Eyes Ever to the Sky (A Sci Fi Romance) (The Sky Trilogy) (13 page)

“Why don’t you do me a favor and go fetch her?” He sat back on a picnic table and splayed his arms across the tabletop. His cellphone pinged in his pocket and he drew it out. The blue light on his face made his eyes look sunken.

He looked up and his face darkened, noticing her still standing there. “You slow or something?”  He knocked his knuckles on his head. “Anybody home?”

Cece couldn’t move. Heat rose up her neck. She remembered Gage now. It’d been a long time since he’d smeared chocolate on her desk in 4th grade and told everyone her family was so poor they ate dog shit for dinner. She remembered the hot tears dribbling down her face as the class snickered.

Sticks and stones, mi amor. Stick and stones.

She looked down at Gage. His smug smile still hung at the corners of his mouth. “Find her yourself,” she said.

Gage dropped his jaw, his eyes suddenly finding her. “What’d you say?”

Cece gripped the trash bag tighter and thrust out her chin. “I
said
find her yourself.”

Gage stood up, flashing a smile that never reached his eyes. “I see.” His eyes traced up her body. “You’re being sassy with me. Trying to catch my attention. Well, you've got it.” He strode from the picnic table in three quick steps. He stopped close enough for Cece to catch a whiff of his cologne. His eyes flashed as he watched her reaction. His gaze ran up and down her body and she shivered. She could see his sharp canine teeth as a nasty smile slinked up his face.

“Get away from me.” She took a step back and bumped into a picnic table. She looked around the empty parking lot toward the brightly lit windows of the ice cream shop. No one in sight. Where was Travis? If she screamed would he hear her?

Gage stepped closer, inches away. “Make me.” He pressed into her, his legs straddling hers. His hands gripped the picnic table behind her. She leaned away until the table pressed into her back. She was pinned. Her insides went cold. She stared into his eyes: blue like glacial ice. The smell of his cologne made her gag. She could knee him in the groin and run…

“Get away from her.”

Both heads turned. Tall and broad-shouldered in his pink Lizzy’s t-shirt and spandex running shorts, Hugh stood at the edge of the parking lot. His fists were clenched at his sides, veins on his arms popping. And his eyes were locked on Gage.

Gage took a step back. “You work here, asshole? Or do you just like pink?” He flashed his teeth again, but Cece could see the fight draining out of him. Hugh was a foot taller and had a good fifty pounds on Gage. Gage’s eyes flicked between Hugh and his car, parked across the lot.

Hugh took a step forward. “You’re still too close to her.” His voice was deep, solid and music to her ears.

“What’re those, women’s panties?” Gage snorted, nodding to Hugh’s shorts. He stepped backwards toward his car, the keys white-knuckled in his hand.

Hugh closed the gap and positioned himself in front of Cece. His flexed muscles filled every inch of his pink t-shirt. He made Gage look like an underfed twelve-year-old.

“Go while you’re still able.”

Gage looked between Hugh and Cece. “Tell Michelle she can get her own f—ing ride.” He glared at Hugh. For a moment it looked like he would speak, but instead he turned and stomped to his car. The engine flared and he peeled out, the boom of his speakers thudding into the twilight.

Hugh turned to Cece, his stiff, corded arms pulsing with anger. “Did he hurt you?” His eyes traced her for injury.

She shook her head. “Just my ego.” She tried to laugh, but it was hollow. “Thanks.” She looked up into his brown eyes. “You got here just in time.”

“I was watching over there.” He nodded toward the alley across the street. As if realizing his mistake, he shook his head. “I was watching because I didn’t trust that guy. He looked…” Hugh paused and eyed Gage's tail lights. “He looked like trouble.”

“
He is.” Cece wrapped her arms around herself. Then, suddenly conscious they were standing on the street in plain view, she waved Hugh toward the back. “Come on,” she said. “Follow me.”

They stepped around the building and stopped next to the dumpster. The smell of day-old food festering in the hot sun was overwhelming. It would cling to her long after she slung the bag into the dumpster. Maybe garbage duty wasn’t such a hot idea.

She threw the bag over the lip of the dumpster and rubbed her hands on her shorts. Hugh watched her every move as if she might break apart. “I’m okay,” she said. “Relax.” She put her hand on his arm. He was as hot as asphalt pavement on a ninety degree day. She flicked her eyes to his face. “Are
you
okay?” 

He nodded. “Who was that boy?” A vein on his neck throbbed.

“Just some idiot. Never mind.” She looked him over. “Have you eaten?”

He nodded.

She put a hand on her hip. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

His face softened. “Okay, no, I haven't eaten.”

“See, I knew it.” She blew out her breath and looked back toward Lizzy’s. “I gotta finish up. Will you wait?”

He nodded again.

Cece smiled. “Don’t say much, do you?”

He shrugged, lifting his big shoulders. “I don’t have many people to talk to.”

Her heart melted. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She ran in and found Michelle and Travis in the pantry. In the narrow closet, Travis slid the cylinders of canned fruit topping onto the shelves. Michelle hovered right behind him, looking with rapt attention as he started unloading cans of hot fudge. Cece watched as Michelle leaned forward, her boobs in Travis’ face.

“Travis,” Cece said. Michelle jumped back and shot Cece a dirty look.

Travis’ face brightened. “What up, C? How’d trash duty go?” He tossed hair out of his eyes.

“Fine. Hey, are we done? I gotta go. I mean, if that’s okay.”

Travis’ face fell. “Yeah, hey listen, Michelle and I were thinking ‘bout catching a flick. You down?”

Another glare from Michelle. Apparently she wasn’t interested in making it a threesome. Cece shook her head. “I gotta go. Michelle, when I was out there Gage stopped by. He said you needed to find your own ride home.”

Michelle frowned and dug her phone out of her back pocket. “Shit! I gotta go.” She started tapping on the keypad. “Gage is pissed. Shit!” Michelle pushed past Cece.

“Do you need me to stay?” Cece asked, her eyes flicking to the back door. Did Michelle see Hugh? Would he run?

Travis waved a dismissive hand. “Naw. I got this. Go ahead and do whatcha gotta do.”

“Thanks, Travis!” She gave him a big smile. Then she spun and trotted out the back door.

Hugh waited for her in the alley. She walked up to him, the dark pressing around them, making her skin tingle. “I need to get my bike. Then we can go back to my place and I’ll get you some supper. Okay?”

He nodded again. Then he cleared his throat as if his voice was rusty. “That would be nice.”

She pushed her bike and he walked steadily beside her. Overhead the storm clouds thickened, plunging the world into early darkness. The air hung heavy and damp. A distant rumble and a flash of lightening crackled across the horizon. They passed a liquor store, wafting the delicious smell of pizza. Hugh's head turned. Cece really hoped Mama had food in the fridge.

Mama. What if she got home and Mama was there? Well, that was what she wanted, right? Then she could stop worrying she was dead in a ditch somewhere. But, this wasn’t the first time Mama took off when she was manic and stayed away for two, three, even four days without calling.

But, if Mama were gone, they’d have the house all to themselves. Cece felt awful for even thinking it, but she let her eyes stray to Hugh, quietly walking next to her. He towered at least a foot over her, his muscled arms swinging in time with his footfalls. The two days of beard growth on his cheeks and chin only added to the rugged handsomeness of his face. She
wanted
to be alone in a house with Hugh. What hot-blooded teenage girl wouldn’t? He was the kind of hot you found in magazine ads for Gucci or Hugo Boss. Then again, girls who let random boys into their bedrooms when their parents weren’t home ended up on
Dateline
with actors portraying their last hours alive. Plus, there was the hording. He couldn’t see that.

They rounded into her trailer park as the first raindrops began to splat on the warm pavement. Ms. K’s dog barked as they passed, but he didn’t charge to the end of his chain. He gave a few tired growls and tucked himself under the stoop. The trailer park was quiet as the rain began to fall. Some seventies rock ballad floated from a few trailers down. They slipped past a rusty Dodge with a mismatched door, the rain pinging steadily off the roof. Cece wondered what Hugh thought of her neighborhood. It had to be better than a dumpster, but still… She glanced at him, the heat rising in her cheeks. If he cared, he showed no sign.

When they pulled up to her home, her heart pattered hard. She pulled her bike into the stuffed carport filled and pointed inside to a green, fraying lawn chair. “Can you wait here? I gotta check something.”

She wondered if he could hear her over the deafening rumble of the rain pounding on the metal carport roof, but he nodded. He sat in the lawn chair, gripping the rusting metal arm rests, and smiled.   

She ran up the steps and plowed into her front door.

Cece stood on the welcome mat, dripping. No sounds from inside. The trailer looked untouched from when she’d left this morning.

“Mama!” She listened. “Mama, you here?”

Nothing.

An awful, selfish part of her was happy Mama was gone. She was a terrible daughter. She would rot in hell. But, what could she do with no car in a torrential downpour? And Mama had always come home unscathed before.

She turned to step outside, but stopped with her hand on the screen door. Should she invite him in? She scanned the cluttered living room. A rancid smell wafted from the kitchen trash. Something that looked like old pizza lay on the carpet next to the couch. Could she really bring him in here? Then there was the whole inviting-a-strange-boy-into-her-home thing. And the fact that Mama could come home any minute and find her alone. And with a boy.

She peered out the screen, rain splashing into her face. Hugh sat, drenched to the core, blinking water out of his eyes with long dark lashes, the shirt she gave him clinging helplessly to his chest. She stared at his abs and sucked in a hot breath. No, she had to think! Above, lightening split the sky and a rumble of thunder cracked overhead loud enough to make them both jump. Hugh ran both hands over his arms and shivered.

All her reservations flew out of her head. She pushed the screen open and leaned out. Rain pelted her face as she shouted, “Come on.”

He ran up and stepped into her house.

CHAPTER
NINETEEN — HUGH

Wednesday 9:08 p.m.

They stood inside the foyer, water dripping on the fraying rug. The smell of her strawberry shampoo, brought out by the rain, filled his nose. Her dark brown hair hung limp to her face in wet coils as she blinked up at him. Her cheeks blazed pink from the walk and perhaps from the fact that he was standing two feet away? He hoped so. Oh yes, he did indeed.

“
So,” she said, gesturing around the trailer, “this is my place.”

He took a sweep of the trailer with his eyes. Every square inch of carpet was covered by saggy cardboard boxes, mismatched shoes, purses. A trail of papers littered the walkway between the foyer and the kitchen. Around the couch lay cigarette boxes, ashtrays, old magazines, TV dinner trays. It was messy incarnate. He looked back at her.

Cece gnawed nervously at her lip; her hands twisted together at her waist. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, just looked around her home. “My mom, she’s a little…okay
a lot
messy. If you’ll give me a minute to tidy up…” She spun, grabbed trash from the floor and shoved it in an overflowing garbage can. Then she ran over and began stacking food-encrusted plates together. He walked up and put his hand on her arm. Her skin was warm and supple. God, he loved touching her.

“
It’s okay,” he said. “Leave it. Yesterday I was eating in a dumpster.”

She met his eyes, setting the plates back on the end table. “I don’t care that you had to eat out of a dumpster.”

He nodded. “I don’t care that your trailer’s a mess.”

She smiled. “Good. Cause it’d take all week to get it clean.”

He chuckled. “No kidding.”

He watched the unease fall from her face. Her eyes locked on him. They traveled down to his chest, her cheeks flushed and then she quickly darted her eyes away.

“So, what’s first?” she asked. “Food or shower?”

He lifted his hands and peered at the black crescents under his fingernails. “Shower.”

She nodded, pulling her wet hair over her shoulder and twirling it. “This way.”

She led him down the cluttered hallway into the little bathroom. The florescent light buzzed to life and she pointed him to the tub shower. He stepped in the bathroom, the curling linoleum crinkling under his feet. She returned with a clean, if rust-stained, bath towel and washcloth. Before she pulled the door shut, she stopped and fixed him with a worried look. “If my mother comes home, you need to hide and duck out my bedroom window when it's safe.”