Wuthering Frights (14 page)

"Thanks ... to you and Knight," I grumbled.

"Don't worry; I'll fatten you up," she said and pinched my left butt cheek ... a little too hard.

"Ouch, Sam!" I yelled, swatting her hand away.

As soon as I walked into her house, the aroma of eggs and bacon welcomed my nostrils. I knew I was in for a treat because Sam was an amazing cook. "Mmm, what smells so completely awesome?" I asked, my stomach growling in agreement, as I dropped my backpack on her sofa, followed by my leather bike jacket. Motorcycle riding was getting old fast just based on the need for constant wardrobe changes. Sidling up to her counter, I took a seat on one of her barstools, swiveling around to face her.

She smiled proudly. "Well, eggs and bacon with fresh-squeezed orange juice, made from the oranges from my tree, I might add. And then we have blueberry breakfast casserole, zucchini and sweet potato frittata, and snicker-doodle bread."

"Um," I started, a look of mild concern on my face. "Aside from me, what army do you plan to feed this morning?"

Sam waved me away with her hand as if she were brushing away crumbs. "I have all these recipes my friends keep pinning on Pinterest, so you're just a good excuse to try them out."

I said nothing but shook my head and smiled at my best friend, suddenly incredibly grateful to Knight that he'd orchestrated this whole thing. Of course, thoughts of Knight led to memories of last night and I had to firmly push them from my mind, reminding myself for the nth time that what I'd done had to be done—that in the long run, I was doing Knight a huge favor.

"Okay, Dulce, go sit at the table because breakfast is ready," Sam said, untying her apron and reaching for what I imagined was the blueberry casserole—the verdant blue splotches in the otherwise white dough being my first clue. I followed her to her dining table, pulling out my chair as I watched her gingerly place the casserole on a trivet. Then she returned to the kitchen for dish number two. The fresh squeezed orange juice was already sitting in a clear jug on the table and the eggs and bacon on a large plate just beside the orange juice.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to get into my pants," I said with a laugh, filling my glass with OJ.

Sam glanced at me and smiled widely. "As if! And, besides, I'm well aware that somebody else already filled that position, no pun intended."

I smiled at her very-much-intended pun before my smile turned into a frown and a resigned, despondent sigh. I watched her deliver the frittata and the snicker-doodle bread, placing both directly in front of me. She handed me a serving knife, motioning that I should cut myself a slice of the bread. Then she busied herself with piling a heaping spoonful of scrambled eggs on my plate, three pieces of bacon and an even larger serving of frittata. When she started in on the blueberry breakfast casserole, I had to say something.

"Go easy, there," I begged. She offered me a raised brow but gave me a reasonable serving. Then after fussing around me like she had the Queen of England at her breakfast table, she sat in her seat and started serving herself.

"So why the sigh?" she demanded. I should have known better than to think my best friend would ever let anything slip by. So, figuring the news would soon be known anyway, I decided it was best for Sam to hear it directly from the horse's mouth.

"Knight and I broke up," I said, in a dejected tone.

She didn't respond for a few seconds, taking a bite of her blueberry casserole as she stared at me. Swallowing it, she took a swig of orange juice, surprising me by asking, "What do you think of the blueberry casserole? Good?"

I hadn't even tried the casserole, or anything else for that matter, but I couldn't say my mind was on food. "Um, did you hear what I just said?" I was completely thrown when she hadn't jumped on the topic, not that I wanted her to, but, still, it surprised me.

She simply nodded although I noticed her jaw was clenched and she looked annoyed. "Of course I heard you, but I chose to ignore it."

I frowned at her. "That doesn't sound like the Sam I know and love so well."

She was about to take another sip of her juice, but seemed to change her mind and plunked the glass down so hard, some of the juice splashed out. "I just don't get you, Dulcie," she said, shaking her head as she glared at me. "Knight is a great guy
.
And what's more, he's perfect for you." She was silent for a few more seconds. "I just don't understand why you destroy every chance you have for happiness, not to mention that I think it's totally shitty to hurt Knight like that."

"I said 'we broke up' not 'I broke up with him'," I corrected her, even though the truth of the matter was that I had been the architect. It annoyed me, however, that Sam automatically assumed all the blame rested on my shoulders.

"You didn't have to say who did it, because I just made an educated guess based on how well I know you," she retorted. "So was I right? Were you the one who ended things with him?"

I nodded and then immediately held up my hands in a rendition of
it wasn't my fault
! "I didn't mean to," I started, wondering what exactly I was going to tell her. Earlier, I decided to just blame the whole thing on my hang-ups from my relationship with Jack, but I knew I couldn't lie to her, my best friend. But I also couldn't tell her the truth. Aye, there
was
the rub. "I didn't have a choice, Sam."

She frowned again. "Didn't have a choice? Everyone has a choice." Then she eyed me speculatively.

I shook my head. "I ..." I stared down at my fork on which I'd speared some eggs, but the thought of getting them past my lips was completely out of the question. I'd just lost any appetite I might have had. That burning feeling of acidic bile in my stomach, which
had become a permanent tenant
ever since my return from the Netherworld, was back in full force.

"Dulcie, what's going on with you?" Sam asked, putting her fork down as she stared at me. "You're not acting like yourself."

"I'm fine," I started and tried to act unconcerned, but Sam saw right through me. I should have known she would.

"Whatever it is, we can get through it together."

I swallowed hard. "It's not so simple," I started, finding myself at a loss for words.

"Well, for God's sake, tell me what it is!" I just took a deep breath and so she continued. "You've been so weird lately, I wasn't even sure if you were going to show up this morning."

"Of course I was going to …" I started, but she interrupted me.

"Ever since you got back from the Netherworld, you've been different, Dulcie. You've been avoiding everyone, not answering your phone, not returning phone calls. What happened to you while you were there?" I tried to answer, but she shook her head, signifying that her tirade wasn't over. "Do you realize you never even told me what happened while you were in the Netherworld or why you went, for that matter? You've kept me completely in the dark."

I took a deep breath. "I left you a message to let you know I was back and that I was okay," I said. My words rang hollow and weak. She was right, I hadn't treated her like the friend she was—really, Sam was the closest person to me. She was more like family than a friend.

"Dulcie, I was worried sick about you, wondering what the hell you were doing there. Not to mention, what was going to happen to you and Knight? And talking to Dia didn't make matters any better. The two of us were nervous wrecks. I couldn't sleep that whole week! And then all you can say is that you're back and you don't want to talk about it?" Her tone was becoming frantic and it was pretty obvious she'd been keeping all of this bottled inside her, finally reaching her boiling point.

"I'm sorry, Sam," I said in a mousey voice as I exhaled deeply, searching for some excuse as to why I'd failed her as a friend. "I've just been through so much lately, I barely know what to think of any of it myself."

"That's what your best friend is for," she responded, her tone softer. "Whatever you're going through, I'm here to help you. You don't have to go through it alone." She took a deep breath. "But in order for me to help you, you're going to have to tell me what the problem is."

But I shook my head, knowing she was wrong, that I couldn't tell her anything or I'd be endangering her. "Sam, I can't tell you the specifics, and please don't push me because I can't and I won't."

She eyed me with concern. "What happened to you in the Netherworld, Dulcie?"

I swallowed hard and shook my head again. "I can't talk about it."

She reached across the table and took my hand, her eyes piercing through me. "Are you in trouble?"

I took another deep breath. "Not at the moment and that's why I can't talk about anything. Just trust me when I say I'm handling it, okay?"

"What does that even mean?"

I stood up, feeling claustrophobic, like the feelings of turmoil were suddenly caving in on me, suffocating me with angst. I started for the door. "Sam, I can't do this," I said, my voice wavering between anger and sadness. "I have to keep you safe and as part of that, I can't tell you what's going on." I reached for my backpack and jacket. "You have to just trust me on this, okay?"

"Okay," she said and stood up, pulling at my backpack as she motioned for me to sit down again. "Please don't go. I won't press you anymore, I promise."

I just nodded and offered her an apologetic smile as I returned to her dining table again. "I'm sorry, Sam, but things are just going to have to be this way for a while, until I can figure a way out."

She started worrying her lower lip, something she did whenever she was frustrated or upset. "Does Knight know about any of this?"

"No!" I responded automatically. The thought that she might tell him started wreaking havoc with my stomach. "And he can't know anything! Not even that we had this conversation, okay? Promise me you will keep this to yourself."

She nodded. "I promise."

"Charm promise it," I said, knowing that if she charmed herself into promising, she literally wouldn't be able to break the power of the spell, no matter how hard she tried.

She frowned at me, probably because she was annoyed I hadn't trusted her enough not to say anything without the protection of a charm. Eventually, though, she stood up and walked over to her potions cabinet. Her potions cabinet was a two-foot-by-two-foot white box with matching doors that she'd mounted on the wall beside the front door, for easy access. She bottled a multitude of charms in vials in case she needed them right away and didn't have the time or energy to go through the rigmarole of performing each one.

The charm I sought, one which discouraged blabbermouths, was pretty commonplace so I wasn't surprised when she located it right away, taking out a vial filled with amber liquid. It was about the size of my thumb. She closed the cabinet doors behind her and then removed the cork from the top of the vial. Once it was free, she eyed me askance (another reminder that she was miffed I'd made her do this) and downed the liquid, saying aloud: "Whatever Dulcie O'Neil tells me, I will keep in strict confidence."

She carried the vial to the dishwasher and put it in for the next load. Then she faced me with anxiety in her eyes. "Does all this have something to do with why you broke things off with Knight?"

I nodded, my eyes suddenly feeling heavy with exhaustion. "It has everything to do with why I broke up with Knight."

She nodded and dropped her gaze to the floor before glancing up at me again. "Then you do still love him?"

Even though I was surprised to hear her using the "L word," mainly because I hadn't realized I'd been so obvious in my affection for the Loki, I just sighed and nodded. I figured on this one count, I might as well be honest.

"Is there anyone you can talk to about this, Dulcie?" Sam asked, her expression filled with concern. "Is there anyone you trust whom you can talk to?"

There was one person—Quill, but he was as deep in all this shit as I was. Plus, I didn't think he'd appreciate me lamenting my shattered relationship with Knight. I shook my head. "I have to figure a way out of it, Sam, but I'll find a way." I offered her a tentative smile. "You know me."

She returned the smile, but hers was wistful. "If anyone can, it's you. I just hope you know what you're doing and I also hope you aren't in serious trouble." She sighed heavily. "I really wish you'd tell me what's going on, Dulce. I'm sure I could help you."

I shook my head. "I can't tell you anything, Sam."