by Stacy Lee
****
He left me.
Alone.
With a man.
I don’t know.
My age old coping mechanism kicks in and my face blanks over. I hated ‘going blank’ as the kids at school called it, but it was preferable to a nervous breakdown or showing anyone how weak I was. It takes me to a dark place in my head, a time where running and/or hiding was the only method of survival. Nonetheless it didn’t matter how I felt as long as I stayed strong. I busy myself with my ingredients. Checking and double checking the measurements. Then checking once more to be sure. With Fin watching my every move I don’t want to mess up. He’s a chef. I’m not.
“Where did you learn this recipe?” He asks in a friendly voice.
“It was in my mother’s cook book.” I state in a flat unemotional tone.
“Where is the book now?” He was only making conversation. He didn’t know the agony I went through when Uncle destroyed it. It was all I had left of her at the time. I found her necklace later, years after she hid it, when I moved from the farm.
“Uncle threw it in the fire to punish me.” Two eggs, slightly beaten. Don’t react to his flinch.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Was it one you could duplicate? Like Betty Crocker or something?” My handwriting isn’t like hers I could never duplicate it. Two eggs, slightly beaten, I have it right, now dump it in.
“It was handwritten.” Oil, I need oil now. I turn to the cabinet over the stove and stretch on tip toes to grab the bottle. I gasp as a presence leans in behind me and grabs the bottle, sitting it on the counter. He was very careful not to touch me. Before I can wrap my hand around the bottle he is gone.
Breathe, Marnie.
“Have you ever thought of writing them down in your own book?” His tone hasn’t changed from the jovialness it has had since he entered the house. He was trying very hard to make me comfortable. I feel guilty for my short answers and inflections and try to get out the next answer with some kind of feeling. I measure the oil carefully.
“If it isn’t written down it can’t be destroyed. I have them all in my head. Safer that way.” Longer, better, but still flat. Come on Marnie, you can do this.
“Good point but who would destroy it now?” Dare. I don’t say it but it is the first thing that pops in my head. I don’t believe he would but you never know. Men were temperamental that way. I check the oil’s measurement.
“Possessions are easily taken away for punishment and other reasons. It doesn’t matter who, but when.” Besides, since that first initial conversation he hasn’t offered to get my things again. Cocoa, I need Cocoa. I hesitate with my hand over the lid.
“It’s okay, you can use all you want. I have three more at home.” I glance up and see his grin. His grey eyes are welcoming and his smile friendly. His white blonde hair is pinned back away from his youthful face in a low ponytail. The casual t-shirt and blue jeans are snug but a good fit for him. It’s the first time I have looked at him since Dare introduced us.
“Why do you have four containers of cocoa? Are they different flavors or brands?” I’m very proud of myself for the confusion and curiosity I could hear in my own voice. I was getting better. If he gives me a little longer I can do this. He chuckles. I measure the cocoa.
“Nope. All the same as that one. I like to experiment when I’m stressed. Especially with chocolate. Angie loves when I’m stressed.” He laughs out. A small smile cracks my lips.
“I like Angie.” I check the cocoa measurement.
“Me to. She is fun and flamboyant and speaks what’s on her mind. There isn’t any guessing with Angie.” But there was with me. He didn’t mean it that way but that’s where my brain went. He seems to think about what he said and then adds quickly. “There isn’t anything wrong with mystery either. Everybody is different and some just need a little more time to warm up to things than others.” Satisfied I had everything required, I stir the mixture together and picture Cash with brownie mix on his face. My stomach settles a little more but the clawing ache remains. I would have brownies for Cash. I could do this.
“Angie told me you fix mechanical things. A grease monkey, she said.” His grin widens.
“I am. I also love to cook. What do you like to do, Marnie?” I’m startled into enough surprise I stop stirring. I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that. His brow furrows as he watches me, his expresion losing a little bit of his joy. “You look shocked I ask you that. Why does that surprise you?” How do I answer him? If I admit no one had asked me that question before it would prove how pitiful I was. Honesty, Marnie. Always be honest.
“I’ve never been asked.” It’s his turn to look shocked.
“Hasn’t Dare asked you that?” I think back over our few conversations. No, he hasn’t.
“We haven’t really had time to talk much. I’m sure he will soon.” I state firmly and sit the bowl down.
I want to say Dare hadn’t asked me much of anything except to surrender to him. Then again I hadn’t asked him much either. I was too scared at first and now I was simply too enthralled with him. That man made me feel and want things I have never felt or wanted before. His touch was electric, his kiss soothing, his bite calming and his love making blew my mind completely. And his blood….his blood was mouthwatering and addictive. My stomach grumbles in need.
Scrapping the spoon on the side I dip my finger in the batter left in the indention then lick it. It tastes right, sort of. I don’t think I forgot anything. I search the ingredients on the counter to make sure. The bag of chocolate chips still sits half full. I grab it and dump them in then stir quickly and taste again, still not quite right but nothings missing. Maybe my taste buds were off from crying. This time I notice Fin watches me and I offer him the spoon. He takes a finger full and tastes.
“Delicious. I will definitely need that recipe if you will share it.” He grins at me and this time I can’t help but return it. He has chocolate on his lip.
“I can write it down for you.” I turn quickly and grab the already floured pan and scrape the batter into it.
“So, you never answered me. What do you like to do to relax?” I shove the brownies in the oven and set the timer.
“Photography.” I whisper almost inaudibly. I ease down on the floor in front of the stove to watch the brownies cook. I couldn’t burn them again.
“Hey, come sit over here.” He stands to pick up one of the stools and places it on the other side of the counter letting the bar separate us. There was plenty of room, he couldn’t touch me without having to stand.
“I need to make sure I don’t burn them.” I couldn’t burn them again.
“You’ve set the timer. I won’t let you burn them. Come, sit down.” It wasn’t a request but it was spoken like one. Reluctantly, I rise and take the seat. “Photography, huh? What kind of camera do you have?” I tuck my head in embarrassment.
“It’s just an old 35 mm Cannon. I haven’t been able to upgrade to digital yet. But that’s alright, it takes beautiful pictures.” It did to. For the twenty year old camera it worked excellent and I loved it.
“Isn’t it expensive to develop the film these days?” I shake my head. Not how I do it.
“I do it myself. I have a two bedroom house. I use one room as a darkroom. It’s fun. I buy the chemicals in bulk, it’s cheaper.” I shrug looking back to the stove. Nausea rolls in my stomach but I push it away. I will do this.
“Really? How did you learn how to do that? Did you take a course in college?” I think this is the most I have ever talked about myself. However, his questions were loosening me up and I was feeling much more comfortable.
“No, I didn’t go to college. After Uncle died I had to get a job while I finished high school to pay the bills and rent on the apartment I leased. Then I got a full time job on top of my part time job on top of my nighttime job and rented a little house after graduation. I couldn’t work eighty hours a week to afford my home and still go to full time college. I
chose the house and taught myself with books.” It had been a hard decision to make but in the end I believe it was the right one.
“Wow. You must be really smart then.” He grins, I frown.
“No. It doesn’t take smarts to read or mix chemicals. Only patience.” He snorts.
“You’d be surprised at the amount of people who can’t learn a damn thing from a book.” I shrug and look back to the stove. I wasn’t one of those people but I knew the type. ‘Hands on children’ is what the teachers always called them. They weren’t any different than other kids, they just took a little more effort to teach. It took a talented and devoted teacher to keep up with them. I had thought about teaching however, it wasn’t in the cards for me.
“Where did you learn to cook?” I was genuinely curious if the supernatural races went to human schools. A Vampire who lived on blood would make a funny site standing in a classroom made up like a kitchen. I could hear him in my head ask the student next to him ‘Can you taste this to make sure it’s right, then maybe I can taste you afterwards…’ Maybe culinary school for a Vamp wasn’t such a good idea.
“I have studied many places with different chefs and I went to the human’s culinary school several years ago.” He laughs. “Actually, I have been to three of them. The first one was seventy-five years ago, then fifty, then twenty-five and I’m planning on going again soon. Things change so much with time that I like to keep up with current methods. I try to go every twenty-five years or so.” Seriously? He had the time and money to go to three different schools? Well I guess at almost four hundred he did.
“Wow, three colleges? That must have been amazing. I always dreamed of going to college but knew Uncle would never pay for it. I received three full scholarships in high school but I couldn’t work and go full time like they stipulated. But I sure tried to figure a way. I waited till the last day to turn them down. It was heartbreaking but life goes on. I probably wouldn’t have made it very far anyway.” He frowns, an indention cutting across his forehead.
“Why do you do that?” His head tilts as he studies me seriously.
“Do what?” I cock my head mirroring and study him. I didn’t do anything.
“You just said you received three full time scholarships, so obviously you did well in school, but then said you wouldn’t go far. Why do you put yourself down like that, Marnie?” Did I? I hadn’t noticed.
“Old habit, I guess. When you hear it enough you begin to believe it.” He shakes his head sadly.
“Can I ask where you placed in your graduating class?” What does that matter? I wasn’t good enough then and I still wasn’t.
“Eleventh. I wasn’t smart enough for the top ten.” Oh, I see what he means. I do do that a lot.
“Out of how many students?” I look to the stove nervously. They should be done soon. I answer absentmindedly.
“Six hundred and thirty five.” He coughs, hard. My head spins back to him, eyes wide.
“And you were number eleven?” I nod. “I’d say that was pretty damn smart.” I try not to be negative this time.
“Maybe.” Positives not so easy.
“So, is my brother treating you well?” It was a diversion tactic for him to change the mood, it works. I smile big and for the first time I feel myself relax.
“Oh, yes.” It was the first answer that truly showed emotion. He had been surprisingly gentle earlier while I had my breakdown. Holding me to him, letting me cry and not saying a negative word one. I was shocked at how comfortable I was in his arms, I even let my hands touch him, hold him, without remembering Uncles words.
‘You worthless bitch, you’ll never be good for anything! No man will ever want your clumsy hands on him, you can’t even wash a dish without breaking it!’
One day I would get over my fears of all men, but for now not being scared of Dare was a step up that made me proud of myself.
“Do you have plans for later today?” My head bobs happily.
“Dare said he was going to take me shopping for clothes. I can’t wait. I don’t even know where we are but I know it’s a beach. I have never seen a beach. I hope we can drive by the surf if it isn’t too much trouble for him. No one has clothes to fit me here, except this dress I think he stole from a little kid.” I giggle, I had seen the size, it wasn’t an adult size. “It fits better than what Angie brought me so I won’t complain but it makes a grown woman feel weird to wear kids clothes.” He laughs.
“I bet. You are a tiny thing though. Do they make adult clothes that small?” I scoff at him. My tension completely resides leaving behind a need to return his playfulness.
“Of course they do! I am not that little! Well, maybe to you giants I am but in the human world I am right at average. So take that, you big bully.” I grin. He grabs his chest like I hit him.
“Oh, you got me. Help, the midget hurt me!” He hollers out mockingly.
“I am not a midget!” I cry as I laugh hysterically at him stumbling off his stool and falling to the ground. He flops around a bit like a dying fish then lays still. “Oh come on, Fin! You’re killing me.” I pant out as I laugh. His head pops up and he grins at me. I forget all about my fear. His eyes flit to the hall then back to me. Before I can turn thick, strong arms wrap around my waist. The scent of wood, male and cinnamon assault me. Dare. He finally came back. “Your brother called me a midget!” I cry in fake outrage!
“You are a midget.” He states confidently while nuzzling my neck with his nose.
“Dare! I am not. I was trying to tell him I am an average human being. It is you people who are giants!” I giggle with my pout ruining the effect I was upset.
“Who are giants?” A voice comes from behind us at the same time the timer goes off on the brownies. I stiffen and try to see which brother it is. Dare keeps me immobile. His head falls forward, his teeth sinking deep into my neck. In a haze I feel one of his arms leave from around my waist but have no idea where it went and I really don’t care as I relax back into him, a low moan escaping my tight hold. I bite my lip to keep the next one in. I would be embarrassed later. Right now I had Dare to worry about.
I could feel his erection behind me and knew by the time we made it to the bedroom we would both be desperate. Every time he did this my need for him grew. And not just in a sexual way. I craved this man in so many different ways it wasn’t funny. I wanted his body, his smiles, his frowns, his touch and heaven forbid, I even wanted his blood. I just wanted him. I wanted to please him in every way I possibly could. What is more, every time he did this, I wanted nothing other than to obey his every whim. Completely and totally.
After only a few short pulls, enough to relax me deeply into a dazed state, he retracts his fangs and whispers in my ear, “Get the brownies, Parvulum.” I needed to remember to ask him what that meant. He spins me towards the oven away from the voice. I obey his command without question and pull the brownies from the oven then turn to see who just arrived.
Cash.
Hard eyes, tight features, spiky hair, hands clinched at his side and posture rigid. Yep, the same Cash I remember.
Scary as hell.
In my relaxed almost drugged state I giggle and hold up the pan in my hand. “I made brownies.” I whisper. Dare reaches over, takes them from me and places them on the stove.
“They need to cool. Cash this is Marnie.” I swallow hard.
“Uniformed angel with chocolate on his face and a bowl of brownie mix.” I mutter low under my breath. His eyebrow shoots up but I pay it no attention as I build the courage to speak. “Hello Cash.” I believe it came out. My lips moved but I don’t know if the words were there.
“Hello, Marnie. I love brownies. Especially hot brownies. May I?” He motions to the pan his face never changing.
“Let me cut them for you.” I grab a knife from the drawer and slice them quickly. Muttering can be heard behind me but it was too low to hear. Grabbing a paper towel I place a brownie on it and turn to hand it to him. He is relaxed, his eye so
fter but not soft, a large grin on his face nothing like the hard look of moments ago. He was almost approachable. Almost.
What changed?
Chapter Ten
I stand in the hall listening to her laugh with Fin. I hear Cash’s voice in the hall outside the door announce his arrival just as I asked him to do when I phoned him. I figured it would be easier for her if she met Cash one on one before the entire bunch showed up. I stroll into the kitchen my only goal to calm her down. When Cash steps in the room and speaks I can feel her panic rising and an inner voice screams at me that I have to protect her, keep her safe. She was mine. When her body stiffens with his voice I don’t think, I react, sinking my teeth into her skin.
“What the hell?” I hear Cash’s explicative under his breath but am pretty sure it was aimed at me and not loud enough for Marnie to hear. I lift my hand from her waist and motion for him to wait. He growls low in his throat but stands patiently behind me. My eyes are locked on Fin’s the entire time, his grow ever wider as she relaxes in my arms. When I pull from her he nods to me with a small smile. He knew exactly what I was doing. Glad someone did, because there was no way I would be able to do that three more times without taking her to the bedroom for at least twenty minutes.
Who am I kidding, more like twenty hours.
“Get the brownies, Parvulum.” I spin her purposely away from Cash towards the stove. Whipping my head to his I whisper urgently. “I’ll explain in a minute.” He nods stiffly. She turns to face him with the still hot pan in her hand with only a thin dishrag between her and the glass. Then she surprises me and prompts me to look closer at her all at the same time.
She giggles.
“I made brownies.” Her pupils are dilated and her eyes foggy as if she is drugged. What the hell? It only served to relax her earlier. Maybe I took too much with having taken from her twice already. I reach over and steal the brownies before they burn her.