Shallow Page 10

  Fire flickered against my chest, warming me from the inside out. Brinley had taken care of me.

  She’d mentioned Danny though.

  “What about Danny?”

  “If you want, I can drop you off with Danny, but that might be awkward.” She swallowed, her slender throat moving up and down with the motion “I was thinking you’d stay with me.”

  Tugging her to me, I dipped my head down and slanted my lips over hers. The kiss was soft, tender, giving. She whimpered against my lips and when I pulled away, she touched her fingertips to my face.

  “No one knows you’ve been staying in the cave. Only me.” She kissed my jaw. “I wouldn’t tell anyone your secret,” she promised.

  We took another few steps – maybe half a dozen or over a million, but I couldn’t walk anymore. My legs were leaden. My chest thick while my vision blurred in front of me. Reaching out, I leaned a hand on a nearby tree and dropped my face as I coughed. Brinley was beside me, rubbing my back while she kissed my shoulder.

  “I need to sit,” I said.

  She helped me down with her face drawn in worry. I hated the concern in her eyes, hated the memory of the hurt I put in her eyes just last week.

  “I don’t hate you,” I said, rubbing my chest. “Last week you said I hated you. I don’t.”

  She sat beside me, wetting her butt when she sat in the same puddle as me. I took her hand and rested it on my lap while I leaned my head on her slender shoulder. Her thumb ran circles over the back of my hand. It was soft and sweet and I felt it everywhere. Like a brushfire over my skin and into my soul. It warmed me, made the frigidity go away.

  “You said you did.” Her voice was low, pained. “You said you hated me but not as much as you hated seeing me hurt.”

  I said that. The words rushed out of my lungs to both soothe and hurt. Because in my destructive little world, I clung to the hurt and spread it. Just like she did.

  “I didn’t mean it,” I breathed. My breath caught, the ache in my chest and head growing, and I coughed again. “I’ve never hated you. I wanted to.”

  “It’s okay.” She pressed her lips against my shoulder and through the layers of clothes I wore, I could feel the warmth. Her warmth. “I hate myself enough for the both of us.”

  As if her words hurt me more than it hurt her, I leaned over, gripped my stomach where the pain throbbed the most. Letting go of Brinley’s hand, I opened my mouth and vomited. Bile rose, my stomach convulsed, and I hurled even more while coughs racked my body.

  Bringing my head between my knees, I waited to see if more would come. I spit on the ground, hating everything but the girl next to me. The girl who brought me food, words and peace even when she thought I hated her. The girl who sat beside me, hugging my trembling body to hers.

  When I looked back at her, rested my head on my bent knee, she touched my forehead with the back of her hand.

  “Your fever’s coming back.” She looked up, past the tree branches and to the sky. “It’s gonna start raining pretty soon. Think you can start walking again?”

  I dipped my head in a nod. Taking her hand, she helped me up. My legs were still shaking while my body pulsed in pain. With her arm around my waist, we walked to her car. It was slow and each step hurt, but I had the girl— my girl— tucked beside me.

  And this time, I wouldn’t let her down.

  As soon as Roderick sat in my car, I buckled him in, and by the time I quickly changed out of my wet pants and got to the driver’s seat, he was asleep with his head resting against my window.

  His fever had gone down some, but never left him fully. He was sick, so sick, and I didn’t know what to do.

  If I took him to my dad, I knew he’d take care of him. But the questions would come and he’d learn Roderick had been living in a cave. He’d have to involve the police and before you knew it, he’d end up back at his aunt’s house. The one place Roderick told me he didn’t want to go to.

  He trusted me. I couldn’t betray him. I wouldn’t.

  At my house, I stirred him awake enough to get him inside and in my room.

  Our feet were wet and muddy and so were his pants. After taking off my socks and shoes, I cleaned up the mess we left on the floor. When I went back to my room, I found him sitting on my bed with a forlorn look on his face. In front of him, I sank to my knees and took off his shoes and socks and replaced them with a pair of my socks. They were pink, but warm. I helped him lie down and with nerves quaking, I moved to unbutton his jeans.

  He sucked in a deep breath, and then turned his head away from me to cough. I waited for him to finish. When he did, he unfastened his jeans and with my help, and we took them off. I rummaged through his bag and pulled out a pair of shorts. I slid them up his legs and he lifted his butt so I could pull them the rest of the way up. He quivered when I ran my hands over his damp shirt.

  “We need to get you out of this too.”

  Sitting up he took his shirt off and I handed him a clean one from his bag. I quickly changed into one of his shirts but kept my yoga pants on. When he lied back down, I covered him with my comforter. I touched his forehead, feeling his fevered skin even warmer than before.

  Sighing, I picked up my phone and called my dad.

  “Hey, kid,” he greeted me after four rings.

  “Hey, Dad.” I forced my voice to sound gravely.

  From the bed, Roderick’s eyes popped open. I leaned in to him, kissed his cheek and hoped he’d continue to trust me.

  “Uh-oh,” he said. “You don’t sound too great.”

  “I’m sick. Fever, nasty cough.” I gave an unconvincing cough that made Roderick’s lips spread in a tired smile.

  “Body aches?” he asked.

  “Body aches?” I parroted.

  Roderick nodded. “My chest hurts,” he whispered. “Feels really tight.”

  I rested my hand on his chest, ran my fingers over his shirt.

  “Yeah, my body hurts. My chest is really tight.” I sniffled and then coughed again. “My head’s pounding too,” I added, remembering how he gripped the sides of his head as if he were bracing against something he couldn’t fight.

  “Do you still have the antibiotics I left you last week?”

  I jumped off the bed and went to my dresser where the pill bottle sat unused. Shaking it, I said, “Yeah, but I vomited earlier. Won’t the pills make it worse?”

  “Oh, kid.” He covered the phone to say something to someone else. “You sound miserable. Tell you what, I’ll come home and take care of you.”

  Already expecting that response, I said, “Leave your cape on, Dad. I’m fine, just need you to tell me what to do.”

  “Brinley,” he warned.

  “Dad,” I used the same tone. “If I get you sick, then you’ll miss work and not be able to save lives,” I teased. “I’m gonna stay in bed, stay away from Mom and the nurse…” I searched for her name, “Bridgette, so no one else gets sick. Stay at the hospital, okay? Just tell me what I need to do?”

  He huffed. “If you get worse, you’ll call me?”

  “Yeah, of course. And Bridgette will be here soon. My very own certified nurse.”

  “Okay.” He sighed.

  I knew he hated staying away, not taking care of his little girl, but he respected my independence. He had to when he and my mom were the ones who forced it on me. Not that it was his fault. Or my mom’s. It just was.

  “I brought home some Jell-O last week when you started feeling bad,” he said. “See if you can eat that without throwing up, and then take the antibiotics with it. I’ll ask Lindsey to bring you some chicken soup.”

  “What about my fever?”

  “A cool bath and some Tylenol should help. How high of a fever do you have?”

  I touched Roderick’s forehead again, and he leaned in to my hand.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t checked, but I’m really hot.”

  Roderick waggled his eyebrows at me, and I pressed my lips in to a thin line, so I wouldn�
��t laugh.

  “Have you taken anything for it today?”

  “Yeah,” I answered, “about three or four hours ago.”

  “Take two more pills now, grab the Jell-O. There’s also crackers and Sprite in the kitchen.”

  “Geez, Dad,” I joked. “It’s like you were expecting the flu apocalypse.”

  My dad chuckled into the phone while Roderick smiled.

  “My daughter never stays home from school. I had to be prepared.”

  “Keep a stake ready, just in case I turn into a zombie.”

  “Stakes are for vampires,” he replied, his tone serious. “It’s like you don’t even listen to me when I speak.”

  Shaking my head, I laughed. And then remembered to cough to keep up the ruse. “Sorry, old man.”

  “You sure you’re okay without me there? We can watch movies in the living room. I already got my yellow nail polish.”

  “I love you, Dad.” My heart squeezed in my chest. “I’m good. Promise.”

  “Text me to let me know how you are after eating and taking your medicine.”

  “Got it.”

  After I hung up the phone, I left Roderick on my bed to grab crackers, Jell-O and a glass of Sprite like my dad instructed. Carrying it back to my room, I flinched when I heard my mom scream. Something crashed against the wall and I raced the rest of the way, without stopping or checking to see if she was going to leave her room.

  “What was that?” Roderick asked when I sat on the bed beside him.

  I helped him to a sitting position and propped some pillows behind him to lean on.

  “Hmm?” I asked, not meeting his eyes. “Neighborhood cat, maybe?”

  Blue eyes bore into me so I turned my attention away from him. As far away from his face and his questioning gaze.

  “Here.” I held out two pills for his fever and the glass of Sprite.

  Watching me, he took it from me and swallowed. After opening it, I handed him the Jell-O and a spoon. He ate slowly, as if each swallow hurt more than the other. When he gave it back to me, he tried to lie back down, but I stopped him.

  “More medicine,” I reminded him.

  I took an antibiotic from my dresser and placed it against his lips. When he took it in his parted lips, his mouth brushed against my fingertips. The sensation shot through my body, making my limbs shiver.

  “My dad said you should take a cool bath,” I said.

  He groaned, closing his eyes as he lied back on my bed.

  “Maybe later?” I offered.

  “Yeah, later,” he said.

  His eyes suddenly flew open, and he jolted from my bed. Kneeling on the floor, he rummaged through his bag and then held his toothbrush up like it was some sort of victory.

  “I’ll be right back.” He gave me a sheepish smile that I returned.

  A few minutes later, he crawled back into my bed a bit more sluggish than when he’d darted to my bathroom to brush his teeth.

  “Lie down with me,” he said but it came out sounding like a question.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  After locking my bedroom door, I slid into bed beside him. He reached for me, draped a heavy arm over my waist as he drew himself closer. Heat radiated from his body, and his warm breath fell on my face when he rested his head on my arm. He tipped his head down to cough, covering his mouth with a closed fist.

  “Everyone knows a good nurse sleeps with her patient,” I said when he looked back at me.

  He grinned, and it was the same smile I remembered from so many years ago. Before his parents died and tragedy had clawed her cruel fingers through his life.

  I ran my hands over his heated arm, smoothing out the goosebumps with each pass. When he looked back at me, I took my fingers to his hair. Closing his eyes, he moaned. God, I loved that moan.

  It wasn’t one of pain, but of pleasure. Pleasure I’d brought him.

  Two brisk knocks on my door startled both Roderick and me awake.

  “Brinley,” the now familiar voice of Bridgette called out.

  “Shit, your mom,” Roderick whispered, trying to scurry out of bed.

  “It’s not my mom,” I eased, touching his arm, which I was happy to find no longer hot to the touch. “Yeah,” I called out.

  “You dad said you’re not feeling well,” she answered through the close door. “He asked me to check on you and remind you Lindsey brought you soup.”

  “I’m fine. Better,” I spluttered out. “Thank you.”

  “You’ve been coughing for hours. It sounds pretty bad,” she continued. “There’s some cough medicine in the pantry I can bring you.”

  “No,” I rushed out. “Don’t want to get you or my mom sick. I’ll get it myself and the soup. Thank you, Bridgette,” I said again, hoping she’d take the hint and leave.

  When I heard her footsteps fade away, I asked Roderick if I should grab him some cough medicine. “Your cough is pretty bad. Kinda sounds like an elephant dying.”

  “Have you heard many elephants die?” he asked, raising a single brow.

  “One or two at the most,” I replied with a smirk.

  He touched his stomach. “I don’t think I can handle anymore medicine.”

  “Lindsey brought chicken soup. That might help.”

  “Yeah, okay.” He took my hand and pressed it against his face. I ran my thumb over his cheek. “Who’s Lindsey?”

  I jolted, an electric shock ran down my spine to my toes. “My dad’s girlfriend. My parents are divorcing.” I said it as if it didn’t matter. As if dads had girlfriends before getting a divorce.

  He trailed his hand over my arm, and when he touched my wrist he brought my hand to his lips where he placed a kiss on my open palm. I melted a little inside, wanted to lie back down next to him, where I was safe. Where nothing else mattered but us.

  “Who’s Bridgette?” he asked.

  “My mom’s new nurse.”

  “Was your mom the one who screamed earlier?”

  I jutted out my chin, forced my bottom lip not to tremble. In the past four years, I’d been so careful not to let anyone in. Not to let anyone see. Now with Roderick staying with me for who knew how long, he’d hear everything. Know everything.

  “Yeah,” I replied, my eyes staring hard at his face as if I could look straight through him. “And the screaming will get worse at night. If you can’t handle it, you can go back to the cave.”

  He sat up, put his arms around me, and held me in a tight embrace while he kissed the side of my head. One kiss, another, and then another.

  When he brushed his lips over my ear, he whispered, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Except he’d eventually have to leave. I couldn’t hide him away forever. He’d go back to the cave or his aunt’s. And again, I’d have no one to hold me together while my life continued to fall apart.

  The screaming got louder. Shrieks that made the walls tremble, and Brinley’s large room feel small.

  I held Brinley close to me, ran my hands over her arm and back. Her breathing was loud, and her eyes closed while her face pinched in pain.

  Loud pounding sounded at the door. Brinley flinched, wrapped her arms around her body, all while keeping her eyes painfully shut.

  “Mrs. Crassus,” a voice soothed on the other side, “let’s get you back to bed.”

  Her mom wailed. Her tormented screams made the air thick. It lasted minutes, hours. Her hand slapped against the door, demanded to come in.

  “It’s locked,” Brinley whispered, her voice shaky. “Locked. Locked.” She repeated the words to herself, to me while I held her.

  “I’ve got you, baby,” I said.

  I held her, while she held onto herself. When it stopped, when the nurse finally convinced her mom to go back to her room, I felt Brinley shake beside me.

  “Baby,” I whispered against her temple.

  But it was as if she couldn’t hear me. Feel me. See me.

  I urged her body on top of mine where she curled agai
nst me with her head buried against the crevice of my neck. Holding her, I spoke softly in her ear. Words of hope, of encouragement. A reminder that we were together. Fighting our demons, our battles together. Desperately together.

  “Come back to me, Brinley.” I brushed her hair back, ran my fingers through the long strands over her back.

  She continued to shake. I continued to talk, to touch her. To make sure she was still here, with me.

  “Roderick?” It came out small. Uncertain.

  Her rapid breaths floated across my neck. When her body suddenly stiffened, she moved to edge away, but I held on tighter.

  “Stay with me,” I said.

  I felt her nod and held her impossibly closer to me.

  When my eyes fluttered open, I immediately missed the warmth of Brinley draped over my chest, her head resting by my throat, and her breath hitting my skin. Instead, all I had to hold onto was the raging ache in my head and body.

  Wearing my shirt and yoga pants that clung to her slight curves, she stepped out of her bathroom looking fresh and beautiful. I sat up, reached for her, and she went into my arms without question, resting her chin on top of my head while I pressed the side of my face to her chest. My fingers trailed beneath her shirt, over the smooth surface of her back. She shuddered.

  “You look good in my shirt,” I said.

  “And you look like hell.”

  “That’s my girl,” I replied, enjoying the way her heart fluttered against my ear. “Always bringing me down a notch, back to reality.”

  She inched away, so I traced my hands over her waist where I left them.

  “Am I your girl?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” I swallowed and grimaced when it hurt. “Maybe. Yeah?”

  Holding my face in her hands, she leaned down and kissed my lips. I wanted to linger there, keep our mouths fused against one another, but she broke the kiss quickly.

  “I want to be your girl,” she said a little breathless.

  “Okay,” I breathed out but turned away when I had to cough.

  She rubbed a hand over my chest. I took her hand, pressed it where it hurt the most, knowing she’d make it hurt less.