by Lesley Davis
Juliet cracked open one eye and favored her with a look.
“No, I don’t know how she can possibly sleep through all this noise either. I’m guessing though, with that talent, it means that when the baby cries for its midnight feeds it will be me who’ll be hauling her sorry ass out of bed.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Juliet muttered and nestled in deeper into the cushions, draping the blanket over her.
With one last look at Juliet’s worn-out features, Trent pulled her attention back to PJ’s voice and they started their game. Before too long, Trent was aware that Juliet had fallen asleep amid the shouting and shooting.
Throughout the hours-long gaming, Trent cast furtive looks over at Juliet. She was glad Juliet had sought out her company. That even though she was sleeping, she still wanted to be close to Trent. Trent knew her hovering was driving Juliet crazy, but seeing her exhaustion Trent had felt justified in calling her on it. She’d also sent off a text to Monica advising her that Juliet needed to slow down even more and to tread cautiously around Juliet’s fluctuating moods. Trent, however, had been subjected to tempers worse than the one fueled by baby hormones. She’d take whatever Juliet threw at her because Juliet, grumpy or otherwise, never made Trent love her any less. Or feel less loved.
“Stop watching me. You’re supposed to be playing your game.” Juliet shifted on the sofa and settled back down.
“I can’t help it. You’re gorgeous,” Trent replied then grimaced as another voice chimed in her earpiece. “No. Sorry, PJ. I’m sure you’re way cute too, but Juliet has you beat in my eyes. I am too paying attention. See, I just shot that bastard. Goddamnit it, now I have to fork out another fucking dollar. Oh, for Christ’s sake, just shoot me now. No, not you. You’re supposed to be on my team!” Trent growled as she belatedly shut her mouth before any more swear words could escape. She heard Juliet snicker beside her. Trent spared her a swift glare. “If this child is naughty it so got that trait from you!”
Chapter Thirteen
The apartment Scarlet shared with Monica was nothing like what Bryce had imagined it to look like. Seated next to Scarlet on the sofa, food spread out on the table before them, Bryce could peruse the room at her leisure. It was light and spacious and surprisingly devoid of vampiric paraphernalia. Her eyes were drawn to a painting in progress that stood on an easel. It appeared to be Trent, looking stern faced and focused. Her right hand was outstretched in a pose resembling that of Neo from The Matrix halting bullets in mid-air. But instead of bullets, she was controlling a myriad of falling Space Invaders. The stark black, white, and green coloring made the picture look otherworldly. It was also incredibly lifelike.
“That picture is mesmerizing,” Bryce said around a mouthful of food.
“Juliet commissioned it without Trent’s knowledge. She wanted something for Trent to have in her gaming room seeing as there isn’t enough wall space for a mural.” Scarlet filled her plate and ate eagerly. “I am so hungry. I can’t believe I missed out on lunch today.”
“Tell me again why you’re wasting your time decorating houses when you have that kind of talent at your disposal? That picture looks like a photograph and it’s not even finished yet. It’s so lifelike, Scarlet. It’s incredible.”
“The decorating pays the bills. These paintings are a labor of love. As are the photographs I take at the moment. I have just gotten my foot in the door at a photographic studio here, but it’s not full-time like I had before. I need the money I earn from my day job to subsidize what I love doing the most.”
“And then there’s your dad insisting that you start learning the business.” Bryce had heard all about today’s hours spent at the office with Victor. “Scarlet, with this kind of talent, contracting is the last thing you should be doing.”
“But how do I let my father down gently on that fact? He’s made it abundantly clear the business is to be mine and I need to start learning it. He’s even talked about clearing a desk in the office for me for when I’m ‘ready.’ I’m never going to be ready.”
“You’re going to have to fight him all the way, aren’t you?” Bryce figured she knew enough about Scarlet that she wasn’t going to just let Victor Tweedy steer her into a role she didn’t want to fit into. She also knew Victor could be very persuasive to get his own way too.
“Pretty much, but he’s my dad and I’m his only child…and you’ve heard this same argument for the last hour now that even I’m bored with it.” Scarlet stuffed her mouth with food deliberately.
Bryce decided to change the subject. “I must have this Goth thing all wrong because you and Monica don’t live like I expected you to.”
“Monica keeps her coffin strictly in the bedroom with Igor her pet bat.”
Bryce wasn’t entirely sure she was teasing, but at Scarlet’s cocky grin she conceded that maybe she needed to redefine her ideas of what Goth really was.
“Before this night is through, I’m putting some music on and you’re going to educate your senses.”
“You going to sing to me the whole time too?”
“I just might do that.” Scarlet rested her hand on Bryce’s leg. “Thank you for just dropping everything tonight and coming over here to listen to me whine and carry on about being the Chosen One in the Tweedy lineage.”
“It was my pleasure. I got good food, excellent company, and you got an ear to bend. All I had planned was something reheated and another night staring at the TV.” Though not really seeing it and being frightened to fall asleep again like every single night. Bryce was thankful for the distraction from her own thoughts. Being with Scarlet made that doubly enjoyable.
Scarlet laid her plate aside and edged closer to Bryce on the sofa. She rested her head on Bryce’s shoulder. She traced a faint scar’s path along Bryce’s arm.
“I have a lot of those.” Bryce felt Scarlet’s finger run along the patterns left by broken glass and twisted metal.
“They don’t frighten me.”
Scarlet’s warm touch moved across Bryce’s skin, electrifying it under each gentle caress.
“And they certainly don’t stop me from wanting to climb all over you.” Scarlet planted a kiss on Bryce’s neck.
Bryce shivered as soft lips found a particularly sensitive spot. Scarlet took advantage of this knowledge and kissed her again in the same place deliberately. The moan that shuddered out of Bryce’s chest surprised them both. She twisted so she could taste those lips for herself. The sound that escaped Scarlet only made Bryce deepen the kiss more. She was pressed back into the corner of the sofa cushions as Scarlet eagerly settled herself over Bryce’s length. The weight of Scarlet’s body pressing down on her made Bryce burn with arousal. Bryce opened her legs and Scarlet eagerly slid herself between them, cradled by Bryce’s thighs.
Scarlet speared her fingers through Bryce’s hair, tugging at the shorter lengths at the nape of her neck. Her lips clung to Bryce’s, her agile tongue tasted and teased until Bryce opened willingly and let her in. Bryce pulled Scarlet closer still, tightening her arms around Scarlet’s slight frame.
Scarlet finally drew back a fraction. Her breathing was heavy and her eyes darkened in desire. “I swear I didn’t invite you over here just for this.”
“How disappointing.” Bryce leaned up to plant a kiss on Scarlet’s nose. “I’d have caught an earlier bus had I known this was your idea of dessert.”
Scarlet chuckled and snuggled herself into Bryce’s neck, wrapping her arms around her as best she could. “Tell me I’m not hurting your shoulder or ribs.”
“You’re on my good shoulder. And my ribs are more than capable of bearing your slight weight.” Bryce was glad Scarlet had chosen the position she had. She’d have hated to have shown any weakness. She was tired of being held hostage while her body healed. The slight ache in her chest from Scarlet lying on her was a discomfort she was willing to endure. Having Scarlet in her arms was comfort enough.
“I could happily fall asleep like this,” Scarle
t mumbled, her breath heating Bryce’s neck and her lips moving across her skin. “How about you?”
“I don’t sleep anymore,” Bryce admitted.
“Why?”
She asked it so softly that Bryce was unable to lie.
“Because when I sleep, the nightmares come and the dead don’t stop dying.” She heard Scarlet catch her breath and then the arms about her tightened more. After a long moment, Scarlet reached over Bryce’s head to retrieve a remote off the side table. Soft instrumental music began playing.
“Then just rest with me while I hold you. I’d do anything in my power to keep those dreams away. Listen to the music and just let me hold you close.” Scarlet kissed her. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” She linked her fingers with Bryce’s and drew their hands together to rest on Bryce’s chest.
Bryce noticed the differences in their hands. Her own were rough and blunt shaped whereas Scarlet’s were long and tapered. The hands of an artist. Bryce brought their linked hands up to rest over her heart. She closed her eyes and reveled in the moment. Pressed this close, she could feel Scarlet’s full breasts against her own. Scarlet’s longer length curled into Bryce’s shorter frame made her feel oddly protected. The scent of strawberries and sunshine clung to Scarlet’s vibrant hair. Bryce pressed her face closer to breathe her in. The music in the room lulled her and the presence of Scarlet in her arms soothed her. Stripped of her usual coping mechanisms, Bryce slipped into sleep without a qualm.
*
Bryce struggled against the seat belt suspending her upside down in the car. Pain lanced through her entire body. Blood poured into her eyes, blinding her. She shook her head harshly to try to clear her sight. Behind her she could hear the torturous moans and whimpers coming from the backseat. Desperately, Bryce tried to turn around to see if they were okay. She strained her ears, listening for every sign of life. The driver was already gone, ripped away by the truck that had hit them.
She heard a faint voice calling out. A woman’s voice. Calling for her.
“Bryce?”
Bryce struggled even more to break free from her bounds. She knew that voice. She could hear Scarlet. Scarlet was in the backseat. Fingers fumbling, Bryce tore at the confining belt tying her in place. Agony ricocheted through her as her frantic wrestling jarred her fractured bones and wrenched the air from her lungs.
“Bryce?”
She tried so hard to break free from the seat belt. Her fingers grew bloodied as she forcibly tried to rip the belt in two. Her head pounded with an awareness she didn’t want to acknowledge. No one survives in the backseat. Bryce began to wail, a low, desperate sound as her struggle intensified. She couldn’t get free. She couldn’t help. She was trapped. And so was Scarlet.
“Scarlet? Scarlet!”
*
Bryce’s screaming in the dream brought her abruptly awake to find Scarlet hovering above her, shaking her gently by her good shoulder.
“Scarlet?” Bryce’s voice was raspy. For a moment, she wondered if she’d been screaming too. Her throat hurt that much.
“You were dreaming. I had to wake you up.” Scarlet ran a comforting hand through the perspiration soaked hair on Bryce’s forehead.
At the soft touch accidently touching her scar, Bryce lurched upward, nausea rolling through her gut. She scrambled out from under Scarlet, falling from the sofa to land hard on her knees. On shaky legs, she rushed for the bathroom. She just managed to reach the toilet in time before she threw up the contents of her stomach. Her chest burned with every retch, her ribs aching at the pressure. She was vaguely aware of being followed into the room. Scarlet’s hand rubbed soothing patterns over her back as she clung to the toilet bowl.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Bryce didn’t know who she was trying to reassure more, Scarlet or herself. She slipped back and leaned her head against the bathroom wall. With her eyes closed, Bryce heard the sound of water running then felt a soft damp cloth wipe over her sweaty forehead and face. She couldn’t help herself; she almost smiled. No one had taken care of her since her enforced stay in the hospital. A cold glass of water was pressed into her hand and Bryce forced herself back up off the cold tiled floor. She rinsed her mouth out and then gulped the remaining water down to ease her sore throat.
“I’m sorry,” she said gruffly, only now able to look at Scarlet’s worried face as she knelt beside her. “I didn’t mean to all but dump you on your ass in my mad dash to get in here.”
“I don’t care about that. I care about you. You were moving around so much you woke me up. You were whispering my name in such a way that it broke my heart. What was happening, Bryce?”
“You were in my nightmare. In the backseat of that damn fucking car. I needed to get you out. But I couldn’t get to you.” Just remembering the dream made bile rise in Bryce’s throat, and she pressed a hand to her mouth in reflex. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She shivered violently. Her teeth began to chatter together as she was hit by the sheer terror her dream had wrought.
“Have you talked to anyone about the accident?” Scarlet hastily draped a large bath towel around Bryce’s shoulders to keep her warm.
“I gave the police my witness statement.” Bryce wiped her eyes swiftly, but she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Scarlet had been in the car. No one in the backseat lives. Desperately, Bryce clutched at Scarlet’s leg, needing to know she was there. That she was real. That she was alive.
“I don’t mean the official stuff. I meant have you talked to someone qualified to help you heal.” Scarlet covered Bryce’s hand with her own in comfort.
“They offered a psychiatrist. I reneged on going back a second time.” Gingerly, Bryce got to her feet and lowered the lid on the toilet. She flushed it then had to sit back down on it. She clung to the sink, horrified to find her strength drained and tears falling unchecked. Her ribs felt bruised and she rubbed at them distractedly, wishing it would all just go away.
“Bryce.” Scarlet’s tone was scolding even as she rubbed at Bryce’s arms trying to warm her up.
“I didn’t want to relive it.”
“So, you relive it every night instead.” Scarlet, taking no argument, helped Bryce up on her feet. Slowly, she led them as far as the kitchen and helped Bryce into a chair at the table.
Scarlet switched the kettle on and began to fuss with mugs and tea bags. Bryce tugged the fluffy towel higher up her neck, all but hiding in it. “Not if I don’t sleep.”
“You can’t continue like that.”
“I’ve managed so far.”
“Really? Because I seem to recall finding you asleep at work and then tonight you were out like a light the second I got you on your back.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Bryce had to smile through her clattering teeth. “So I like cuddling with you and it made me relax too much.”
“I’m really concerned. Your lack of sleeping is affecting your life. Look at you, sweetheart, you shouldn’t be suffering like this.” Scarlet slid a mug of tea on the table. “Drink it. It will settle your stomach.”
Bryce distracted herself by sipping the hot liquid and tried not to think about the endearment Scarlet had just spoken. “You want to know about the crash? It won’t make any difference. I was in a car crash. I’ve got the scars to show for it. I was the only one who walked away.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
Bryce’s head shot up. “Excuse me?”
Scarlet slipped into the chair opposite her. “How does that make you feel?”
“I’ve told you I don’t want to get into this.” She shook so hard she had to set her mug back down for fear of spilling its contents.
“Well, I know I’m very thankful you survived.” Scarlet reached across the table and took Bryce’s cold hand. “It frightens me to think how close I came to losing you before I even knew you.”
“Three of them were married.” Bryce blurted the words out in a rush. She couldn’t stop herself. “The people with me
in the car. They had wives and a husband and kids. The driver was newly engaged and his fiancé lost him too. I was in a crappy relationship with a woman who came to the hospital only to run when she saw what I looked like. I shouldn’t have even been in that car. They were doing me a favor. Yet I got to live and I had no life worth celebrating. The others in that car left families mourning their losses. They didn’t deserve that, not when I got to survive.”
The grip on Bryce’s hand tightened until it was almost painful. “Bryce—” Scarlet started, but Bryce cut her off.
“I need to go home.” Embarrassed by the fact she was still crying, Bryce roughly rubbed her face in the towel. She was shaking so much she could barely keep her grip on it.
“It’s late.” Scarlet pointed to the kitchen clock. It read 10:45 p.m.
“There’s a last bus I can catch if I go now. I won’t sleep any more tonight, and you don’t need me keeping you awake.” Bryce finished off her tea and stood up. “Thank you for tonight. I’m only sorry I ruined it.”
“You didn’t ruin anything and I don’t want you to go. You’re in no condition to leave.” Scarlet stood up as if preparing to bar the door.
“I need to go, Scarlet. You don’t need to put up with what I’m going through. I can hardly cope with it myself.” Arms suddenly wrapped around her, and Bryce all but crumpled in Scarlet’s tight grasp. “Please don’t,” she gasped, unable to cope with the need to just give in and be comforted.
“I believe you survived for a reason,” Scarlet stated fiercely.
“I can’t see why.”
“Maybe that’s because the reason hasn’t revealed itself to you yet. I firmly believe everything has a reason for being. You lived because it wasn’t your time to die.”
Bryce barely managed to keep herself upright. Her knees buckled under the weight of the survivor’s guilt that suffocated her very soul. Only Scarlet’s arms kept her on her feet.