ASHES by R. J. Lewis

Author:R. J. Lewis [Lewis, R. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-07T18:00:00+00:00

Twenty

Liv

It was a shit-show the next day. The rain hadn’t let up. I could hear it slam against the roof. I realized very quickly when I woke up in bed alone that the day was not going to end up with us wed. Not with how hectic it was out there. Shane confirmed it when he delivered my breakfast, stating a change of plans. I was relieved he didn’t question why I was out of my room, but he did stop to wearily look at me in Reaper’s bed, dishevelled looking and still half naked. After I’d eaten, he escorted me out of the room and into my other one where I quickly used the toilet and brushed my teeth.

“We don’t have to go back to his room,” Shane tried telling me. “I can fetch you dry blankets and you can stay here.”

“No,” I replied. “He’ll just come back to get me.”

I didn’t know if that was true, but it was an excuse Shane seemed to agree with. We returned to Reaper’s room where I slid back under the covers. Preoccupied with something else, Shane told me to stay until he returned, and he hadn’t returned for hours.

Lying in bed after breakfast and trying to get some more sleep in after that late night, I could hear the shouts all morning. Something had gone wrong. By noon, Reaper had come into the room, looking like he was fuming. Not at me, but at whatever it was that had gone wrong.

He kicked his boots off and paced the room, dripping water everywhere. There was mud smeared along his arms, like he’d been digging through the ground with his bare hands. I was under the covers in bed. I watched him as he paced, thunder rolling off him louder than the thunder that erupted from the sky. I was afraid to ask him what was wrong. He was scary when he was like this. Gone was the humour from last night, and the heat between us. He barely looked at me. I might as well have not been present. I kept quiet and unmoving, determined not to catch his attention. After he stopped pacing, he stood still with his hands on his hips, and that was when he noticed me. It seemed, by the light surprise in his eyes, he had forgotten I was there.

“You wanna go back to your room?” he asked, his voice tight with fury.

“No,” I answered quietly. I was comfortable, and warm, and I kind of liked being in his room for reasons he would never pry out of me.

He nodded once – maybe he was pleased? – and kept his distance, moving to where the door was. Without taking his eyes off me, he sat down on the ground next to it, back against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles. Whatever he was pissed about didn’t seem to bother him anymore, not when he was taking such interest in me.

“Talk,” he ordered, softly.

“About what?” I asked, taken off guard by his demand.

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