Darkly Sweet

by Juliann Whicker

  I leaned my head down against his shoulder, pressing my cheek against the warm skin of his neck, not warm, hot, volcanic. I inhaled deeply while I trembled, my nose brushing against his throat. Black cherry bloomed from his skin until I was dizzy from it.

  He stiffened up and pushed away from me, dropping my hands and crossing his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat. “What’s your problem?”

  My arms slid down the car door until they were limp at my sides. “Problem? What problem?”

  He raised an eyebrow, cocking his head. “I would have to be very oblivious not to notice how…” He blinked and something shifted across his face. “I have a temper. Seeing you so afraid of me when I’ve put so much effort into reining in my less gentlemanly impulses doesn’t agree with me. I apologize for grabbing you like that.”

  I cocked my head while I studied him. I really wanted to close the distance between us so I could focus on his skin, his scent instead of the growing tangle in my stomach. It should be easing by now. I wasn’t in the car anymore, but apparently the fear wasn’t in any hurry to move along. “That was your temper? Really? That’s kind of disappointing.”

  He stared at me steadily. “How so? You want me to ravage you against a car?”

  I smiled a shaky trembling smile because that’s the only kind I had. “Is that what being ravaged is like? I don’t think you’re very good at it. Not to insult you, but you didn’t even kiss me.”

  His mouth twitched, but that was the only reaction. “You want me to kiss you?”

  “Oh, no! I’d probably throw up in your mouth, and no one deserves that. Do you mind… would you… can I…” I closed my eyes tight and then took the two steps until I’d bumped into him. He stood there while I leaned against him, inhaling deeply while my heart pounded and the nausea clawed at my throat. He smelled of volcano again and then black cherry, and then a weird mix before he grabbed my shoulders and held me away from him.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  I blinked at him while involuntary and disgusting tears filled my eyes. “I’m afraid of cars. Sorry. I should have mentioned it before I rode with you, but it hasn’t been so bad for a really long time, and I just sort of hoped it was over. I can sit in the back without having such a pathetic and disgusting reaction but the front turns me into a sniveling wreck. I’m sorry I wanted to touch you. You smell like really interesting things and your skin is hot so it’s distracting from the nausea and the eels swimming around my intestines, unless my guts are eels, and that’s the problem.”

  He stared at me, his eyebrows coming together while his fingers dug into my shoulders until he jerked me back against him. I inhaled deeply and pressed my face against his skin.

  “I’ll take this as you begging me to grab you. It’s not quite the scenario I imagined, but maybe I should get used to being surprised where you’re concerned.” He pulled me closer making my stomach lurch.

  “Be gentle or I’ll surprise you with vomit.”

  “How am I supposed to be surprised if you warn me?” He gave me another only slightly gentler squeeze.

  “No one likes puke surprises.”

  “I do. I like all kinds of surprises, particularly about you. Do you prefer me to hold you closer to me, or further away, and where should I put my hands for maximum distraction, that’s what we’re doing, right? Distracting you from your fear? I could tickle you.”

  “I’d definitely throw up.”

  “I could kiss you.”

  I tried to pull away, but when fear gripped me I was about as strong as a dishrag. “I told you, I’d probably vomit in your mouth.”

  “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  I snorted and smiled against his neck. “You really know how to live on the edge.”

  He leaned his cheek against my hair and relaxed his hands, sliding them around my shoulders to my back. “You have no idea. Do you want me to talk about my edges? I have so many. The edge of my nose, my shins, although you already know my shins intimately. I like going fast in cars, on horses, anything really. Speed, the thrill of almost dying, it’s one of the things I live for.”

  “You live to feel like you’re dying? That makes sense.” I hesitated before I added in a pathetic, mewl, “talking helps.”

  His hands smoothed across my back sending a shiver over my skin in spite of the nausea knotting my stomach. “Your hands are still gripping your skirt like you’re trying to strangle it. I’ve seen a lot of people vulnerable, terrified, but you’re the first one who asked about my grandmother. You have ridiculously good manners for a petrified person.”

  I shuddered while a wave of terror swept through me. I gasped while my stomach knotted tighter and bile coated my throat. I twisted to the side right before I threw up.

  Drake kept one arm around me and pulled my hair back with the other hand so I wouldn’t have to wash out puke. Really, it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. What was wrong with him? I retched until my stomach was horribly empty and

  then I kind of dangled from Drake, his arm wrapped around my ribs, his hand spread over my side so there wasn’t any pressure on my stomach.

  I stayed like that, with trails of spit dripping from my lips until I straightened and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

  I stared at the hospital with him behind me, still holding onto me. I waited for him to hurt me, to say the words I deserved for being so weak, so pathetic and disgusting. I counted the windows of the two-story gray building while I concentrated on breathing in and out.

  “You’re missing two ribs.”

  I covered his hand with mine, the strong fingers wrapped around my side, the position perfect for burying into my vulnerable side and squeezing my internal organs.

  “Car accident. Five years old. Six weeks in the ICU. It’s stupid. I should be over it.”

  He didn’t squeeze anything, but held still, very still like he was holding my organs in place, protecting me. “You lost two ribs in a car accident when you were five? It must have been horrible.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t remember. It’s disgusting to be afraid of something I can’t even remember.”

  He let go of my hair and wrapped his other arm around me, brushing his fingers along my jaw. “You keep saying that. I’m not sure what’s so disgusting about fear.

  Terrifying, yes, disgusting, no.”

  “You don’t think being thrown up on is disgusting?”

  He tightened his arms only slightly, pulling my back closer to his chest. “Not particularly. You can’t live on the edge without encountering things like blood, broken bones poking out of your skin, vomit, urine, you didn’t even piss yourself. It’s impressive.”

  I ground my teeth and stiffened up as the fear loosed its hold on me and I had the delayed realization of who exactly had seen my core, my true self. I had the genetic disposition to be nothing more than a spineless coward and now Drake Huntsman knew it.

  “You’re feeling better. That means I should let go of you. For some reason, I don’t want to. You must hate me having my hand here, right where you’re most vulnerable. I could hurt you so easily.”

  “So, hurt me.”

  “That wouldn’t bother you as much as seeing you throw up. No, I think I’ve tortured you enough for one day. Have to save something for next time.”

  He let go of me and I whirled around, staring at him wildly. He wasn’t smiling, frowning, anything really. He watched, waiting to see what I’d do next. Right. I was Penny Macaroon Lane, human gumball. How did that work? I inhaled shudderingly and licked my lips. I needed a lollipop.

  I took a step towards him and gave him a weak smile. “Will you please move? You’re blocking the door. I left my bag in your car.”

  He raised an eyebrow before he turned and got my bag out then held it up in front of me, strap dangling from his hand.

  I held out my hand and waited incredibly patiently until he lowered it, his fingers brushing mine, sending awareness through me
that I hadn’t had to deal with when I was scared stupid. So there was one perk to being scared. I smiled at him brightly while I fished through my bag until I found the right kind of lollipop. I unwrapped the cellophane with trembling fingers.

  I walked towards the hospital, my legs weak and not only from ballet. He walked beside me, blatantly staring at me.

  “What are you looking at?” I turned my head and saw his slight smile, eyes narrowing seductively as he took a step closer to me until his arm brushed mine.

  “I’m starting to feel things I’ve never felt before. Confusion mostly. Penny, are you really so afraid of something that irrational?”

  “It’s not irrational. People die in car crashes all the time.” It was irrational. I couldn’t even remember it, but it still haunted me, controlled me.

  “But it is disgusting, right?”

  I inhaled sharply, feeling my shoulders tighten. Yes. It was.

  “It’s not, but someone’s worked very hard to convince you that it is, that you are.

  Your mother?”

  I laughed. “My mother?” How did he think I knew about how disgusting fear was? I’d seen her a sniveling wreck when she tried to leave the house. She’d made it down the steps and across the dirt drive. I had to drag her back inside by her hair because she was out of her mind at that point and couldn’t find the house through her hysterical tears while Revere was off getting groceries or something.

  “Not your mother. Father?”

  I shook my head tightly. “Revere is the only father-figure I have. Everything about me disgusts him.”

  “Particularly your tea party outfits?”

  I shrugged. “Not particularly. My mother hates them the most.” The walk to the hospital was taking forever. Why didn’t he stop talking? He should be tired of me at this point. The novelty couldn’t possibly be there after I’d thrown up, whatever annoying thing he said.

  “Is it the pink or the ruffles she finds objectionable?”

  I stopped walking and turned to stare at him. “Either, both? What does it matter?

  Why are you doing this?”

  “Community service is good for the soul and my soul is pretty sick.”

  I sucked on my lollipop while I stared at him, his eyes glinting with amusement. He found this whole thing amusing, me scared, me pathetic, me out of control. He was genuinely enjoying himself.

  “Why did you want to drag me out of my room when I’m tired and hungry and need to do so much that I just can’t do? I can’t even ride in a car without breaking down.

  You’re Drake flaming Huntsman. Why don’t you find someone who would appreciate the whole rapturous experience and not throw up on you? I know that school is probably pretty boring, and I’m a new thing, but it’s not fun for me. You should drag someone to the edge who likes it there instead of someone whose only glorious accomplishment is making lollipops.”

  He raised an eyebrow as he kept walking towards the building. “When are you going to let me have one? They’re supposed to be incredible.”

  I scowled but it was okay because he wasn’t looking at me. Still, I should control myself, the parts I could control. I forced a sweet smile to my mouth. “Are they?”

  “Barry told me all about it. I think he has a little crush on you. He’s only a junior though, so I’d take it easy on him.”

  I blew out noisily. “No, you’d see his weakness and pounce on it. You are the big bad wolf.”

  He glanced at me grinning before he started muttering under his breath.

  “What are you saying?”

  “Foreign language. Don’t worry about it.” He continued his muttering like a crazy person all the way to the revolving door. “Shall we?” He finally stopped the muttering and gestured me through.

  I gave him a polite smile I reserved for crazy people like my mother and headed into the hospital lobby.

  Chapter 12

  It smelled weird, like pine tree air fresheners and rubber. He led me past the front desk and down a hall. When he opened a door at the end of the hall, a woman wearing blue scrubs smiled at him.

  “The doctor is on his way. Would either of you like a lollipop?”

  Drake glanced at me and raised an eyebrow before he took a sucker from the nurse.

  “Thanks. She’s already got one so I’ll take hers too.” He winked at the woman and she blushed and shook her head, tutting at him.

  “Drake, and Penny isn’t it?”

  I turned and smiled at the young doctor who held a clipboard in his steady hands.

  He was kind of cute.

  I gave him a little wave. “Hi. Thanks for letting us come by.”

  Drake gave me a quick look before turning towards the doctor. “That’s right. There’s nothing more uplifting than community service.”

  The doctor spoke to the nurse. “Dottie, take Penny to visit our young princesses.

  Drake, you come with me.”

  I felt practically normal, as though I hadn’t had a complete breakdown in the parking lot, as I followed Dottie out the door and down the hall towards a room full of kids, many of them without any hair. I froze in the doorway while they all looked at me, eyes large and their little bodies so small. It smelled like pain and fear, the horrible feeling I’d been paralyzed by so recently. I swallowed and forced a fabulously happy smile to my lips.

  “Hi!”

  One little girl came up and stared at me, standing right in front of me with the most enormous brown eyes in her sweet face. “Are you Rapunzel?”

  I hesitated as the other little girls gathered around me before I nodded. “That’s right, I’m Rapunzel. I was trapped in my tower by my wicked witch of a mother.”

  Another girl gasped and reached out to touch my long, strawberry gold curls. “How did you escape? Did a prince rescue you?”

  I knelt down on the floor, and the girls all gathered around, leaning forward, anxious to hear every word about my exciting escape. I made it good, embellishing the story about the bored princess in her tower, giving her a magic cloak and mirror that she could travel to alternate dimensions with, and then how she met her prince in one of these worlds, but he couldn’t see her face beneath the cloak or her mother would know and curse her to never leave her tower again.

  I used to tell stories to my pets, the vermin I collected and dressed up for tea parties.

  The kids were a much better audience. None of them bit me and they gasped at all the best parts.

  “Even though he could never see my face, he loved me because I was smart, funny, kind and stubborn. He liked stubbornness in women. In his small village, many people were afraid of the unknown. Someone raised the cry of witch, and wanted to burn me, accusing me of being a monster beneath the hood. To save me, the prince pulled back my hood, revealing my face and brilliant eyes, but alas, the moment he saw me, I was pulled back through the mirror to the tower where my wicked witch of a mother waited.”

  They gasped and I sighed dramatically as I tried to think how to make this story have a happy ending with me looking cute in a hospital. The kids leaned forward, eyes rapt as they waited, breathless to find out what happened to their princess.

  “Finally, after searching through all the different worlds for thousands of years using the magic cloak, the man found my world, the birds I’d described, the color of the sky, everything exactly as I’d named it. He searched for me for years until he finally came to my tower. Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, that I may climb the golden stair.”

  I frowned at them. “Having someone climb up your hair isn’t any fun. Even though I loved my prince very much, I insisted that he had to find a different way up to my tower.

  He tried catching a flock of birds and having them carry him to the top, but he picked sparrows, and we all know how bird-brained they are. Next, he tried lassoing the top of the tower to climb up, but of course every time he got his lasso around the building, the rope slid down to the ground. Finally, gathering his courage, he scaled the tower, fin
gers gripping the stones as he clung to his love and his hope. By the time he reached the top, he was really tired, so I gave him a nice cup of tea, and then we captured a flock of ravens, which are very intelligent birds, and flew far away where the wicked witch could never find us again.”

  I smiled while they sighed happily. One girl with a shiny bare head reached out to stroke my hair. Another girl did the same. I thought I’d mind, feel poked and prodded, but instead I felt kind of aching. I couldn’t imagine losing my hair. All the other things I’d lost, all the pain, fear, I’d always had my hair to hide me from the rest of the world.

  “Do you guys want to fix my hair? I have a comb in my bag.”

  They cheered and scrambled all over me, tugging and wrestling until each girl had her own strand of hair to do whatever she liked with. I learned their names while they braided and knotted my hair, learned what they liked, how long they’d been in the hospital, what they liked about it, what they didn’t like, which ones missed their families, which ones missed their pets. I told them funny stories about Señor Mort and they

  clapped their hands in delight when I described him in his hat and vest, drinking tea like a gentleman.

  When Drake came to find me, my hair tangled into knots with all sorts of garish hair bows, ribbons, and clips, I didn’t want to leave. Not just because I’d have to ride in the car with Drake, double shudder, but because for a long time I’d forgotten that I was supposed to be something else, someone else.

  I waved goodbye over and over, promising that I’d come back while Drake stood in the doorway, waiting, watching, his eyes kind of dangerous. Was he the kind of person who would mindlessly search for something for a thousand years? No, he wouldn’t waste his time. He’d wrap things up much more quickly.

  I should make the kids lollipops. Peppermint for nausea, something for the pain, and of course, something to make them happy.

  “What are you thinking about?”