After the Rain (The Twisted Fate Series Book 1) (14 page)

18

Third time is the
lucky number three

Inky black-y blackness.

Dark, black-black-y blackness.

Stormy had never liked black.

The color didn’t suit her. Even when Lilly and her friends had gone through their very short-lived tortured-teen-gothic phase, with generous dollops of black eyeliner and black Nirvana nails, she had not.

She loved color. She needed color, like she needed sunshine and sunflowers and the pretty happy things in life. Butterflies and believing in unicorns and pots of gold at the end of rainbows.

Damien had once explained to her what a black hole was. She thought it was the most terrible thing she’d ever heard. Something that ‘eats’ light. A place that light goes to die.

The inside of the car felt like a black, dark, doomy-gloomy black hole, despite the fact that the sun was still shining outside. They’d been sitting in the motionless car watching the steam billow out of the engine for over an hour now, listening to the repetitive hiss and gurgle of the engine as Sammy went about healing her poor overheated self.

She wondered what exactly Damien had said to Marcus, because since that conversation, he’d been ignoring her. He’d gone from savaging her sexually to not looking at her once. But what Lilly had said to her, that Marcus might actually like her, that they might be perfect for each other, had made Stormy want to look at him. A lot.

But it was clear that Lilly had been very,
very
wrong. Because it now seemed like Marcus liked her less than he had when they first met. Stormy usually didn’t care what people thought of her –– but for some reason, she cared now.

She was desperate to know what Marcus was thinking. They needed to talk. Now.

“Okay, let’s get out of the car!” she said, opening her door and climbing out. Marcus didn’t move, though, and just gave her a quick sideways glance that communicated a very loud ‘NO’.

“Marcus. Get out the car. We need to talk,” she spat the words out, trying to sound as firm and forceful as possible.

“I am not getting out of the car, Stormy!”

“We live in a democracy, and I say
get
out of the car
.” She folded her arms in angry defiance.

“That’s an autocracy. Not a democracy.”

“Well, I don’t even know what that means, so it can’t be.”

“Stormy,” he sounded angry. “That is the worst logic I have ever heard! That’s what’s wrong with you, nothing about you makes any sense…”

Stormy gasped loudly as his words stung her. “What? You think there’s something wrong with me?”

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant, I meant to say –” He paused, and Stormy could almost hear his brain ticking away like a loud alarm clock. “There’s nothing wrong with you. But there’s something wrong with me when I’m around you.”

“See, that’s why we need to talk. So get out or I will force you out with the power of my mind.”

Marcus’s neck almost snapped off as he swung his head around to look at her. “You can do that?”

Stormy tutted. “No, don’t be ridiculous! I’m not a poltergeist!”

Marcus sighed. “Fine. I need some shade anyway.” Marcus climbed out, striding across the road like he was in charge and in control – when clearly he wasn’t. They sat under a large Baobab tree. The trunk was enormous – it would have taken at least ten people holding hands to wrap around it – and the massive branches fanned out like a giant umbrella, providing deliciously cool shade.

Stormy wasted no time getting back to the topic. “What did you mean, there’s something wrong with you when you’re around me?”

This was the question that Marcus had been dreading. He’d regretted saying it, but he had.“I feel…” He stared slowly, choosing his words very carefully like the lawyer in him would. “…you have this effect on me, and when I’m near you, I feel… I want to be nearer. A lot nearer.”

He didn’t know how else to describe it. And this seemed like the safest way, without revealing too much of the feeling that was rising up inside him. He’d meant what he’d said to Damien: he liked her. It was like she’d cast some kind of spell over him, and it wasn’t just sexual – it was something else too, something deeper.

“I feel the same way,” Stormy said softly.

Marcus doubted that very much. Because Stormy didn’t really know how Marcus felt. “I know we’ve said this before, and it never seems to stick… but we
really
should not be doing this. And I’m getting as bored with saying that as hearing the word ‘chakra’.” Despite the mood, he smiled to himself slightly, because now he was saying that bloody word too. “We need to stop doing this.”

“Why?”

Because
I like you and I don’t want to risk
liking you a lot and being discarded after six weeks
– that’s what his brain said, but his mouth opened and said something else entirely. “Because this is not me. I don’t go around having sex with random women. It’s not my thing...”

He wished he knew what Stormy was thinking; she’d picked up a stick and was drawing something in the sand. He watched until the lines stared forming a recognizable image. A sun with a smiling face.

The picture brought the smallest smile to his face. She was so… so… he didn’t have the words… so Stormy.

Innocent (though not in bed or on bathroom floors).

Smart (but not in a conventional way).

A literal burst of color, a ray of sunshine.

Fuck!
This was not good.

“Please,” he tried to hide the desperation in his voice, but it wasn’t working that well. “Can we promise not to do this any more?”

“
You
kissed
me
,” Stormy reminded him, putting the finishing touches on the puffy clouds and what he assumed were birds, but looked more like plus signs.

“You reciprocated.” He needed to point that out. Because she had.

Stormy simply nodded and Marcus continued to watch, oddly intrigued, as she started drawing two stick figures in the sand. One had long hair – at least he thought it was hair – and the other had big shoes.

“What’s that?”

“It’s us… and look,” she added arms to the stick figures. “We’re shaking hands in agreement. That way, we don’t have to touch again.” Marcus smiled to himself – a problem solved in true Stormy fashion.

“We shook on it before. Twice,” he offered. “Remember? It didn’t really stick.”

“You know what they say. Third time is the lucky number three.”

“Lucky number seven,” Marcus corrected with a smile. “Third time lucky.”

“What’s seven go to do with this?” She looked up at him and their eyes met. She shouldn’t have done that. His heart tapped-danced in his chest. A feeling rising…

“So we agree?” she asked, pointing the stick back at her picture, which now seemed to be boasting a rainbow and a giraffe.

“We agree.” Marcus said. They had to stop, because this thing with Stormy felt out of control;
he
felt out of control. He needed to do something that put him back in his comfort zone, and if there was one thing he was good at, it was getting things done.

“Come. We need to make a plan to get out of here.”

“How?”

“I once spent the summer with a friend whose father fixed cars. I’m going to go and take a look under Sammy’s bonnet.” (He couldn’t quite believe he’d just called that sad ensemble of metal parts a name!)

19

Roses are sometimes red and
sometimes not

Stormy sat on the side of the road, intrigued as she watched Marcus open the bonnet and peer inside as if he knew what he was doing. She wasn’t going to say anything just yet, but she would be willing to bet (if she believed in betting or had any money to do so) that he knew nothing about cars! This was clearly just a male mucho thing. But he did look rather good doing it –even if she couldn’t touch, she could still watch, right? She felt a little saddened by the conversation they’d just had, but a small part of her had been slightly relieved. This thing with him was starting to wig her out, and putting an end to it was probably the right thing to do.

“Do you really know what you’re doing?” she finally asked, after he climbed under the car and emerged covered in grease and sand.

Marcus nodded confidently and rubbed his hands together. “I’m pretty sure I can get her up and running again.” He said it was so much confidence that she wanted to believe it, but when he went back to the engine and continued doing the same thing he’d been doing to it for the past ten minutes, with a slight look of confusion on his face that he couldn’t hide, she wasn’t so sure.

But after about an hour of watching Marcus fiddling with the car, she was bored. And she also had to rehearse Lilly and Damien’s wedding gift, so she got her guitar out of the backseat and sat back down in the sand on the side of the road. She’d written them a wedding song as a gift, which she intended to play it at the reception. She started strumming.

Marcus immediately looked up from what he was doing when he heard it. It was ridiculous. Her playing wasn’t bad at all, but the guitar sounded old and off-key. Some of the strings had snapped, which gave it a tinny sound. And the lyrics!

Roses are sometimes red and sometimes
not,
And violets are definitely purple or a darker shade
of blue,
And Lilly and Damien, I just want to
say that I love you.
Both. Not just one, but
two-oooh-oooh.
But still not as much as you
love each other, ooooohhhh…

Was that the verse? She started strumming even more enthusiastically as she began belting out the chorus, which stunned him. It was beautiful and completely haunting, unlike the verse with its terrible rhyming and clumsy phrasing. He leaned against the car and watched, and when she was finished, he couldn’t help a little clap.

“That was great.” And he meant it. The next few verses had been just as silly, but he couldn’t quite imagine her writing anything else. “What’s it for?”

“It’s Damien and Lilly’s wedding present,” Stormy smiled up at him. “Do you really like it?”

Marcus nodded. “They’ll love it.” Because he knew they would. He’d bought them an expensive weekend away at a luxury resort, and she’d written them a song. This was a perfect example of just how different they were.

“So how’s Sammy looking?” she asked, putting her guitar down and stretching out her legs. She looked like one of those traveling hippies from the sixties – all she needed was to be pulling a peace sign and the picture would be complete. Marcus wiped his greasy hands on his shirt, and although he hated being wrong, he had to admit defeat.

“Okay, so I don’t
really
know what’s going on with Sammy.” He looked down at his watch and couldn’t quite believe how late it was. The day way almost over and they would be stuck on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere at night. Their hotel room was booked for tonight and their flight to Dubai was booked for tomorrow morning, and at this rate, there was no way they would be making any of those, unless… He dug his phone out of his pocket and started scrolling for the number he was looking for. He would just call the hotel and they could organize someone to come and fetch them. Why hadn’t he thought of this earlier? Mind you, his brain hadn’t exactly been its usual analytical, solution-finding self lately. Marcus found the hotel’s number and hit the dial button. But as soon as he did, the ‘No service’ icon popped up.

“No, you’re kidding,” Marcus groaned.

“What?” Stormy asked.

“No cell reception here all of a sudden.” He held his phone up in the air and started walking up and down the side of the road. He walked all the way down the road to the spot where he’d had the conversation with Damien, but nothing.

“You’re fucking kidding.” He hung up and walked in the opposite direction, swinging the phone above his head. He jogged up a small hill nearby and when that didn’t work either, he jogged back down to Stormy. “Where’s your phone?”

“The battery is dead,” Stormy said. The sun was starting to set, and unless they got cell phone reception, they would be spending the night in the car and then walking tomorrow morning until either they got reception, or someone drove past.

And now they would definitely be missing the rehearsal dinner. This was a total disaster. And the worst part was that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He kicked up the dust and felt like he wanted to punch something, only his head was throbbing by this point. He switched his phone off to conserve the battery, put it back in his pocket and turned to Stormy.

“Looks like we might be stuck here for the night,” Marcus said, assuming that Stormy would totally freak out. Instead, her response was totally unexpected.

Stormy had been watching Marcus run up and down like a mad, beakless chicken for the past fifteen minutes, swinging his buttonless phone around his head as if he was swatting flies. And to be honest, she was glad when the whole thing was over and he’d finally given up, because she was worried he might explode at any second. His shoulders looked like they were tightening, and she could basically hear his throat chakra screaming for help.

“That’s okay, I’m sure everything will be better in the morning.” Stormy smiled up at him, hoping to somehow calm his nerves by sending soothing vibey-vibrations his way. The sun was starting to set and Stormy was feeling hungry. “So do you have anything else to eat, other than those genetically modified bars of synthetic nutrients?”

“Huh?” Marcus looked confused. “You mean the protein bars?”

Stormy nodded. Really, the idea of synthesized protein flew in the face of everything she –

“Let me guess,” Marcus cut across her train of thought with a smile. “You don’t believe in protein bars?”

“Oh, to the max!” She smiled back at him, knowing that what she was about to say was probably going to amuse him. “That’s the kind of stuff we’ll be having to eat when the world has gone post-apocalyptic and all our food crops have been destroyed – possibly by an invading alien species (not the friendly ones), or by a giant solar flare.”

Marcus burst out laughing and was looking much more relaxed as he leaned against the car and folded his arms. “No, Stormy-Rain, I don’t have anything else. As surprising as this might sound to you, I just don’t carry organic alfalfa seeds with me.”

“Aha,” she jumped up happily. Finally, something she could correct
him
on! “They’re
sprouts,
not seeds.” Stormy pointed at Marcus, feeling elated, and did a little happy jig as she sang, “Marcus doesn’t know everything, Marcus doesn’t know everything!”

Marcus smiled and then laughed some more. “Fine. I’ll admit my knowledge of vegan cuisine is limited.”

He pulled out a packet and reached inside, and when Stormy saw what was coming out, she let out another sigh. Marcus needed her help, seriously – he was
so
misguided. Stormy pointed at the offensive object in his hand. “Diet Coke! Do I have to tell you about the evils of artificial sweetener too, Marcus? Do you know what that stuff can do to you?”

“Enlighten me. Please.”

“Well,” Stormy launched into it. “They can cause migraines, nausea, joint pains, and even
impoten
–” Stormy broke off in the middle of her sentence. She didn’t want to speak of, think about or draw attention to this man’s penis in any way, shape or form (excuse the pun). But it was too late.

“Well…” Marcus sounded slightly defensive. “It’s not like I have that prob–”

“No. I’m not saying you do… but…” This conversation had taken a turn for the worse now. “I wasn’t trying to imply that your pe–”

“Okay!” Marcus flung his hand in the air. “Let’s not talk about my –” Marcus stopped short.

“No. You’re right. Of course.” Stormy nodded in agreement “It’s not like I want to talk about your…
um,
not that’s it’s not a very talkable object obviously, but –”

“Stormy,” Marcus held up his hand again. “You’re still talking about it. A lot.”

“Oh.” Stormy covered her mouth with her hand in case anything else pertaining to his… you know what… shot out.

“Here,” Marcus said, handing over a protein bar.

Stormy took the little sucker between her fingers and gazed at it. She was appalled. But she was also hungry, and perhaps she needed to give her mouth something to do before it sprouted out more inappropriate stuff about his penis,
or worse
…