Midnight Secrets

by Rita Stradling

Because I could tell that she was being serious and wouldn’t leave until I agreed, I nodded and assured her, “I will sit, and I will read as much as my brain will take. I also plan on making you a lunch that I’ll bring up to the house at noon. And then I will make dinner for us.”

  The word dinner sent a new pulse of pain into my teeth just as a thumping sound grew in volume nearby. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

  Damnit. That was my grandmother’s heartbeat.

  I’d called the BNP yesterday, but they’d said they were understaffed, and someone would start the clearance process for volunteers next week. Things were going fine, and then, out of the blue, everything was going downhill fast. After this morning, I was thinking of just going to the local hospital during visiting hours and searching for extra blood bags.

  “Honey?”

  I looked up, startled out of my thoughts. “What?”

  “Did you hear me?” Thump, thump. “I was thinking we should go out for dinner tomorrow as a treat.” Thump, Thump.

  “Sure — yeah. You’re going to be late.”

  “All right. All right.” Thump, thump. “Be careful around that pool edge.” With that, Nana finally headed up to the house.

  When she was far enough away that I could no longer hear the sound of her heartbeat, I focused back on my task. I needed to clean up this mess and figure out some way to get blood. I’d been stupid. I thought I’d have more time, but clearly not.

  I just finished fishing out 16 red cups, hundreds of cigarette butts, and somebody’s bathing suit bottoms from the pool when a figure emerged from the house. I shaded my eyes against the sunshine to see black hair, a bare, muscular chest, and a handsome, chiseled face practically glowing in the early morning light. Releasing a breath I didn’t even know I was holding, I forced my attention back to the pool and noticed a bee struggling in the water. Taking the net and pole that I’d been using to fish trash, I scooped under the bug’s little flailing body, but he kept swimming just beyond my reach. When I finally managed to get him, I lifted him up and delivered him to safety on the side of the pool.

  “He’s just going to sting you now,” Justin whispered from beside me.

  I didn’t look over even though I could feel his warmth against my arm. “Perhaps he’ll sting you instead. Maybe that was my evil plot all along.”

  There was a sudden movement to my left, and then a hand pushed my back. It wasn’t a hard push, but it took me by such surprise, my feet toppled over the edge of the pool, I was weightless for one moment, and then I tumbled in. Cold water smacked me in the face, and I gasped in liquid, sinking. I tried to scrabble for purchase under me, but it was deeper than I expected. Struggling against the water around me, I pushed to the surface and gulped in air, but immediately went under again. My lungs burned, and I couldn’t seem to get my legs to obey my thoughts.

  Strong hands wrapped around my waist, and I grabbed wildly at the body holding me. I surfaced, gasping and looking into Justin’s face as he held me up out of the water. Desperately, I grabbed onto his shoulders.

  “What’s wrong with you? Are you drowning?” He asked. His expression looked both confused and angry for some reason like this was my fault somehow. His heartbeat thumped, fast and loud to my ears. He hugged me under my armpits, holding me up and against his bare chest.

  “What’s wrong with me? You almost just killed me!” Seeing that the edge of the pool wasn’t far away, I used Justin’s shoulders and pushed myself toward the cement. Grabbing onto the ledge, I took a moment to breathe.

  Justin swam up beside me, again invading my space. Water dripped down his all-too-handsome features as he leaned in. “Why don’t you know how to swim?”

  “Don’t bother asking me if I’m okay — really — I’m doing great, just peachy,” I breathed, though what I was saying to the jerk in my head was: screw you and the horse you rode in on.

  From his unamused expression, he knew what I was saying. “Damn it, January, I was just playing around with you. How was I supposed to know you don’t know how to swim?”

  “Not everyone grows up with a pool in their yard. Almost half of Americans can’t swim. Meaning, when you pushed me into the deep end of your pool, you had almost a fifty percent chance of me drowning.”

  He worked his jaw back and forth but didn’t say anything. No apology. Nothing. Justin simply stared up at me, his golden eyes watchful. “If you can’t swim, you might want to avoid hanging out right next to the pool in your bathing suit.”

  The jerk. Like it was my fault he pushed me in.

  I did my best to shoot fire out of my eyes. “This isn’t a bathing suit. It’s shorts. And, I wasn’t hanging out here …” I gestured out to the sides of the pool where everything was picked up and scrubbed clean, “I was cleaning up the huge ass mess you left for my grandmother on her first day of work.”

  He surveyed the space. “Yeah.”

  Realizing that I’d probably be old and gray before getting an apology, I pushed up on the cement ledge, when Justin grabbed my wrist.

  “January, come back down here — now.”

  Surprised at the urgency in his tone, I glanced down at him and found him staring at my teeth. And then I noticed. Sometime between my panic and anger, my fangs descended.

  “Okay, this game shit is over. Come on.” Without saying a word more, Justin grabbed my waist and scooped me onto the cement ledge around the pool. He pushed up, hopped out, and gestured to stand. After he threw an arm around my shoulders, we hurried into the pool house, closing the door firmly behind us and locking it.

  When he grabbed my hand, I just went with him. My stomach was roiling with a million emotions, but chief among them was shame. Justin had been an asshole to me since I arrived at his house, but he was also right. I’d pushed this hunger to the point where I was endangering people.

  There was a hiss of water turning on, and I looked up just in time to see Justin fiddling with an open, wooden shower stall. Steam rose, clouding the window walls all around us.

  “Come here,” he said, nodding toward the shower.

  I only hesitated a second before following him in. Stepping onto the wood-slat floor, I met his intent gaze. “Do you want me to drink from your wrist . . . or neck?”

  “Neck.” Justin reached down, grabbing me under my legs and hoisting me up onto his body. My running shorts and sports tank top smashed against his chest, cold from the pool. Water dripped over our bodies as I molded around him, my legs and arms squeezing.

  He arched his neck, and I bit down. His blood welled in my mouth, and I gulped greedily, squeezing him tighter against me. Justin answered by gripping my legs and tugging me into him.

  The holes in his neck closed, and he only had to whisper the word, “again,” and then my fangs were puncturing his veins once more.

  He sucked in sharply as if maybe I hurt him, but instead of pushing me away, Justin pulled me even closer.

  When the holes closed, I came up slowly to find him watching me. We both breathed hard, his lips inches from mine.

  “January,” he whispered, “Can we agree that you can quit me only after you have a steady supply of blood bags lined up but not before? It’s just plain stupid to do it the other way around.”

  I closed my eyes as the familiar warm tingling feeling of having Justin’s blood inside me pulsed through my body. “You could just help me get the blood bags. You know? Solve all our problems.”

  He turned us around so my back was against the wood slats. “Nope. I’m not going to prevent you from quitting me, but I’m not going to help you do it either.”

  “Quitting you? You make yourself sound like a bad habit. This is like the definition of codependency. You’re here because you’re afraid that I’m going to jump into a murder-spree, and I’m here because I need blood.”

  He gave me a look. “Is that really why we’re here, January? You could have applied to volunteer at that BNP at any time, and I would have supplied blood until you figured out a substitute, ju
st like I’m offering to do now. And I could have supplied the blood bags. But I already told you that I’m not going to do that.”

  My stupid butterflies were dancing a jig inside me. Honestly, if he’d acted this way even once this past year, there was no way in hell I’d have wanted to quit him — ever. I was going to tell him that when he spoke.

  “My friends are going to show up here any minute, and I don’t want them to see you here. It’s bad enough that Corey saw you, but it can’t happen again.”

  “Damn it.” I slid off Justin. “Should I apologize to your friends for existing? You really are an asshole.”

  “Hey,” he reached for me. When I dodged away, Justin crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re purposely misunderstanding what I’m trying to say to you, and it’s fucking annoying.”

  “Oh, no. I get what you’re trying to say to me, and do you know what your friend Corey did? He asked if he could show me around town. Fancy that, spineless Corey wants to be seen in public with me.”

  A muscle ticked in Justin’s jaw. “Yeah, I’ll bet he does. I hope you said no.” He lifted his dark brows, waiting for my response. “You’re really going to go out with a guy who doesn’t know about your condition?”

  I blinked slowly at him. “Justin, you told me that I shouldn’t tell anyone but you what I am. You made me promise. Do you really think I’m going to spend the rest of my life as a nun?”

  Reaching up, he ran his fingers through his hair and gripped two handfuls. “Not my friends, okay. Just — keep your distance from them. I’m going to do my best to get them to stop showing up whenever they damn feel like it, but if I’m too forceful about it, it might cause more problems. I need to figure out the right time and place for us to meet so you can drink. We can’t do it like this again . . .” He gestured to the glass walls, “Too public.”

  “I’m not going to attack your friends, okay?” I gestured between us. “Am I really giving off this impression as this uncontrollable blood fiend. Yes, I know I screwed up today, but I didn’t lose control.”

  He dropped his hands and blew out a breath. “January, you really are the most aggravating person I’ve ever met.”

  “Yeah, you know, fuck this.”

  I needed to leave before my urge to smack him upside the head with a pool stick became too strong to resist. Throwing open the glass door, I gave the poolside a wide birth and walked around toward the trash cans. I made a promise to my nana, and I would get all of this cleaning over with so I could shower off and dive so deeply into a book that I forgot Justin Roberts existed.

  “I figured out what your problem is,” Justin called out from the doorframe of the pool house.

  “Congratulations. Do you want a cookie?” Grabbing the edge of the trashcan, I dragged it over the tile. The plastic tub didn’t want to go anywhere, and it stunk to high heavens of old beer and other fouler things.

  “You’re smart . . .” He shrugged, “But you take everything at face value. That’s why you’re friends with that blond idiot Charlotte whose mother used your grandmother’s predicament in a desperate attempt to get closer to Gina.”

  His words might as well have been knives that cut straight through my heart. After the way that Charlotte treated me yesterday, it was clear the situation here wasn’t what I hoped, but I still genuinely believed that Mrs. Russell got my grandmother the job to help us. I found myself saying, “Charlotte isn’t an idiot.”

  “My mistake.” Justin leaned against the doorframe, watching me intently. “How did you guys get associated with such trashy social climbers, anyhow? You’re not the type.”

  My eyes grew hot, and it was possible that a few tears could leak out if I wasn’t careful. I’d been keeping my cool for twenty-four hours, through my supposed best friend snubbing me, Justin dumping beer on my head, not sleeping, cleaning up after a high school party I wasn’t invited to, getting pushed in the pool and almost drowning, and losing my battle with the blood lust. But the idea that Mrs. Russell only used my grandmother in some sort of social climbing move threatened to make the tears fall.

  Grabbing the trashcan with both hands, I put my back and legs into it and dragged it toward the side of the house.

  After I gathered the thick black plastic liner and took it out to the house’s main dumpster, I trudged back to the garage that stood behind two sprawling oak trees. Tired and filthy, I entered the garage unit through the side door and headed up the smooth hardwood stairs to the second floor. The moment I opened the door, I heard the last chimes of Charlotte’s custom ringtone. I froze in the doorway, my stomach dropping.

  The phone silenced, and I sighed, glad that fate decided for me. Walking into the kitchen area that took up one side of the apartment, I started to scrub my hands just as the phone rang out again. The ringtone was a song we used to sing together, “Baby, Your Blues,” by The Champions. The tones were quick and upbeat, but with every note, my smile drained away.

  I answered the phone just before the song was about to conclude.

  “January!” Char squealed.

  “Whoa,” I said, holding the receiver away from my ear.

  “You’re here! I can’t believe I missed your texts and calls. I actually forgot my phone at home, and it was out of batteries, and then it was too late to call last night. You didn’t answer all morning!” She said all of this in one breath, and then continued with, “I’m coming over to see you right now.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to think of how the hell I should respond to her. I was hurt, and hearing her bald-faced lie to my face about her phone twisted the knife. Justin’s accusation that Char’s mother used my grandmother to have a connection to the Roberts family had just gotten into my head, compounding the negative feelings that were already brewing.

  “Are you there?” she asked, laughing through the words. “Or did I just say all of that to myself?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, there was a party going on here last night, and I didn’t sleep much. I was thinking of taking a nap. Do you maybe want to meet out somewhere later? My grandmother and I were going to go check out the area. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “I am literally driving there right now. I want to see you so much. I don’t want to wait until later tonight. Give me like five minutes, and I’ll be there.”

  “Char, I’m sorry, but I need at least an hour, okay? I just got pushed in a pool —”

  She gasped. “But you don’t know how to swim.”

  “Yep. Exactly. I need a shower and a few minutes to settle my nerves.”

  “I’m coming right now,” she insisted.

  Flaring my nostrils and clenching my jaw, I tried to think of a way to tell her to screw off, nicely. But before I could think of anything, I heard the crunch of tires from outside.

  “I’m actually pulling up right now and parking in front of your little house. See you in five!” The line went dead.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Growing up, I always thought that Char oozed fun. Seeing her face meant that no matter how horrible my day, no matter how few hours of sleep I got, no matter how many drunk strangers were lying around my mother’s side of the house in the morning, my day was salvageable. Char and I could laugh about absolutely anything or nothing at all. She was like a star peeking out through a smoggy sky. While she wasn’t the only star peeking out, she brought something special to my smog-filled existence.

  Today, seeing her framed in the doorway of my new apartment, I only felt a slight echo of that happiness. Her white-blond hair fell lazily about her freckled, heart-shaped face, stylishly messy. Red bikini straps peeked out of her yellow dress, tying around her neck. Obviously, one of us learned how to swim.

  The moment the door was fully open, she dove on me, wrapping her arms around my neck and laughing. I had to step back, bracing against the force of her body weight falling entirely on me. Her familiar scent of shea butter and coconut oil enveloped me, but there was a different, stronger scent mingling with the two, some e
xpensive floral perfume.

  “Holy heck! I can’t believe you’re here! And your hair is all wet, and it stinks like chlorine!” She ran her fingers through my wet curls as she pulled back to look at me with her big blue eyes. “You need to tell me everything that happened. Who pushed you in the pool?”

  “That would be Justin Roberts.”

  “Shut the front door. You aren’t serious? Like, Justin pushed you in the pool, and you almost drowned?”

  “Yep. I had just saved a bee from drowning, and Justin shoved me from behind. Obviously, karma works in reverse for me. Want to come in?” I asked, walking into the unit.

  The two-bedroom upstairs apartment came fully furnished, and we’d had plenty of wakeful hours to unpack our boxes last night. But the house still felt plain and without personality, like a hotel room. It was in dire need of a sci-fi mural.

  I gestured out to the tan and white striped couch. “You hungry or something? You’re welcome to go chill, and I can grab something for you.”

  “Wait . . .” Char grabbed my wrist and tugged. “Can you please explain to me what happened, like every single minuscule detail?”

  “Sure. He’s a jerk. I told him that I saved a bee, hoping it would sting him. He thought he was funny and almost accidentally killed me for it.”

  Her mouth sagged open. “How did you get out?”

  “Justin jumped in and — well, I guess he pulled me out.”

  “Oh. My. Goodness. Justin Roberts saved my best friend’s life. He saved your life.” Her lip trembled, and she looked over her shoulder at the door. “You could have died.”

  “Yeah, because he pushed me in. I see only one good guy in this situation, and that’s me — for saving the bee.”

  “I should thank him. Do you think he’s still at the pool?” She looked back toward the door.

  I stared at her profile, wondering what the actual heck I’d been thinking all these years. Had I just been deluding myself or had she actually morphed into a new person, a social mountaineer. Holding up my hands, I found myself telling her, “He’s probably still there. And I really need a shower and a nap anyway. Go talk to him.”