She dropped the pizza back on the foil and glared at him. “How about what’s in your secret room?” Or what happened to Velnya.
Jorick rolled his eyes and pushed his chair back. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation.”
“So am I. Look, I know we’re not in a committed relationship, so maybe it’s none of my business, but, God! Just say it’s none of my business. Don’t give me any crap like ‘nothing’ or ‘it’s not important’. Just say ‘it’s none of your business, Katelina’. You know?”
Something in her tirade made Jorick’s jaw tighten and his eyes narrow. “Never mind.”
“What do you mean ‘never mind’?”
He stood too quickly and the chair fell with a bang. He didn’t bother to look at it, only strode purposefully from the room and out the front door.
“Great talk,” she muttered as she wrapped the pizza up. “Great fucking talk.”
**********
Chapter Seven
When Jorick joined her in bed that morning he didn’t say anything. She wanted to ask what had pissed him off so badly, but decided she didn’t care. There was always tomorrow. However, when she woke up the next evening, he was already gone and the duffle bag from Loren’s car was thrown on the bedroom floor. She moved to unpack it, but decided to do it later. It just meant more laundry, anyway.
She headed upstairs and baked her last cardboard carton. The “lasagna” was tasteless, but she choked it down anyway, then waited for Jorick to return; only, he didn’t. When she decided he was gone with Loren, and maybe Kariss and the others, she moved to the front room to read, but couldn’t concentrate. Her mind kept going back to their argument last night. Somehow, the mysterious white door reminded her of him. Locked and impenetrable, it protected the secrets inside and kept her firmly out.
She stared absently out the window and watched fat flakes of snow drift down from the sky. It could only hold her attention for so long, and when she’d had her fill, she took a hot shower and stuffed some clothes in the washing machine before she returned to the book.
Her hair was dry when Jorick finally returned, his calm, cool veneer firmly in place. He came to a stop before the couch and gazed down at her, his eyes unreadable. “Let's go for a walk,” he said quietly.
“What?” she asked in surprise. He’d been gone for hours, but made no mention of what he’d been doing, only “let’s go for a walk”!
“A walk,” he repeated mildly. “You know, when people go outdoors and move their legs?”
“Yes, I know what it is.” She remembered their last walk and how it had ended. Still, it had started out good enough. Maybe this was his attempt at an apology? “All right, let’s go.”
Katelina was soon ready and she followed Jorick out the door and into the night. The velvet sky spread above them and snowflakes drifted down like bits of discarded feathers. Her breath puffed in front of her face in white clouds, and she hunkered down inside the too large coat to hide from the biting cold.
They walked in silence. Jorick led her through the snowy yard, and the stand of icy trees, to the grassland beyond. Despite the clouds, they could see the moon hanging low and full in the sky, its edges bleeding silver against the black.
They stopped just before they reached the beach, at the spot Katelina still thought of as the edge of the world. Snow covered the sand in heavy drifts that disappeared where the ocean lapped at it. It was odd, but she’d never thought about snow on the ocean before.
She turned to look at Jorick and found him standing motionless, his eyes closed. He took a deep breath and held it; savoring it as though he could taste something in the air that she couldn't. Then, he opened his dark eyes and caught her hand in his.
He took another deep breath, this one more of a sigh, and stared at the grass crushed beneath their feet. “Katelina,” he began reluctantly.
“Yes?” she prompted. This was like their last walk, and yet something was different. There was some unnamable tension that hung over them like a thick shadow.
Jorick gazed up at the moon and tried again, “Katelina, you've healed now.” He said it with such finality, as though it meant something had ended-
Something had ended.
“Yes,” she agreed slowly. A thick, tar like fear began to engulf her. “And?”
He gazed at her, as if sizing her up. “There’s no longer a need for you to remain here. Claudius is dead. Kateesha may try to seek you out, but if you're not with me then she would have no need.” He stopped, waiting for her to say something.
She stared at him, uncomprehending. “You're saying I should go home?” This was something she’d once professed to want, but now the words tasted bitter on her tongue.
“Well, to your mother at least.” His tone was even and his eyes bored into her, unflinching. “You’re listed as a missing person; the police are looking for you. There are people who care and are worried.”
Her heart froze in her chest as she realized the full implication of his words. “So, you're saying you want me to go then?” She didn’t understand what was happening. They’d had a fight, but it wasn’t that serious, was it? Not unless he was tired of her already?
“Katelina.” He took a deep breath and his eyes shifted back to the night sky. “Katelina,” he began again, his voice strangely tight. “I live in a world of night, of darkness. A world of blood and death. I can't ask you to stay in it.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief as all of her stupid illusions crashed down around her. “So this is it then?” she demanded. “You’re healed up and I’m not responsible anymore, so pack your bags and scuttle off home and try to pick up your life?”
He refused to meet her eyes. “Katelina, I should never have involved you.”
They’d had this conversation before. He’d admitted then that she probably hadn’t been in danger, it was that he didn’t want to… what? Give her up? As if that seemed to be a problem now!
“Yeah?” She demanded furiously. “Well you did! And now I’m here and all you can say is ‘go home’?”
He waved his free hand, silencing her objections. “What would you have me say?” He turned to her and met her gaze, his eyes burning like black flames. “What?”
The answer rose to her lips, but she refused to speak it. How could she? How could she say all those sugar coated, fairy dreams when he stood there, telling her he didn’t want her anymore?
He cleared his throat and looked away. “As I said, you should go home. Maybe they were right. Maybe it was all a mistake.”
Katelina’s stomach lurched. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was like one of her secret nightmares; the one where Velnya appeared from the shadows and she and Jorick walked away together, laughing at the stupid human. But the sharp tang of the winter air told her she was awake. She was truly, horribly awake.
“A mistake?” she echoed weakly, her voice nearly lost beneath the sound of the waves. “It was a mistake?”
“Maybe,” he admitted. “I-I don’t know. I thought I did, once.” He shook his head as if to clear it all away. “It doesn't matter. What matters is that you should go before anything else happens. Loren’s still here. He could take you tomorrow.”
“Fine,” she snapped and jerked her hand away from him. “Forget it, Jorick. I'll go, okay? You're tired of me, I get it.” She turned away and started to walk towards the house.
“No!” He caught her arm and tugged her around to face him. “You misunderstand.”
“Do I?” She glared at him, and tried to wrench her arm free. “Then what? I'm not as good as Velnya, is that it?” He flinched as if she’d physically slapped him and she instantly regretted her words.
And then he was suddenly furious.
“Where did you hear that name?” he roared, his face too close to hers. “Answer me! Was it Loren? Was it? Or Oren?” He held both her arms and shook her. “Answer me!”
Tears of shock and hurt stung her eyes and she shouted, “Let me go!” At her wo
rds, he stopped and stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. She pulled free from him and backed away over the frosty, uneven ground. “I'm not stupid, Jorick! If you want to keep secrets you should guard them better!” She seethed with anger, how dare he jerk her around like that! She decided he was right; it was time she went back to the real world.
He opened his mouth but no words came out, so she filled the silence for him. “It doesn't matter anymore. I'll go.” And before he could answer, she turned and fled through the silent night, her chest hollow and aching.
Jorick didn't stop her, or follow her, and she was soon back inside the house. She kicked away her shoes and jerked the coat off roughly. It fell to the floor in a heap and she left it. A stack of books was in her way, and she lashed out and sent them scattering, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
She stormed towards the basement, though stopped outside the white door. She rattled the knob, but of course it was locked. Of course.
“Fuck you!” she screamed and punched it again and again, until her knuckles were bruised and the wood splintered. When the pain finally registered, she stopped and stared dumbly at the dent she’d made. If only Jorick was that simple to mark. If only she could make him remember her as easily.
Tears burned her eyes and she fled down the basement stairs. She started for the bedroom, but suddenly thought about what it would be like when Jorick joined her. How could she face a night of him silently sleeping only inches away from her, yet knowing that he might as well be in the next country? The thought made her sick, so she flung herself into the junk room and dropped to the empty patch of floor. She raised trembling hands to her flushed face and, though she tried to hold them in, deep sobs broke lose until she gave in.
Katelina woke the next day, curled up on the floor of the junk room. It took her a moment to straighten out her aching body and she wondered if it wouldn’t be better to just stay on the floor forever. If nothing else, it would be easier.
She imagined Jorick lying in bed in the next room, his hair spread out on the pillow and his long lashes on his cheeks, then she mentally shook herself. Jorick had told her to get lost, so how could she think of him like that? She should hate him now, not want him!
She wiped crystallized tears from her eyes and contemplated sleep, but she knew it was pointless. There was no sanctuary in it. So, she climbed to her feet and stole cautiously through the empty basement and up the stairs. The house was full of sunlight, but it failed to cheer her. Even the kitchen looked more dismal than usual, and the empty fridge depressed her. There was nothing to eat except leftover pizza and, with no enthusiasm, she hauled it to the dining room. She glanced at the chair Jorick had sat in the night before last. “Are you happy?” he’d asked. Well, now she had a definite answer to give him: No. No, she was not happy, and it was his fault.
She chewed the pizza with no conviction, and thought back on the conversation they'd had on the beach - if it could be called a conversation. So much for Loren’s brilliant advice.
Loren. Jorick had demanded to know if he’d told her about Velnya, which meant Loren knew, and it was a safe bet that Oren, Torina, and even Kateesha did, too. Hell, there was probably a billboard somewhere! And yet no one ever mentioned it to her. Did they think it’d be more fun for her to just be surprised? She hoped they had their laugh because here she was, surprised and abandoned just the same.
But it wasn’t a surprise, was it? No, Velnya was just another Janine, and there Katelina was, left being the not-quite-good-enough woman again.
She took another bite of pizza, but it tasted like sawdust and stuck in her throat, so she gave up. She’d be hungry later, but she’d just make Loren get her something. Yeah, feed the human monkey. Maybe it was a good thing that she’d be home soon and away from all of this weirdness.
Home.
That had become an abstract word for her. A place of comfort, safety and melancholy memories all pressed like flowers in an album. It was a word associated with daylight and computers and cell phones and her mother. But, she doubted that such a place existed anymore.
Depression settled over her like a leaden cloud, so she turned her attention to the practical; packing. The duffle bag was still in the bedroom, so she stuffed a discarded shopping bag full of clothes, then threw it on the front room couch. True, Jorick had paid for them, but he owed her something after all, didn’t he?
The air in the house was too thick with memories, so she grabbed the black coat from the floor where she’d left it, and slid into it; instantly enveloped in Jorick’s familiar smell. Tears pricked her eyes but she forced them back and put her shoes on. Then she stood and let her gaze sweep the house. She’d only been there a couple of weeks, but she felt an attachment to it. She had memories there, in the tiny space. Memories of sitting on the couch, of laughing, of sulking, of sitting in the dining room reading those letters.
The letters.
On a whim, she marched into the dining room and jerked open the evil bottom drawer. In a moment she’d dug out the too familiar bundle. It was as if she needed to see they were real.
They were, and the sight of them made her angry, but she couldn’t let them go. She stared at them stupidly. What was she going to do with them? Take them with her? She didn’t know, but she stuffed them in her coat pocket anyway, and then headed outside.
The sky to the west was a smear of red that heralded the end of another day. White snow mantled the ground. Soft and clean, it bore only the footprints she and Jorick had left last night, as though immortalizing their last walk together.
With nothing to do, Katelina circled the house pointlessly and then came to a sudden stop in front of one of the windows: the window to Jorick’s secret room. She’d been too preoccupied with the door and never thought to look in from the outside. When the easy route failed, she’d surrendered instead of puzzling out another approach.
She drew near slowly, as though she expected Jorick to swoop in from nowhere and scream accusations. But, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. Not while the sun still owned the world.
The window was higher than it appeared from a distance, and she couldn't actually see anything. She stepped back in disgust and started to contemplate surrender again, when something sparked inside her. She turned to the yard to scavenge for something to climb on. There was a plastic bucket that seemed just right, and when she had it in place she climbed up carefully and squinted through the glass. She was determined to get the answer to at least one of his damned secrets before she left.
Most of the room was lost to darkness, but she could pick out a few things. There were large, shadows she thought might be chairs and one that could be a desk. Like the rest of the house, the room was full to bursting, though she didn’t see any books. There was an odd stand like object that was covered in crazily leaning candles, as though Jorick had just stuck them there and let them burn and melt, one after another. Picture frames covered the walls, their glass just bright reflections, except for a large, gilt framed painting that had no overlay. However, no matter how she craned her neck, the window curtains obscured all but the edge of it.
The sun sank fast, and soon it was too dark to see much of anything. Still, she strained against the coming night until something in the deepest shadows moved. Her heart thumped in her chest and then she realized what it was: Jorick!
She jerked away from the window, lost her balance and landed with a painful thud in a heap of snow. She lay for a moment, paralyzed, but once she realized she was unbroken and probably unnoticed, she relaxed.
What was Jorick doing in there? It was a pretty risky place for him to sleep, considering the curtains were wide open. But then again, maybe he had enough junk stacked up to make it safe, like the motel rooms.
Either way, it wasn’t her problem anymore, was it?
With that in mind, she climbed to her feet and brushed herself off before she headed back inside. She was just shutting the door when Jorick entered the room. His hands were buried
deep in the pockets of his jeans and his eyes were cast downwards. At the sound of the door, he glanced up, surprise etched on his pale features.
A wave of self consciousness crashed over Katelina, and she clutched the pocket full of letters. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said softly, his face expressionless. He came to a stop next to her, but made no move to touch her or say anything further. They both stood there, frozen for a moment, and then he opened the door and went outside.
The door closed and she screamed after him, “Fine, just be an ass!” How dare he treat her like that? How dare he just walk off and leave her there? How dare he – how dare he not even care!
Fury bubbled in her and she thought of the letters in her pocket. With purpose, she strode to the dining room and found the ink pen and the yellow tablet. On the top piece of paper she scrawled:
“No one had to tell me, Jorick. I’m sorry I couldn’t be as perfect as her, but you’re rid of me now.”
She tore the paper loose and wrapped the note around the letters, then stomped to the end of the hallway and forced the bundle underneath the locked door.
When he returned, she was sitting impatiently in the chair near the fireplace, but she stood as though he'd ordered her to attention. He stopped in front of her, close enough to kiss, and she had to exert real control to keep from gazing into the bottomless depths of his eyes. She couldn't stop her heart from racing at his nearness, but she held herself in check. She refused to make an idiot out of herself now, even if it killed her.
Jorick took her hand and, for a moment, she looked up at him hopefully. But the hope died when he shoved something into her palm and forced her fingers to curl around it.
“Here,” he said gruffly without really looking at her. “You'll need this.” He dropped her hand and stepped away quickly. “Loren will take you to town and from there I'm sure you can get a bus or call someone. Tell them whatever you like. Say I kidnapped you, it hardly matters.” His gaze flicked to her for a moment and then away. “Just don't tell anyone about us, or you'll be in danger from the others.” Then, he turned and disappeared deeper into the house.
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