CHAPTER TWELVE
Even though I woke up the next morning to the tongue-melting smel of bacon wafting in from Maximus’s kitchen and bright sunlight streaming in through the windows, the vague recol ection of my dream was enough to maintain a low level of creepiness. I lay back in bed, listening to Maximus whistle Johnny Cash’s “Understand Your Man”, and pushed the dark and moldy images out of my head. I kept seeing the fathomless river rushing to greet me, a whirlpool for a hungry mouth, the sound of indignation in Abby’s metal ic, Minnesota voice. The promise someone – something – had made to her. The promise to have me.
I shuddered despite the warmth of the bedroom and was relieved when Maximus cal ed out from the kitchen, “Do I hear you stirring in there, sunshine? Breakfast is ready.”
I smiled at his effortless tone and eased myself out of bed. My muscles, especial y my thighs and arms, ached from their unexpected usage last night. Everything else though felt OK and I was in no pain.
I swung my legs out from under the covers. I started to lower my feet to the floor but paused. Something was amiss.
I lifted one leg and peered at the bottom of my foot. It was rubbed black with dirt.
My other foot looked exactly the same. I anxiously lifted back the covers. The area where my feet had been had scatterings of dirt across it, like I had gone on an epic walk in my bare feet and crawled back into bed without cleaning myself off.
A vicious knot formed in the pit of my stomach. Last night had to have been a dream. I mean, I wasn’t wet. And I certainly wasn’t dead.
“Darling?”
“Coming,” I said unable to control the warble in my voice.
I quickly brushed al the dirt off of the sheets and tucked the cover back down. I vigorously rubbed my feet against the grey carpeting, glad that the scratchy cheapness and forgiving color would hide the evidence. I couldn’t explain why, but I didn’t want Maximus to know about this. Not yet, at any rate.
He had laid out a white robe on top of my duffel bag, so I pul ed it on and walked out into the rest of the apartment.
The newness and generic quality of the factory-churned apartment no longer made me feel safe. How could I be safe when I was leaving places like this in the middle of the night and going on little night hikes?
“Are you al right? You look a bit pale,” Maximus said as I came into the kitchen. He flipped two slices of bacon onto a plate of eggs and toast and nudged it toward me with his elbow. “That’s al for you, sunshine.”
“Thank you,” I said with as much graciousness I could muster. I took the plate and sniffed at it with appreciation.
“I’m just a bit…tired.”
He nodded with a smile and twisted around to grab some salt from the spice rack. It was then I saw his face, the four thin, scabbing scratches that stretched from his cheekbone down to the side of his mouth.
I gulped and gripped the plate extra hard so I wouldn’t drop it.
He raised his brow at me, then his lips twitched sheepishly. “Oh right, my face. I’m tel ing you Perry-”
“I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, cutting him off. I put the plate on the counter with a clatter and reached up for his face, gently pressing my fingers along the cuts. It actual y suited him, adding an additional layer of ruggedness and mystique, but it stil shamed me. I wasn’t that violent of a person, and I’d never been rough during sex before.
He grabbed my hand and kissed it, his eyes never leaving my face. He didn’t seem mad or put-off but it didn’t make me feel any better. “No worries. I reckon I probably deserved it.”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” I told him. But as soon as those words left my mouth I was second-guessing them.
He shrugged and gave my hand a squeeze. “I wouldn’t blame you. But, hey, sometimes the first time is bit wishy-washy. I reckon we’l find our groove.”
Placing a kiss on my cheek, he sprinkled extra salt on his eggs and took it to the table. The thing was, I didn’t know if there would even be another time to find our groove.
Now that it was the next morning and the steam and lust from the night had died down, I couldn’t spend too much time having a relationship with Maximus. I didn’t even know if I wanted one. Maybe I just wanted to get laid. What I did know what there was something much larger I needed to concentrate on.
I sat down across from him and helped myself to a pot of fresh-brewed coffee.
“How close are we to a library?” I asked him between sips.
“You’re the Portland native, little lady,” he pointed out as he cradled the mug in his large hands. “Going to do some reading, are we?”
“I am.”
“Do you care for the company of a gentleman?”
I looked around me mockingly. “I would but I don’t see any.”
He chuckled to himself and tucked into his food. “Wel you just let me know then.”
“You can come if you help me. And not laugh at me. Not judge me.”
He paused, his eggs balancing on his fork. “Why would you say that?”
I leaned forward, making sure he knew how serious I was. “I’m getting books out on demon possession.”
I could so tel he wanted to say something to change my mind but to his credit he swal owed it down. Literal y, I could see his Adam’s apple bob against his long throat.