Page 38 of Betsy
“Every day I’d spend time with Lucifer. Talk to him calmly instead of yelling at him like my mom and brother did. I’d offer him treats even though he’d try to bite my fingers off for my efforts. It took time, but eventually Lucifer began to realize I didn’t mean him any harm. That I wasn’t scared of him, and he couldn’t chase me away with his bad attitude. I’d just keep showing up with treats. Proving that I could be trusted.”
She set the spoon beside her cup, then lifted the brim to her lips to take a sip, still pretending to ignore me.
“My brother thought it was funny, naming that cat Lucifer, but do you know what Lucifer means?”
I didn’t expect her to answer and she didn’t.
“The name means light bringer, and that cat brought so much light into my life. For a long time, he was my best friend.” I pushed off the door frame and made to walk past her, but I stopped at her back and bent until my head was next to hers. “You can hiss and scratch all you want, but you don’t scare me, Betsy Vargas. One day, you’ll see that I’m not going to hurt you and that you can trust me.” With that, I walked to the berthing area without looking back.
15
Betsy
Who did he think he was, comparing me to a cat? A cat named Lucifer, no less. Not that I’d never been called a she-devil, or even worse for that matter. But still.
The water in the tiny bathroom that was barely large enough to turn around in shut off, the pipes going quiet. In silent agreement—because, really, none of us wanted to have that pleasant conversation—we’d all decided to use the campground facilities for our toilet needs. (We’d stopped at a drive-through Mexican place for dinner the night before. Beans plus a questionable mixture of real beef and filler plus a metal cylinder of confined space did not equal a recipe any of us wanted to experience. No thank you to steeping in noxious fumes.) But this campground didn’t offer showers, so it was the bus’s vertical coffin or nothing.
Asher had stepped in with a towel and a folded stack of fresh clothes ten minutes prior. I’d been tempted to slink around the exterior of the bus and find where the hook-ups were and do a little sabotaging, but I restrained myself. Let him have his hot or cold water. I’d be lukewarm. Neutral. Switzerland.
At least on the outside.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected me. Howheaffected me. If I didn’t give him a reaction, he’d grow bored. Lose interest. Lose hope.
Which was exactly what I wanted.
A niggle of doubt tried to worm its way through my defenses. Like water seeping past cracks in a dam. Ah! I needed to prod my internal beaver to get to work and plug those holes,rapída. Gnaw down a tree, drag it to my resolve, and shove it inside until there was a water-tight seal that nothing could make it past.
Mutterings drifted through the walls and door, but the words were muffled enough to not be understood.
I’d become attuned to Asher. Where he was at any given time (it was a bus, after all), how he smelled (I blamed it on the jacket), and the small nuances in his facial expressions whenever there was a slight change in his mood. His eyes, for instance, dimmed when he spoke of his family. While he maintained a smile, it was a straight slash across his face. Comparatively, whenever he talked about music, whether about the songs he was writing or a chord progression or even just talking to or about his bandmates, the left side of his mouth hooked higher up on his cheek, giving him the lopsided grin I’d noticed the first day I’d met him.
Just from the low timbre of his muffled mutterings, I could hear his exasperation. Funny. He’d never taken that tone with me, even though I’d given him plenty of opportunity to feel frustrated.
The knob on the bathroom door turned. I focused on the book in my hands, the letters all blurring together. I’d been attempting to read for the past fifteen minutes but had only managed to settle my gaze on the first paragraph three times before being overtaken by my thoughts once again. I just couldn’t focus. Not on figuring out whodunit in my cozy mystery, anyway.
The door swung open and out stepped Asher.
Shirtless.
My fingers tightened on the edges of my book. It wasn’t until my eyes started to sting that I realized I’d stopped blinking. I tore my gaze away from his lean form and sculpted muscles.
Way to stay unaffected, Bets.
Traitorous thrumming pulse. Disloyal shortened breaths.
He walked past where I sat on my bunk, ignoring me in my dumbfounded state. If he’d glanced over, thrown me a wink, I probably would’ve pounced on him faster than a leopard falling from a tree onto a gazelle. No, not likethat. The pound of flesh I’d have taken out of his hide would’ve been a verbal chewing out. As it was, he didn’t even seem to realize I was there. He held a wet shirt in his hands. Must’ve fallen on the bathroom floor and soaked up water from the shower.
He turned his back to me.
I bit the inside of my cheek.¡Caray!I’d never in my life considered the back a particularly attractive part of the body. Boy had I been wrong. It wasn’t that Asher’s shoulders were especially broad. It was more like everywhere I looked I could see definition and nuanced strength. A controlled sort of vibrancy that rippled across his skin every time he moved. An explosion of power waiting to be unleashed.
He picked up a shirt and threaded his arms through the appropriate holes. His chin turned toward me and he paused.
I pulled my book in front of my face, more to hide behind than anything else. Asher couldn’t witness any of the instability swirling along in my bloodstream at that moment. He couldn’t get ideas about me getting ideas. Not until I got ahold of the emergency switch and shut this baby down.
Fabric rustled, and I pictured him pulling his shirt over his head. The sound of his suitcase zipper closing came next. The carpet on the aisle muffled his footfalls, but I could still hear his steps. Then three long, slender fingers closed over the top of my book. I held my breath. He took the book out of my hands, but instead of lowering my paperback shield, he turned it upside down. Er, right side up?
Had I really been holding it wrong this entire time?
