Darker Days (The Darker Agency #1)(46)
Mom asked if I was all right and let it drop. She promised to pick it up tomorrow, though, because technically, I’d snuck out and she wasn’t thrilled. It probably hadn’t helped that I’d been covered in mud and wearing the forest floor as a fashion accessory when we walked through the door, either.
I didn’t know what I’d tell her. What I could tell her. With a mom like mine, the last thing you want to do is tattle on someone. His fault or not, she’d have Garrett hanging upside down over an unending pit of ravenous, flesh eating demons for trying to hurt her little girl. And with Dad there? I didn’t even want to think about the things he’d do.
I’d sat quietly and listened to Mom call Mrs. Redding at the hospital to tell her we got into the liquor cabinet. Since we were snockered, Mom told her she was going to keep Garrett here overnight and would bring him home in the morning.
In truth, an associate of Mom’s, a Voodoo priestess named McKenna, was coming over at first light to fling a whammy on Garrett. It would help speed things along. After McKenna did her mojo, Garrett would sleep for a day and wake up normal.
We hoped.
After everything was squared away, Mom and Dad slipped away to follow a lead they’d heard on the police scanner. A nightclub downtown had erupted into a scene from a porno gone wrong. They hoped to catch Lust. I was instructed to stay put, and I think I made Mom more suspicious when I didn’t bother arguing. They headed out and I promptly left Lukas curled up on the couch and retreated to shower.
When I got back to my room, I heaved my backpack onto the bed and pulled out the first thing my fingers touched. My history book. Flipping to a random page, I sucked in a deep breath and gripped the edge of the book like it might try to run away. The words danced in blurry waves, and everything grew hazy. The fiery unease I’d been trying so hard to tamp down since we’d left the woods ignited, and the tears spilled over. I’d been doing a great job ignoring what happened—what could have happened—but here in the dark, alone, it was a neon elephant dancing a jig with bells on in the middle in the room.
I don’t know how long I sat there—curled into a ball and crying like a baby—before he came in.
I didn’t look up as he crossed the room, or as the bed sagged under his weight. I didn’t pull away or stop crying when he slipped behind me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. Normally, I would’ve sucked it up. Even Mom didn’t get to see me bawling like a baby. But part of me wanted Lukas there. I wanted him to see that under my hard shell and weirdness—according to him—I was just a human girl.
Just a girl…
“You’re all right now,” he whispered. His voice sent soothing ripples over my skin and chased away the numbness. A tiny voice in the back of my mind raged at me over the reaction, but for once, I ignored it.
We sat there, silent except for my occasional sniffle. The moon peeked through the window on the other side of the room, casting our shadows across the wall behind the bed.
After a while, the silence got too heavy. Plus, there was something I’d been wanting to ask him. “How did you find me in the woods? How did you know?”
“I saw you leave. Out the window. I followed.”
Wow. Way to be stealthy. I seriously needed to work on that. “Why?”
He didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice came barely above a whisper. “I’m not sure. I suppose I was worried. About you.”
A few more minutes passed. All I could hear was the soft sound of Lukas’ heart beating in my ear. With the window open, the cool night breeze blew through the room, chilling the air. His arms, wrapped tight around me, were almost electrifying in contrast. I snuggled closer and breathed in deep. He still smelled like the forest—which should have bothered me after what happened—but there was something else. Something comforting. Something all Lukas.
“Tell me something.” I felt comfortable—safe—and somehow that felt wrong. Too intimate. It went well beyond liking his voice and taking comfort in his presence, and that scared me. “About you. Tell me something no one else knew. A secret.”
“Painting,” he answered almost instantly.
I shifted around so I could see him. With his head tilted down, his bangs had fallen across his eyes so that the only part of his face I could see was from the nose down. He was smiling. Not a passing grin or a two-second smirk, but a genuine smile.
It was amazing. It lit up the dark and made the butterflies in my stomach dance in crazy circles.
“Painting?”
“It’s all I ever wanted to do. Paint.”
“That’s a secret?”
He nodded, smile fading. “It was. I never told anyone.”
“Why would you keep that a secret?”
“Where I’m from, a man is expected to follow his father—not pursue unrealistic dreams.”
“What did you paint?”
“Anything. People were my passion, though.”
“Why people?”
“Because there’s so much to see. When you paint someone, you have to look at them. Really look at them. You can see it all—everything they keep hidden. It’s all in the eyes. Truly a window to the soul.” He sighed. “It was my peace. My calm. It kept me grounded when all else was in upheaval.”
“It sounds nice.”