Blitz (Emerald City/Black Family Saga Book 1) (13 page)

I push my leg forward slowly and try to mentally picture where he is on the bed in proximity to me. I don’t want to touch the wrong part, or kick out too quickly and wake him. That wouldn’t be humiliating at all.
 

I can practically feel the heat radiating from his body as I draw closer and as my toe grazes his leg, I bite my lip. Nope. This isn’t enough. Not even close. I want more.

“Your feet are cold.”

Oh, God. I pull my leg back quickly and bury my face in my pillow. Too late to pretend I was sleeping now. Smooth move, Syd.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“It’s alright. I’m sure you’re used to having this bed to yourself.”

Ouch.

“I mean…I didn’t mean…” He clears his throat. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

“Even after all that vodka?”

I laugh. “With me, there’s a small window and if I don’t jump through it, I’m up all night. Especially if I’m drinking and thinking.”

“What did you just say?”

“Drinking and—”

“Thinking,” he cuts in. “Holy crap, Syd. What are you like my soul mate or something?”

I bite my lip. He just called me Syd. Now I want to throw my arms around him. I’m acting like a total girl. It’s getting completely out of control.

“So, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” I say it way too quickly, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

The bed shifts and before I can protest, not that I’d know what to say if I did, we are face to face—Ray lying on his side directly across from me.

“I lied earlier. My parents didn’t die in a car crash.”

“What?”

“Sometimes I just say that. Because it’s easier than the alternative.”

“What’s the alternative?” I sit up, the urge to smack him so strong I have jam my hands between my knees. Who lies about something like the death of a parent? This guy’s a real piece of work. And here I was fantasizing about his stupid lips on mine.

Ray bolts up next to me. He must get the sense I’m about to rip into him because he shakes his head so hard his hair flutters into his eyes. “They really are gone. I didn’t make that up. I’d never make that up. It’s just more complicated than that.”

“How?”
 

“My mom died of food poisoning.” He scoffs. “Who dies of food poisoning?” He shakes his head again, running his fingers through that beautiful dark hair. “And my dad, I don’t know. We never really talked about it. I just knew he was gone. There was a motorbike accident. I know he spent some time in jail. Whenever I’d go into the city, I’d hear the rumors but I never stuck around long enough for anyone to elaborate. People would always point and stare—they all knew me, but I didn’t know them. I didn’t want to.”

“Your family never told you what happened?”

“I never asked. At least not once I was old enough to remember. My parents are a sensitive subject. So I just don’t bother to get into it. Plus, I figure it’s better to count your blessings than drudge up the past.”

“But you deserve to know. I mean, how are you supposed to move on if you don’t know anything about them.”

“It’s okay, Syd. I don’t need to know. It’s better that way.” He reaches over the edge of the bed to pick something up and flips on the floor lamp. He’s holding his wallet, fingering through it until he pulls out a small square paper. He hands it to me with a smile. “This is all I need to fuel my curiosity. It’s always been good enough.”

The man and woman in the old crinkled photo look almost as perfect as he does. But he’s clearly the much better model. She’s wearing a white dress and he a black t-shirt with a blazer on top. He’s kissing her cheek and both of them are staring straight at the camera.
 

The girl is stunning and I suddenly don’t feel as stupid as I did about thinking his aunt was his birth mother. Despite the bright smile on her perfect face that starkly contrasts the scowls her sister’s been throwing my way, they might as well be twins. She’s got the dark hair, those sapphire blue eyes and a pair of lips and a nose that likely make other women seriously consider plastic surgery. And the guy? Holy shit in a frying pan. Except for the bright blue eyes he clearly got from his mother, Ray looks just like him. Too hot to touch.

“They’re so young,” I say, stroking my finger over the photo.

“It was taken over twenty years ago. They were both our age. I was a baby. They’d just gotten married. It’s the only photo of the two of them I could find. I honestly don’t think there are anymore. They weren’t married for long before…”

I hand him the picture back and he carefully tucks it back in his wallet.

“If you were a baby, then your sister…”

“She was born the same day my mother died. I think it’s why she takes life so hard. Survivor’s guilt maybe? My mom was determined to save her. The doctors wanted to help her but all she cared about was Mariah. If she hadn’t, my sister would probably be gone.” He smiles. “We don’t talk about much when it comes to my mom, but we’ve all heard that story a million times. My aunt and sister used to have it out something fierce. Screaming at each other. Mariah talking about how unfair her life was, Mom reminding her how lucky she is to be alive. I think it’s the only time she ever brought up my mother at all.”

I hug myself and chew on the inside of my bottom lip. It sounds awful. And to think I’ve spent the last two years feeling sorry for myself. When I had a dad who was pretty much there with me my entire life. And a mom who didn’t do anything but make me feel safe.

“Why is your aunt so…angry?”

Ray chuckles. “She’s not. Not really. She’s been through a lot. I think life just got to her. She’s sacrificed a lot. I think she just doesn’t know how to process it sometimes. And the screaming matches, I didn’t mean it how it sounded. Mariah isn’t an easy one to deal with. I’ve had a few with her myself. She gave our parents hell for a lot of years. And it wasn’t really fair. They both deserved more. That’s why I don’t press them for information about the past. I don’t even talk about it. I just live in the now. It’s the best way.”

Considering everything he’s just told me I can’t even begin to understand how this guy ended up the way he did. A friendly hotter than hot giant with the kindest eyes I’ve ever had the extreme pleasure of gazing into.
 

“Do you really think raising you was a sacrifice?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah. I do.”

“Well, why? You’re family. You were just a baby.”

 
“My aunt had a life before me. She was in love pretty deep once. But she left it all behind to take care of us all because my mother asked her to.”

“How do you know?”

“I overheard her an Uncle Dave arguing one day.” He shrugs. “First time I realized they weren’t actually married.”

“What?” I can’t stop my mouth from dropping open.

Ray sighs. “Nope. Just two friends raising two kids together. Apparently he was my birth mother’s high school sweetheart and they were really good friends.”

“Your family is so messed up.” The moment I say it, I clap my hand over my mouth. “Oh, my god.” It comes out in a muffle and I close my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I should shut up now.”

Ray reaches for his wallet and replaces the photo. “Me too,” he says with a light laugh. “You’re too easy to talk to, Syd. I’m still trying to figure out how I feel about that. It’s a damn good thing you’re not a reporter.”

I lie back down and draw in a deep breath.

Ray settles into the bed again, only instead of finding his way to the other side like we agreed, he rolls onto his side, propping his head up and with one arm and staring down at me. “I can’t stop thinking about my sister,” he says. “I wonder what she’s been doing all these years. I mean, besides sitting in a jail cell. I just feel so awful. I wish I could have helped her. You know, I went home and told my aunt we were driving to Idaho tomorrow. You know what she said? That I was wasting my time. Not in so many words, but I found out they gave up on Mariah years ago. They stopped looking. And all this time…so did I.”

“You didn’t know,” I say. My mind is suddenly on the mints in my desk drawer. I have vodka breath. I remember laughing at him when he finger brushed his teeth after his shower, now he’s all fresh breathed and I smell like the bottom of a bottle.
 

And now I’m starting to sweat. The urge to throw my sheet off and scramble to the other side of the bed is overpowering.

“I can’t stop thinking about earlier either,” he says. “About the…kiss.”

I freeze. Then smile, lightly. But inside I’m grinning like a maniac.
 

Me neither.

“It was…” He falls onto his back and lets out a heavy sigh.

Kind of earth shattering. I mean, I’m not exactly the dramatic type, but minus the burping and the puking…damn.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” The question comes out in a squeak.

“I feel like such an idiot. I practically attacked you and…it was wrong. It was inappropriate and spur of the moment and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“You keep saying that to me. But it’s not. I was drunk and it shouldn’t have happened. You’re such a nice girl and I feel like every encounter we have pretty much revolves around me and my needs. Me apologizing for one thing or another. I totally took advantage of you and I feel like an ass. I am an ass.”

No. He’s not. “You’re not. I li—” Hold on, Sydney. He just told you he regrets kissing you. He blamed it on the alcohol. Are you really going to humiliate yourself further? You liked it, but apparently he did not. “It’s cool. Don’t worry about it. Hard liquor will make you do crazy things.”

I turn my head to sneak a glance. His eyes are beginning to droop and his mouth is parted slightly.
 

“Do you have a driver’s license?’ he mutters.

“Yeah.”

“Can you drive in the morning?”

“Sure.”

“Night, Syd.”

“Goodnight, Ray.”

“Sweet dreams.”

He has no idea.

I wake up first and consider myself very lucky. My legs are tangled with his and my head just inches from his chest. Ray is still knocked out and one of his arms is slung over my waist. For a few minutes, I just lie there imagining. This isn’t happenstance. It’s fate. He’s supposed to be here with me. And I’m supposed to feel this good. I can’t imagine feeling any better.

Ray stirs and I pull away. Bolting up, I climb off the bed and grab my robe.

“Hey.” He rubs his eyes then stretches out across the futon with a groan. “Morning.”

I turn my face from the set of bulging quads peaking out from beneath the blanket and head toward the bathroom.
 

“Morning,” I throw it over my shoulder, casually.
 

“Actually, I’d say we missed that.”

I angle myself so that I don’t actually face him. “What do you mean?”

“It’s almost two o’clock.”

I grab my phone from the desk. 1:52 pm. I’ve been snuggled up next to him for how many hours? I wonder if he noticed? Maybe I wasn’t the first one awake. If I wasn’t, then that means he must know I was practically clinging to him. But if he does, then why didn’t he get up? Did he want to cuddle with me? Of course not. He made it pretty clear it was the vodka talking last night. And he was pretty drunk. And I was pretty tired. So we slept in. Big deal. Totally normal.

Ray sits up in the bed, the sheet falling away from him, revealing the finest set of abs I have ever seen on person.
 

Oh, my good lord. I turn my back again.

“Gonna jump in the shower.” A nice cold one. “Then we can head out. We can even get better coffee on the way if you want.”

“And doughnuts,” he says through a yawn.

I smile. “Right.”

I spend a good thirty minutes in the bathroom, scrubbing every inch of me. I brush my teeth three times and even take the time to wash my hair, then douse it with this volumizing stuff Reese bought me. It makes me smell like cherries and gives my locks a nice shine. I decide to apply a little mascara too. It’s the clear kind, the only thing I own, but it still makes my lashes look longer and little fuller. I top it all off with vanilla flavored lip balm, just in case he decides to make another move. If he does, I’ll be ready this time. If he doesn’t…well, at least I smell nice.

It’s eight o’clock by the time we arrive in Moscow. I only managed one hour at the wheel before the side effects of my late night fantasizing did me in and Ray took over. I wake up to a stiff neck and squeeze on my knee.
 

“We’re here,” Ray’s voice rouses me.

I squint at the scene ahead of me and rub my eyes. “Where exactly is here?”
 

The passenger door is open and he’s leaning in toward me, his hands gripping the roof of the truck. We’re in a driveway. It’s dark, but floodlights illuminate the house in front of us.

“Is this it? Is this where Mariah lives?” I ask.

“This is where we’re staying,” he replies. “Not exactly the cheap motel I had in mind, but every other room in town is taken. Some event at the university. It’s a nice place. Huge. You should see inside.”

“You rented the whole place?”

“Didn’t have much of a choice, like I said, every other room was taken.”

“And no one wanted to stay here? Should we be worried?”
 

The house looks perfectly normal on the outside. Kind of picturesque in that New-England-postcard kind of way. It actually, looks more like a barn. It’s painted red and has an oddly shaped roof—the entire right side of it juts out like arrow. On top of the roof is another mini one with a window so tiny I can’t imagine what’s behind it. The entire place has a serious authentic country feel to it—isolated and surrounded by trees. So maybe more of an authentic horror movie feel if you think about it.

“Canceled reservations. It’s almost like fate,” he winks and steps aside to let me out.
 

“I don’t know, Ray. This is kind of…”

“It’s nice. Trust me.” He takes my hand, sending a jolt through me.
 

“Uh, fine. Okay.”

Inside is even creepier than outside. It’s beautiful. Everything from the walls, to the floor, the rafters and the counter tops are made of wood. It reminds me of a log cabin. Kind of like Ray’s house only far more modest. That and tacky furniture—a plaid sofa set, a multi-colored woven rug, mismatched lamps, a stove and fridge that look like they’re from 1955, oil paintings and embroideries hanging on the wall. Just like Grandma’s. So perfect it can only be the scene for a grisly double murder to be.