Page 79 of A Light in the Darkness
“What are you doing? You passed the turn for my house.”
“We’re not going to your house.” Rich says, like that wasn’t already obvious.
Next to me, Michael places a steady hand just above my knee, prompting me to look up at him.
“It’s okay,” he promises. “You’re alright. No one’s going to hurt you here.”
“I’ll hurt you if you don’t take your fucking hand off her.” Remy spits, reaching over me to shove Michael’s hand off of me. There was no heat in Michael’s gaze, no interest for me, nothing sinister about his touch. Something about Remy’s possessiveness makes my chest swell, but I don’t know if it’s in a good way or not.
“What’s your ploy, Kent? To traumatize my girlfriend some more?”
Girlfriend.
It’s a weird word. It doesn’t sound right on his tongue, in the air, put out into the universe. It doesn’t seem to encompass any of the complicated nature of whatever exists between us.
“Christ, Boudreaux. You really are selfish, you know? This isn’t about you or her. It’s about taking responsibility for your actions. We’re going to the hotel.”
“No.” Remy’s voice is firm, leaving no room for argument, but I don’t think the men in the front seat care about what he wants right now.
“Jump out if you want,” Rich says, shrugging his shoulders a little. “But unless your girl is willing to follow you, she’ll be coming with us.”
“Dimitri told me what you did to Wes,” Michael says, leaning toward me just enough so that I know his words are for me, and yet keeping enough space that Remy doesn’t lunge across my lap to choke him. “I’ve already warned everyone not to fuck with you, you beautiful badass.”
Something about the way he says it makes me laugh, letting the anxiety peel back a little. I don’t have a clue what their plans are or where we’re going, but when we pull up to the clearly abandoned hotel, it’s not what I expected.
Despite the desolate parking lot and the sign that’s been cleared of its last message, it’s not a creepy sort of abandoned. In fact, the lush green mountains situated behind the building make it almost impossible to imagine anything nefarious going on here. But I know that beauty and darkness are not mutually exclusive, so when Rich cuts the engine, I still feel the slightest sense of unease. Particularly when Remy crosses his arms and refuses to get out of the car.
I’ve never seen him act like a child before, and as confused as I am by whatever the hell is going on, it’s almost amusing.
“They need you, Rem.” Michael says, opening his door and sliding out of the backseat.
“I’m done being needed.” Remy snaps, turning to glare at Kent through the open door. “I told you that. I came here to help you because I owe you, but—”
“You owe them!” Kent growls, pointing to the building behind him. I follow the direction he indicates, confused, and catch the movement just as a curtain snaps back into place. The movement makes me stiffen, at first, and then I notice Michael offering me a hand.
It’s mad to follow the man I barely know, but Remy’s behavior seems more petulant than fear-based. I’m already sliding his way by the time Remy reaches out to try and stop me.
“Claire! Don’t go in there.”
“What’s inside?” I ask, though I guess the better question would bewho’sinside. Remy hesitates a moment too long, so I slide the rest of the way out of the car, letting Michael help me avoid the mud puddle from a recent rainstorm.
Kent and Rich are already headed to the side of the building, with Michael and I following not far behind, when I hear Remy,cursing as he slams his door shut. He’s at my side in a matter of seconds.
“I don’t want you to see this.” He tells me, catching my wrist so that I have to turn to face him.
“To see what?” I challenge, even though I somehow know he isn’t going to answer that. I shake him off and close the distance to Michael, following him through the industrial looking door that the other two already passed through.
I expected an abandoned building to be dark inside, but we enter into something like a kitchen, which is not only well-lit, but it’s clearly not abandoned.
Elaine looks up just as I recognize her, and the look on her face makes me laugh now that I know she wasn’t the one responsible for poisoning me last year.
“Oh!” I’m glad she’s not chopping anything this time, because she drops the potato and the peeler, letting them clatter to the Formica countertop. For the first time, Elaine wraps me in her arms, pulling me against her chest. “Oh, thank God,” she sighs.
“Elaine.” I say by way of greeting. I let myself ease in her arms, appreciating her warm scent as whatever she was cooking clings to her. It’s an almost maternal embrace she sweeps me into, crushing my ribcage as she holds me tightly. When she pulls back, she studies my face, my body, without judgement or pity, both of which I appreciate her for.
“I’d like to talk to you later,” she says, patting me gently on the cheek. “After dinner, maybe? If that’s okay?”
I don’t know if we’re staying for dinner, but I idly hope so. The scent of garlic permeates the air, and the sizzling coming from the stovetop promises comfort food that I didn’t even realize I was craving. I nod at her, and she turns to get back to her work, clearly pleased about something.
