Eluding Nirvana (The Dark Evoke Series Book 2) (7 page)

“Liam…” I called at the same time
as jiggling the knob fiercely and repeatedly, panic apparent in my hasty attempts. “Liam, can you help me please?”

From the opposite side of the barrier, I heard hea
vy footsteps approaching. “Kady?”

“Thank God, Liam.” I pressed my brow against the white wo
od. “The door is jammed I think. I can’t get out.”

“Hold on.
Stand back okay, baby. I don’t want you getting caught by the rebound. Tell me when you’re at safe distance.” Oh, good grief, he was talking like he was going to test some kind of military defense weapon.

The bed was touching the back of my legs when I gave him the
all-clear. A little click followed by Liam’s body charging through the now opened door, had me sagging with relief. The first words from him were, “That was new,” which was trailed by his eyes following his hand as he ran it up the frame speculatively, giving it the once over in a nonchalant approach to detect the cause.

“It’s okay, you got it open.” I meandered sleepily towards my knight in shining ar
mor. Hands which displayed my gratitude rose and were quickly pressed against his powder blue shirt, sweeping and clawing over the body which I loved, a body which I would do anything in this world for no matter how obscene. “Thank you for rescuing me, Mr. DeLaney,” I murmured with a flirty grin and was awarded with a soft, delicate kiss. Hmm…he tasted like strawberries.

“Thank you for needing rescuing
, Miss Jenson. I’m glad my work here is done. Breakfast?”

Breakfast?
He was going to cook? Inwardly scoffing at the thought, I however, managed to see past the undomesticated ways of Liam DeLaney and gave myself a stern pep-talk. I should’ve been thankful that he was exiting his comfort zone and making the effort. I nodded my agreement and told him I was going to wash up first.

With a morning kiss to send my world out of orbit, he left me to do my thing.

I’m not going to lie; I half expected to see the apartment looking like a bomb testing site when I stepped out of the bedroom. As I tread down the hallway, I was beyond amazed to see everything gone. No red plastic cups, no spider webs, skeletons or ghouls. No empty snack bowls, or bowls full of slime, no pumpkin heads or hanging witches, just everything how and where it should be. I smiled and sighed with profound appreciation at the zero amount of workload for yours truly.

Pulling free my blond locks through the black turtleneck, I s
pluttered after being whipped in the face by the flicking tips of my hair and I continued to tread lightly to the kitchen, when I overheard hushed voices.

“She is my sister. Don’t think I won––”

“Oh, Brittany, would you really risk stooping that low? Get over it.”

“Good morning,” I
piped, sending the pair jumping back and out of their skin when I entered. I giggled to myself. “You know, it’s customary for the party to say ‘good morning’ back, not leave a fucking crater in the ceiling,” I teased, heading for the coffee pot which was obscured by my sister’s curvy form. Her arms were folded across her ample chest, her legs crossed at the ankles as she rested the small of her back on the edge of the counter. She was peeking down at her feet. For Brittany Jenson, she appeared somewhat abashed.

The clash
ing of vibrant colors from her bright green hair and thick purple pantyhose with a small red tartan-like skirt was doing nothing for my eyes. I was half tempted to dial for the fashion police myself. That being said, Brittany had always been in a league of her own. She was a shepherd not a sheep, and I admired her for that.

“Mor
ning, sis,” she sounded on edge. It wasn’t until she finally wrenched her head back, that I noticed how pale she was.

“Hey…
” concerned, I instantly set the pot back on its stand and turned to my usually vivacious sister. “Britt, you don’t look so good.”

“She was drinking last night. She’s probably got a hangover.”
Liam’s husky explanation came from behind my shoulder as soon as I lifted my hand to her forehead.

“Is that all it is Britt, just a normal hangover?”
I sounded far from convinced. She may have been an adult, but she was still younger than me, so technically, she was in my care. And if there was something wrong with my sister, then I wanted to know.

Fidgeting as she gazed over my shoulder, a spell passe
d in silence. Shifting into her line of sight with widened-eyes, I urged her to speak. She finally opened her glossy lips. “Yes…no…I don’t know…maybe––”

“For the love of God, Brittany,
‘she used to be indecisive, now she’s not so sure’?” I quoted Mom’s motto for uncertainty. My usual sense of humor aimed toward my sibling would have gained me a small niggle of her knuckles in my ribs, before hauling me into a hug, at the very least. But she just remained standing there, ashen, trembling and soundless…everything that’s very un-Brittany-like. “You’re worrying me, Brittany.”

I watched o
n as her focus dwindled from me, to the man behind me. Her sapphire eyes were welling up with every peaceful second that past and she looked…repentant? I don’t know, but I didn’t care for it. As though she couldn’t bear to look at me, she hung her head again.

“Kady
baby, if Brittany isn’t well, surely it’s not fair for us to keep her here. Maybe she’d like to go home. You know what it’s like when you’re ill, you want your own bed.” I couldn’t disagree. Who doesn’t want their own bed when they’re ill? Then again, the selfish part of me wanted to keep my sister around a little while longer. We very rarely had those times anymore, and it had only been a day for God sake. Actually, no, it was less than a day I got to spend in the company of my sibling.

Her head was coaxed up with my finger under her chin. A tear fell from her eye and
rolled its way unhurried down the side of her face. Cooing her in my ‘big sister’ like fashion, I brushed it away with my thumb. Seeing her ill was something I hated. I hated seeing her cry, but most of all: I hated seeing her crying because she felt so damn ill. I framed her face with my hands and swept my tongue over my drying lips.

“I’m sorry, Kady,” she
mumbled on a sob.

“Hey, hey, hey, come on, come here, Britt.” Sisterly arms wrapped around each other,
I held her close as she snuggled into my neck and surrendered to her tears. It was my action to mimic Mom’s pacifying strokes through her scalp that finally had her sniffles ebbing. “It’ll be okay, Britt. Do you want to go back D.C.?” I asked in her mass of green hair, that self-centered part of me still hoping that she would say ‘no’.

“No, I don’t,” she pulled away and
once again, her eyes subtly drifted over my shoulder. She licked her lips, the tip of her tongue capturing a salty droplet which lay peacefully on her lip. “But I think it’s for the best if I do.”

Squashed and
disappointed, I simply rolled my lips over my teeth, sighed heavily and enforced a nod. I couldn’t tie her up and command her to stay. “Okay. Let Mom and Dad know about the change of plans. We’ll take you to the airport.” After a short kneading stroke of her upper arms, my hands fell to my side with the weight I felt baring on my shoulders, the weight of disappointment. My coffee was retrieved from the unit on my right before I turned and headed to the living room.

“What about breakfast?” Liam called when I was halfway down the hall.

Feeling deflated, I simply retorted, “I’ve lost my appetite.”

By the time I dropped myself into the cushion of the leather couch, feeling the cold, protesting material seeping through my beige Capri-pants, Liam was already storming through the glass and oak door with a plate in his
one hand and silverware wrapped in a napkin in the other. Finishing adjusting a coaster and setting my coffee on the table ahead of me, I peeked up.

Liam stood
like a God. No, scrap that, he loomed over me like The Devil compelling you to give into temptation. Unfortunately, the temptation which I was seeking was opposing the one which I sensed.

“You will eat, Kady,” he commanded. His eyes reflected the rise of the sunlight from the window behind me before turning hard and obdurate. His freshly shaven block jaw was taut, and the
spikes from the spider’s web tattoo on the left of his neck were throbbing and strained.

“Liam, please, I am not hungry. I don’t feel like I––”

“I allowed you to sleep in, Kady. I didn’t wake you to help clear the mess which was left here after the party. I wanted to surprise you. Are you really going to be that ungrateful?”

I was con
templating an excuse worthy of The Devil aside me, when Brittany craned her head around the door and informed us that she was nipping to the store to pick up some milk and her weekly glossy magazine. For a brief moment, I felt a surge of guilt at the unnerved knot in my gut at the mere notion that she was going to be leaving me here alone with the affronted, raging bull, whereas I should have been worried about my ill sister going to the store on her own.

Once the door was shut securely behind her, Liam kneeled down
at my side. The squared red plate was set on the table to join my coffee. He proffered me the cutlery after slipping it from the paper napkin. “Eat.”

A full fried breakfast
waited before me. So much fried food, I was sure my cholesterol was going to have a fit. “What’s that?” I asked cautiously and pointed to the black lump in the middle of the plate.

“Blood sausage.”

At the mention of blood, my head lifted straight to the man on his knees at the coffee table. “Blood?” Repulsed, my lips curled. There was no way in Hell I going to eat that. I didn’t want to eat anything on that plate, but I would have if it meant I could’ve had the black stuff removed from it––the black stuff and the mushrooms.

I was silently marveling at the
extremes Liam had gone to with cooking breakfast, but my appreciation retreated as I considered the mere fact that, we had been together for nearly three years, he knew full well that I wasn’t a huge eater, especially of fried food. He knew damn well I despised mushrooms and would never touch anything like blood sausage. Why would he go through all of this effort to do something nice, when he was aware that I wouldn’t eat half the contents on it?

“Liam…I–I…
” I faltered.

As I s
moothed the napkin over my thighs, his eyes combed my torso to meet my gaze. Dark eyebrows rose in mute question. “Kady, you will eat this. I am going to stay right here, just to make damn fucking sure.” When he offered the cool silverware to me again, I hesitantly took it from his possession. “Do you understand?”

Nodding, I began to work my way through the parts I didn’t mind eating, like the bacon
, sausage and eggs, and steered clear of anything that was touching the parts which I detested.

“Eat the mushrooms,” he
charged with a voice not to be dared with.

I swallowed my mouthful,
shook my head faintly and apologetic. “I can’t.”

What would I prefer to eat
? I questioned myself after the stern words which passed Liam’s lips were repeated again. Would I favor the dark, slick shapes which looked somewhat like slimy bugs, and used to have nightmares about as they slipped back up from my throat? Or would I prefer the seasoned blood in a sausage casing? There was no comparison. I could force myself to eat the three handfuls of mushrooms, if it meant I could leave the additional, disgusting thing which was goading me on the red surface and making my stomach pole-vault to my throat.

The fork dove into the mass, scooping and raising it to my mouth as hasty as possible. Screwing my eyes shut until dancing, colored spots swept across my lids, I held my breath and che
wed like there was no tomorrow.

Ignore the sensation, Kady. Ignore the sensation…
I repeated my mantra while striving to disregard the slug-like texture on my tongue.

With each swallow my throat was becoming less and less compliant. Halting my reflex to pass
it down my gullet, the food was left loitering in my mouth while my shoulders hunched, my ribs ached from heaving and my eyes watered.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, I got through the pile of food I
’d always averted, set the fork on the plate and concentrated on not having the food making a return.

“You haven’t finished.”

Gaping at an insulted looking Liam, he fisted his hands back through his slicked-back, brown hair as I drew in a deep breath. “Liam, I don’t like mushrooms, but I forced myself to eat them. Please, I really can’t bring myself to eat that,” I gestured to what looked like a clump of coal in the center of the red square.

“Kady,” his mouth curled almost unhinged.
An intimidated step was taken towards me while on his knees. “If you were to go to the emergency room to have blood taken and then later fainted, what would the first thought in your head be if you were to have blood taken again?” he spoke in a soft, appeasing tone.

I knitted my fingers together
in my lap, feeling as though I was about to get graded on my answer. “Th–that I was going to faint,” I faltered once again.