by M. Leighton
I considered that scenario for just a moment. “Good point.” When it sank in, what he’d said, I asked, “Ambulance?”
“Yeah. I went to check on Connors and found his cell phone at the edge of the trees. I guess it got thrown when you flipped. I called 911.”
“When will they be here? What should I tell them?”
“Crap,” he said under his breath. “I’d say they’ll be here in the next five or ten minutes.”
It took me a few seconds to put it together, but I assume that he had glanced down at his watch before realizing that he’d taken it off with the rest of his clothes. That’s why the “crap” comment. The whole situation was almost comical. Almost.
I asked a second time. “What should I tell them?”
“Just tell them what happened and that you crawled out of the car and found the cell phone and then called for help.”
He made a noise, as if he’d started to say something, but changed his mind.
I’d discovered I didn’t like him keeping things from me. Bo’s secrets tended to be a pretty big deal, so I prompted, “What?”
“Well, they’ll probably want to check you out.”
“Yeah. So?”
“Well, it might be a good idea if you got rid of that bloody shirt with a hole in it and just wore mine.”
“Oh. Good idea,” I said. At least someone was thinking. I was still having trouble getting rid of the image of a naked Bo only a few inches away.
“Would you mind if I checked your side?”
I didn’t have to see his face to know that’s what he’d been hesitant to ask. He was so careful with me, so considerate of me. I just smiled and shook my head.
“Let me help you up,” Bo said, tugging on my hand.
I stood and pulled Bo’s shirt over my head. “Here. Hold this,” I said, holding his shirt out in his general direction. He took it and the shirt just hung there as if suspended in mid air. I tucked the vision away for later, when I’d likely pull it out and remember, with awe and wonder, what crazy things I’d seen in my life since I’d met Bo.
I took a deep breath and sucked in my stomach before reaching for the hem of my tattered t-shirt and peeling it up to my shoulders. I was careful not to get more blood all over me, though it wasn’t too difficult since most of the blood had already dried.
As I pulled the shirt over my head and shook my hair loose, I became aware of heat traveling up my stomach and across my breasts. Even though I couldn’t see them, I could actually feel Bo’s eyes on me, like he was touching everything I was exposing. It was incredibly unnerving, but one of the most erotic things I’ve ever experienced.
Letting my shirt dangle from my fingertips, I raised my arms over my head and turned slightly to the side so Bo could look at my belly.
My abdominals clenched when I felt his fingertips brush lightly over the bloody skin where a hole had been not so long ago.
“Give me your shirt,” Bo said, his voice hoarse and low, not much more than a deep rumble in the quiet forest.
I handed him my shirt and I watched as he used one of the clean spots on it to rub as much of the residual blood from me as he could. He was so close I could feel his cool breath on my skin and a rash of chills broke out across my stomach and chest.
I closed my eyes and let the stimulation of my senses flood my mind. I could hear Bo’s shallow breathing. I could feel the gentle rasp of cotton on my skin. I could smell Bo’s tangy scent enveloping me. My body tingled and throbbed with every beat of my heart.
Though I couldn’t see him, in my mind’s eye, I could plainly see Bo’s head at my navel, as if it played like a movie against the backs of my lids. It wasn’t hard to let my imagination rewrite the scene in a much different way.
I saw Bo’s arms wrap around me and I felt his lips on my skin. I felt his thick hair running through my fingers and his rough palms against my bare breasts.
Warmth poured through my veins as I lost myself to the fantasy. When Bo spoke, his voice startled me.
“Ridley, if we’re gonna make it out of here, you’re gonna have to stop thinking about stuff like that.”
I felt heat rush into my cheeks. How could he know what I was thinking?
“Stuff like what?”
“Stuff like what you were thinking. This is hard enough for me as it is, without that,” he said.
“How could you possibly know what I was thinking?”
“I can smell it on you. It saturates your blood with hormones and heats it up,” he explained. “And it’s driving me crazy.”
If possible, even more heat scorched my cheeks. I’m sure they were probably beet red.
“I- I—” I stuttered, not knowing what to say.
I saw his shimmer as he stood. He was so close I knew that I could nip his chin with my teeth without moving more than an inch.
“And knowing that my blood is pumping through your body, that a part of me is inside you,” he paused, his sigh a shaky puff of air that tickled my face. “It’s killing me.”
His words poured through my veins like lava, making my knees weak and my skin flush.
“Bo,” I groaned.
I felt it when he stepped back.
Bo thrust his shirt at me. “Here, put this on and get to the road. They’re coming.”
In the quiet, I could hear the wail of sirens from far away. As I pulled Bo’s shirt on, I heard him turn and walk through the woods and then I saw his pile of clothes rise into the air, as if by magic.
“I’ll see you later,” he called softly and then he was gone.
When I could hear Bo no longer, I turned and made my way toward Drew’s car. I had no trouble finding it; I could smell it. He’d always kept a cherry scented air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror and I followed the aroma through the forest like a trail of bread crumbs.
I jogged easily through the woods, feeling more energetic than ever. Once I got to within a few hundred yards of the car, I could see it—clearly, as if I was standing near it in the bright light of day, even though dusk had almost given way to night.
The ambulance pulled up a couple of minutes after I arrived at the car and, as Bo suspected, they immediately wanted to give me a thorough once-over. Luckily, because I was walking around and making sense and I didn’t appear to be bleeding, they didn’t dig too deeply (like underneath my clothes). One of the cops who accompanied the EMTs did, however, dig into my story as he drove me back to my house.
When a cop dropped me off at the house, I got the fifth degree from Mom and Dad, which surprised me. I think it brought back terrible memories for them. I’m sure they were terrified of losing another child in a car accident, even if that child was like a phantom houseguest to them most of the time.
When they finally fulfilled their parental obligations, they let me go to my room. I pushed the door shut behind me and leaned back against it, closing my eyes and breathing a sigh of relief. My room was my sanctuary.
The air smelled stagnant and made me feel claustrophobic, so I walked to my window to raise it. Before I reached it, I heard the screech of wood scraping against a metal track as my window rose.
My feet faltered and I slowed, creeping closer to the window. Just as I stopped in front of it, the intoxicating scent of Bo assailed me and I felt that bone-deep yearning that so often overcame me when he was near.
“Bo?”
“I’m here,” he said from somewhere outside my window.
“Did you just—”
I trailed off. Of course he did. How else would my window get raised?
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said.
I saw the screen pop out and then heard the shuffling sounds of him crawling through the window. I wondered about how he’d gotten the window up through the screen, but the thought was lost as soon as Bo started walking toward me. I couldn’t see him, but my nerves stirred with every step he took in my direction. It made the hairs on my arms stand at attention.
“I want
ed to make sure you were alright,” he said, coming to stand in front of me. He was so close, I could feel the coolness of his body radiating toward me, like standing in front of an open refrigerator door.
“I’m fine.” And that was entirely true now that he was here. “I see that you didn’t go home,” I said, referring to his transparency.
“I wanted to keep any eye on you until you got home safely.” Gently, he rubbed the backs of his fingers over my side, where I’d been impaled. Even through his shirt, my skin felt chilled. “How does it feel?”
“Fine, like it always has. It doesn’t even hurt,” I assured him. I left out any mention of how his touch was affecting the rest of me.
Bo lifted up the edge of his shirt and slid his fingertips along my skin.
“Yow! Your hands are like ice,” I yelped.
Bo jerked his hand back as if I’d slapped him. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
I felt him step back from me, and I instantly regretted my reaction. I stepped toward him to close the gap between us. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body to his, goose bumps breaking out all over my skin. I steeled myself against the cold, determined not to shiver.
“Bo, you’re freezing. How long can you stay like this? Without food?”
“A while.”
I could hear the weakness in his voice, feel the little tremor that vibrated through his body.
A solution occurred to me, one that brought a hint of fear and dread, but one that I felt compelled to offer.
“Could you, um, drink from me?”
Again, Bo jerked back as if I’d hurt him. “No!”
His reaction made me feel dirty or unsavory, like the thought of drinking my blood was somehow repugnant to him.
“Why?” I couldn’t keep the hurt from my voice.
“I will never do that,” he spat.
“But why? You need blood. I can give you that, just like you gave me yours.”
“I don’t drink from humans. Only killers and monsters do that.”
I felt ashamed for even having suggested it, though my motives had been pure.
I didn’t understand his reaction. He was a vampire. Vampires drink blood. He needed blood. I had blood. What was I missing?
“You’ve never taken blood from a human?”
“I drink blood donated to the blood bank,” he replied, not really answering my question at all.
“Have you always done that? I mean, you’ve never had it from a real live person?”
Bo’s hesitation answered my question before he even opened his mouth.
“Ah,” I said, comprehension dawning and bringing with it more hurt. “You just don’t want my blood.”
Bo’s voice was tender and sincere when he responded. “If I drank from humans, you would be the only person I’d want to drink from.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“I just,” he paused, sighing. I heard a rasping sound and I knew he was running his fingers through his hair. “I did, once. But I promised myself I’d never do it again. And I haven’t. It’s like poison of a different kind, poison for your soul.”
I tried not to be frustrated by his not-an-answer answers. “I’m assuming you don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s not my favorite topic, no.”
“Then maybe you should go,” I suggested. It sounded pouty and I hated that, so I added, “You need to feed and I’m pretty beat.”
Bo was quiet for what seemed like an eternity before he responded. “Alright.”
I heard his practically silent footsteps as he made his way to the window.
“Will you be alright?”
“I’ll be fine. I just wanted to check on you,” he said.
I heard the sounds of him exiting through the window just before his voice traveled back to me.
“Sweet dreams, Ridley,” he whispered and then, once again, I was alone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Monday dawned clear and cool. When I got to school, the halls were abuzz with tales of Drew’s recovery from our car accident. He was quite the miraculous survivor, if the chatter of the girls was any indication. Apparently he was made of steel, superhuman and quite invincible.
I just shook my head and pushed through the throng, making my way to my locker. A few rows down from mine, I saw Savannah standing with Devon at his locker. He looked up and I smiled. He looked happier than I’d seen him in a long time. I watched as Savannah stretched up on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear and then she turned to walk away—and made her way to me.
“So,” she said, coming to a chipper halt to my right and leaning up against the locker beside mine. “I totally owe you.”
Puzzled, I glanced over into her cocoa eyes and asked, “Owe me for what?”
“For getting that skanky strumpet off my back,” she clarified, wrinkling her pert nose.
I couldn’t help but smile. Savannah was a very unique personality, and very animated as well. “Strumpet?”
“Yeah. I read trashy romance novels. They’ve scrambled my brain and ruined my vocabulary.”
“Strumpet,” I repeated, resisting the urge to laugh.
“Yeah, it’s like slut or whore. Tramp.”
“No, I know what it means, I just haven’t heard anyone use that word in, oh I don’t know…ever,” I teased.
She shrugged, unperturbed. “What can I say? I’m a trendsetter.”
This time I actually did laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
Bo’s velvety voice caused my blood to jump excitedly inside my veins. I’d been so focused on Savannah, I hadn’t felt him coming.
He spoke right beside my ear and a shower of goose flesh rained down my neck and chest, causing my nipples to tighten. I could feel a burning heat emanating from Bo’s body where he stood at my back. I wanted to melt right into him. It was all I could do not to close my eyes and sigh at the pleasure running through me.
“My stunning grasp of the English language,” Savannah supplied in answer to Bo’s question.
I could almost have forgotten she was there. I could almost have forgotten the rest of the world at that moment.
“Ah,” was his only response.
Savannah threw me a cheeky smile. “Although I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our stroll through the thesaurus, what I really came to talk to you about is a double date.”
“A what?”
“A double date,” she repeated.
“With who?”
“Me and Devon.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Bo answered. “We can talk some more about it at lunch.”
“Fabulous,” she beamed, turning to flounce off down the hall.