Authors: Radclyffe
“I want to check the cellar before we go upstairs,” Deo said. “I recommend you wait here.”
“To save us repeating this conversation, I’m buying this house and therefore I’m coming with you.”
Deo illuminated Nita’s face again. “Afraid of spiders?”
Even in the semi-darkness, Nita could make out the mischief in her eyes. She gave Deo a cold stare.
Deo grinned. “Guess not.” She reached for Nita’s hand once more, and after a second’s hesitation, Nita took it. “Stay close, okay? People leave the damnedest things lying around in these empty houses, and who knows what kind of critters might be living down there.”
“Charming,” Nita muttered, moving closer to Deo in the impenetrable darkness that enclosed her as soon as Deo moved her light away. As she followed, she couldn’t help but occasionally brush up against Deo’s back. Even if her nipples hadn’t tightened at the slightest touch of her breasts against Deo’s body, she wouldn’t have been able to deny how much she enjoyed the contact. Her blood was practically singing with excitement.
“I don’t think anyone’s been down here for a while,” Deo grunted as she tucked the flashlight under her arm and banged the slide bolt with the heel of her hand. It moved with a rusty groan. After pushing the door open and flooding the stairwell with her bright light, she announced, “All the stairs are here and look like they’re in reasonably good shape. Just let me test each one on the way down.”
“Maybe we should postpone this until tomorrow,” Nita said. “There’s no point in taking chances.”
Deo pivoted on the top stair, the movement bringing her face very close to Nita’s. “Is that what you really believe? Or are you just afraid that you might like it?”
Nita’s jaw tightened. “You’re in a dangerous position if your intention is to irritate me.” She rested her index fingertip lightly in the center of Deo’s chest. “It wouldn’t take much to knock you down these stairs on your ass.”
“I like you when you’re angry.” Deo let go of Nita’s hand and grasped her finger. She lifted it and delicately touched her tongue to the tip. When Nita snatched it away, she laughed. “I don’t mind taking risks.”
“One more move like that and this inspection is over,” Nita said, closing her fist until the tingling in her finger dissipated.
“All right,” Deo said softly. “I promise I won’t touch you again until you ask me to.”
“Then that will be never.”
“I do need to hold your hand on these stairs, though,” Deo amended and extended her hand.
Nita took it. “As long as you remember it’s just business.”
“Fair enough.”
“And as it happens, I’m
not
wild about spiders,” Nita remarked as she followed Deo downstairs. “Feel free to dispense with any webs that come our way.”
Laughing, Deo swept her arm over their heads as she walked. “Wait at the bottom of the stairs until I get a good look at what’s down here.”
Nita had the sense of a large room interrupted at intervals by thick floor-to-ceiling wooden posts. The bright circle of her light illuminated several rough wooden chests overlaid with inches of dust, a chifforobe, several broken chairs, and a rusty oil tank next to an ancient furnace. The floor was hard packed dirt. A faint shimmering illumination at the far end of the room marked Deo’s location.
“Anything of interest down there?” Nita called.
“Not much. Looks like someone tried to jack up the—
shit!
”
Nita jumped at the sound of a loud crash. At the same time, Deo’s light winked out and a cloud of dust rolled eerily toward her through the beam of light she directed at Deo’s location. Quickly, she covered her face and turned away. She felt grit coat the back of her neck and her exposed forearms, but she didn’t even consider rushing back upstairs. Something had happened to Deo, and nothing else mattered.
“Deo! Deo, are you hurt?”
At the sound of coughing, the fear squeezing Nita’s heart eased.
“Deo?”
“Broke my fucking light,” Deo grumbled from somewhere in the darkness.
“Just stand still and keep talking. I’m coming to get you.”
“No! There’s debris all over the floor.”
Ignoring her, Nita started forward, alternating between illuminating the ceiling above her and the floor in front of her. What looked like large chunks of lathe and plaster lay heaped about.
“What happened?” Nita called.
“Someone used a fence post for a strut and it was rotted through. A piece of the underflooring came down. Shine the light at the ceiling and stop walking. God damn it,” Deo snapped, “I’ll come to you.”
Since it made sense for Deo to walk out of darkness toward the light, rather than for her to keep pushing into darkness, Nita did as Deo requested. A minute later Deo, her dark hair and T-shirt white with dust, appeared within the circle of Nita’s light. Against the pale powder coating Deo’s face, the bright red trickle of blood that ran from her right temple down her cheek looked garish, as if it had been intentionally painted there.
“You’re hurt,” Nita said, and while her physician’s mind told her that the injury could not be serious considering that Deo was walking under her own steam and talking coherently, her stomach clenched with worry.
“A few scratches,” Deo said in disgust. “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to shake that damned strut. Fucking beginner’s mistake.”
“When I was in medical school,” Nita said quietly, “the lover of one of the residents was killed in an accident almost exactly like this.” Tentatively, she touched Deo’s cheek next to the thick red rivulet of blood. “Except in her case, a beam hit her in the back of the neck and killed her instantly.”
Deo raised her hand as if to take Nita’s, then let it fall. “Freak accidents happen. Most of the time you get a few bumps, a couple of scrapes, and you forget about it a minute later. I’m fine.”
“We’ll need to get that cleaned up and make sure you don’t need sutures.” Nita backed away, not wanting to think about the surge of panic she’d experienced when she thought Deo might have been seriously injured. It didn’t mean anything. She would have felt the same for anyone she was with.
“I want to finish going through the house.”
“Absolutely not,” Nita said with finality. “You’re already injured, plus you’re filthy. You need a shower and I need to look at your face.”
“I’m not going to get your house any dirtier than it already is, Nita.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You know what I’m talking about.”
“And we’re here now, and I just want a quick tour of the upper floors and a peek in the attic.” Deo turned Nita toward the stairs. “Besides, the weather is supposed to clear tomorrow and I want to take a look under the eaves while it’s raining. The situation down here isn’t enough to hold up the closing, but if you’ve got a leaking roof, you want to know about it now.”
With a sigh, Nita started climbing. “Ten more minutes.”
“Twenty and you’ve got a deal.”
Against her better judgment, Nita agreed. Happily, the rest of the house was sound, and they reached the narrow stairway leading up to the widow’s walk without further incident. The sound of rain drumming on the roof was so loud, Nita was forced to lean close to Deo or shout.
“It’s pouring out there. You can save that for another day.”
“No way,” Deo said. “That’s one of the best parts of this house. Besides, I need a shower. You can stay—”
“Let’s go then,” Nita grumped. Carefully, she negotiated the twisting stairs and waited on a small landing while Deo loosened yet another rusty latch and threw open the door that led out to the railed walkway that circled the highest portion of the roof. As she stepped out into the rainy night, she gasped.
“Oh my God,” Nita whispered. “It’s gorgeous.”
The town lay spread out below them, curving along the harbor. Sailboats and yachts rocked in the harbor, their running lights sending skittering shafts of gold across the inky surface. Despite the rain, a half moon peeked from behind the cloud cover and cast its pale timeless glow over the scene. For an instant, Nita imagined herself a woman searching the sea night after night, waiting in the dark for her lover to return.
Deo watched Nita take it all in, struck by the way her features softened and a sad smile played across her mouth. She was every bit as beautiful as the night.
“Glad you came up here?” Deo asked quietly.
Nita turned. “Oh yes. I think I’ll come up here every night.”
“I don’t blame you. I would too.”
“Turn your face up to the sky,” Nita said, her throat suddenly thick. Deo’s dark hair lay in tendrils over her cheeks and neck. Her body was silhouetted against the moonlit sky, strong and tight and powerful. Nita wanted to run her hands over her sculpted shoulders and down her bare arms. She wanted to slide her palms beneath the thin T-shirt and cup the soft swell of her barely perceptible breasts. She wanted, and the wanting felt good even though she knew there was no more basis to it than a primal urge programmed somewhere in the depths of her brain. She hadn’t been able to resist touching Sylvia, and she had paid for that weakness with a huge part of her heart and soul. She would not make the same mistake again.
“What?” Deo asked, trying to decipher the look on Nita’s face. For an instant she thought she had seen desire, but now she saw only sadness. Remarkably, it was the sadness that made her reach out more than the fleeting desire.
Nita held up her hand and forestalled Deo’s motion. “Shower, remember? Tilt your head back and let the rain wash you clean.”
Wondering if it could really be that simple, Deo closed her eyes and surrendered to the storm.
*
“Nelson,” Reese whispered. “You awake?”
Nelson Parker turned his head slowly on the pillow, clearly struggling to focus. His voice was raspy and faint when he spoke, a mere echo of his normally deep vibrant baritone. “Reese.”
Reese reached over the aluminum railings that separated her from him and rested her hand on his bare forearm. When he tried to raise his arm he could barely move it and his weakness struck her even more powerfully than seeing the tubes and other monitoring devices attached to and exiting his body. “How are you feeling?”
“Dog shit.”
“Yeah, I imagine.” Reese grinned and Nelson’s mouth flickered in a smile. “I won’t make it here before your surgery in the morning, so I’ll see you sometime tomorrow afternoon when you wake up.”
Nelson nodded almost imperceptibly. “Busy?”
“The usual.”
“Bri.”
Reese reached for the oversized Styrofoam container filled with water and positioned it so Nelson could reach the straw without lifting his head. She waited while he drank and then put the cup back on the narrow television table next to the bed.
“Lot to ask…” Nelson swallowed, and when he spoke again his voice was stronger. “Have to ask you to look after her if things don’t go well tomorrow.”
It never occurred to her to say anything other than the truth. To do anything less would be to deny him the respect he deserved. She knew he might die. So did he. It wasn’t dying that mattered, but how one did it. “I will. She’s strong, Nelson. She’ll be all right.”
“She here?”
“Can’t get her to stay away.” Reese grinned. “Between Tory and Caroline they’ve gotten her to go home a few times to shower and change her clothes.”
“Damn stubborn kid,” he said, his eyes shining.
“We love her. She’ll always have a home with us—both her and Caroline.” Reese squeezed his arm. “You don’t have to worry about her. What you need to do is everything you can to stick around for her. That’s the mission.”
“Sounds easy.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard.” Reese slid her hand down until her fingers lay in Nelson’s palm. He closed his around hers. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chief.”
“Roger.”
Reese walked out into the hall and found Bri waiting just outside the door. Caroline was with her, her hand tucked into the back pocket of Bri’s leather motorcycle pants. “Your dad needs to get a good night’s rest, so why don’t you say good night to him. You’ll see him in the morning.”
“Okay.” Bri’s voice was slightly unsteady.
“Tory says the surgery will make him stronger.” Reese briefly clasped her shoulder. “That’s what he wants.”
“I know.” Bri glanced at Caroline. “You coming in with me?”
Caroline gave her a look. “Like I wouldn’t?” She kissed her cheek. “What a blockhead.”
When they disappeared into Nelson’s room, Reese returned to the ICU waiting room and slumped onto the sofa next to Tory. It was only a little after nine p.m. and she shouldn’t be tired, but she was.
“Bri okay?” Tory asked, taking Reese’s hand.
“She’ll stand,” Reese replied.
“She’s scared.”
“Yes.” She raised their joined hands and brushed her lips over Tory’s. “But scared or not, she’ll be okay, because it’s not the fear that matters, but what you do about it.”
“Well, there’s not much more we can do here until tomorrow.” Tory rose with Reese’s hand still in hers. At Reese’s look of surprise, she said, “And I need you tonight.”
Reese stood and eased her arm around Tory’s waist. “Let’s go home.”