"Stay with me tonight," she said, her head on his shoulder just so.
He nodded but, again, said nothing. It was the most comfortable silence she had had in a while.
To say things were awkward between Sophie and Will was an understatement. Sophie left the brief albeit intense discussion bristling in anger and wracked with guilt. She didn't understand how Will had this innate ability to make her feel two extremely different ways simultaneously. It must be a gift.
If energy made noise, sparks would fly and the atmosphere would cackle around them. She wasn't sure what she should even say to him as they walked back to his flat, so she figured the best thing for both of them would be if she kept her mouth shut and didn't say anything. She had to curl her fingers into fists and dig her nails into her flesh in order to remind herself of that, considering how easy it was for her to forget. The ride up the elevator was silent, so quiet she could hear her stomach rumble. She always seemed to be hungry, even at the most inappropriate times.
When they reached the room and we're both tucked safely inside, Will looked at Sophie so fast the red head was surprised he didn't get whiplash. "Just what in the hell were you thinking?" he demanded in the growly voice. It caused shivers to run up and down her spine, and not in the usual way. "How could you have left me without saying anything?"
Sophie opened her mouth to respond, but shut it. There was something in Will's diction, something in his tone that caused her to pause. His voice was deep, but there was an edge to it. A sharpness. Almost like he was hurt, but was trying to mask the pain with anger. Maybe pain was the wrong word. More like fear.
"I didn't want to wake you up," she told him, and even to her, it sounded like the lamest excuse that could ever come out of her mouth.
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Will said, and he continued to pace around Sophie, like he was a hunter and she was his prey. He caught her out in the open and was trying to figure out what to do with her.
"Yeah, well." Sophie shrugged her shoulders. "I got information, didn't I? Michael didn't kill Cillian, just like I thought."
"See, that's what I don't understand." The edge in Will's voice only got amplified. "Why would any fiber in your being not suspect it's Michael. All he's done is attempt to kidnap you, and he actually got away with it. Not only that, he kidnapped your friend."
"Michael has never been violent unless coerced," Sophie said. "Look, I don't know how I know. I just do. And I'm right. He didn't do it. We need to find out who did."
"No, what we"—he pointed between the two of them to indicate he was only talking about them—"need to do is figure out what's going on between you and Michael."
"What?" Now, Sophie's voice was sharp. He did not just say that. “What’s between me and Michael? What do you think is between me and Michael? Nothing is going on between me and Michael. Why are you even questioning that?”
“You left me in the middle of the night to see him,” Will said. “Not only is he a suspect in a gruesome murder, but he’s been obsessed with you since he found out about you. For some reason, you got it in your head that it was a good idea to see him in the middle of the night to ask him? Sophie, you’re a smart girl. I don’t understand why you’re acting so dumb.”
Sophie blinked once, twice, three times quickly in succession. Did he just say that?
“Excuse me?” Sophie stopped at the entrance of the Ignis Dorm. She couldn’t move, actually. Her feet were lead, and she was rendered temporarily immobile due to her anger. “I can’t even believe that came out of your mouth.”
“You’re my girl, kid,” Will told her. “What do you expect when you leave me in the middle of the night? You could have said something. We could have gone together. Why wouldn’t you talk to me about how you’re feeling?”
“Because of this. Because I knew this was how you would react. You don’t trust me, Will.” Her eyes were big when the realization hit her, and she had to look away. She could feel the solid relationship they had built up start to crack. “How can we be together if you don’t trust me?”
“You want to talk about trust, kid?” Will asked, and though his words came out hollow, sadness tainted the tone. “You don’t trust my reactions. You don’t trust me well enough to tell me how you’re feeling. How do you think that makes me feel?”
Sophie gritted her teeth. She still refused to look at him. Refused to make eye contact. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and suddenly, she was cold and ready to crawl into bed. Exhaustion hit her like a wave crashing to the shore, and she wanted to be alone since being with Will right now was out of the question. It would only make things worse between them.
“Now what?” Sophie asked, because they needed to end this conversation somehow, and standing there in silence was not going to do it for them.
Will shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “We take some space. Sort out our thoughts. Reconvene in the morning.”
“What if it’s not better in the morning?” Sophie asked, and only then did she chance a look at him.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “My mom always used to say if a good night’s rest didn’t help it, then nothing would.”
Sophie nodded once, and without saying anything further, headed into the Ignis Dorm. It didn’t need to be said that she’d be heading to her room and he would go to his. Space was necessary for two fiery tempers to simmer and, hopefully, die down so they could refocus and see through the smoke.
A good night’s rest sounded like a plan. Sophie just hoped she—and Will—would feel better in the morning.
28
“Atlanta?”
Jane looked at Daryl amongst the crisscrossing shadows in the room the two shared. It couldn’t be more than four o’clock in the morning, and Jane had woken from her deep slumber to Daryl packing a suitcase. When she had inquired just what he was packing for, his response baffled her, to say the least.
“You said it yourself,” he explained, standing in front of her in a pair of slacks and nothing else. “Marvin must have a weakness, something we can use against him as leverage to get what we want from him.”
“And what do we want, exactly?” Jane asked. Her thoughts were slow and muddled, like they were trying to step out of quicksand.
Her eyes, on the other hand, unabashedly took Daryl in, taking advantage of the dim lighting. His hair was in his face, masking his black eyes. He hadn’t shaved in the past couple of days and was already starting to get some scruff on the lower half of his face. Which, to Jane, wasn’t all that bad – dare she say it was sexy? - but she knew it wasn’t something that would stick for very long. His tattoos were like bright stars that seemed to reflect nicely on his pale body. She promised herself she would trace every last one and make him tell the origin of where they came from when she did.
Maybe she could start once they actually …
Her thoughts trailed off, and she couldn’t even be bothered to blush any longer. She felt like a teenage boy—hell, she felt like a teenage girl at a One Direction concert—in heat and ready to pounce. But she didn’t want to make the first move. She wanted him to initiate contact. She wanted to watch him desire her and please her and worship her body the way it deserved to be worshipped. He already knew she wanted it, which was almost embarrassing enough. Yet he was the one who couldn’t seem to do anything about it.
Maybe he didn’t want to.
But no. That couldn’t be it. Despite everything, Jane could tell by the way Daryl looked at her that he wanted her, that he craved her. What she didn’t understand was why he hadn’t made his move yet. And, a part of her wished he would at least show that the lack of physical connection between them was driving him as crazy as it was driving her. She clenched her teeth together just thinking about that. Why wasn’t he acting crazy, the way she was?
Here he was standing in front of her in nothing but slacks like it was just another day. Like they weren’t together and didn’t want each other. If he made her wait any longer …<
br />
Wait, a voice insisted, stopping Jane’s thoughts altogether. Stop reacting. Drive him crazy. Tease him the way he’s teasing you. Then maybe you’ll get what you’re looking for.
A smile slowly crept up on Jane’s face. That sounded simple enough. Certainly she could do that.
“Are you even listening to me?” Daryl asked, exasperated.
“Of course I am,” Jane said, rolling her eyes but feeling her face blush at being caught not paying attention to what he had been saying. “My question is, what’s our story?”
“Excuse me?” Daryl’s tone was flat.
“You know,” Jane said, speaking faster than normal in order to cover up her blunder. “We’re just going to show up to Atlanta together, and no one’s going to be suspicious? I’m sure they’ll welcome you with open arms, but what are we supposed to say about me? Maybe it’s better if I just don’t go. I could stay here and do more research. Did you know the library is filled with historical resources that lists possible abilities peculiars could possess that we don’t even know about?”
“You are not staying here, and that is final,” Daryl told her. “As I was saying, I’ve already cleared it with Ethan. I’m not letting you out of my sight after that little stunt you pulled last night.”
“Listen, I get why you’re upset. I do, but I’m not going to let my friend go see a possible murderer in the middle of the night by herself,” Jane told him, her voice firm. Her eyes flashed emerald as they locked into his, and her blush faded.
“I don’t understand why one of you intelligent ladies didn’t think to let someone know where you were going,” Daryl said, than shook his head. “Regardless, you’re coming with me.”
“Really?” Jane asked, raising a brow. “What’s our story?”
Jane watched Daryl pick at invisible lint on his slacks, his copper-brown hair falling into his face so she couldn’t see the majority of it. “Marriage,” he said, though his voice was decidedly Southern and therefore mumbled. “You and I are engaged to be married, and we’re looking at possible venues.”
Jane pressed her lips together, a perplexed look on her face. “And people will buy that?” she asked. “Marvin was bewildered by the fact that you care about me in the first place.”
“Yes, well, the people of Battle Creek will just appreciate the fact that I’ve found someone to spend my life with,” Daryl said. “Are we agreed, then? All right. I need you to do me a favor and pack a bag. No checked luggage, please. I want to avoid being in the airport longer than necessary.”
“Absolutely, bossypants,” Jane said, standing up. “Should I meet you later, then?”
“Yes, that sounds fine.”
Jane nodded and stood. After giving him a light kiss on the cheek, she slid on her shoes and left. She hoped Daryl couldn’t hear her heart pounding, couldn’t hear the echo of it reverberate throughout her ears and cause goose bumps up and down her body.
Marriage. They were pretending to be engaged.
She didn’t quite know how she felt about that in general, let alone as a story to tell the residents of Battle Creek, but she couldn’t think about it right now. She had an entire airplane ride to think about that.
The flight wasn’t bad, and they were in the airport less than a half hour. Daryl had already made arrangements to rent a car—a sleek, midnight blue BMW that looked like the night sky and shined like the stars. Jane perked her brows upon seeing it for two reasons: one, she didn’t know cars like that existed down south; and two, she didn’t realize Depogare had a thing for cars.
After they picked up their car, they headed to their hotel. The Tulip Garden Hotel was the only hotel located in Battle Creek, Georgia. It was homey, but bigger than Jane expected. And there were flowers everywhere. Even though it was freezing, flowers grew. It was actually kind of cool, the more Jane looked at it. Vines grew on the outside walls of the hotel, and each room had a vase filled with freshly picked wildflowers. The rooms themselves reminded Jane of typical hotel rooms, with ice buckets, mini fridges, and expensive water bottles. They stayed in a simple room; there was just a bed, nightstands, a dresser where a small, outdated television sat, and a closet.
“So what’s the plan?” Jane said as she began to unpack her clothes.
“We’re going to unpack and then change,” Daryl told her, looking through his own suitcase. “I’m taking you to lunch as a way to introduce you.”
Jane furrowed her brow. “Who are we meeting?” she asked, confused.
“No one,” Daryl said. “People here will recognize me. When they see you, gossip will spread like the Plague.”
Twenty-three minutes later, Jane and Daryl sat at a quaint diner nearly filled to the brim. It was dinnertime, and apparently, everyone in town ate dinner here rather than cook it themselves in their homes. Already, Daryl was stopped by five different people, all happy to see him back here so soon and asking how everything was. Daryl always made sure to introduce Jane as his fiancée, and Jane always made sure to play the part: big smile, bigger eyes, and some eyelash fluttering to go with it. In fact, she learned how to make herself blush on command so she could look shy and sweet at the same time.
Jane was glad she picked an outfit to match the persona of her role as fiancée as well. It was too cold for a sundress like she had originally planned on wearing, so instead, she wore black leggings and a loose, ruched white sweater. Her hair was left down, and her makeup was natural. On her feet was a pair of her favorite Steve Madden brown boots.
Nearly everyone who came over to meet her remarked how beautiful she was, how young she looked, and how happy they were that Daryl had finally found someone. They tried to find out information on Jane herself, but Jane was practiced in the art of giving just enough to satisfy without giving away too much.
After the third group left once their names were called, Jane was finally able to look at the menu the hostess dropped off. However, she could feel someone staring at her, and when she picked her head up, noticed Daryl.
“What?” she asked, feeling her weight shift due to his intense stare.
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said.
“Daryl,” a warm voice greeted.
Jane picked her eyes up to see a beautiful waitress walking toward them with soft blonde hair and big brown eyes, and the longest eyelashes Jane had ever seen. Her hair fell into bouncy curls, and they were pulled into a simple ponytail with a few errant strands littering her forehead and neck. She had a slender frame hidden behind a mustard yellow and dark red diner uniform. She was wearing red nail polish and shiny white sneakers that looked brand new. She squeezed Daryl’s shoulder.
“It’s so good to see you again,” she said, and her tone had a distinctive Georgia drawl to it. “I wasn’t expecting you again until the summer. What’s the occasion?”
“I’m getting married.” The words slid of his tongue so naturally that Jane had to remind herself he was lying. “And my fiancée wants a winter wedding. We’re here looking at venues for next year.”
“Oh, lordy, a Depogare finally getting married?” she asked, and turned her eyes to Jane. “How rude of me! I’m Rose.” She wiped her hand on her uniform before extending it out to Jane. “Such a pleasure to meet you. You know, many ladies here have tried to woo the Depogare brothers. It’s nice to know such a thing is possible.”
“Oh really?” Jane asked as she shook Rose’s hand. “So my fiancé here has had many suitors, then?”
“I could tell you stories, sweetheart,” Rose said with a laugh. Jane grinned wickedly at Daryl. She liked Rose. She liked Rose a lot. “In fact, why don’t you come over tonight for a party your brother’s throwing for his friends? I’ll let him know you’ll be stopping by. I’m sure he can’t wait to see you. You are all he talks about, you know. And the fact that you’re getting married! Well, shoot!”
Daryl gave Rose a polite smile, but Jane could tell he was a little overwhelmed with her enthusiasm.
> “Actually, Rose,” he said, “I had hoped to surprise Marvin, if you don’t mind. But I would be happy to attend your and Marvin’s party this evening. I appreciate the invitation.”
“O’course!” she said, waving his thanks away with a flick of her wrist. “Now, you two just sit tight. I’m going to bring you both one of our famous strawberry lemonades in two licks, you hear? If these aren’t the best strawberry lemonades you’ve ever tasted, I’ll get you a meal complimentary of the Battle Creek diner.” Her eyes landed on Jane and seemed to sparkle even more. “And I’ll be sure to tell you more stories of your future hubby.—all the embarrassing ones he won’t want you to know about.”
Jane rubbed her hands together, her eyes sparkling. “Great,” she said. “I’m looking forward to it.”
29
It wasn’t typical for Sophie to choose to go running by herself ever, but after what happened with Will, she needed some space to herself. With all the pent-up frustration, she needed some kind of outlet that would allow her to get it out of her. And starting a fight with Will, no matter how badly she wanted to, probably wasn’t the best way to do that. She didn’t want to be the couple that fought all the time. She didn’t want to be the couple that broke up and made up and had lots of passionate sex all the time.
Well, the last part she wouldn’t mind, as long as it didn’t force her to have to deal with the first two.
Sophie wanted a relationship built on trust. A lot of girls she knew, whether it was her foster sisters or the girls she went to school with, wanted a guy who got jealous and protective. While Sophie had no problem with Will wanting to actually protect, she never wanted him to be jealous. Jealousy was insecurity at its worst, and there was no reason for either of them to be insecure.
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