoughts that night.” Was I really admitting this to him? He gripped my wrist, trailing his thumb over my pulse point. “The first was that I was bad. And the second was that I wanted to save you.”
“Not to be a broken record, but you did.” He leaned his elbows on my dining room table and took my hand between both of his. “You saved me when my parents—both of whom spent their lives as Trappers—didn’t.”
Something about his tone had me turning my hands to clutch his. “You’re angry at them.”
He sighed. “You see right to the heart of it. Yeah. I’m angry. That’s why the distance is important. It’s a parent’s job to keep their kids safe. It wasn’t yours.” He stared at the plate of bacon and shook his head before shrugging. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Like the sleep clinic?”
He lifted his gaze to mine and smiled. “Yes. Like that. So paranormal activity and sleep. Those things go hand-in-hand.”
“Yes,” I said. “The little research I’ve done has yielded a lot of information. First off, I go down the logical, scientific path.”
“Ruling out other explanations.” His eyes crinkled with his smile. “Smart.”
I glowed under the compliment, shifting uncomfortably. “Right. So, if someone doesn’t get a lot of sleep, or has interrupted sleep, there can be behavior changes. It can even result in depression and anxiety—which in t
urn, can result in a person seeming totally unlike themselves. I haven’t met the client Rick referred to me yet, but I have to allow the possibility that he hasn’t been possessed, he’s just fucking exhausted.”
Oliver threw his head back and laughed. “Just fucking exhausted.” He dropped my hand to take off his glasses and wipe his eyes. “So that’s the logical path. What’s the not-so-logical path?”
“Well,” I began, smiling as I watched him smile. I loved making him laugh and wanted to do it again. “I often begin with the ‘Is it cursed?’ question.”
He laughed again, rocking back on the chair. “I love this, keep going.”
Every horror movie and scary story started with cursed ground, and it was always, always, the first question Rick asked. He might have been messing with me, but part of me thought he wasn’t. “Right. So the land is not cursed, but the building might be.”
Oliver stopped smiling and leaned forward. “Tell me more.”
“The sleep clinic was renovated this summer. But it used to be an old hotel—The Anchor—which has quite a past.”
He twisted his mouth. “There are always tall tales with old buildings. Local legends. Most of the time, they don’t play out. Like every haunted school has a teacher who threw herself out the window or hung herself in the bathroom. A story like that. And with hotels, it’s always about someone dying or killing themselves after they find a spouse cheating. Maids who were murdered. That kind of thing. Most times? Didn’t happen.” He sighed. “I’m not trying to discount what you’re saying. The building might really be haunted or cursed. But maybe it’s not. What we need is someone to find out what did or didn’t happen there.”
I chewed on my lip. “We need a historian.”
He nodded. “Or Colton. Who is on his way here. Colton would be able to find out. He’s an archeologist, or almost one. He will be as soon as he gets through his dissertation, which will officially make him a PhD. Let’s ask him when he gets here.”
Colton with a PhD. He was an archeologist. It was impossible not to think of Indiana Jones, and I found that I liked the image.
Oliver took my hand in his and brought it to his mouth. “I know you’re picturing the hat and the whip, but Colton is more likely in a suit grading papers.”
That one was a little harder to get a visual of. “Are you finished?” I asked, changing the subject in order to take a moment.
He nodded, and I picked up the plates. Once I’d deposited them in the sink, I let out a breath. “Want to take our coffees to the couch?” I asked.
He responded by standing and picking up both mugs. He settled onto the sofa, placing the mugs on the coffee table as he waited for me to join him.
“I… It makes me nervous to think they’re coming,” I said, seating myself next to him. “If I’d known you were going to arrive, I’d have been the same way.”
He tugged on the end of my hair. “None of them are angry at you. You know that, right?”
“They probably should be.”
We sat in silence for a bit before Oliver took pity on me. “So maybe the building is cursed. Maybe it’s not. Maybe there are possessed people running it. Or practitioners of an occult. Easy way to figure that out.”
Grateful, I went down this path with him. “I can make an appointment.”
He grinned. “You don’t sleep, you said so yourself. Maybe you need some help.”
We were on the same track, and that felt great. “I’ll do that.” I picked up my phone and dialed the number I’d found on the internet. The appointment making was easy. I’d be there the next day, first thing in the morning.
“You were always really sensitive to all of it. If you get the heebie-jeebies, you’ll know that you’ve stumbled on something. What happens then?”
I set down my phone. “Rick has people he calls in. I’ve avoided them all these years. I stay away.”
His smile was slow. “Because you rightly thought we probably had feelers out about you with all the Trappers and people who deal with the paranormal. We did. So you didn’t show your face around them. You’re all kinds of stealthy, Lacey.”
Impulsively, I leaned over and kissed him. He smiled against my mouth before he deepened our kiss. When he pulled back, it was with an intensity in his gaze that made me want to curl up against him. “You’re days from being concussed and still healing. And I know you’re breaking all kinds of rules—driving, reading. You just stared at the screen on your phone. I’m not likely to be able to talk you out of it, since you always liked to push limits. But how about today, now that you’re set up to go to the sleep clinic, and Colton is on his way, we make out on the couch in front of the fire.”
I more than loved that idea.
With his gaze on mine, he scooted forward. “I can’t believe I’m holding you.”
He wasn’t yet, but the anticipation was killing me. I leaned forward, touching my lips to his. Unlike yesterday, he didn’t go slowly. He deepened the kiss. I could taste coffee and maple syrup on his tongue. He cupped my neck, holding me in place so he could explore me.
I wanted to touch him so badly. He wore a long sleeve t-shirt, but I could feel his body beneath it. His arms were muscled, and I pictured him on a ranch, leading a horse to a paddock or stall in order to be treated. He was strong, and seemed to know just what he wanted.
I knew what I wanted, too, though. Leaning back against the arm of the couch, I tugged him with me until his body hovered over mine. He ripped his mouth away, gasping for air. “Too soon.”
Was it? Or had it been ten years of dreaming about this and never thinking it would happen? Nothing about holding Oliver in my arms seemed too fast.
But I respected what he was saying and kissed him lightly on the lips. My hands drifted of their own accord from his shoulders across his back.
Oliver was in my house.
Touching me.
It was too good to be true.
Eventually, I pulled away, kissing him lightly once more before opening my eyes. His cheeks were flushed, and his face dewy. I was pretty warm, too, both from the fire in the fireplace I’d started as soon as I woke up and the one beneath my skin. Oliver turned, drawing me against him, my back to his chest. “I love your home.”
I stared into the flames and sighed happily. “Me, too. I’m glad you like it.” I was quiet for a moment. “Will you tell me about your life with the others? You said you stay close.”
“We do,” he answered. “In the years since you left, we’ve become each other’s best friend. I call and text Colton and Thorn as much as Aaron. In fact, Aaron and Colton are writing a book together.”
I flipped around so I could see if he was serious. “Really?”
He nodded. “It’s about supernatural artifacts. Colton says he’s not a writer, but Aaron claims he is. I’ve read some of his papers, and even though they’re scientific, they keep my interest.”
Colton always had loved literature. “Remember the night we watched Sense and Sensibility?” I had always felt that was a true picture of who Colt was—surprisingly but insanely smart.
“I do,” he replied. He shifted, grimacing. “I love holding you like this, but that little stove puts out a ton of heat.” I laughed and sat up. Oliver sat up as well, pulling me under his arm before I could get too far away. “That’s better.”
It wasn’t snowing today, so we could look out my living room window and see my small neighborhood. It was pretty boring. The houses were all built about the same time. The only differences between each place was the paint color. Funny how, from the outside, places could seem so similar and peaceful. I thought back to the sleep clinic and The Anchor. “The Anchor did have a death that made me suspicious,” I said, thinking back to the newspaper article I found. “A man was found frozen to death in the garden. His wife claimed he sleepwalked, and he was found in his pajamas.”
“Sleepwalking, and now there is a sleep clinic there. Yep, that could be related for sure. It’s complicated. Dreams are a
tricky thing to investigate, and some people, in the presence of the paranormal, can’t sleep at all.”
The glow of the fireplace played on his face. “You are really, really good-looking, Oliver. You know that, right?”
He shot me a smile. “No, but thank you.” He snuggled down a little bit more. “Why Anchorage?”
“I always did say I’d end up north.”
“That you did.” He ran circles over my shoulder where my shirt had come down a bit.
“I think I tried to go to Vancouver. But I didn’t have the right papers. I didn’t even have my driver’s license back then. No passport. I… I was on a bus. Everything is bits and pieces.”
He nodded. “You needed the cleansing as much as we did, and you didn’t get it. So you come to Alaska, even though the details aren’t clear, and you bump into Rick.”
“That I remember. Rick was like a light going off in my head. I slammed into him, and suddenly, I could think. His wife and daughter were killed the year before. A terrible tragedy. He was existing, but he says that I saved him. I was some kid lost, and he brought me home. He was safe and took care of me. Then he gave me a job and a shot at a normal life.”
Oliver regarded me quietly for a moment. “I think sometimes there are people that are just good that way. They push the darkness off of us naturally. Just by their existence, they make the filth wash away.”
I ran my hand through his hair. It was soft, silky. He closed his eyes, a moan coming from his mouth. With a sigh, he snuggled closer. I guessed he was getting used to the way the heat was in my living room now. It was a special kind of warmth that could really get into your bones and push out the cold.
I kept running my hands through his hair. He smiled at me as he opened his eyes. “Thorn and I actually live together. I’m trying to think of things to tell you.”
“Really? Not Thorn and Colton? They had that place.”
He shook his head. “They don’t live together real well. They can do it, but the truth is, they’re much closer when they can retreat from each other for a while. A big house would work, but the apartments aren’t big enough. I think they had too much togetherness in California. I get it. Aaron and I get enough of each other sometimes, too. He lives with Colton. Just works better.”
Voices in the Darkness Page 4