19. Even More Tuesday #2
The words punched the air from Jamison’s lungs, and he clutched at them like a lifeline.
Over the last year, the headlines had blasted him as a pretty, airhead rich-boy who got away with murder.
At some point, he’d just accepted it. Maybe even internalized it himself.
But here was Dessa Blue McKinney, looking at him and seeing something more.
Her smile fell as AzRIO’s window front came into view, and she paused in the street, pulling away from him as she tried to stand up taller. “I guess I should try to get myself together. Arthur will be wanting that activity report.”
Jamison’s jaw dropped. “I hate to break this to you, Blue, but you are not going back to your desk. You’re concussed, bruised, and you literally just watched someone die.
You’re probably still in shock. Hell, I know I am.
” He ran a hand over his sore neck, the dregs of adrenaline the only thing moving him forward.
The reality of what had just happened hadn’t hit him yet, and he was dreading the moment it did.
Dessa’s eyes glazed over again, her lips wobbling. “But what am I supposed to do? Just go up to my apartment by myself and watch it behind my eyelids over and over again?”
Jamison paused, taking in her caved shoulders along with the mottled bruises already coloring her arms. Her legs shook beneath her, and he could feel the exhaustion pooling in him as well.
“I’ll stay with you if you want,” he said, voice quiet.
“As long as you rest. We can talk or watch a chick flick or whatever you need.”
Dessa swallowed hard, and their gazes met, something thick, warm, and irrevocable passing between them.
Finally, her lips quirked at the edges. “Definitely not what I thought,” she whispered.
She laced her arm through his again. “Okay, but let’s go in through the back so the others don’t see us.
I don’t know if I can handle their hovering right now. ”
Jamison let her lean on him as they made their way down the alley that led to the backstreet behind AzRIO. “Whatever you need. I’ve got you.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to feel that.” A trace of color that danced across Dessa’s cheeks warmed Jamison’s stomach, but his foreboding buzzed at the same time. He shoved it down. Not right now. “But who says I like chick flicks?” Dessa added.
Jamison feigned affront. “Who doesn’t like chick flicks?” His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he fished it out to find a message from Noah.
Noah: Hey dude, are you okay? Your coworkers or whatever are kind of freaking out, and Richard is straight up wailing. I can’t understand what he’s saying, but apparently someone’s dead?!
Huh. Was his cousin actually…worried about them? Maybe AzRIO was having a positive influence on him.
Jamison: Dessa and I are fine, but we’re taking the afternoon off.
Noah: Gotcha. Well I picked up Chinese for the office. I’ll leave yours and Dessa’s in the break room fridge for you.
Jamison: Thanks, man.
Noah: What can I say? I am a gift.
Jamison rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Dessa who was waxing poetic about the gender-neutral art of the romantic comedy.
They bickered up to the door, at which point they both went into stealth mode as they snuck up the stairs on stocking feet.
Once in the apartment, they managed to flop onto the couch and stream a metric binge-ton of warm, fuzzy sitcoms. Time flowed like a cool autumn breeze as they both pretended the afternoon had never happened.
Jamison made them ice packs from the freezer, and then Dessa dug a heated blanket out of a storage container.
Eventually, the baleful toll of the office door’s bell announced Arthur and Melba’s departure at the end of the day.
Afternoon faded into evening, and at last Dessa’s head began to nod on the couch.
Jamison paused the movie (a chick flick, because, seriously, who doesn’t like those?), and his gaze shifted to the clock.
While it was only ten, after the day they had, it felt like the middle of the night.
Dessa slumped over onto his shoulder, her breath evening out, and a fuzzy, comfortable satisfaction filled his chest, surfacing into a smile.
He thought of how’d she’d run after the Vampire without fear. Without question. Of how the Vamp had batted her aside almost effortlessly, and for the first time, he let it dawn on him how close he’d come to losing her. How close they’d both been to adding their lives to the body count.
The understanding of why she might’ve run away from this world with all its dangers hit him like a Florida downpour.
He brushed a lock of her blue-tipped hair away from her face, and the foreboding magic rippled beneath his skin again.
Was it because it sensed the danger she was in?
Because being around her was a danger to him?
Or was it because he was falling for her?
Which could very well be a danger in itself.
He turned over all three options carefully in his mind.
While his grandfather and Noah refused to discuss the curse, he and his dad were still trying to pinpoint how it worked. He knew he hadn’t loved Rachel, and she’d died anyway. Presumably because she’d loved him, though Jamison had a tough time believing that, considering the cheating evidence.
His stepmom had loved his dad, so that was consistent.
But the third girl was a wild card. While Noah’s dad was also a cursed consideration, to Jamison’s knowledge, no one had heard from the man in the last six years, much less set eyes on him.
On the other hand, Jamison and his dad hadn’t known the victim, but the whispers said she’d been seen a lot with Noah.
Though Noah refused to even acknowledge the situation.
That meant there were two possibilities: the curse killed women who romantically loved them or women they were in an established relationship with.
Nevertheless, the women had all died by blunt force trauma, which didn’t give off super magical vibes.
Jamison’s bet was that someone had been watching them and delivered on the curse’s promise themselves.
Which had him leaning toward the relationship explanation.
Either way, it seemed that it wouldn’t matter if Jamison fell for Dessa or not. Which was good, because, at this point, he didn’t think he could control his feelings. To avoid the curse, she just couldn’t fall for him. But that was a dream far too good to ever be true anyway.
Jamison gathered her up and moved her to the bed, pulling the worn blanket over her. He squeezed her hand before turning away, but she held on, her eyes fluttering open.
“Don’t leave, Jamison.”
He stopped, and his foreboding buzzed harder as a dangerous hope fluttered through him.
He should make an excuse to leave, any excuse.
Even if he desperately wanted to go down this path, he couldn’t deny that all his theories were just guesses.
But his mind was already rationalizing. After all, no one knew they were up here.
Still, if someone saw him leave in the morning, they’d probably assume—
“At least until I fall asleep again,” Dessa whispered. “Please.”
He smiled and squeezed her hand. “Of course, Blue.”
Jamison turned out the lights and tugged one of the soft chairs to her bedside. She reached out a hand for him, and only when their fingers were threaded did her eyelids fall shut.
He should’ve left.
He shouldn’t have taken the risk.
But Dessa’s warm hand and the fear in her voice trembled through him, waging war against his caution.
Against the foreboding still humming through his veins as the exhaustion of the day finally crashed over him.
He reasoned he would just close his eyes for a little while.
After all, as a witness, it was possible the Vampire might come after her.
But of course, he was lying to himself as he let his head fold onto the side of the bed.
Dessa hadn’t compelled him, and she would never need to, because he’d walked up to this cliff years ago when she’d smiled at him over the pages of her history book. Now that he’d stepped off, there was no stopping the fall.
So, Jamison fell asleep at Dessa’s bedside with her hands in his and the waves of foreboding crashing in his ears.