Awaken Me (The Jaded Series Book 4) (19 page)

He leans up from his perch and walks out of the bathroom. I follow him down the hallway and into the kitchen, where he grabs a bottle of juice out of the fridge.

“I was just getting ready to make sandwiches for lunch. Would you like one?”

Before answering, and instead of using a glass, he uncaps the bottle and tips it to his lips. I watch, spellbound, as his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. Because he hasn’t shaved in several days, his cheeks and neck are covered in rough hair. It’s not long, but I can imagine how good it would feel against my skin.

After drinking a quarter of the bottle, he twists the cap back on and sets it on the counter, before turning to face me.

“Sure. I’ve got a couple phone calls to make first to some of my crew.”

Glad to have a few minutes with him, I nod and move to the fridge, asking over my shoulder, “What do you like on yours?”

He lists off items he wants on his sandwich, and I pull them from the fridge. While I make our lunch, he leaves the kitchen to go to his office to make his calls. I grab a bag of chips out of the cabinet, pour some in a bowl, and set it on the bar beside our plates.

I’m opening a bottle of water when he walks back into the kitchen. Seeing the food at the bar, he takes a seat. I walk around and sit beside him.

It feels strange sitting here with him like this. I know we’ve done it a couple times before, but it feels different this time. Despite the rough start this morning, he seems more relaxed, which puts me more at ease. Too bad it can’t be this easy all the time. I push the thought away so it doesn’t spoil the moment.

“Things okay with work?” I ask, then take a bite of my sandwich.

“Not sure yet. Kevin, one of my foremen, is waiting on a call back from the sheriff there. They found some bones on one of the sites. We’re waiting on word to see if it’s human or animal.”

“Oh, wow!” I exclaim. “That’s awful. Has that ever happened before?”

Washing down the food in his mouth with juice, he says, “We’ve found dog and deer bones before, but luckily no human ones. There’s been other strange stuff we’ve discovered though.”

“Like what?” I ask, and take a bite of my sandwich, enjoying the easiness of our conversation.

“We found a ritual circle once. It had everything, down to the candles, blood-drawn symbols, which happened to be pigs’ blood, wooden bowls with dowels and some type of leaves or herbs in them. There was even a Ouija board. It was a group of young girls thinking they wanted to do voodoo or some shit. They got spooked and left everything behind when they heard a noise. One of my men left something and came back for it. We found everything the next day.”

I can’t help the laugh that slips out.

“Sorry,” I say, trying to hold back my smile when he looks at me strangely. “I can just imagine what the girls thought when they heard the noise. Obviously they were trying to talk to ghosts, and I’m sure they probably thought they found one. I remember playing with a Ouija board with Jase once. The little lever thingy moved, and I freaked out. Found out later that Jase moved it. My parents had a fit when they found the board. Grounded us for a month. For a minute I thought they were going to bring a priest in and bless the house. They’re God-fearing folk and are firmly against anything like that, even if it is just a childish game.”

I can’t help but stare at Nick’s lips when they tip up in a smile. I’ve always found him gorgeous, but when he smiles, which I’ve only ever seen him do a couple times, his whole face changes. The sadness and worry disappears, leaving behind a look of contentment. It never lasts though.

“We took on a charity case to build a church once,” he continues with another story. “We had the frames of all the walls up when we came across used condoms.” I almost choke on my food. After watching me take a swallow of my water to clear my throat, he smirks at me and continues. “It wasn’t just one or two either. We found seventeen used condoms throughout the entire building. We figured it was a group of people who got off on desecrating a place that’s meant to be pure.”

I put my half-eaten sandwich down, no longer hungry at the thought of used condoms lying around from an orgy, and push my plate away.

“That’s awful. And very disturbing and gross. I feel for the person who had to clean that up.” I shudder for effect, because really, the thought of cleaning up someone else’s used condoms gives me the heebie-jeebies.

He takes another bite and washes it down with his juice. Just like a man to not be affected by something like that.

“We also found some pretty cool Native American pottery down in Texas.”

“That’s so neat. I’ve always been fascinated by the Native American culture. History wasn’t my favorite subject in school, but when it came to Indians, I was all ears.”

I remember seeing a necklace once that Nick used to wear. I had forgotten about it until just now. I haven’t seen him wear it in a long time.

“The necklace you used to wear, that was Native American wasn’t it?”

He has his sandwich halfway to his mouth when I ask. His stops and drops it back to his plate. The shutters come back over his eyes, and I wonder what I said. The necklace is obviously a sore subject. Realization dawns, and I want to slap myself for once again messing up our easy conversation.

“Yeah,” he says, and gets up from his stool. He carries his plate to the sink and dumps it inside with a loud bang. I jump at the noise.

He rests his hands on the sink and drops his head. All I can do is sit there helplessly and watch him as he struggles through his pain. It’s apparent the necklace has something to do with Anna. Once again, I wish I could go to him and offer comfort, but I know it would be unwanted.

He stands there several seconds with his head bent, before he lifts it and turns around. The stark pain in his eyes has my own eyes glistening.

“Anna…,” he says hoarsely, before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Once he composes himself, he continues. “Anna had it made for me because my great-great-grandmother was full-blooded Indian.”

He doesn’t look at me as he talks, but stares off into space. I noticed he does that a lot. It’s like he gets caught up in his thoughts over and over again. I don’t say anything back to him, hoping he’ll continue on his own. Unfortunately, he doesn’t.

“I’m gonna head back outside before it gets too late,” he mutters.

He grabs the bottle of juice off the bar beside me, and without another word leaves the kitchen. A few seconds later, I hear the front door close. I hunch in my seat, my shoulders falling forward.

I decide to give Jaxon a call. My time here is up. Nothing I’m doing is really helping him. Yes, he’s not as harsh toward me as he used to be, but that doesn’t indicate he’s getting any better. All I seem to do is say the wrong thing. Makes me wonder if I’m doing more harm than good.

Not to mention, I really need to get back to work. I was hoping to make headway in the four days the school was closed, but that ended a day ago. I called yesterday before we left to go to Evelyn’s and took off Tuesday and Wednesday. Today is Tuesday. I don’t want to take advantage of the school’s relaxed policy on taking days off if need be. There are kids at school that could need me. Yes, Nick needs someone too, but he’s a grown man and can ultimately take care of himself, even if he chooses not to sometimes. Besides, it’s obvious it’s not
me
that he needs.

Our conversation is short, with me explaining that I feel my being here isn’t helping the matter.

I hear his deep breath over the line, before he replies, “Okay. We’ll try something else. The man can be stubborn as shit. You okay until morning? I’m stuck at work for inventory, but I can get Mac or Mia to come get you.”

I can tell he’s getting frustrated with the situation, everyone is. Nick doesn’t make it easy on the people who care about him. Grief can not only be harsh on the person grieving, but also the people surrounding that person. I can also tell that he doesn’t agree with me, but isn’t willing to push the issue. He knows the shit I’ve put up with from Nick and won’t ask me to put up with more. It makes me sad knowing Nick will be out here in his wooded wonderland alone, but knowing that I could be making the situation worse has me holding firm in my belief that I need to leave.

“I’ll be fine until then,” I tell Jaxon.

We make plans for him to come get me in the morning and then hang up.

With a defeated sigh, I get up from my stool, toss the remainder of my sandwich in the trash, and move to the laundry room to put the clothes in the dryer. Once that’s done, I pull a roast from the freezer, peel and chop potatoes, carrots, and onions, and throw them in the oven for dinner.

I move aimlessly around the house. I stop and look at all the DVDs and CDs Nick has. I pick out a Johnny Depp movie to watch later. Then I move to the couch to read for a while.

It’s not long before I set the book aside, it not able to keep my attention. I check the clothes and see they are still drying and move to the back door. Flipping the switch to unlock it, I step outside onto the back porch. I have on a zip-up hoodie, so I close it when the cool air hits me. The backyard is just as gorgeous as the front.

I hear Nick hammering at the front of the house. I want to sit outside and take in the fresh air, but I don’t want to take the chance of disturbing him. With that thought in mind, I sit on one of the lawn chairs next to me and watch the beautiful leaves drift down from the trees. It’s quiet out here, except for the inconsistent hammering. In any other situation, the tranquility of sitting out here with the colorful leavings dropping, the beauty of the waning sun peeking through the canopy of trees, the quiet, and the peacefulness would be soothing, but the magnificence of it all is overshadowed by the ugliness of the circumstances. I hope one day Nick can overcome the ghosts of his past, but I’ll not be the one to help him get there.

I sit outside until the sun sets. The hammering stopped about thirty minutes ago, but I don’t see Nick when I go inside. I fold the laundry, check the roast, and then decide to take a quick shower.

After lotioning up and pulling my wet hair into a messy bun at the top of my head, I leave the bathroom. Still no Nick. The roast is done, so I pull it from the oven. I make myself a bowl and sit at the bar to eat it.

I’m almost done when Nick comes up from the basement. My eyes are immediately drawn to his naked and sweaty chest. He’s wearing a pair of loose gym shorts and tennis shoes. He hasn’t noticed me sitting there because he’s using the towel wrapped around his neck to wipe his face. The thought of him down in the basement working out, his muscles straining and sweat dripping from his skin, has an ache forming between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together to try to relieve some of the pressure.

He freezes for a split second when he sees me with a potato halfway to my mouth. I hadn’t even realized I’d stilled until he looked at me. I probably look like an idiot, so I shovel the food in and drop my eyes to my plate. When I sense his movement, I peek up and see him grab a glass and fill it with water. He downs it and puts the glass on the counter. Not sure of his mood, I don’t say anything to him. He pulls the towel from his neck and mutters “Shower” before stalking out of the kitchen. My eyes follow him as he leaves the room.

He doesn’t seem like he’s in the best of moods, so I quickly finish my dinner, wash my bowl and fork, and leave the kitchen as well. I plop the DVD in I picked out earlier and sit down to watch it.

Twenty minutes later, Nick strolls out of the hallway wearing a pair of dark gray sweats that hang from his hips and a black Nirvana t-shirt. His hair is wet and looks unbrushed. The scruff on his face is still in place. It’s getting thicker and darker the longer he lets it grow.

He barely glances my way as he passes by me and that feeling of defeat takes hold again. I thought we were at least making progress, in the sense we were somewhat talking. His constant mood swings are irritating and giving me a headache. I want to march in the kitchen and demand he talk to me, even if it’s over stupid shit or him bitching at me. But I don’t want to piss him off my last night here. I was hoping to spend a little time with him before I left, but his attitude tells me that probably won’t happen.

With a sigh, I lean my head back against the couch and watch more Johnny Depp as his consciousness travels through different realities. I normally love anything with him in it, but for once he’s not able to keep my attention. Instead it keeps flickering back to the man in the kitchen.

Nick stays in the kitchen for a while and then silently slips out the back door. By the time my movie is finished, he still hasn’t come back inside. He’s obviously back to ignoring me. He’ll be glad to know I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m not up to hunting him down to tell him, so I elect to wait until the morning.

I get up and fold the throw I used to keep my feet warm. I decide to go to bed, since he’s been working all day and he’s using the couch. I change my clothes, brush my teeth and hair, and throw on some moisturizer before crawling under the warm comforter. I immediately grab Nick’s pillow and stuff my face against it.

It hurts a place deep inside, knowing that I’m leaving tomorrow. Nick hasn’t given me any reason to develop feelings for him, but I have. Over the two years of living here I’ve silently watched him. In the beginning he was silent and completely withdrawn from everyone. He rarely participated in any social gatherings and when he did, he was always in the background. As time went on, I could tell he was trying, but I think it was more for his friends rather than himself. Or maybe he was forcing himself to try harder to get out of the depressed rut he was in. I thought he was getting better. I was always there watching, hoping I got my chance to become his friend, but eventually he went back to his solitary life, forcing everyone else away.

I don’t know what’s in store for Nick; I don’t know what his future holds or if he’ll ever get over his guilt and sorrow. But I do know I can’t sit back and watch any longer. It’s breaking something inside me I fear can’t be mended if I let it continue. My feelings for Nick run deep. I don’t know if they are real or if seeing him so sad clicked something in me and made me want to change it. I’ve tried my best and nothing has worked so far. I’m sad and heartbroken to realize I’m not the person he needs.