Just Breathe (Blue #1) (6 page)

Lucas gives the cab driver directions to his place, and I exhale loudly. With my ear pressed against his chest, I listen to his heart beat erratically like mine. He’s as nervous as I am, and possibly, as unsure about all of this.

Chap
ter 4

Even in disasters, there are miracles

In the middle of a hurricane, there is a calm of the storm

While your world is crashing before you

Shattering into a million microscopic pieces

Somewhere at that very moment

Someone is blissfully happy

Such is the balance of the world.

Cassandra

Mom really knew how to pick a winner when she chose him as her boyfriend. I liked this guy, though. He was the coolest. Who else parties with a woman’s sixteen-year-old daughter? One of the reasons I liked him so much was that he didn’t attempt to take on the role of my dad. Every other washed-up-has-been my mom dated tried to tell me what to do and when to do it, but not him; he was so down-to-earth.

We passed this bottle of Jose Cuervo for a while. It was his idea. I don’t remember drinking that much, but my head is swimming. I’m wasted. I’ve never drunk this much in my life. Usually after two shots, I’m done. Man, when Mom comes home from work, she’ll be so pissed we drank her tequila. I can’t see straight, but I try to keep my eyes open.

He says, “Come on, Kid. You need to drink more. I told you that you were drinking with ‘The Big Dog’ tonight.”

I can barely understand a word of what he’s saying or even look at him. There was three of him the last time I checked. He literally forces the alcohol down my throat by putting the bottle up to my mouth and making me take another shot. Despite fighting the urge, that last shot makes it impossible for me to hold open my eyes.

A horrible stabbing pain brings me from unconsciousness. I’m being ripped apart from the inside out. He’s on top of me, holding down my arms. My legs are restrained by something. I drift in and out of consciousness. Every time I wake, I’m slurring, “No.” I try to get him off me by clawing at him. I beg him to stop, but he pushes harder inside and places his hand over my mouth and nose, cutting off my oxygen. I inhale, but it’s too hard to even attempt to take a deep breath. Breathe in...Breathe out. It’s so unbelievably hard to breathe.

I can’t see anymore. My throat is on fire every time I inhale. I only smell him, a mixture of tequila, car oil, and clove cigarettes. The last thing I remember hearing is a devilish growl as he said, “You’re so cute. Don’t fight me, you stupid little bitch! You know this is what you wanted. If you tell anybody, I will kill your mother! Got that? Tell no one!” He squeezes my shoulders with his hands. I think he wants me to say something, but I can’t. I’m too terrified to speak, so I nod my head as tears slide down my face. “Good! Life lesson number one, you fucking slut. Trust no one!” I try to fight losing consciousness, but his hands keep tightening around my neck, and then the pain finally stops…

People’s instincts differ when they’re waking up. At this moment, mine happens to be my fist, flying out in front of me in defense. It collides with something while a scream escapes my lips. Survive first. Explain later. I force open my eyes, only to find we’re still in the cab. The ‘something’ I hit was Lucas. When I try to slide away from him, he pulls me closer. “Lucas!” I shriek. “I’m so sorry. I have night terrors. I didn’t mean to...I thought you were…never mind...”

I gasp at the shock of the situation. Guilt washes over my entire body, and my stomach begins to stir from the consequences.

Lucas places his index finger lightly over my lips and stops the words from spilling out of my mouth. My body involuntarily shakes, as soft sobs escape around his fingertip. “It’s…uh... okay, Cricket. Go back to sleep.” He removes his hold from my lips and then wipes my tears away with his thumbs.

My imagination must be going wild. In this dim lighting of the moon, it seems like he wipes my tears and then places his finger into his mouth. My eyelids are so heavy; they begin to close by themselves. I try to protest, but Lucas’ soothing voice sings and lulls me to sleep. “You are my calm, my wind, and my rain.” He then hums a soft, beautiful, but unfamiliar medley.

*****

Soft strumming of a guitar startles me from a deep sleep. I try to recall the events of last evening, but there isn’t much I remember after getting into the cab. I groggily run my eyes over a pile of moving blankets next to me. Every muscle in my body stiffens when I hear breathing under the covers. I relax when I make out Dar’s familiar small snore. I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank goodness. After sitting up, I slide out of bed slowly, trying not to disturb her.

This bed is massive, the biggest I’ve ever seen.

The flooring in the room has an intricate pattern that resembles the number eight embedded into the hardwood. The slats around the windows alternate with colors of ebony and light chestnut. The entire room has a Victorian sense of style. An arched mirror with an intricate swirling design takes up most of the left wall. It stretches from floor to ceiling. I’m beginning to wonder what else Lucas does for money, because I’m pretty sure he can’t afford all of this on a bartender’s salary.

As the notes coming from the guitar get louder, I stop a moment and let the music wash over me. On a mission, I leave the bedroom and follow the sounds. The farther my footsteps take me, the louder the music gets. Once I find myself standing flush against an exquisite set of double doors, I place my ear on the corner, hoping to amplify the music more. I recognize the song, “Bother” by Stone Sour. However, the voice singing is deeper than what the lead singer, Corey, belts out.

The music relaxes me. The tension in my shoulders eases away, and I sway my hips slightly along with the tune. The extra movement pushes the doors to open, and I go flying headfirst through them. My hands reach out to grab imaginary objects, and my arms swing through the air. When I land on my hands and knees, I look up. Lucas smiles down at me. The only thing covering his naked body is a guitar.

“You’re naked!” My voice screeches like a five-year-old girl who just saw a bug, and I close my eyes as tightly as possible. Initially, I’m mortified. However, before I know it, I open one eye and then the other. Excitement quickly takes its place; my tongue slides out and across my bottom lip.

Lucas lets out a loud husky laugh. “Well, if I’d known you would get on your hands and knees for me, I would’ve started playing hours ago.” He raises an eyebrow. “I’m not naked, see.” He waves his hands in front of him.

“So help me, Lucas, if this is some kind of ploy to get me to see your business, I’ll never forgive you,” I tease, hoping he isn’t lying.

Most women would love to do just that, although I’m not ready to see all of him this morning. He moves the guitar from his lap, revealing a pair of khaki cargo shorts perfectly hiding his “business”.

Lucas bends down and scoops me up with one arm. I squeal as my body lands onto his lap. His chest vibrates; he’s laughing at me.

He shakes his head and mumbles, “My business?” Then, he throws me onto the center of the bed. As I’m about to protest, all the humor disappears from his face. “What exactly do you remember about last night?” His mouth sets into a thin line. He inches closer to the box spring. “You were really messed up.” Grief floods my body, to the point of making bile rise in my throat. My thoughts travel all over the place. I swore I would never let myself come within reach of that point again. I swallow the sour taste and attempt to recall the events of last night once more.

Dream-like bits and pieces of images flash through my head. My breath becomes labored.
One, two, skip a few, ninety-nine, a hundred.
“I remember punching you. Why? What else happened?”

Lucas chuckles, but his smile doesn’t spread across his face. He sits beside me and thoughtfully takes my hand in his. He lightly grazes his lips against the back of my hand, instantly relieving the anxiety that’s brewing within.

“Relax. Don’t hold your breath, okay?” He touches my cheek and brings my chin up to meet his gaze. “I don’t need you passing out in my bed and Dartanya finding you. She would kill me. Trust me, she’s already threatened,” he says with a devious smile as he releases my face. “You sort of told me you want to get married and have all my babies, for that matter. You also told me you thought I was hotter than toe socks on a rooster?” He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, waiting for my response.

“I did what? Fuck my life. I...Well, I don’t know what to say. I’m...umm…sorry? I can’t believe I did that.”

I need to look anywhere other than his eyes. I glance down at the enormous black t-shirt I’m wearing along with a pair of basketball shorts. A whole new wave of panic washes over me. I’m not wearing my dress from last night. My brow beads with droplets. “I have a question.” Nervously, I wipe the sweat from the back of my neck. “How did I get in these clothes?” I raise a hand up and down in front of me.

Lucas gives me an innocent look. However, his eyes are filled with mischief. “Well, now, that is the question.” He pauses, and a slight growl releases from his chest. Then, he clears his throat. “Okay. Fine...Maybe you didn’t say you wanted to marry me and have my babies, and maybe you were more asleep than drunk. I may have made that up, but I couldn’t make up a statement about a rooster in toe socks, not even if I tried. I think you were dreaming. You fell asleep in the cab, and I carried you to the couch when we walked through the door. You just kept waking up and complaining of smelling like a bar. So...I...” His cheeks flushed, and he looked at the ceiling.

“You…what?” I cover my face with my hands, hiding my shocked expression. Only a few seconds pass before I cave and remove one hand to study him. He runs his hands through his hair. Then, we both straighten our posture.

“I changed your clothes for you. I thought you were awake because you kept talking to me.” Lucas pauses, but he keeps his eyes pasted on the ceiling. “Well, since it seems we are playing Twenty Questions, you may as well make yourself comfy.” He clears his throat again. “We’re going to be here for a while. I’ll get us a cup of coffee. I have a couple of questions of my own. Do you take cream or sugar?”

“No, black,” I say with a soft smile. He gets up, but I stop him with my hand. “Lucas, can you give me your word on one thing?” He nods. “Never lie to me again.” I pinch my lips together and hold my breath, waiting for his answer.

“I can do that, Cricket, but only if you promise the same.”

I nod my head agreeing and releasing the air from my lungs.

“Then, you’ve got a deal. We’ll do it.” He winks at me as he leaves the room.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have issues with a stranger peeling my clothes from my body. I don’t care if I was drunk or half-asleep. The only consolation would be that he’s hot, and he did have good intentions. Anyhow, arguing with him about this wouldn’t change anything. Dar has often told me about the crazy things I do and say while I’m asleep. I sigh and fall backward onto the mattress. At least my panties are cute.

There is something about Lucas that attracts me to him. I find myself spending too much time thinking of him, and it scares the hell out of me. I try to come up with any excuse making it okay to care for him. I can’t. I shouldn’t like him. Definitely not as much as I do. I only met him two days ago. One thing is certain; this isn’t normal. Maybe I could plead temporary insanity, which would explain everything.

Lucas returns, carrying two mugs of steaming coffee. He sits on the bed beside me and places his coffee cup onto the nightstand. Shifting, he hands me my cup.

I close my eyes, inhaling the comforting aroma. “Mmmm, this is delicious. What kind is it?” I ask after taking a sip. The warm liquid soothes my dry throat. “It has to be one of the best I’ve ever tasted.” I take another lingering sip, savoring the flavors. “White chocolate and caramel?”

“It’s caramel macchiato with my special ingredients. Pretty amazing, don’t you think?” He smiles shyly, reaching for his mug before taking another sip. He runs his fingers along the rim of the mug, and I can’t help feeling jealous of the ceramic beneath his fingertips. “Why did you hit me last night?” He looks down into his cup, like it has the answers he’s seeking. “You kept murmuring ‘no’ in your sleep. I wasn’t sure if I should wake you or not. Maybe I should have, but hell, I didn’t know.” He exhales and turns his head toward me, letting his hazel eyes roam my face.

“Next question, please.” I have no intention of answering that anytime soon, or ever. Lucas continually smirks at me in between sips of his coffee, like he knows some inside joke.

He moves his back up against the headboard and stretches out his legs along the bed, matching my position. He sits back, chewing his bottom lip and sighing loudly. My breathing catches as I exhale.

“I’ll accept that answer for now, but I wish you’d eventually tell me. So, for the next question, what exactly do you find sexy about poultry in toe socks? Freud would’ve loved to have you in one of his case studies.” He laughs, instantly causing my skin to turn a brilliant shade of scarlet.

I giggle nervously. “I don’t find anything ‘sexy about poultry’, as you put it, in socks. It’s something my friends Michael, Lynn, and I used to say when we were younger. Michael and I were maybe, hmm, fifteen, at the time, which would have made Lynn thirteen. Michael and Lynn are brother and sister.” I nod, reassuring myself of the math I did subconsciously inside my mind. “Now, it’s my turn. What question should I ask first?” I tap my nose with my index finger, thinking. “I have it! What the hell do you do for a living? Are you part of the mob, or do you do male escorting?”