Thorn came around to release me just as dad stepped outside with a worried frown on his face. My beautiful boy didn't seem too worried about the father figure standing there, watching him as though he wanted to grill him or rake him over the coals; I'm not sure which.
"Chief Tanning, our Jasmine is sick did you get everything I asked for?" It's not good to have mini Os in the presence of your father Jasmine Ashley Tanning, but that voice.
How could I help it, and why had I never noticed its heated affect before? Granted he's said maybe less than five words to me in our entire existence, but I should've realized before now.
He looked down at me with a slight smirk on his face and I got the eerie suspicion that he'd heard every thought I'd just had.
Could he read my mind? Was that even possible? He grinned down at me before pecking me on the lips. Holy crap, he'd just...and in front of my dad...and oh I'm gonna die.
No wonder I was willing to embrace death earlier, I had some sort of premonition that's why.
I looked to my dad who was now scowling and looking on as if he'd like to snatch me from Thorn's hands. "Who'd you say you were again boy?"
"Your son in law." Gulp...I looked from one to the other of them, as there appeared to be some kind of standoff in the making.
Why did I have to be sick? I would've so loved to watch this play out. But I was beginning to feel like Dante's inferno, so I had to put an end to it.
"Uh guys?" They both turned to me as if they'd only just remembered that I was there.
"Oh sorry Jazz, I can take her from here son, you go on back to school." I thought for sure Thorn would pay heed, after all Peter was looking rather fierce, not to mention he has a gun, but no. I should've known better. It seems my beautiful boy was the same with men as he was with boys.
"No." That's all he said before actually brushing past my dad and heading inside and straight to our couch, where he laid me down gently and covered me with the old afghan that laid there.
He didn't pull back right away, but instead leaned over me, his eyes searching mine. When he was satisfied with what he saw there he stood up and turned to my dad.
"Kitchen?" I looked to see what my father would do or say, but to my surprise he just pointed in the right direction.
"Who is that guy Jazz?" Dad whispered as soon as the coast was clear. I could only shrug as the reality was, I really didn't know.
"You don't know? Then why is he carrying you around and calling himself my son in law?"
"Thorn dances to the beat of a different drum dad, I'm the last person to know..."
"You may ask me anything you wish chief Tanning just not now, let's take care of her first shall we?" Thorn appeared in the doorway just then.
He turned and headed back into the kitchen, leaving dad with his mouth hanging open. "How did he...? Dad looked at me and twirled his finger next to his head in the sign of insanity.
"I think we've got ourselves a live one Jazz, you sure he's safe? I'm gonna run him when I get back to the station."
"Speaking of which, what are you doing home so early dad?"
"That boy called and ordered me home, said you were too sick to take care of yourself, gave me a list and hung up."
It probably wasn't the best thing to do to laugh, not only because it hurt like the very dickens; but it probably wasn't a good idea to confound dad's perplexity any farther.
Poor thing, he was more at sea than I was, it was good to know that I wasn't the only one that Thorn left wondering.
The man-boy in question came back into the room with a tray. There was a cup of hot tea, some pills and what looked like honey mixed with something in a tumbler.
He gave dad a look, which had him scooting off the coffee table where he'd been sitting while talking to me. Amazing, he even controlled my father with a gesture. Curiouser and curiouser by the minute.
"Come." He sat behind me on the couch, pulling me up into a half seated position, so he could hold the cup while I sipped on my tea.
There were hints of lemon and ginger and he'd sweetened it just right. My throat rebelled a little but he wouldn't let up, not even when I complained.
"All of it." He held the cup against my lips making sure I obeyed.
"She doesn't have to drink it all if she doesn't feel like it..." Dad tried butting in.
"Yes she does." He didn't even pick his head up when he said that. I could hear dad fuming under his breath, probably wondering who this usurper was who had come into his house and dared to tell him what to do with his own daughter.
I was too tired to intervene, so I just obediently sipped my tea until it was all gone, then downed what turned out to be a honey and lemon mix with a touch of something strong, maybe Pete's whiskey supply.
Next came the happy pills and I was once more laid back and covered. "Sleep." I got another kiss to the brow, this one coupled with a hand to my hair, brushing it back off my face, and he was up and leaving.
I felt stupid tears cloud my eyes; that's sickness for you, it makes you weak. It felt like he was deserting me for some reason, which was stupid.
I know it was just the illness making me feel this needy but still. He turned at the door and gave me one last look. "I'm going after your car, I'll be back soon." See, mind reader.
Chapter 10
By the time I went to bed that evening, Thorn still had not been back yet. Well my truck was in the driveway, but I hadn't seen him. And dad said it had just appeared, he hadn't heard or seen anything either. "Jazz you okay, you need anything?”
“No dad, I'm just going to go to bed now." I felt miserable as I pounded my pillow into submission.
How was it possible that this one person had come to mean so much in so short a time? Why did I feel abandoned because he'd obviously found something else to do that was more important?
I fell into a fitful slumber sometime later, only to be awakened by the feeling of someone in bed with me. My heart gave a lurch of fear, until I heard his voice quietly in my ear.
"Settle little one it’s only me." Immediately my traitorous body relaxed back against him once more. "How did you get here, where's dad, does he know?” He turned me over in his arms until my head rested on his chest.
Somehow I knew this wasn’t one of his nocturnal visits, even though my eyes were still closed. He just felt more real and I could hear his heartbeat where my head laid on his chest.
“No, I came through your window, your father is not yet ready to accept what you are to me. We will take our time there I think, but you needed me here with you so here I am.”
“How did you know I needed you?”
“Because we're...connected.” I started to question him but a finger across my lips silenced me.
“One day soon I will answer all your questions I promise, but that's for later; for now just know that I'm always with you." He got settled in bed with me and for the first time since he’d left I felt whole again.
I wasn't quite sure what to make of his words, but when he wrapped me in his arms and drew me in closer for one of his craved forehead kisses, every thought vanished.
I fought to stay awake to enjoy the closeness, who knew what would happen tomorrow? Will he go back to his distance keeping, or will things change, what?
Sleep won out in the end and I was soon off in wonderland, as his scent washed over me, enveloping me in warmth.
When I awakened in the morning I was alone. I felt the bitter disappointment before my body alerted me to the fact that I was sick as a dog and another worry set in.
I dragged myself from the bed and into the shower in the hopes that some warm water might revive me, but no such luck.
I started getting hot and cold flashes and had almost passed out, when the shower door was pushed open forcefully, and he was there, grabbing me out from under the water. I got a quick glimpse of his sheet white face before giving into the darkness.
"Well how was I supposed to know she would go soak herself as soon as she got o
ut the bed? I was just making coffee.”
“I told you to keep an eye on her, I was only gone for ten minutes because you forgot the nutmeg.”
“Son this is Havenhurst, ain't much call for nutmeg in these parts. I still don't know where the hell you found some.”
“That doesn't matter, what matters is that she could've been hurt.”
“Boy you're about to drive me up a wall, first you come downstairs at the ass crack of dawn like you own the place, and I'm still not too sure about this spending the night thing...”
“Chief, look at me." I watched through slitted, feverish eyes, as my father turned to Thorn and his shoulders rose and fell. "Well alright fine, you can spend the night but no hanky panky.”
“That's none of your concern, and I'm sure it would be rather embarrassing for your daughter to hear you speak like that. Jasmine, open your eyes."
Damn, how did he know, and why was his accent so strong this morning? It seemed like the more I heard it the stronger and dare I say, sexier it became.
His hand came down on my forehead as dad stood to the side watching with a worried frown. "What do you think Azarov, doctor?”
“No I will see to her, I've got what I need, you may go to the station.”
“Look here boy...”
“You're needed at work no?”
“Well yes....”
“And you have pressing matters to attend to, things you had to leave when you came home to take care of your daughter yesterday yes?”
“Uh huh, you seem to know a lot.” Dad sounded putout and none too pleased with this turn of events.
“Yesterday you were needed because I hadn't been prepared for her illness, today I am, so you can leave me to it. I will see that she's well taken care of."
There was nothing I could say except to follow them back and forth with my head like I would at a tennis match.
Who was this guy, my pseudo boyfriend of sorts...well...whatever he was. Who was he really that he spoke to a man twice his age with such an authoritative air?
And why was my father even listening to him? I fell asleep again while the two of them argued back and forth and when next I awakened, Thorn was sitting next to my bed reading a book.
"Good you're awake, time for your special tea." Spooky, I hadn't even twitched, but still he knew the moment I was awake.
He sat next to me and pulled me up against his chest, his movements gentle and precise; and holding a cup to my lips, fed me his special brew.
Now I know where the nutmeg went, there was orange and apples and some of everything it seemed in the cup. "It's my babushka's remedy for everything.”
“Babushka, what's that?”
“It's the language of my people, our people. It means grandma.”
“My people? My people are American." He didn't answer me and I looked up at him questioningly. "Well aren't they?”
“There's nothing for you to worry about malenkaya." I wanted him to talk, but his words just leave me with more questions than answers. "Soon you will have all the answers, but it is not the time, for now you rest yes?”
“What was that you called me before? I liked it.”
“Malenkaya, it means little one." I settled closer to him as he fed me the tea at little intervals. "When you are finished we will take you for a walk, a little fresh air will be good for your condition.”
“My condition, what's my condition exactly?”
“You have a strain of...the flu that is all, nothing I can't fix in a day or two, plenty of fluids and rest.”
“What about school, aren't you going to get into trouble? You’ve already missed so much as it is.”
“No, now stop fishing for information and put your head down and rest. Would you like me to read to you from one of your books?" He reached over and took up my almost destroyed copy of Anna Karenina from the pile.
"How did you...? Never mind." I just did as I was told and put my head back down while he read softly to me, stopping every now and then to kiss my hair and pull me up higher on his chest as I seemed to keep sliding.
His voice was lulling me into a dream state where all that existed was here and now, him and I cocooned in a little bubble where no one and nothing else could trespass.
But this was better than my dreams. Here, like this, I could feel the beating of his heart against me and inhale his scent that seemed to convey so much more to my hungry heart.
There was something of the familiar in his touch, in the way he held me so protectively. My name on his lips was like balm to my soul.
In his arms I felt at peace, whole, safe; all the things I never had before. He whispered to me softly, even when there was no need to.
His words stirred something in me. He could’ve been talking about the weather and I think I would’ve reacted the same. It was the timbre in his voice; it seemed to brush up against something in my heart and soul.
“You have beautiful hair little Jasmine.” There, right there. It was the way he said my name, the familiarity of it sent my mind on an expedition. Something was tickling the edges of my mind, but something else was holding me back.
It was as if I were afraid to remember. Was it one of the dreams from before? Is that why it seemed so familiar? But why would I be afraid of a dream? Silly question Jazz, your dreams become real.
“You must not worry over much Jasmine, all will be well, you will see.” That was another thing about Thorn; he always seemed to know what was going on with me. As if he could see into me, like we were connected somehow; fanciful much Jazz?
I held on tighter, somehow his assurance having the opposite effect. Why did I feel like there was something pending? There was an unbearable underlying feeling of sadness.
“Thorn?”
“Yes Milaya.” He kissed my brow and drew me in closer and just like that it was gone. The fear, the worry, the doubt! I snuggled as close as I could get, “nothing.” It was enough that he was there.
***
I slept on and off all day and was spoon fed liquids each time I awakened. He was always there when I opened my eyes, never too far away.
I didn't even think to be embarrassed when he lifted me from the bed and carried me to the bathroom, waiting outside the door until I called out to him that I was done.
My poor body had become weak, and though I was no longer burning up with fever, I still felt less than perfect, though not nearly as close to death as the day before.
Once I awakened to find him gazing at me with this faraway look on his face and in that moment it seemed like another time and place, another Thorn and Jazz.
It jolted me for a moment until his eyes cleared and he smiled at me and I settled once more.
"Lyubof." The word went through me for some strange reason though I had no idea of its meaning.
He was so loving and tender with me throughout the day, no gruff reprimands, and no glares; just answering my every need, sometimes before I voiced them.
By the time dad came home that evening I had been dressed and sitting on the couch after a nice brisk walk, well as brisk as I could manage on my noodle like legs.
He'd ended up carrying me the rest of the way back, which he seemed to do so effortlessly.
"How were you kids today?" Dad was watching Thorn as though he was a coiled snake about to strike, what was that about?
I looked between them again and saw the hard look on Thorn's face. Gone was the easy going boy of the day and in his place wasn't even the hard ass from the school halls.
No, this was a different element entirely, and he looked ten years older and very...Frightening.
"In the kitchen chief." I watched in bewilderment as my father followed the much younger Thorn out of the room. What the hell had just happened here?
Was I in an alternate universe or something? I couldn't hear anything that was being said, I just heard hushed sounds that seemed rather urgent and was making me very nervous.
I decided to snoop and got more than I bargain
ed for, even though I didn't know what it was exactly that I got.
"What is a member of spetsnaz doing in my daughter's high school and better yet what the hell are you doing with my daughter? You say your name is Azarov but...”
“Ssh, keep your voice down. There are things going on here that you do not understand as yet and it is not the time. I will tell her first when the time is right, and then we will share with you.”
“No, you will tell me now or you will leave my house and stay the hell away from my daughter.”
“I'm afraid I can't do that, if I did, your daughter would be dead in a matter of days.”
“What, what the hell are you talking about?”
“The day your daughter became so ill is the day she had decided to be done with me, because in her mind I wasn't moving fast enough.
I was trying to give her time to adjust, but she sees it as neglect. However, when she made up her mind to separate herself from me the part of her that belongs to me rebelled; had I not been there she might've died.”
“What, boy you've seen one too many Stephen King movies, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Ask her. Come here lyubof, and in the future you will not eavesdrop on the conversation of others, it is not polite."
I stepped into the room sheepishly, more confused than ever, and he called me over to him without uttering a word.
I walked into his arms and under his shoulder before turning to dad. "What's spetsnaz and why does it have you so freaked?”
“It would appear your boyfriend is part of Russian special forces, you know the guys that make the men in black look like school boys.”
Dad folded his arms and breathed fire. His words only succeeded in confusing me farther as a prickling sensation travelled down my spine.
Thorn squeezed my shoulder and drew me in closer while I tried to understand my sudden uneasiness. With one touch of his lips to my brow it was gone and I felt nothing more than the joy of being closer to him.
“Enough chief, you must not scare her, there's nothing to fear lyubof I promise you. It's as I said, in time I will reveal all, just not yet okay?" He looked from me to my father.
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