Don't Write it Down (Rainbow Noir, #1)

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Don't Write it Down (Rainbow Noir, #1) Page 9

by C. E. Wilson


  “You certainly are a smart one, aren’t you?” he snaps. “Are you the product of American schooling? Congratulations, you’re a certified genius.”

  I wince. “Hey, screw you,” I grumble as I pull my backpack strap tighter around my frail shoulders. “I was going to help but if you’re going to be an ass about it...” I start to walk away.

  “Wait!” the voice cries out. “Wait. I’m sorry...”

  I turn back, but make no move to get closer. I’m having a conversation with a total stranger. Who is small. And stuck in a tree. And, despite it all, very cute. “What is it?” I ask.

  “I need your help.”

  “Oh really? So you’re actually admitting it now?”

  “Yes, you little—” he starts to huff, but when I narrow my eyes at him, he seems to visibly settle down again. “I mean, yes. You can see I’m stuck and I need help. You’re the first person who’s even looked my way.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” he grunts. “I saw a few kids earlier, but they ignored me. Little shits. Wait till I figure out who they are.”

  “How did you end up there in the first place?” I can’t help asking.

  As he starts his story, I find myself mesmerized by his appearance. He’s pale like me and his hair is a darker brown than mine, his might even be black. But his eyes, even in the late sunset, I can see how dark they are. Where mine are a pale light blue, uncomfortably light blue, his are the color of a night sky. I often joke that I have ‘vampire vision’ because I have such a hard time being in the sunlight, but most people think I’m exaggerating. I can’t help but think that this guy must see better in the dark than he does in the daylight. His hoodie is as white as the t-shirt under it is black. His entire existence seems to be in contrast with each other. Black eyes and hair with pale skin. A black t-shirt but a stark white hoodie. Dark jeans but incredibly white shoes which practically glow in the dark. Oddly enough, I’m attracted to him immediately.

  “Are you even listening?” he hisses.

  I shake my head when I realize I haven’t been paying any attention to his story. I nod, feeling guilty about it and to my relief he doesn’t ask me to prove that I’ve been listening. He doesn’t seem to care.

  “So?” he asks.

  “So what?”

  “Are you going to help me get out of this tree or not?”

  “I...” I trail off and take a hesitant step closer the tree. As I look up at him, I bite my lower lip.

  “What?” he asks again impatiently. “Do you want to take a picture or something? I dare you. I dare you to try it—”

  “I should probably get someone to help,” I say over him.

  “What? Why? Just climb up and help loosen my hood. I’d do it myself, but I can’t reach it.”

  “I probably shouldn’t climb.”

  I expect him to start yelling again, but he remains still. Those jet-black eyes are observing me carefully and instinctively I wipe my mouth, hoping there isn’t blood. I hate when I have blood on my lips, trailing down my chin or out my nose. I don’t see how vampires are sexy to anyone, I have blood on my face all the time and it always makes me disgusted. I like to joke that my lungs pump more blood than my heart. It generally gets very few laughs.

  “You’re sick,” he says suddenly. “I didn’t notice it before, but you’re sick.”

  “I’m not that sick,” I say defensively as I check my hands for any traces of red stains. They look clean... how does he know? “I just have a cold—”

  “Sure you do,” he snaps. When I pretend like I am going to walk away again, he holds up his tiny, pale hands. “Alright! Whatever! Come on. Can you help me down? If you help me, I promise to make it worth your while.”

  “I don’t need your money,” I say, setting down my backpack nonetheless.

  “Good, because I probably don’t have enough to thank you for this.”

  As I stand in front of the tree, I realize that maybe it’s not as high as I initially thought. A normal person could climb up to him pretty easily. And at least then I could have something to hold over my parents’ heads. See? I can’t be that sick, I climbed a tree! See? I can’t be that sick, I saved a strange, cute, rude guy who’s the size of a child!

  “Isn’t there anything you do want?” he asks. His deep voice is laced with honest curiosity.

  “No,” I mutter, looking up at the tree. I cough a bit, but I am able to calm it down before I need my inhaler. I glance over my shoulder, remembering it’s in my backpack if I need it. But for now, I know I should start to work on freeing this strange little man.

  “You sure you don’t want to ask me for anything?” he asks a second time. Or maybe it’s a third. “Anything at all?”

  “No,” I mutter, frustrated now. “Stay where you are and I’ll come up.”

  “And you’re sure it’s safe?”

  “It’s as safe as anything.” I start to work my way up the trunk. It isn’t terrible. In fact, it’s easier than I thought it would be. I had almost forgotten what physical activity was like. Digging my dirty fingernails into the bark to steady myself, I reach the first branch I can rest on. I’m out of breath and already beginning to regret leaving my inhaler on the ground. I feel alright, but I’m exhausted. I look up the tree and see that he’s only in the branch after the next one. Meaning I only have to make a climb like this two more times.

  And then I’ll have to find a way to get down.

  “Say...” the guy asks.

  “What?”

  “I guess it would be proper to ask what your name is, right? Considering you’re coming up here to help me out.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “I asked first.”

  “Hadley,” I mutter.

  “Hadley?” he repeats. He makes the name sound as ridiculous as some of my friends do. “Did your parents lose a bet?”

  “So what’s your name?” I ask, preparing to make my next trip up through the branches. I take a deep breath and swallow the taste of iron down my throat.

  “Call me Hunter,” he says.

  “Call you Hunter? So that’s not your real name?”

  “It’s my last name,” he says. “You don’t need to worry about my first. No one calls me that.”

  “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” I say, steadying my feet for the next climb. This time it’s a little easier and I can’t help but feel a pride in my accomplishment. My parents would never believe I climbed a tree on the way home after a yearbook meeting. They’re probably convinced that I’m passed out in a ditch somewhere, cradling my inhaler like a baby does a bottle. But no, look at me now! The amazing Hadley is climbing a tree to save a cute goth guy the size of a child who curses like a sailor.

  “And you’re sick. Do you know that?” Hunter shoots back.

  “I told you, I’m not sick.”

  “You’re either in denial or a terrible liar,” Hunter says. “Are you sure I can’t offer you something to say thank you?”

  “What are you?” I steady myself on the second branch. “Some sort of leprechaun? You got a pot of gold up there or something?”

  “A leprechaun? Why in the hell would you think I’m one of those make-believe bastards?” His breath hitches as something occurs to him. “Oh yeah, it’s my size, isn’t it? Throwing you off a bit, huh?”

  “It doesn’t help,” I say, smiling as I know I’ve finally wounded his pride. He sounds cocky and knocking him down a few pegs is probably good for him.

  “Don’t worry about how I look now,” he mutters. “I swear, in the daylight I’m quite debonair.”

  “Debonair?” I stifle a chuckle, then a cough.

  “I didn’t stutter.”

  “Whatever, just hang on. I’m almost there.”

  “Don’t fall,” he says in a warning tone.

  “Why would you care if I did?”

  “Shut up and get me out of this damn tree,” he says.

  When I reach his branch I’m surprised t
o see him up close. He’s cuter than I imagined, and from here I can see the finer details. He’s wearing a dark chain around his neck, but I can’t tell if there’s something on the end of it because it’s tucked under his shirt. He’s probably closer to my age than I thought. I swallow and wriggle my way past him so I can sit down and take a look at where he’s snagged. I want to ask how this happened, but he’s already explained once and I didn’t listen so I guess it serves me right for not paying attention.

  “If you want to admit you weren’t listening earlier, I’ll tell you again how this happened,” he says, as though reading my mind.

  I flush. “A leprechaun and a mind reader? It must be my lucky day, but no thanks.” I crawl a little closer to him but suddenly I’m nervous about setting him free. What if he’s some sort of serial killer and this is how he tricks people into helping him? Scenes from Silence of the Lambs fill my vision and my hand remains frozen in the air as I try to make sure I’d be safe. Suddenly I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing.

  “Are you going to free me or not?” he asks irritably.

  “I... you’re not going to kill me, are you?”

  He raises a dark eyebrow. “Why would you ask a question like that? Do I look like the Grim Reaper to you?”

  “No. Not exactly...”

  “So help me out. You’re already up here. You might as well finish the job.”

  “R-right...right,” I say, leaning closer. My hair brushes against his skin and my cheeks grow hot. He smells good – not like me. He doesn’t smell like sickness and blood, cough drops and menthol. He smells spicy and like the woods. I like it. With trembling fingers I’m finally able to release his hood which was snagged in the branch and he sits up quickly, nearly bumping his face into mine.

  I’m practically cross-eyed now that we’re so close and immediately I stumble backwards, nearly losing my grip on the branch. His hand reaches out to grab my sleeve.

  “Will you be careful?” he hisses. “The last thing I need is a dead body on my hands.”

  He stands up on the branch with perfect balance. Maybe it has something to do with him being so low to the surface. I watch him and then look down past the branch. Dammit, it’s higher than I remember. Why is it that things always seem easier to start than to finish?

  “Thanks for your help, Hadley,” he says, enunciating my name for effect.

  He makes it sound so ugly that I’m almost ashamed and I lower my head.

  “Hey, I’m kidding, you know. Seriously, thanks for the help. I coulda been out here all night if it wasn’t for you.” He straightens out his hoodie and starts to slide down the trunk as if it’s nothing more than a fireman’s pole.

  How the hell does he do that?

  Within moments the roles are switched and I’m the one who’s seemingly stranded in the tree and he’s now looking up at me.

  He tosses his head slightly to move some of the dark strands of hair away from his eyes. Usually I find it cliché and lame when guys do this, but I don’t mind it so much now. I can see his eyes better this way. He puts his hands on his hips.

  “Are you going to come down?” he asks. “Or are you planning on spending the night there?”

  “Uh...” I try to suppress feelings of vertigo as I look down. It’s not that high... it’s really not, but I’m starting to feel sick. “I think maybe I’ll stay up here for a while. Look at the stars... or something.”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

  He doesn’t believe me. Of course he doesn’t.

  “Jump. I’ll catch you.”

  I look down with wide eyes. Is he kidding? There’s no way he’s being serious! There’s no way I’m jumping down there! “You couldn’t catch me,” I call down. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “You’re the one being stupid,” Hunter says as the hint of a smirk plays at the corner of his full lips. “I’m short, but I’m not delicate. I can catch a falling lady in a pinch. Even you, if you actually decide to jump down.”

  “I don’t want to be caught,” I say, too annoyed to retort about him saying I’m not a real lady. I start to stand up and my hands are shaking violently. Why didn’t I think this through?

  “We’ll be here all night if you don’t jump,” Hunter says, holding out his arms. “Just trust me.”

  “I’m not putting my trust in a stranger.”

  “A stranger? Or a short stranger?”

  My cheeks grow hot again. “Either one.” I feel my sneakers slipping as I begin to climb back down the tree while those dark eyes watch me curiously. I feel like an animal on display. “Look, if you have somewhere to go—”

  “I have nowhere to be,” he says. “I’ll make sure you’re okay getting down. This would all go a lot quicker though if you would trust me.”

  “I don’t trust you.” The moment I say it, I can immediately tell that my throat is starting to protest. The familiar tingly feeling in my throat starts to rise. No. I can’t allow a fit to take me. I can’t cough right now. “Just go home!” I shout, raising my voice to a raspy scream. It’s a risk, but I don’t want him to see me like this. I look over my shoulder and notice that he hasn’t budged.

  “You’re being difficult,” he growls, lowering his hands. “Fine. You don’t want my help? Then have it your way and stay in the tree, Hadley. Thanks again...” he trails off as he starts to turn away.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  My throat erupts and I cling to the trunk of the tree with all my strength. After a minute of desperation, I’m able to take a few gasping breaths and glance down. I don’t see the stranger, and I have only moments until my next fit. I shimmy down to the next large branch and sit heavily on it. My chest suddenly feels as though it’s going to explode and I reach towards an overhead branch to steady myself. My fingers have just touched it when a cough bends me double and my hand closes on empty air. Coughing violently, I seem to slide backwards in slow motion.

  I’m falling.

  There’s a trail of blood floating in the air above me like its defying gravity.

  And then... there’s darkness. Softness.

  My name is Hadley and in case I haven’t mentioned it... death follows me everywhere.

  Want to Read More?

  Get your ecopy of A Death’s Awakening

  C.E. Wilson currently resides in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with husband, beautiful daughter, fat beagle and two cats. She loves The Twilight Zone, America’s Next Top Model, Classic Movies, and shoujo manga. She feels at peace when it rains and loves a cup of coffee with too much sugar and cream. She loves the fall because of football and all things pumpkin. She enjoys trying her hand at all things fantastical.

  Other titles by C.E. Wilson

  Somewhere In Between:

  Untitled Beauty

  Cruel and Unusual

  A Death’s Awakening

  Somewhere In-Between Season 1: Books 1-3

  This is Me. Universe:

  This is Me.

  This is Then.

  Standalone Novels:

  Matchsticks and Candy Canes (Co-written with Mary Dublin)

  The Boy with Words

  The Promise

  To Nowhere

  Coming soon:

  Playing Human (2017)

  Ordinary, Not So Ordinary (2017)

  Vicious, Ambitious – A Rainbow Noir Novel (2017)

  A White Wolf (2018)

  Smoke and Mirrors (Co-written with Mary Dublin) (2018)

  This is Now. (2018)

  So what’s next?

  It sucks to finish a book, doesn’t it?

  But while this story may be complete,

  there’s more great stuff out there.

  Start by grabbing something for free at:

  www.cewilsonauthor.com

  Click the link above and sign up for my mailing list,

  and grab an ecopy of The Promise for free as a thank you!

  THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING!

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  Also by C.E. Wilson

  Rainbow Noir

  Don't Write it Down (Coming Soon)

  Standalone

  The Promise

  This is Then.: A Collection of Clean Science Fiction Romance Short Stories

 

 

 


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