Bite Me Page 5
“I'm afraid so.”
Seffy straightened. “Well then, I apologize for wasting your precious time. I mean, let's face it, you're the one running out of it. I've got a whole 'nuther twenty-something to figure out why I'm getting screwed by this place you call a refuge.”
Seffy turned and strode out without a look back. She felt like kicking the guards who edged away as she burst out the main doors.
Her anger fueled her long walk back to her room.
Fenn knew a whole hell of a lot more than he was admitting. What was his deal? How could someone so weak continue to stand in her way? What power did he really wield over the compound and its residents?
Over her?
When she walked through the door of her room and saw Trent emerging from the bathroom with stiff movements, her anger dissolved to angst.
Grinding her teeth against the futility of her fury, she went to him and slid her arms around his waist.
His shirt was damp against his skin and drops of water fell from his hair drooping over his brow. She realized he must've had a difficult time drying off from a shower. “What are you doing up? You should be resting.”
“I'm tired of resting.” He pulled her close, kissing her eyelids, cheeks, then her lips.
Seffy leaned into his kiss, thankful for the warm welcome.
“You'll never guess where I was,” she said, coming up for air. “Well, actually since I only have about four different destinations available to me at any one time, you could guess. Anyway, I was at Fenn's, begging for him to let us go.”
His arms tightened around her.
“And of course he launched into all these reasons why we can't leave, the most bizarre of which is his newest theory—the Pink Net of Time—which got me thinking about hair nets and your theory that lunch ladies who wear hair nets are evil, so we definitely have a problem.”
Trent touched her face, his fingers resting against her jaw and throat, compelling her to stop and look at him.
She did, and noticed a strange light in his eyes as he regarded her.
He took a deep breath. “Sef...marry me.”
Chapter Four
“So what's so hush-hush about your talk with the blonde bimbo?”
Fenn leaned weakly against the couch cushions, passing a hand over his face. “She's not blonde anymore.”
Fiona collapsed onto the opposite couch and glared at him. “Oh, okay, so then what is her hair color, if you're paying that much attention?” Her voice went up a notch. “God, she makes me sick.”
“Fiona, I asked you to go out of the room to make her more comfortable, not to hide anything from—”
“What did she want?” she groused.
“What else? She wants to leave.”
“Hmm, what do you know? For once me and the skank want the same thing.”
He sighed. “She's not a skank, Fiona. I don't understand why you hate her so much.”
She leaned forward, her dark eyes flashing. “And I don't understand why you're always defending her!”
“Try and see it from her—from their point of view. None of them asked to be brought here. They just want to go home.”
“And you've held that up. We got what we needed when she and Trent went back—which ended up being mostly useless to us.”
He studied her mulish expression. “But they were sent to the wrong place.”
She snorted. “You think I had something to do with that? Eugene is the one who came up with the numbers, not me.”
Fenn closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Now, it's been taken out of our hands. And until we have all the equipment set up and calibrated exactly, we can't take a chance on rushing this. We can't get it wrong next time or we all pay.”
“Well, I'm doing my part, sweetie. But you? You seems to be slowing everything down and I think it has something to do with your little Seffy obsession.”
He sat up and looked at her, unable to mask his fatigue. “I can't control what you think, Fiona. But I can tell you this much. Seffy and her friends don't belong here.” Fenn closed his eyes again as pain shimmered through his bones. “They have to go back.”
***
Seffy stared at Trent, startled out of her anger and frustration. His face was flushed, his eyes glittering.
She reached up and skimmed the back of her hand along his uninjured cheek. Poor thing, he's delirious. Still, she couldn't deny the sweetness of his request. If only they were somewhere where it might mean something.
He tipped up her chin. “Well?”
Seffy hugged him gently, pressing her cheek against his chest, a thousand questions swirling in her overheated brain. It was probably best to humor him while he wasn't feeling well. “Okay.”
Trent pulled away slightly and looked down at her, his expression solemn. “On so many levels...we're not living in the real world here. And I don't want us to be happenstance. I want us to truly belong to each other. I want us to be real.”
She nodded, suppressing a new ache that this was anything but real. Trent knew there was no way they could actually get married. Heck, Trent wasn't the marrying type.
She certainly never went to Time-Travel School to graduate with a MRS degree. Besides, he knew she was upset about what went down with Gareth. She just wished his attempt at comfort had taken some other form.
Seffy touched his forehead. It was indeed hot. That, combined with the painkillers he was on, confirmed his loopiness. “Why don't we lie down?” she whispered.
He allowed her to lead him to the bed. Trent eased down onto the mattress, grimacing in pain. She helped him lay on his side, then cuddled up next to him. Seffy rested her hand on his chest, feeling the steady drumbeat of his heart beneath her fingers.
Trent covered her hand with his own. “I love you, Seffy.”
She swallowed back a lump in her throat and gazed up at him, cherishing the earnest look in his eyes, even if it was influenced a little by opiates. “I love you, too.”
His eyelids grew heavy after a moment. “I probably shouldn't have attempted a shower by myself. I think it wore me out.”
Seffy smiled, reaching up to touch his face with her other hand. “You should've waited for me to help you.”
“But it's no fun when I can't take advantage of the situation.” His eyes fluttered closed and in a few minutes, his breathing became even.
She watched him for a while, but the longer she stayed with him, the closer she was to tears. It was either cry or go insane. Seffy needed the distraction of action. How many more twists could she take? Gareth's violence, time nets, assassins, marriage proposals...
When Seffy was sure Trent was deeply asleep, she gently pulled her hand from his fingers and got off the bed. She bent down and brushed a kiss against his forehead.
As she tried to figure out what to do next, she realized her statement about four destinations was true. She was in a hidden compound with some seriously solid walls.
Her thoughts ran to the Light Room and she decided to check and see how far Trent had gotten with the cleanup.
As quietly as possible, she climbed up into the access point above his desk, then plugged in the lights to see if they came on. Nothing. Luckily, she knew how to get to the Light Room by memory now. She grabbed the flashlight Trent kept handy and made her way along the route.
The Light Room seemed so barren and sad in the stark, pale pink light without all the homey blankets and pillows. Dust motes swirled together in the humid air from a large box fan Trent had brought up at some point. What was directly under this floor? She'd have to remember to ask him. She touched the sub-flooring and noticed it was still damp.
Should she open the skylight to allow in fresh air? Seffy stared out the rectangle that was their only connection to the outside world. The sparkling pink sky had bands of deeper pink shimmering beneath the neon magenta sun.
How could something so beautiful hold her back? Net of time indeed.
Deciding to keep the skylight closed in
case it rained again, she glanced around the space one last time, knowing there was nothing for her to do here.
Seffy crawled to the edge of the room toward the tile that covered the lower residence room. She carefully lifted the tile and looked down, noticing a long orange extension cord from the fan led to an outlet in the room below. From her vantage point, she saw that Trent had been busy before running into the business end of a baseball bat. Folded tarps, cans of paint, and rollers in trays were ready to go.
Now to negotiate the climb down. She'd never done it without Trent's help. Seffy swung her legs over the opening, and gripping for dear life, slowly lowered herself down until she was hanging over the floor. Except the floor was further down than she remembered.
As her muscles creaked, she knew she had to make a decision. Seffy felt her fingers slipping and grabbed at the edge for a better grip. Her hand bumped a nail.
The sharp prick shocked her into letting go. She collapsed onto the floor in an undignified heap.
Crap. Trent was already injured enough without her trying to one-up him.
Seffy struggled to her feet and saw that her hand was bleeding. She went into the bathroom and flipped on the light. Turning on the tap, she watched her blood droplets leech into the running water until it was a pink swirl. Apparently poisonous could be pretty. I hope they don't drink recycled water around here. Or I just slipped the whole compound one major mickey.
She found a bandage in a first aid kit under the sink and wrapped up her finger. With that challenge overcome, she went back into the room and picked up a can of paint.
After reading the side of the can, she realized it wasn't actually paint, but some kind of sealant for wall and ceiling stains.
She'd once painted all the bedrooms in the house she shared with her friends in WeHo, and that had included three different colors and precise cutting in. She could easily handle painting bland off-white paint over bland off-white walls.
Trent would be impressed at her initiative.
***
Three hours later, she'd painted the affected ceilings of five rooms in the surrounding area. She thought it was odd that all of the doors were unlocked, but it served her purposes.
It didn't quite make sense how the rooms under the Light room were arranged. Some had a lot of staining, some had just a little, but there was no rhyme or reason. Of course, the compound was also loaded with secret rooms and passageways, so why was she surprised?
As she cleaned out the rollers—her arm muscles cramped and sore—she wondered again how to find out what room was directly beneath the bulk of the Light Room. The rooms she'd painted were just on the periphery. But at least there was no longer any visible water damage.
Once the rollers were clean and the tarps refolded, she released a sigh of accomplishment. See, she didn't have to wallow in her room, in her tears and pathetic misery. She could be proactive. Turn her lemons into a Lemon Drop martini.
Damn. A stiff drink sounds good right now.
As Seffy moved to leave the room, she suddenly remembered what they'd found in the closet last time. She slowly walked to the narrow door, mentally braced herself, and opened it.
The pink tracksuit still hung from the only hanger in the otherwise empty closet.
It was just so bizarre. Did she dare touch it? What kind of time-travel-slash-listening device potential did it have? Curiosity won out. She gingerly removed the hanger and brought the suit into the light.
Her breath hitched in her throat. The fabric was thin and cheap. The zipper pull was plastic. This was no Juicy Couture velour tracksuit in Bombshell Pink.
It was a no-name back-alley knock off.
***
Seffy made her way back to her room, swinging by the Commons room to grab a few novels to help her pass the time while Trent convalesced—and to get her mind off friendship betrayal and strange velour tracksuits while she was at it.
When she walked through her door, she found Trent struggling to get up from the bed.
He looked up, relief evident in his gaze. “I was just coming to find you.”
She smiled. “I guess I saved you the trip. How was your nap?”
Trent responded by squeezing his eyes shut, apparently dealing with some inner pain.
“Uh oh, do you have a headache? Your meds are in the bathroom. I'll just get—”
He raised his hand to stop her. “I can get them myself. I need to start moving around.”
Seffy watched him with concern. As he headed to the bathroom with painstaking steps, she glanced at the two novels she'd snagged off the top of the book pile. One featured a Fabio type dude sporting a mullet and some serious nipple perkage, draped by a swooning female with improbable red hair. Hmm. Not my usual reading choice.
Trent came out of the bathroom knocking back pain pills, chasing them with a can of grape soda. Seffy tossed the books onto the desk. She pinned a smile on her face as he caught her movements.
“What do you have there?”
“Oh, just a couple of books I came across. Goodness, the compound keeps a lot of dubious entertainment around. I had no idea.”
Trent approached her, set the soda can on the desk, and dipped his head for a kiss. Seffy tipped her head back to receive it fully, her arms stealing around his waist. Grape flavored kisses. This was entertainment she could seriously get into.
When he raised his lips, he regarded her with a tenderness that caused her own distinct perkage.
“So, did you go see the girls?”
The segue confused her. “You mean Lani and Addison? Yes, I...saw them.” Did he mean earlier?
“What was their response?”
Seffy frowned, trying to figure out what he meant. “Response...to what?”
His brows arched. “Didn't you tell them that we're getting married?”
Her mouth fell open. Oh. He's still on that. She closed her mouth and thought hard. “Um, no I didn't mention it.”
“Why not?” His frown was followed by a rush of color to his face. “God, is it because you're embarrassed by me?”
“No!” she said quickly. “Honestly, Trent, I thought you were...I mean I assumed you were, you know, just trying to cheer me up.” She studied his reaction as a sickening dread filled her gut.
“Sef, I proposed marriage to you.”
“Ah...” She closed her eyes for a moment, too confused to take in the import of his words. “Well, uh, I guess I didn't take you seriously. I mean, you felt feverish and you're on pain meds.”
He stared at her, looking at least as stunned as she felt.
She made an apologetic face. “So, you didn't mean it, you know, as a pity proposal?”
“What the hell is that?”
His anger surprised her. “Well...”
Trent ran his hand through his hair, then winced at the effort. “God, Seffy, sometimes—” He blew out a breath. “There's no such thing as a pity proposal. Guys do not flippantly ask girls to marry them, trust me!”
She dropped her arms from his waist, becoming cognizant that she'd completely blown it. But that didn't eclipse the bizarre nature of his request. Why here? Why now?
He shook his head in obvious frustration. “I wanted to ask you in a special place, but consider where we are; you've been almost or thoroughly killed in most of the rooms we frequent. Plus it's freezing on the roof and the Light Room smells moldy.” He stared at her in baffled fury. “Or is this because I'm not Michael Bay?”
Seffy took a moment to consider his words—and collect her bewildered thoughts. “Sweetheart, I apologize that I didn't realize you were serious, but since things are already at a mushroom cloud stage of awkwardness, I'm going to ask why marriage suddenly? Why not just leave things as they are?”
His annoyed expression told her she hadn't helped. “I told you why. Do you remember what I said?”
She touched his chest. “Yes, but Trent we don't have social security cards, birth certificates, I mean it wouldn't even be legal.”
Seffy suddenly realized this was something he really wanted. The fact that it was a belated realization sucked. She didn't have a clue how to redeem the moment. Her heart thudded as she regarded his bowed head. What harm was there in going along with this idea? Nothing would change either way. And right now, she just wanted him well.
Seffy slowly walked over to stand in front of him. When he raised his head, she swallowed, her stomach fluttering for some reason. “Is the offer still open?”
Trent took her hands, tugging her closer. “Do you remember what I said?”
“You mean the part about us truly belonging together? About wanting this to be real when nothing else is?”
“Yeah, that,” he said softly, his hands warm around hers. He licked his lips. “How's that sound to you?”
Her heart twisted at the look in his eyes. “I've never belonged to anyone before.” Seffy stepped between his knees. She wanted to smile, but was suddenly too overwhelmed.
“So...is that a yes?”
She leaned down and touched his lips with the barest kiss, her eyes burning. “That's a yes.”
Trent's arms came up around her waist. She cupped his face in her hands and let her lips tell him what words couldn't. It wasn't long before he got the message.
He coaxed her onto her back on the bed. As he hovered over her, preparing for another kiss, he paused, his forehead wrinkling.
“Seffy, why do you smell like oil-based paint?”
Chapter Five
Seffy watched Trent pull on a black shirt with difficulty the next morning. He didn't want help. His movements were slow and steady. When he tugged it all the way down, he looked up at her, his gaze mildly exultant.