Seconds Before Sunrise (The Timely Death Trilogy) (20 page)

I wrapped my arm around his t-shirt, wondering where my clothes had gone. My face was hot, and I was dizzy. It was the only
reason I surrendered and sat down.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

I laid my forehead on the table and reminded myself to breathe. I couldn’t believe where I was or what had happened. My last memory was twisting any sanity I had left. I remembered a girl magically appearing in the backseat of his car. It didn’t make sense.

The table rocked, and I looked up to stare at a cup of steaming liquid. Eric was sitting across from me. “I
s this for me?” I squeaked.

H
e tilted his head. “Who else would it be for?”

I didn’t respond as I grabbed the mug and sipped the hot tea. It soothed my throat, but it also calmed my nerves. I
t was possibly the best drink I had ever had.

Eric was staring into his mug. “Are—” he paused as I noticed the shadows beneath his eyes. He hadn’t slept. “Are you okay, Jessica?”

He was sincere, but his tone frightened me. It was the same one he used at the hospital.

“I’m
fine,” I lied, wondering how he had even driven me the night before. He didn’t have a car, and I wanted to ask him about it, but he gripped his mug like heat couldn’t burn him.

“And your neck?”

I nearly choked on my tea. “I’m okay,” I repeated, but Eric wasn’t moving.

“I’m going to confro
nt Robb tomorrow,” he said.

I straightened up. “I can handle it.”

“Can you?” His tone was as rigid as his stare. It was the first time he looked at me all morning.

“I’m capable,” I argued, desperately wanting to stop the aftermath of my actions, but Eric wasn’t giving up.

“You weren’t last night.” He scooted his chair back only to move it forward again. He took a drink and practically slammed his glass down. “I know you’re capable, Jessica,” he said. “But that’s why I don’t understand why you’re acting this way.”

I couldn’t fathom what he was saying. “You’re mad at me.”

His shoulders dropped. “I’m frustrated.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not acting like yourself,” he said, meeting my eyes again. The emerald color shuddered through me, and heat crept over the bruises that had formed overnight.

“You don’t know me that well
.”

He waved his hand over me.
“Don’t I?”

His words froze me, and I remembered kissing him. As much as I wanted to hate the drunken actions, I could still feel the clarity and comfort that had washed ove
r me during the moment. He was a momentary fantasy of the dream boy I was looking for, and I had never been happier leaning against him. But his words were cold.

I
lowered my face. “You’re being really mean.”

“I’m
being honest,” he whispered, waving his fingers where I was focused on the table. He wanted me to look up, but I couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” I said, rubbing my temples. “I’m just really confused right now.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, Jessica,” he said, and I glanced up to see a small smile spread across his face.

He sighe
d, and it disappeared as if it had never existed before. We sipped our tea to avoid conversing. I couldn’t blame him for the silence because I didn’t want to talk either. I wasn’t sure what to ask first − how a girl had appeared in his car I didn’t know he had, or why I was in his clothes. But I knew I had to ask one of them.

“I—I
saw something strange,” I stuttered.

Eric’s eyes were slits. “You were drunk.” Somehow, his words didn’t seem
sincere anymore.

“I didn’t know you got a new car,” I retaliated, but he didn’t tense.

“I guess you’ve been in both of mine now,” he said, and my stomach twisted. He really had a knack for controlling the conversation. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

“Your clothes,” I said.

It was the first time I saw him squirm.

He spit his drink into h
is cup, coughing up the liquid he choked on. I tensed at his reaction and waited for his answer, but he couldn’t speak through his chokes. He scooted away from the table and retrieved a glass of water. The few minutes passed like hours.

“You were soaked,” he said, pressing
his palms against the countertop. “I didn’t want you to get pneumonia. Nothing happened between us.”

Except the kiss. I doubted I
imagined it like how I had seen the woman appear in his car.

“I helped you change,” he continued. “That’s it. I promise.”

The words caused my head to spin, and I gripped the table, but it didn’t help. I fell over, stopping in mid-air. Even though he had been across the room, Eric had caught me. My vision blurred but refocused on his burning eyes. They looked blue, and I had to blink to see his emerald gaze again. His stare was ablaze.

“Are you okay, Jessica?” His voice was rushed as he helped me up. “Can you hear me?”

My cheeks were as hot as the rest of my body. “Must be the hangover,” I said, but his misty gaze shifted. “Why do you look at me like that?” I asked.

He
let me go and turned his face away. “Look at you like what?”

Before he could step away, I grabbed the end of his shirt. “Your eyes,” I said. “You look sad.” I didn’t know how else to word it. He was acting like our
kiss had broken him, and his reaction was breaking me.

Hi
s hand snaked around his back, and he grabbed mine. His fingers shook when he pulled my grip off of him, but he didn’t let me go. “I’m fine, Jessica,” he said.

“I’m sorry that I
kissed you,” I blurted out.

H
e dropped my hand then. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

My heart lurched. “What?”

“That I’ve been kissed,” he said, but his voice was tight. “It’s okay.” He collapsed in his seat in a way that suggested it wasn’t alright. “I think I’ll live.”

“So
, you’ll forgive me?” My voice was squeaking, and Eric’s cracked.

“If you stay out of trouble.”

“I will,” I promised.

He smirked his usual
“I’m-one-step-ahead-of-you” grin and placed his hands behind his head. “Then, you’re forgiven,” he said, “by me, at least.”

I didn’t understand. “Who else did I upset?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t parents get upset when their daughter doesn’t show up?”

“I was supposed to
stay at Crystal’s,” I said.

H
e chuckled. “You’ll still get in trouble.”

I cr
inged. I had lost everything I had taken to the bar, including my phone. “You’re probably right.”

He tapped his temple. “I have a lot of insight.”

“Or a lot of experience,” I retorted, and he opened his mouth to continue the banter, but the front door opened.

I jumped, but Eric stood up and laid his hand on my shoulder. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s just George.”

“What is he doing here?” I hissed, but it was too late. George had already scaled the stairs to the kitchen.

“Hello, Ms. Taylor,” he said, waving his cracked palm in my direction. I felt naked in Eric’s t-shirt and boxers, but George didn’t flinch. “I suspect you slept well last night.”

I couldn’t say a word to the man. He wasn’t Eric’s father, but he seemed to be more present than Eric’s actual one. George was talking to Eric when I finally noticed the stack of clothes in his hands.

“Are those mine?” I asked.

The older man handed them to me. “Teresa dropped them off at my house this morning,” he explained, and I wondered if I hadn’t imagined the woman after all. “They just came out of the dryer.”

I beamed when I grabbed them. “Thank you,” I exasperated, clutching the cleaned dress with desperation.

Eric pointed over his shoulder. “There’s a bathroom across from my bedroom.”

I ran faster than I thought my dizzy legs could take me. I slammed the door, and I practically ripped Eric’s clothes off to put mine on. With my attire returned, I felt like my usual self. Not my drunken, dangerous, delusional self. That wasn’t me. It never had been.

I folded Eric’s clothes and put them on the counter before I left the bathroom. I lingered in the hallway, wondering why George was accepting me when I heard them talking.

“Of course I didn’t tell your father,” George said, and his words slammed against my head. “You need to get this place cleaned up
, or he’s going to realize someone slept on the couch.”

“I wasn’t exactly sleeping, Urte,” Eric mumbled. The nickname
made me hold my breath. “It was torture having her here.”

“You’re going to have to forget about it,” George said. “You are close enough to your bi
rthday that you can’t risk this. The prophecy will only tolerate so much.”

“I had to do it,” Eric said, and I heard his footsteps cross th
e room. He would see me any minute.

“You have to take care of yoursel
f first, kid,” George said.

“But—” Eric
stopped speaking when he rounded the corner and saw me. His mouth hung open, and George started talking, but Eric lifted his hand. “You’re already dressed,” he said, and I stepped closer.

Unlike Eric, George’s reaction
was neutral. “I didn’t hear you come down the hallway.” George’s words felt like a lecture.

“I guess I’m quiet,” I muttered, trying to catch Eric’s startled expression again, but it was gone.
He was looking out of the kitchen window.

“Well, the
n.” George whistled, clapping his hands together. “Are you ready to go?”

“Go?” I asked.

“Go home,” Eric explained. “I have a doctor’s appointment, so George has to take you.”

“Oh.”
I turned to Jonathon’s father, hoping this wouldn’t become part of his daily biography he gave his son. “Yeah. I’d love to go home.”

Jessica

I locked the door the instant I stepped into my house. I was thankful George hadn’t attempted a conversation, and I was hoping I wouldn’t have to have one with my parents. But I doubted it.

I only got halfway upstairs before my mother shouted from the kitchen. “Is that you, Jessie?” She appeared as soon as her question dissipated, but I kept walking toward my bedroom. She followed me. “Where were y
ou? Are you okay? You look sick. What happened?”

“Nothing,” I grumbled, grabbing a towel from my shelf as I went toward my bathroom.

She cut me off at the doorway. Her hair was in a bigger mess than I was in. She didn’t look mad at all.

“Can I get a shower
first?” I asked.

H
er bottom lip quivered as she stepped to the side.

I walked past her with guilt leading the way. I had to get cleaned up before I explained myself,
but I knew it wasn’t fair. I pushed the thoughts away as I stepped out of my dress and into the shower. The hot water stung my neck, and I ran a rag across my back and stomach. The dirt in my hair felt like it would never come out, and I had to wash it twice before I was satisfied. If only the soap could wash away the memories of Robb.

Maybe Eric was right. I couldn’t handle it.

The memories were as painful as the actual moment. My friend had choked me, not to mention forced a kiss on me, and I was more broken than when I had given up on finding my parents. Strangely enough, I couldn’t recall why I gave up during the summer, but Eric could see it before I did. I wasn’t acting like myself. I lost myself somewhere, but I didn’t know how to get myself back. The only time I felt complete was in my dreams. Until kissing Eric. I closed my eyes to rid myself of the feeling, but the sound came without warning:

Thud-thump. Thud-thump. Thud-thump.

His heartbeat.

My stomach churned, and I fell on my
knees and threw up. I coughed, choking on the taste of the tea I had earlier. I rubbed my face and watched the discolored liquid swirl down the drain with the soap. When it was gone, I turned off the water and stood on shaky knees.

I got out, wrapped myself in the towel, and opened my bathroom door. Steam curled against the ceiling, and I ran my hand ov
er my clean hair. My insides felt worse than my body.

“Jessie?”

I was shocked my mother had stayed in my room. “Mom—”

“Are you ok
ay, sweetheart?” she asked.

I walked into my closet before she saw the bruises
on my neck. I didn’t know how I would explain, so I grabbed a turtleneck and pulled it over my head.

“I’m fine,” I lied, stepping out to face her.

She was sitting on my bed, and her fingernails dragged across my sheets. “I heard you puke.”

“It was nothing.”