Trembling
Authors: V J Chambers
Trembling
Part One
"O! Beware, my lord, of jealousy,
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on."
-William Shakespeare,
Othello
Chapter One
michaela666 (01:34:22): Is it done?
aird92 (01:35:01): yep. success. it's all good.
michaela666 (1:35:24): And it went well? No snags? No interference from Jason?
aird92 (01:36:12): dude's damned clueless, r u kidding? went perfect.
michaela666 (01:36:54): You're sure? They shouldn't be underestimated, you
know. The two of them together are quite powerful.
aird92 (01:37:17): i know this, ok? stop worrying. everything's fine.
My brain felt like it had exploded while I was
sleeping and the pieces of brain matter were straining against my temples,
trying to get out. My head hurt.
I squeezed my eyes shut against the bright
window. Damn it, but my head hurt. Really, really bad.
Tentatively, I opened one eye. The room was blazingly bright. I closed my eye
again. Maybe it was better to keep my eyes closed.
Wait.
I opened my eyes again.
Where was I?
Jason's room? Jason's bed? Why was I in Jason's bed?
How had I gotten here?
Damn it. I didn't remember going to sleep. I must have been really drunk when I
went to sleep. Blackout drunk. I didn't think I'd ever been blackout drunk
before. What
did
I
remember from the night before?
A loud voice sliced into my temple. "I don't how many times I've told you
that you two are not supposed to sleep in the same bed!"
That was why I had woken up. Hallam was yelling at Jason. Ugh. I pulled a
pillow over my head, but I could still hear them.
"Jesus, Hallam, I carried her to her own bed, but she crawled in here with
me," Jason was saying. "I couldn't get her to go back. Nothing
happened. She was way too drunk."
I was? I didn't remember any of that at all.
Jason was my boyfriend. He and I lived with Hallam, who was our legal guardian.
Hallam was pretty cool most of the time. He didn't have any problem with my
going out and getting wasted or coming home at four in the morning. But he was
insistent that Jason and I did not sleep in the same bed. He said he didn't
want us to conceive our firstborn on his watch. But that was silly, because
when Jason and I actually did get to have sex (which was rarely), we were careful.
Really, Hallam was just a prude, and that was all there was to it.
"I don't want to hear excuses, Jason," Hallam said. "You two
know the rules. You both agreed to them."
It was amazing how, in just a few short months, Hallam had begun to sound
remarkably like a parent. He was only twenty-two, just five years older than
Jason and me. But he sounded fifty.
"You're blatantly disobeying," Hallam went on.
"What was I supposed to do?" Jason demanded. "She could barely
stand, she was so wasted."
Really? That wasn't good. Okay, okay. What had I done last night?
Um, I'd gone to a party on the beach with Jude and some of the other guys from
work. I worked at a movie theater here in
been drinking a lot of shots. I'd been talking to some guys around a bonfire.
For a long time. And then . . . I'd lost Jude. I couldn't find him anywhere.
And I was so drunk. . . So . . . I called Jason, because I couldn't find Jude,
and I was freaked out. Being alone like that. And drunk. And then . . .
And then,
nothing
.
God.
That was terrifying.
"She's been drunk a lot lately, hasn't she?" asked Hallam.
"She's seventeen," Jason said. "It's what young people do!"
Jason was seventeen too, but when he said that, it sounded like he was so much
older than me. In some ways, maybe Jason was. He'd been through a lot in his
young life. Jason had spent his childhood on the run from men with guns, who
were trying to kill him. He'd held his mentor Anton in his arms while Anton
bled to death. Jason had shot five men in the head point blank to save me from
getting killed. It made sense that Jason would seem older than me.
But.
"You're seventeen too," Hallam pointed out. "You're not getting
fall-down drunk."
Why was Jason so much more responsible than I was? After all, while it was true
that Jason had been through a lot, the last six months of my life had been no
picnic either. I'd found out that my entire town was controlled by a Satanist
coven who wanted me to kill Jason. Then I'd seen my parents and my aunt all
shot dead in front of me. Yeah. Things weren't easy for me either. Most days, I
felt older than seventeen.
"Well, someone's got to stay sober," Jason muttered.
Great. He didn't sound happy. But I guess I couldn't blame him. It didn't sound
like I'd been much fun last night. I really shouldn't have gotten so drunk.
"Just keep her out of your bed," said Hallam. "I don't care how
drunk she is."
I heard the door to Jason's bedroom slam as Hallam stormed out.
Sheepishly, I pulled the pillow off my head and looked at Jason.
"Hey," I said.
"Good morning," said Jason, but he didn't sound at all happy about
it.
Jason was probably one of the most beautiful human beings I'd ever seen. He had
dusky skin, perfect and unmarred, huge dark eyes, and a shock of dark hair that
tended to fall into his eyes. Looking at him, no matter where I was or what I
was doing, nearly always took my breath away, made me tremble inside.
"I'm sorry?" I said. I hoped he wasn't going to be too mad.
Jason sighed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, next to me. "What are
you sorry about?"
"Sorry I got so drunk," I said.
Jason shook his head. "It's not your fault," he said. He reached for
me. Stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. "It's Jude's fault."
"Jude?" I asked. For some reason, Jason did not like Jude very much.
"He got you all messed up and then he just abandoned you," said
Jason.
It was true that Jude had disappeared last night. But I wanted Jason to like
Jude. Jude was probably my best friend. "We were at a party," I said.
"I'm sure he just got . . . distracted."
"Don't defend him," said Jason.
"He's my friend." I had to defend him. If I didn't, Jason would never
start liking him. Ever.
Jason rolled his eyes. "I don't know why you spend so much time with that
jerk, anyway."
"He's fun!" I said.
"Right," said Jason. He looked down at his hands. "Unlike me,
right?"
"Jason!" I rolled over in bed, frustrated. My head pounded angrily at
the sudden movement. "There is no reason to compare the two of you. You're
Jason. He's Jude. You're both fun, just in different ways."
"I just feel like I never see you anymore. You're always hanging out with
him. You're never hanging out with me."
"You sound jealous."
Jason shrugged.
"Jesus, he's gay!" I exclaimed. "He's like a girl."
"Except he's not a girl," said Jason.
"Oh my God," I muttered. I sat up in bed, carefully this time, so as
not to upset my throbbing head. I crawled over to Jason. Hugged him from
behind. "Don't be jealous of Jude," I murmured, kissing Jason's neck.
"You shouldn't be jealous of anyone, ever. No one could ever be to me what
you are. You're . . . Jason."
Jason turned his head and his lips met mine. "I know that," he
whispered in a husky voice. It always made me swoon. It was the voice meant
only for
me
. He didn't talk to anyone else in
that voice.
I caressed his face. Ran my finger over the line of his jaw. He winced.
I leaned forward. "Are you hurt?"
"It's nothing," Jason said, standing up.
I flopped back on the bed. "What did you do?" I demanded. "Did
you get in another fight?"
"I . . ." Jason trailed off.
"Jason!"
"I'm sorry," he said. "But you should have heard this guy. He
had it coming. That bastard."
"What happened?" I asked.
"I couldn't find you when I got to the party," said Jason. "But
I found that jerk, Jude, and he said he put you in a tent. And you were
fine." Jason glowered into space.
"A tent?" I had no memory of being in a tent.
"Yeah," said Jason. "That dickwad just dumped you there and ran
off."
"At least he put me in a tent," I said. Wow. How drunk had I been? A
thought suddenly occurred to me. "Oh God. You didn't beat up Jude, did
you?"
Jason shook his head. "No."
"Good," I said. Because if my boyfriend had beaten up my best friend,
it probably would have meant I didn't have a best friend anymore. And the
thought of Jason punching skinny, prissy Jude was almost too much to handle. He
would have
destroyed
Jude.
"Jude never could have gotten a punch on me," said Jason.
Of course not. I snorted.
"So I found the tent, and this guy was standing outside. I looked inside.
You were in there, passed out. And you were only wearing your bikini."
"What?!" I demanded. I had gone to that party
clothed
,
dammit. "Where were my clothes?"
"In the tent," said Jason.
So how did they get off? I didn't ask that question out loud. Concerned, I
wiggled my pelvis. It felt . . . fine. "What happened?" I repeated.
Jason didn't look at me. "The guy outside the tent said that he wouldn't
say anything if I . . ." Jason trailed off. He whipped his head around and
looked straight in my eyes. "He said to save him seconds."
I covered my mouth with my hand. "Oh my God."
"Yeah," said Jason. "And Jude just left you there. With people
like that around."
"So you beat up the guy outside the tent?"
"I did. I wasn't going to, because it wasn't like he did anything. I just
told him to shut up, because you were my girlfriend. And he said, 'Your
girlfriend looks like a drunken slut.' That's when I beat him up."
"Oh," I said. I was quiet. "How bad?" I finally asked.
Jason shrugged. "I don't know."
"Did they have to call an ambulance again?" I asked.
"I don't know. I took you and left."
I didn't say anything.
"He was bleeding a lot, I guess," said Jason. "Maybe I broke his
nose. I don't know."
"Oh God, you shouldn't have done that."
"Can you blame me? He was clearly a total bastard."
"I just don't think it's a good idea for you to do things that might
attract attention to us," I said.
Jason sat back down on the bed. "Azazel, we're safe," he said.
"I know," I said. "But I don't trust the Sons. And I just feel
like every time you do something like that, it sends out a beacon to them
screaming, 'Here we are!'"
"They probably know where we are, anyway," said Jason. "They're
a huge, powerful organization. I'm sure they haven't just forgotten about
me."
"Maybe they did," I said. "Maybe they did." I wished I
could believe that. I wished I wasn't worried nearly every second of every day
that the Sons of the Rising Sun were going to burst into our house, guns
blazing, kill me, and take Jason. We were blackmailing them with information we
had, and so far it seemed to be working. But every day, I worried that it
wouldn't work anymore. They'd find some way around our deal. They'd come for
us.
Jason lay down next me on the bed. He gathered me in his arms. I buried my head
in his chest.
"We're safe," he whispered into my hair. "I swear we're safe. I
swear I'll keep you safe."
And I wanted to believe him. I did.
"All I want to do is keep you safe," he said. "You know that,
right?"
I lifted my head to look at him. He was so heartbreakingly beautiful. "I
know."
"That's why I hit that guy," said Jason. "When it comes to you,
Azazel, I just . . . I can't think straight. If anyone ever hurt you, I'd go
absolutely insane. You're so important to me."
I kissed him. "I love you," I said.
"I love you," he said.
We kissed again, Jason's hands stroking my back. I moaned softly.
And Hallam stormed into the bedroom. "Out!" he thundered.
"Azazel, get out of this bed!"
I got out of the bed, folding my arms over my chest and glaring at Hallam.
"We were just kissing," I said.
"Sure," said Hallam. "It's all just kissing until someone gets
pregnant."
I rolled my eyes. But I went to my own room anyway.
I needed to find some
ibuprofen.
* * *
It was nearly eleven-thirty, and I had to be at work
at noon. I worked at the Regal Cinemas on Cortez, a ten-minute drive from our
apartment if the traffic wasn't bad. Which it always was. Jude said that in the
summer, there was no traffic in
people who lived there full time. Snowbirds were rich, old people who came to
winter to escape the snow up north. Since Jason, Hallam, and I had only lived
in
witnessed a summer in
Virginia
people, it was a relatively small place. It was located about forty-five
minutes south of
of
was a little cheaper than what you'd pay in
which was why we'd decided to live in
At the time, I wasn't in touch with my grandmother, who was insanely rich and
lived in
have enough money to live in
When we first moved to
we didn't really have much money. Hallam had a little bit of cash which he'd
squirreled away. Jason and I had a fraudulent credit card. We were barely able
to get enough money to move into a three-bedroom apartment. We got jobs as
quickly as we could. Hallam insisted that both Jason and I finish high school,
so we had to get jobs that wouldn't interfere with our studies. I started
working at the movie theater, and Jason got a job waiting tables. Hallam, who
was highly educated and British, somehow managed to swindle himself into a job
as a professor at
Both Hallam and I still had our original jobs. Jason, however, had been fired
four times. He kept getting in fights. Currently, he had a job working at
another restaurant, but he was in the kitchen, so he didn't have to deal with
the public.
We had a very hard time at first, because we didn't have a car, so we had to
rely on buses and on favors from co-workers. Sometimes it worked out, sometimes
it didn't. Finally, Jason suggested that I should get in touch with my
grandmother. She was my only living relative, besides my three adopted
brothers.
I didn't want to contact Grandma Hoyt at first. I was worried that the Sons
could use her to get to me, or that she might be in danger. After all, it was
the Sons who had shot my parents. They didn't seem to have qualms about killing
whoever got in their way. Jason and Hallam were sure that the Sons were out of
the picture, so eventually I did.
Grandma Hoyt bought me a car, and started sending me a pretty decent allowance
every month. It helped make our situation more comfortable, but I still worked,
because I liked having the extra cash. Besides, with Jason working as well, if
I stayed home, I'd be alone most of the time. I really didn't like being alone
anymore. I got really freaked out when I was by myself in our apartment. I
didn't know if I was really worried about the Sons busting in and shooting me
or not. But I did know that I got very, very frightened, and I couldn't handle
it.
So I worked. That afternoon, I was so hung over and miserable that I really
wished that I didn't. But I dragged myself into the shower, got dressed, ate
something, and went to work. The night before, I'd left directly from work and
gone to the party, and I'd accidentally left my uniform in the staff workroom.
When I arrived, Jude was waiting for me, holding my uniform.
"Girl!" he exclaimed. "I cannot believe you are standing!"
"Oh my God, Jude! How drunk did I get last night?"
Jude shook his head in awe. "You were wasted," he said. He handed me
my uniform. "Better get changed. We've got to start slinging popcorn in
two minutes."
"Ugh," I muttered, taking the uniform from him.
Jude was tall and very skinny. He was a quarter Cherokee, so he had dusky skin
and dark eyes. (Like Jason, in fact, who was also a quarter Native American,
but Muscogee.) Jude liked to wear heavy eyeliner, but at work, it was against
the dress code, so Jude only wore a little bit. He also had three holes in each
of his ears, plus a nose piercing. He had to take out all his piercings for
work too. The theater couldn't do much about his hair, however, which he dyed
various unnatural shades. Currently, his hair was electric blue. Last week,
however, it had been bright orange. I'd seen it green, purple, and fire-engine
red. Jude also made it a point to paint his nails. At the moment, they were
purple and sparkly.
"Come into the bathroom with me while I change," I said. "I want
to know everything about what happened last night."
"While you change?" Jude said.
"Yeah," I said. I took him by the arm and pulled him into the staff
bathroom with me.
The staff bathroom didn't have stalls. It just had one toilet and a sink. It
was for either men or women. Once inside, I locked the door, and pulled my
shirt over my head.
"So where did you go?" I asked, folding my shirt and searching for my
uniform polo.
Jude wasn't looking at me. He was staring at the floor, like he was
embarrassed.
"I'm sorry," I said. "Does it make you uncomfortable that I'm
taking off my clothes? I just thought . . ."
Jude looked at me, grinning. "No, girl, you're fine," he said.
"Okay," I said.
Jude took a deep breath. "I wouldn't have left you if I thought you were
so drunk," he said.
"I didn't mean to get that drunk," I said.
"You weren't when I left," he said.
"Left?"
"I didn't leave the party," Jude said. "I just started chasing
this yummy boy with long blonde hair."
I unbuttoned my jeans and wriggled out of them. "And?"
"Oh, he turned out to be straight."
"Sorry."
Jude shrugged. "Whatev." He glanced at me and then looked away. I
was
making him uncomfortable. I needed to
try to remember that being gay did not make Jude a girl. Maybe I was being
rude. "So, what do you remember?"
"Not much. I remember looking for you, not being able to find you, and
calling Jason."
"Oh yeah," said Jude, "your boyfriend's intense, isn't he?"
Intense? That was one way to put it. "How do you mean?"
"He hospitalized that guy. I've never seen anyone fight like that. He was
like a machine."
Damn it. Why was Jason always getting in fights? "He had to go to
hospital, huh?"
"Yeah. Broken ribs."
Ribs? "Dammit," I said, shaking my head. I thrust my leg into my
uniform khakis. Jason had to stop this.
"You remember the fight?" Jude asked.
"No. Jason told me about it."
Jude nodded. "You don't remember anything, then?"
I shook my head. "Not really."
"Is that weird?" he asked. "I've never blacked out before."
"Neither have I," I said. I remembered drinking, but I really didn't
think I'd had
that
much
to drink. The whole thing was weird. I buttoned my khakis thoughtfully.
"Jason said something about that guy outside the tent. Like he said
something about me."
Jude raised his eyebrows. "What did he say?"
I was probably being paranoid. "Jude, you don't think I was like roofied
or something, do you?"
Now that I was fully dressed, Jude was looking right at me. "Why would you
think that?"
"Jason said that when he found me I was only wearing my bikini. And the
guy told him to save him seconds."
Jude made a horrified face. "Eew."
"Yeah."
"Well, are you okay? I mean, do you think . . .?"
"Oh, no. I'm fine. I mean, I don't think
that
happened.
But maybe someone was trying?"
Jude crossed to me and hugged me tightly. "Omigod," he said. "I
am so sorry. I will never leave you alone at a party again."
Work would have been torturous without Jude. He kept me laughing, whispering
jokes about what the customers were wearing or saying when no one was looking.
I really liked Jude. He was one of my favorite things about living in
wanted to live someplace like this. Someplace warm. Near a beach. And being
able to be close to Jason was a definite plus. Jason was my soul mate. Nothing
could be too bad whenever he was around. But in all honesty, my life was far
from perfect anymore.
Six months ago, my biggest problem had been that I thought I was the oldest
virgin on earth. I wasn't a virgin anymore, but sometimes, I almost wished I
could go back to my life before. Then, my parents were alive, and I loved them.
I lived in a busy, crowded home full of teenage foster boys, but I didn't
realize how great it was to feel loved like that. I didn't realize how great it
was to trust people implicitly. Now, I didn't trust anyone. I had nightmares a
lot. I dreamed about my parents getting shot. I'd see it over and over again,
in slow motion. The surprised look on their faces. The blood. The way their
bodies had crumpled. In the worst dreams, the ones that always made me sit up
straight in bed, screaming, I'd see Jason's face when he was shooting the
members of the Sons who'd killed my parents. He looked determined and
dangerous. Frenzied. Angry.
After that nightmare, Jason would rush into my room, and he'd be so sweet and
comforting that I'd wonder how I could ever feel frightened of him. He was
perfect. He was wonderful. He was mine. He wasn't scary.
But other times, when the dream didn't go that far, I wouldn't wake up without
screaming, just seeing the image of my dead parents engraved on the back of my
eyelids. And I'd think about other things. I'd think about Michaela Weem,
Jason's crazy mother, who had screamed at me that together Jason and I would
destroy things. She had told me that Jason was destined for violence on a grand
scale. She had wanted me to kill Jason. Michaela Weem had believed that Jason
was too dangerous to live. And she'd been able to convince a lot of people that
she was right. I tried to tell myself she wasn't. I loved Jason more than life.
I would die for him. I would kill for him. He was all that I had.
But Michaela had been right about one thing. Once. She'd told us that together
Jason and I would "drive men mad." And we had. When we kissed, a
whole group of the Sons had stopped shooting and completely lost their minds.
If she'd been right about that, maybe she was right about . . . But no. No.
Jason was not going to enslave the world. I didn't think that. I
refused
to think that.
Between freaking out about the Sons trying to kill me, reliving the trauma of
my murdered parents, and worrying that my boyfriend was actually the
anti-christ (instead of the messiah, which was what the Sons thought), my life
was not exactly a cakewalk. I longed for the days when I worried about my
history exam or whether girls at school were gossiping about me. All of that
just seemed ridiculous and childish now. Sometimes, I felt very old. Jude was
right. Jason was intense. Ever since he'd appeared in my life, everything had
been intense.
That was why I liked Jude so much. He made me feel normal, like a regular
teenage girl again. One who thought about parties and boys and make-up. I used
to think that kind of stuff was shallow, but now I wished like hell it was all
I thought about. I missed it. I felt like my innocence had been stolen or
something.
Thanks to Jude, the six hours of my shift went by pretty quickly. Afterwards,
we sat outside of the theater, drinking huge sodas (one of the perks of working
at movie theater). I was waiting for Jason to pick me up. We only had one car,
and I hadn't wanted to monopolize it. Jude was just hanging out with me.
"You wanna go to that party at Rachel Kline's next weekend?" he
asked.
"God," I said. "I'm not sure if I ever want to drink
again."
Jude laughed. "I've heard that before."
"Hey!" I said. "I don't drink that much."
"You can hold your own, girl," said Jude, with a touch of admiration.
I rolled my eyes. "I just like to have fun. Is that so wrong?"
"You are fun," said Jude. "That's why I like you so much."
I'd always been such a goody-goody back in
able to make my own decisions. Hallam thought I was a teenage alcoholic, but
then, Hallam didn't have a very high opinion of me. I was over-sexed. I drank
too much. I didn't study enough. He was like the father I never wanted.
Sometimes, I thought about packing up and moving to
had custody of my younger brother, Chance. But I didn't really think that Jason
would be welcome, and there was no way I'd go anywhere without Jason. So I put
up with Hallam, because I had to.
"Well, Jude," I said, "you're kind of fun, yourself."
"Kind of?" he said. "I am a blast, and you love it."
I laughed. Jude
was
a
blast.
"So, party, then?" he asked.
"Maybe," I said. "I'll ask Jason if he wants to come. He might
have to work, though."
Jude raised his eyebrows.
"Jason can come, right?"
"Keep him on a leash. He can't beat anybody else up."
I sighed. "I can't believe he did that."