Beautifully Unnatural: A Young Adult Paranormal Boxed Set (122 page)

Did Gabby know how bad his addiction was?

He entered Bruce’s room and covered his nose from the stench of vomit and urine. He’d propped Bruce up on two pillows to sleep, worried the man would choke on his own vomit lying down. His eyelids fluttered, only to close again.

In a strange way, Alexander welcomed the task of caring for the inebriated man. Cleaning the room and keeping an eye on Bruce gave him something to focus on, instead of on Gabby suffering and hating him at home. The connection he had from the first day he met her had changed. It was muted and dark, instead of happy and longing. The worst part was he couldn’t hold her hand, caress her face, or kiss her forehead without her wanting to claw his eyes out. Not that he blamed her.

He bent down and picked up the clothes Bruce wore the night before and put them in the washing machine, where, of course, he found another bottle of liquor hidden behind the detergent.

A loud thump startled him and he ran back to check on Bruce. He was sprawled across the floor, face down again.

“Come on, man. Let’s get you back in bed.” Alexander tried to lift him but Bruce shoved him and cursed.

“What the hell are you doin’ in my house? Where’s my daughter?” Bruce spit, wagging his finger at him.

This was it. He had to tread cautiously. “Sir, you’re in no condition to be around your daughter.”

“You son of a—”

“Sir,” Alex cut him off, doing his best to remain calm and focused, “let me help you back to bed.”

“Get your hands off me. Where’s my daughter?”

“She’s safe.”

“Safe? Are you sayin’ she isn’t safe around me?” He spat on the floor at the idea. “I’m the only one she’s safe with.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but for now I’m not telling you where she is, not until you calm down and sober up.” How could the man in front of him be Gabby’s father? He wasn’t there to judge, but there was no way he was going to let Gabby move back into the house with him like this. If she survived. Still, his patience was being tested.

“Sober up? I’m not drunk. Who do you think you are, comin’ in my home and insultin’ me?”

“I meant no insult. It’s just that—”

“It’s just what?”

Alexander glared down at the drooling, shaking man. If he weren’t Gabby’s father Alexander would have just lifted him up and thrown him across the bed. Maybe scare the demon alcohol out of the man if he spread his wings and ranted about his sin. Yeah, that would sober Bruce up quick. It would also blow any chance of Alexander ever seeing Gabby again. Assuming she’d ever agree to see him after what happened.

How did things get so screwed up?

“Listen,” Alexander said, taking a calming breath, “you can sit there all day in your own vomit or let me help you up.”

His red swollen eyes cast down at the floor beneath him. He raised a hand, scrunching his face as he studied the residue on his palm. Then he gagged and expelled more stomach fluids.

Alexander stepped back and took a quick breath through his mouth, trying not to get sick himself. With a sleeve covering his face, he made his way to the bathroom to retrieve a roll of paper towels and a damp washcloth.

“Come on, take my hand,” he said upon returning. He stretched out a hand, extending it to Bruce.

“I can do it myself,” Bruce snarled. He slipped and fell back repeatedly until he finally gave up and raised his hand to Alexander.

Without a word, he helped Bruce to the bathroom and put him in the tub. He appeared confused until Alexander turned on the cold water and hosed him off with the sprayer, clothes, and all.

Bruce twisted and fought but gave up quickly, too weak to defend himself.

“Here. Dry off and change while I work on cleaning up your room. Fresh clothes are on the hamper.” Alexander left the bathroom with the bottle of mouthwash in tow as a precaution, not sure if it had any alcohol in it.

After changing the sheets, he slipped his cell phone from his pocket and dialed home. It only rang once before Sammy’s cheerful voice answered.

“How’s it going over there?” Sammy asked.

Alexander ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t believe she’s had to live like this. He’s in bad shape.”

“You shouldn’t be there. What if he finds out—”

“He won’t. How could he possibly figure it out?”

“Still, be careful.”

Alex sighed. “I will. How’s Gabby?”

There was a long defining pause, and his heart pounded faster.

“Oh God. Please…no…I—”

“No, Alex. She’s alive. I’m sorry. It’s just that, well, she’s not herself. She’s so angry and confused. I don’t know how Grace can stand it. I wish I could do more, but Grace says it’s better if she stays with her.”

“I wish I could be with her. I wish…I wish I hadn’t—” His voice broke.

“Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t mean for this to happen.”

A fissure ran through his chest, threatening to break every rib under the pressure of guilt. “I should’ve told her the truth. I should’ve stayed away from her.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Alexander spun around to find Bruce leaning against the door jam.

“I’ve gotta go,” Alexander said into the phone. “Call ya later.” He hit
end
on his cell before Sammy could respond. “I was talking to my sister.”

Bruce took a step and almost toppled over. Alex steadied him and helped him to the bed.

“Why are you here?” Bruce held his belly and looked up at Alexander with pleading eyes, his head resting against the pillows wedged against the wall at the top of the mattress. “You need to tell me where my daughter is.”

Alexander sighed. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“Both, sir. It’s best for both of you.”

“No,” Bruce shook his head. “I’m her father. She needs to be home.”

Alexander squatted down to the worn wood floor and started to clean up the mess. “No offense, but do you really want her to see you like this?”

“She’s…my daughter…I have…a right…” Bruce’s snores filled the room.

Alexander sighed and continued cleaning.

If not for Bruce’s snorts and grunts, the silence in the house would have been deafening. Trying to keep his mind off Gabby, Alexander checked three more times for hidden bottles, cleaned the bedroom and bathroom, and started another load of laundry.

Then he spent the next twenty minutes pacing the floor until he couldn’t take it anymore. He looked in on Bruce one final time, then took off into the air for home. It had been days since he rested in his own bed and ate Grace’s cooking.

He landed on the beach and walked up the front steps. The aroma of fresh bread greeted him.

Grace exited the front door, a package in her hand and eyes set. “What do you think you’re doing? You know you can’t be here. It’ll just aggravate her condition. Of course, I’d knew you’d show, so here’s something to eat.”

“She still hates me, doesn’t she?” Alexander took the small container and sunk onto the white wicker love seat on the front porch.

“She doesn’t hate you, son. If she did, this wouldn’t be so difficult for her.” Grace put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It’s all my fault. All of it. Why do I hurt everyone I love?”

Grace sat next to him and took his hands in hers. “You need to trust she’ll get through this on her own. I know it’s hard for you, but you have to stay away. You can’t help. Just trust her. She can fight this on her own. She’s a strong girl.”

“She’s been through so much. You wouldn’t believe how she’s been living. That man calls himself her father—”

“Don’t judge, Alexander,” Grace chastised him, her expression stern. “You have no room to judge. None of us do. Help him. Put your talents to use and help him recover.”

Alexander knew she was right, but all he wanted to do was go inside and be with Gabby. Hold her and tell her to fight, to live. Sure, he longed for her forgiveness, but if hating him got her through this then hate him she should.

“I don’t know if he can be saved. He’s so far gone.”

“There’s always a chance. I won’t give up on Gabby and you shouldn’t give up on Bruce. I have to believe we can save them both.”

“I’ll try, but not for him. I’ll do it for Gabby. I know I caused his pain but he shouldn’t have abandoned Gabby because of it.”

“Alexander, you don’t know what he’s been through. You can’t know everything. If you don’t give him a chance, he won’t be able to heal.”

He sighed. “I’ll try. Just make sure you take care of Gabby. If she asks for me, you promise to let me see her?”

“Yes, of course. Just have faith.”

Faith?
He hadn’t had any since his fall. He stepped off the porch and took to the air, hearing Grace’s sigh before he reached the tree line.

The house still smelled of alcohol and vomit when he returned, and his shoulders slumped. He wished he could’ve at least seen Gabby. But what did he think would happen? He knew what he’d hoped for, that she would call out for him the moment he stepped onto the porch, begging him to stay by her side.

He sighed and eased the back door shut. Maybe, just maybe, if he could help her father, it would help her forgive him. Entering the kitchen, he tossed the container onto the counter, unable to eat.

Bruce’s screams drew his attention down the hall. He raced through the house and found Bruce in his room. He held a knife out defensively, his eyes wild, staring at the wall.

“I told you to stay away. You won’t get me, too.”

“Bruce, its Alex. Who’re you talking to?”

Bruce turned abruptly, his face covered in sweat. “Oh G-god. I-it can’t be.”

The look of horror on Bruce’s face made Alexander turn and look behind him, even though he knew no one was there.

“It’s okay, Bruce.” Alexander took a step closer and lifted his hand to remove the knife but Bruce shot forward, lunging to stab Alexander. Jumping out of the way, he watched the man fall to the floor then scramble back to his feet. What was going on?

“Y-your wings…they’re beautiful.” Bruce’s face changed to a look of awe as he lowered the knife long enough for Alexander to pry it from his grip. But his admiration didn’t last long. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Bruce accused. “Coming to finish me off? Takin’ my wife wasn’t enough. Now you’ve stolen my daughter and want my life, too?” A vein pulsed on Bruce’s forehead. “You don’t belong here. It’s unnatural,” he slurred then spat on the floor.

Alexander felt the hatred growing stronger in the room, heavy and oppressive.

“How can you live here with us?” Bruce rambled on. “You’re not human. You’re pure evil. You might have wings but your eyes…evil. You…”

Bruce continued but Alexander stopped listening, his thoughts confused. How could Bruce see his wings? He went to the mirror, thinking he might have changed into his angel form without even knowing it, but all he saw was a human boy staring back at him.

“What? Bruce said, his words dripping with disdain. “You don’t know how hideous you look? Or are you gloating at your superior strength? Don’t think I can’t kill you. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.”

Alexander continued to look at his reflection. It was probably unnatural to not have a single blemish on his face, no scar, no acne, nothing. It wasn’t a normal teenage face, he knew that, but it wasn’t the face of a fallen angel either.

He glanced back at Bruce, still trying to figure out how the man could see his angel form without him revealing it.

Bruce collapsed onto the bed, his eyes wide. “Do you smell that? It’s lovely. I…it’s her. Am I dying? Goin’ to Heaven? It’s not where I thought I was destined but it’s where she’d be.”

Alexander sat on the corner of the mattress and looked into Bruce’s dazed eyes. “What do you smell?”

“Perfume. Shampoo. Perfection. All of
her
smells.” Bruce continued to stare off at nothing.

Alexander didn’t smell anything but the stale stench of vomit. Had he missed a hidden bottle of booze somewhere? “Who?”

“Eliana, my beloved. My wife. The most perfect woman ever to walk this Earth.”

Now, Alexander was completely confused. Eliana was dead. He’d seen it with his own eyes. So, how could Bruce smell her?

Forras. It had to be Forras. He hadn’t surfaced since he harmed Gabby. The coward.

Alexander went to the window and scanned the backyard. No sign of him, but he had to be there. What else could it be?

He checked the room for any more weapons and pulled a gun from a drawer. Tucking the gun into his pants, he put the knife back in the kitchen. After checking the inside of the house, and ensuring Bruce was still lost in a daze in his room, he walked around the outside perimeter. He stopped by the tree he used to sit in to listen as Gabby slept.

There was no sign of Forras, only memories everywhere of Gabby.

He went back into the house and did another sweep, but still nothing. Returning to Bruce’s room, he watched the man lying on his side, mumbling to an invisible Eliana on the pillow next to him.