Chapter Twenty-Six #2
Two separate grand staircases highlight the upstairs landing. This isn’t a house! It’s a fucking mansion! A mansion. I turn and look at Caine as he removes his boots.
Momentarily stunned into silence, I remove mine and place them by Caine’s.
It’s the giggles I hear first, then Caine drops my hand, running toward the kitchen where he hides behind a giant island.
I’m left standing here, everyone turning to look at me as I walk into the foyer.
“Hi!” I say with a goofy wave and stupid, pensive look on my face.
The eyes that look in my direction aren’t familiar. I don’t recognize anyone. My mouth goes dry, and my hands feel clammy.
A little boy walks up to the other side of the island and looks at me with a frown.
“Daddy, there’s a strange lady in Nana’s kitchen!” he yells in alarm.
Then I hear a loud roar, and the little boy drops to the ground in a flurry of giggles.
“Uncle Caine!” the little boy squeals as a man I don’t know walks in from the side of the kitchen from an entryway I can’t see. He’s tall, slim, with blonde hair, blue eyes.
I hear whispering.
“Who is she?”
“Do you know who that is?”
The man staring at me immediately reminds me of Cody, and my throat begins to close in on itself. He just stares at me with a scowl. Then, he crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t want me here. That’s what my brain is telling me.
I stand perfectly still. I’m petrified. My heart is pounding erratically, and my head starts to spin.
Slowly, I take a step back, then another, when a beautiful woman with dark hair walks in and stands beside the Cody lookalike. She tilts her head at me. It’s like it’s all happening in slow motion.
Giggles, chatter, people whispering about me. So many people. So many faces. Why are they all staring at me?
I thought this was a family dinner, but the faces I see, I don’t recognize a single one. Heat seeps up my chest and neck, and I know I must be bright red.
I take another step back and turn and hightail it to the door.
“Caine!” yells a female voice I don’t recognize.
A squeal of children’s laughter echoes against the walls as I grab my shoes. My hands are shaking as I bend to put them on. But then I’m lifted off the ground, one hand around my back, the other under my knees.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Caine asks. His smile drops, and his eyes roam my face. “Sweetheart?”
What is happening to me?
“I don’…” Then everything goes black.
“Get her on the sofa!” a woman yells.
I’m cocooned against a solid chest when I open my eyes. The world is spinning, and I’m forced to close my eyes again as the nausea hits me.
“Is she drunk?” I hear someone ask.
I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman; the voice sounds far away.
“No, Franny, she hasn’t had anything to drink at all,” Caine barks. “Everyone out!” he yells as I feel myself settle on something cool, soft yet firm. “I said, get out!” Caine bellows again.
I feel myself wince at his obvious anger.
“Here’s some water and ginger ale,” a deep male voice says.
“I thought this was supposed to be a family dinner?” Caine barks.
“Well, you know your mother,” the man says.
I open my eyes and see Franklin, but the room spins again, and I have to shut my eyes. Something’s very wrong with me.
“She’s awake,” I hear Franklin say.
I feel a hot hand on my face. He’s too hot! I’m too hot.
“Sweetheart?” Caine says. “Can you drink some ginger ale, baby?”
He places the bottle at my lips, and I take a sip and then another. “I should have made you eat,” he chastises himself.
“Son, I’m going to get a thermometer,” Franklin says.
“I don’t feel so good,” I whisper as a random chill moves through me.
“You look pale; your lips have no color,” Caine says softly, tracing my lips with his fingertips. “Is it the party?” he asks.
I want to giggle, but my head is pounding. I open my eyes and notice the lights are dim in here.
“It didn’t help, but I think I may have the flu or something. I don’t think I made a very good first impression,” I whisper, shutting my eyes again.
I don’t know if I could feel more embarrassed. Besides fainting, I definitely didn’t come across as friendly.
“They can fuck themselves,” Caine mutters. “You’re not feeling well, they’ll get over it.”
“Can I have more ginger ale?” I ask, raising my arm and trying to sit up.
My arms feel like they weigh a million pounds all of a sudden, and the room begins to spin as I sit up. My stomach lurches and twists.
“Hey, stay down,” Caine says, wrapping an arm around me.
“I’m gonna be sick,” I choke as sweat breaks out over my upper lip.
Caine jumps up and grabs a waste bin and places it at my face just in time for me to turn on my side and empty the contents of my stomach.
The mortification hits me hard when Caine combs back my hair, and I hurl again.
“Call Kyle,” I whisper between episodes. “See if something’s going around.”
Caine grabs his phone and calls, placing it on speaker just as I heave again.
“Did she dump you already? So, you called me drunk and puking?” Kyle asks with a chuckle as he answers the phone.
“It’s not me, asshole. Come to my parents, Mikayla isn’t well, she’s shaking, throwing up, white as a ghost,” Caine says.
“I’m on my way!” Kyle says, his tone all business.
“I meant for you to just get medical advice,” I whisper, surprised by Caine’s alarm.
But I don’t have the strength to argue. I close my eyes again as Caine places the ginger ale against my lips. I take a few more sips.
I must drift off because I’m jarred awake by the sound of the door opening.
Cool hands touch my face, and I know they aren’t Caine’s. They’re not rough, not familiar.
“Hi Mikayla,” Kyle says quietly. “Can you open your eyes for me?” he asks. His voice is soft and kind.
I open my eyes.
“Can I ask you a few questions?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
My entire body aches, and I shiver. I notice a blanket is draped over me and cuddle into its softness.
“When did you start to feel unwell?” he asks.
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly, my voice gruff and scratchy.
“Can you elaborate?” he asks.
I blush, my eyes darting to Caine, who stands worriedly against the wall.
My eyes move about the room. I must be in a den or study or something.
The bin next to me is clean. And even though I feel like absolute shit, my heart swells a little as my eyes return to the handsome man brooding in the corner.
“This morning, maybe last night? I just feel sore.”
“I see, you felt sore?” Kyle asks.
Looking at him now, I see the bemusement on his face.
“Don’t,” Caine warns. “Not the time.”
“Sorry,” Kyle says quickly. “How about any other symptoms?”
“I wasn’t hungry at all today. I got a little dizzy on the walk over here but thought that was because I didn’t eat,” I reply.
I’m surprised by the flash of anger I see in Kyle’s eyes as he turns his face to Caine.
“You didn’t even buy her breakfast or lunch?” he barks out.
I shut my eyes from the loud gruffness of his voice.
“Shh,” I whisper. “Offered, wasn’t hungry,” I whisper in his defense, but it’s weak and without conviction.
Kyle opens a bag and waves what I assume is a thermometer over my head. It beeps, and his already deep frown somehow grows even more intense.
“How high?” Caine asks.
“One-o-three,” Kyle says. “I need you to get her to the clinic,” Kyle says.
“I’m guessing viral infection, but I’ll take some swabs when we get there.
My clinic has two rooms for acute care. The nearest hospital is over forty-five minutes away.
I have all I need to treat you once we get to the clinic, okay?
” Kyle places a cool hand on my cheek. “Let’s get the fever down and figure out what bug you’ve got,” he adds, closing up his bag.
I move to sit up, but Caine is right there to stop me.
“I got you,” he says, lifting me up.
He carries me into the kitchen, where fewer people remain. I look at the clock and see it’s after ten o’clock. Talk about overstaying my welcome.
“Dad, I’m gonna borrow your truck. I’m taking Mikayla to the clinic,” Caine says.
My brain is in a fog as I look around. I feel both weighed down and as though I’m floating, which makes no sense. I begin to wonder if maybe the fever is making me a bit delirious. Maybe I’d imagined the Cody look-alike and his angry glare. I don’t see him now.
“I’ll make you and Kyle a plate for dinner and bring it to the clinic,” a beautiful woman with chestnut-colored hair says. She’s so regal. Her posture is perfect, and she has the kindest green eyes.
I could picture wings extending from her body and her flying around like a fairy. That’s what she looks like, a fairy.
“Aren’t you just the sweetest thing,” she says with a kind smile and soft hand on my cheek.
I don’t know why she says that, but her cool touch is soothing. I close my eyes. I begin to shiver. I can’t decide if I’m hot or cold, so I burrow into Caine’s chest, searching for his warmth as he places me in the front seat of a huge truck.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” the fairy says before Caine shuts the door.
Once again, I drift to sleep, but now with the image of a pretty fairy fluttering around me.