Aconite (The Elektita Series Book 1) (6 page)

I peeled out of my
rain stiffened clothes from the night before. I normally relished my showers,
but this time I did what only needed to be done. I pulled on a lavender
sweater, white washed skinny jeans, and white wrap-around heels. I decided
against makeup, jerking my hair into a haphazard pony tail. Just before heading
out the door I threw a pair of sweats, plain tee, and black pumas into my bag;
burying my cell. I gave a quick wave towards the man at the front desk. It was
kind of nice seeing a new face. Linda was finally able to enjoy some time off.
He flashed me a wolfish grin just as I stepped out the door. I was in too big
of a hurry to walk so I took the Bug instead.

As I came closer
to the cafe, pain began to sweep through me; both emotional and physical. The
tears that I woke with returned, blurring my vision. I blinked and wiped at my
face, pushing the tears away. I didn't think I could bear much more by the time
I reached the cafe, curb checking as I pulled into the parking lot. The lot was
absent of any other cars but the all too familiar blood red Jag that had been
parked horizontally, taking up most of the spaces. The pounding in my head was
deafening as panic set in.

"I can't do
this!" I began to chant with increasing hysteria. I finally managed to
pull myself out of the car. Fear fueling the pain, I slid down the side of my
bug causing my shirt to ride up exposing my back to its cold touch. I hit the
ground with immediate force. A quick jolt of pain shot up my spine before the
contact with the earth helped to ground me. Deep breaths were again achievable
and I let the pine and salt in the air ebb the roller coaster of emotions to
nothing but a dull roar. I couldn't tell how long I sat there, alone in my own
head but it was long enough that the sun had made her full debut. I stroked my
arms trying to sooth the small waves of emotion that still cascaded through me.
I had an overwhelming urge to do what I did best; stuff whatever crisis I was
dealing with into a tiny safe deep within me and save it for never. But I
couldn't do that, not this time. So instead I shook myself free of those
restraints and pushed myself off the ground.

The pain
threatened to return as I wiped the remaining tears from my eyes and popped the
trunk. I grabbed my paint supplies and headed for my office. In the entryway
pain suddenly shot through me. The paint and brushes met the floor with an
audible thud. Without warning Jonathon was there. My pain riddled body was limp
in his embrace, his black eyes sweeping my body for the source of my problem. I
was so worn out that I let him hold me, worry over me, before paranoia set in.
Could he see my growing madness? I wiggled out of his grasp, releasing vivid
details of last night’s dream. My body was instantaneous in its lust.

"I'm
fine!" I snapped in response to his unspoken concern. My tone was harsher
than I had meant it, but that was mostly due to my own issues. He stepped
towards me, concern still written in the lines of his face. Black depthless
orbs stood out against his cream complexion. His whole being oozed sincerity.
Unnecessary rage began to seep out of the safe that held my insanity.

How dare you not
listen to me!  How dare you have such contentment in your life while I'm on a
bullet train to crazy town! Those were the words that I really wanted to
scream. But blaming others for my own problems was not something that I would
do. Frantically I tried to shove it all back in, locking it down even tighter.
I scanned the room, trying to find anything that could ground me the same way the
cool touch of earth had.

The crimson chair
sat in the far corner. I locked in on that, taking a few breaths, focusing on
today. The crimson bled into my sight flowing over me, pulling me out of the
haze that was this morning. Finally feeling stable enough to return my
attention to Jonathon I instantly wished I hadn't. His stare pierced my soul.
His glare felt as though he could see into the very workings of my inner self.
He followed along with my melt down as if he was experiencing it himself. He
didn't ask a single question just gave me time, watching and waiting to see
what his next move should be. There wasn't even the slightest hint of hurt or
anger at my outburst. When I felt the beginnings of pain stir within me
Jonathon refocused his attention on the chair that seemed to be my saving
grace.

"Planning to
redecorate?" His sexy smirk was distracting me from the melt down within.

"That was the
plan." The paint supplies were now sitting on my desk thanks to Jonathon.
I sat and spun around in my chair, basking in its glory. This piece of
furniture was therapy. I hadn't felt this calm all morning. I worked to ignore
the feel of Jonathon's eyes along my body. The warmth in their caress was far
more enticing than I would like. The need growing within set off small sizzles
of pain across my skin. I really needed to get ahold of myself. 

"Where is
everyone?" His laugh that followed my question was harsh and lacked any
humor.

"If you would
ever answer that blasted cell I gave you, you wouldn't be here either." I
didn't feel like digging for my phone so I took him at his word.

"Then what
are you doing here?" My tone still sounded strained.

"Business."
His clipped response mimicked my tone.

"As you can
see your business is closed." I emphasized my point with a wave towards
the sparse parking lot. I didn't know what had gotten into me but flippant
wasn't how I normally operated.

 "Were you
even planning on asking your boss if you could redecorate his office?" The
emphasis on boss and his was clear. The fact that he had changed subjects had
not escaped me though.

"I
specifically remember you saying that this was my office," I shot back.

His silence was
bloated and a bit unnerving. I watched as he slowly leaned towards me. I
couldn't help the excitement that ran through me. His eyes flashed in
satisfaction just before he spun me around in my chair, wheeling me towards the
door.

"You should
be happy I approve of the chair." The heat in his words danced across my
ear.

I slammed my eyes
shut, relishing in the sensory overload last night's dream gifted me. Clenching
my fists tight, I simultaneously wished it away. I came to a stop alone in the
hall.

"You'll need
help moving the furniture out." This time his voice came from inside the
office. I could have sworn he rolled me all the way out here.

I took a deep,
shuddering breath just before returning to the office from changing clothes.
Jonathon had already begun moving the desk into the hall. The way his muscles
moved under his clothes felt far more interesting than anything else at the
moment. I wondered what he would do if I just stood back and admired him while
he did all the heavy lifting. He shot me a knowing smile, clearly satisfied
with my attention. I blushed and hurried myself with helping to empty the room.

"What about
the bill?" I hadn't forgotten that for any of this to be here it meant
that he had to have paid for it on delivery.

"We can
discuss reimbursement at a later date." His answer slid up my curves at
the same speed as his eyes. It was nerve wracking and left payment to my
imagination. After last night I couldn't think of a more appropriate outcome.

 We worked in
companionable silence until the room was empty of all things that made it an
office. The silence continued even after I grabbed a broom and began to sweep.
Sometime during our work I noticed the earlier pain that had dropped me to the
ground had faded so completely that I had to concentrate to sense the pulse
that so closely mimicked my heart beat. Jonathon watched me, making no effort
to help or hinder my progress. His gaze burned along my skin as I worked. I
kept my back to him not wanting to show how much it was affecting me. 

"Thank
you," I whispered when I felt strong enough to keep my feelings off my
face. I turned just in time to see a momentary flash of sadness cross his
handsome features before quickly being replaced with his usual smile. He
crossed the room to stand in front of me. The connection that we seemed to
share flared to life when he placed his hand atop of mine, stopping the broom’s
forward motion. Now it stood as the only barrier from a more physical
connection.

"It was my
pleasure." His response came out low and husky. He stared down at his hand
that engulfed my own, slowly sliding it away. The feel of his calloused hand ran
trails of need along my skin as it slid completely away. He blinked up at me
before turning to leave me alone with my work. It was hard to breathe past the
urge to follow him out of the cafe and fuck him on top of his pretty car. 
Something was wrong with me and I needed to get a grip. I turned towards the
plain white walls and knew I needed to lose myself in my work.

I ran the primer
coat up and down the walls letting the lust dwindle away. But with its retreat
pain stroked my chest in its absence. The pain was slow at first, churning deep
within, pushing unwanted emotion towards the surface. Everything that had sent
me into a panic now sat threatening to escape once more. I needed to keep
working. That seemed to help keep it all at bay. The brush strokes felt like
balm to my soul. With each pass the multitude of issues within began to slink
back. For the first time in days my mind felt clearer. This solitary task held
no conflicting emotions or growing hysteria–it was wonderful. By the time I was
finished, I collapsed in the center of the room from complete exhaustion. Time
was of no consequence, slowing to let me have these moments of peace; giving
the reprieve I had been seeking for the past few days.

I sat alone in the
center of the room letting the peace and quiet wash over me. I was numb to the
world, unable to see or feel what was going on around me. A shocked gasp echoed
through the hollow room stealing away my peace. I wanted to rage my anger at
the intrusion. But a low predatory growl kicked the door open, letting in all
that I had worked so hard to hide away.

I swirled around,
giving my full attention to the other occupants of the room. Their entrance had
shattered my self-imposed blindfolds letting in all that I had kept out. I took
in what I had done and nothing came to mind. No memory of actually putting
paint on the wall would form.

"Who am
I?" My voice came out harsh and unrecognizable. 

Jonathon's
murderous expression was not focused on me but the wall directly behind me.
Rage radiated off him, escalating my hysterics. Jo's wide green eyes where
filled with nothing but shock. Jonathon spun, storming out of the cafe and the
door slammed with such force it shook the foundation. I wanted to chase after
him and fix whatever the cause of his anger was. Jo remained frozen in the
doorway, soaking in the painted room and unaware of his departure. Crimson
streaked tears splattered the tile beneath me as I rose from my position on the
floor.

My movement broke
Jo from her revere and she sprinted the short distance between us arms already
outstretched. She threw herself at me causing us both to fall to the floor. She
didn't care one bit that the paint would ruin her steam-punk styled dress. Her
actions had stopped all notions of following Jonathon pulling all my focus to
her and this moment. I still tried to find any piece of memory that would tie
me to what was painted on the once white walls. But there was absolutely
nothing. It was like I was a pilot who just set the plane on auto pilot and
stepped away to let the machine do what it was designed to do. In this case I
had mentally stepped aside and let something else take hold.

"Beautiful!"
Her reaction was unexpected given how Jonathon had just stormed out of here
like a man on a mission. I pried each of her arms from around my chest, one by
one, setting us on the floor. Childlike wonder filled her eyes, enraptured by
my madness given life. I scrutinized her face for any signs of worry or anger
but none came, there was only excitement. She left me on the floor while she
spun through the room, careful of the paint.

"You are
here." Her statement was breathless when she finally came to a stop. I
heard her but my instability made comprehension impossible.

"What?"
I finally choked out. Jo jumped seeming startled. She must not have realized
she had spoken out loud.

"I
mean....how are you not working as an artist selling your work to reach people
and art galleries?"

"I can't
draw," was all I could say. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows shot up making
her eyes even bigger.

"Bullshit!"
She grabbed my head forcing me to look at what I had done. I knew my mind could
not handle it but here Jo was forcing me to really see what I had done.

We stood in a
pitch dark night; the fan hung sleeping above us. Crimson swirled along a black
canvas tossing twinkling stars around the room. The movement settled around
vast naked trees that grew along one wall. An orange hued moon played
peek-a-boo between the branches. The mural felt eerily familiar, but I knew I
had never seen anything like it. The magic of the false night settled over me,
lending me some of its calm. I came to the stark realization that I was utterly
alone. Not alone by definition. Jo still stood next to me, but the churning
emotions, hell even the place they came from, was gone.

I shuffled through
all my dreams that I have had through the years. They never left nor faded—just
remained the same. More like memories. There it was in more than one of my
dreams. I had painted a picture of an image that had followed me through my
dreams. It was a match. The only detail that would have made it perfect would
be if it the swirls could glide along the wall just as they had in my dream.

"I flunked
art," I said. There was no way I could have done this. My art teacher in
high school made me switch electives even before she handed out the first grade
of the year.

"Apparently
you're a late bloomer," Jo said with a hint of laughter in her voice. I
didn't know what to say to that. Shock still had a hold on my thought process.
I would have been able to argue with her if I myself wasn't standing right here
as evidence of the contrary.

"Wait, what
are you doing here?" I asked trying to grab hold of a bit of normalcy.
Jonathon had said that nobody was supposed to be at work today. Yet here Jo
stood witnessing my insanity painted on the wall.

 "I've been
looking for you all day. I didn't think you'd be here going all Van Gogh on the
place," she said as she gave a nod to the wall with the moon on it. Before
I knew it I was smiling just as she was. Bliss. Van Gogh. Yup, that's me
alright. I didn't want to know how insanity and artistic ability coincided. I
wanted to bask in the silence. So I dug deep inside and pulled out the box that
I shoved everything unwanted and stuffed that thought deep inside hoping that I
would never have to pull it back out.

"Really? What
did you need?"

"Well, I was
going to take you out for breakfast but seeing as it is growing late we should
probably make that dinner."

"What!"
I yelped; so much for that serenity. I bounded past Jo towards the back door.
The outdoor view was a replica of my painting. Holy shit, time truly did give
me a reprieve. In my mind only a few hours had passed. My stomach grumbled with
my realization. I thought I had drawn something from a dream instead I had
pulled the night sky in and threw it against the wall. The time that it had
taken me to paint the scene was nowhere within my memory. It was as though the
time never truly existed. Jo met me in the parking lot with my bag in hand.