“Take me home, Travis.”
17
Krystanwasstill asleepwhen I parked outside the purple house.She’d passed out the momentafterI started the van.I opened the passenger side door, unbuckled herseatbeltand picked her up. Cradling her, I kicked the door shut behind me.In her sleep, her arms curled around my neck.
Even a couple months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to hold her like this. I was surprised by how light she was. I also suspected she’d been eating less to save money for the house.
I couldn’t think about what would happen to this placeright now. Finaglingthe keyinto the lock,Imanaged to not dropKrystanwhile unlocking the house. Openingthe door, I walkedinto a chillingly empty,dark hallwayand was glad her warm body was in my arms.She woke up when I was halfway up the stairs.
“I can walk,” she said as I got to the top. I set her down on her feet. Those big, haunted eyes stared at the closed door of her gran’s.
“We should get cleaned up,” I said, picking up her wrist. The blood had dried but it could still get infected. As if not recognizing me for a moment,Krystanran her cold fingers on either side of the cut on my throat. I swallowed hard under her soft touch, causing my throat to sting from the movement.
Wetook turns showering, thendisinfected and bandaged each other’s wounds.Krystanbrushed her teeth and gargled mouthwash a couple times. When it was time to go to bed, we hovered outside the bathroom.Since the kids were at the neighbor’s house,Istarted towardthe guestroom,which was on the opposite end of the hall fromKrystan’sroom.
Her hand around my wriststopping me.“Stay with me tonight?”
When I turned back to her, my breath caught in my throat.The look in her eye was desperate, broken, and pleading.Krystannever asked.Shedemanded, she took, she possessed whatever she wanted but here she was asking me, the fear I would say no, written plainly in her eyes.
With a nod, I followed her into her bedroom. She peeled off her clothes until she was down to hertank topand panties. Black silk with white skulls on them,completewith red bow at the top, of course.I took off my own clothes until I was down to my blue plaid boxers and crawled into bed after her. In an instant, she’dmolded her body to mine.
I clenched my jaw, desire, frustration, and grief snaking throughout me in different waves.Fortunately, my hips were angled away from her, so she had no idea how much holding her was killing me. But oh god I wanted this. Holding her was like holding a live flame, and even though she burned me, I was stupidly addicted to her warmth. Maybe she was right. Maybe she would destroy me. She’d certainly taken her shots, and they’d ripped right through me.
Afterlaying for what must have been ten minutes but felt like an hour,she was snoring.She turned over and I molded my body to her back. In her sleep, she reached over to hold onto my arm that I'd curled around her waist as if she needed me to keep it there.My arousal lessened as I reveled in the contact. I fought to stay awaketo enjoy the moment withKrystancurled into me. It wasn’t long before I fell into blissful dreamless sleep.
My eyes opened as the first rays ofdawn piercedthrough the window.Krystanwas drooling on my chest.Exhaustionand pain from yesterday’s battlesmade my body tight and sore,but my brain hadalreadyturned on like a machine and waschurning awayon thememories of last night. The concert,leaningKrystanwas pregnant,Mrs.Ritsbeing rolled out in a body bag,getting blasted by pure evil and thenKrystanconfessingher father beat her mom to death. Jesus. I should write all of what happened and send it into a soap opera.
“Coffee,” a troll-like voice warbled out.
“Want me to dunk you in a bucket of it?” I offered.
Krystan’slips curved into a smileagainst my chest. “That’ll do, pig.”
I couldn’t besure,but I wondered if thatwas herroundaboutway of calling me Babe.
Then, as if realizing she was laying on mefor the first time,Krystanquicklyrolledawayandsat up. Shethentumbled out of bed,tripping over her boots before standing.
Ipushed up onto my elbows andstared resolutelyatapile of clothes on the floor. Last night, whenKrystanhad stripped, it had been dark butnowin thelight,it was hard to notogleher long legs and the twin pointsof her nipplespoking out under her tank top.My body was still warm where she’d been pressed against me.In fact, it was just better if I stayed in bed, under the covers until certain parts of me calmed down.
“We need to goback.We need to figure out who that woman was and what tried to tearus apart and hunt it down.”Ice dripped in my stomach even as I said it. I didn’t want to go back. Part of me was still scared that the demon was still there, waiting to make me kiss my own throat with the machete again.
Krystanlooked out the window, her eyes were heavy with what I could only guess was dread.The pain in her eyes grew as if realitywas returningto her.Her gran was dead.I couldn’t imagine what she was feeling. Mrs.Ritsmay not have been her last livingrelative,but it sounded like the last living relativeKrystanwould care to know.
Her voice was still rough with sleep.“That thingfrom last nightisresponsible formygran,Jessica,and that whole family.”
I sighed. “Based off the news reports and that map with all the X’s crossed outon that map, it looks like it hit about fifteen times.”
“Why them?” Her words came out strangled.
I wanted to give her the answer, make her gran’s death make sense. “I don’t know.”
With a growl of frustration,Krystangrabbed a pair of pants off the floor. “How the hell are we supposed to fight thisthing?”
I sat upin her bed.It was almost safe to getout…untilKrystanbent over to pull her leather pants on. I decidedone moreminute under the sheets and some thoughtsdirected towardsportswas wise.“I don’t knowthat either,which is why we have to go back and look for clues.”
Krystanrolled her eyes but a smile tugged on her lips. “Whatever you say, Velma.”
Krystanstood with a full body stretch allowing me to appreciate her form. God she could have easily been a model if she weren’t prone to stabbing. Lord help the man who’d try to objectify her without her permission, orthemodel who thought they could get away with some snarky, passive aggressive remark.Krystanwould probably break their nose with a headbutt.
