Page 75 of Make Me Sin (Bad Habit 2)
In the rental car A.J. picked up while Dr. Mendelsohn examined me, I sit huddled in the passenger seat, blinking into the brilliant morning light. I’m swimming in A.J.’s hoodie, wrapped in his scent. My cardigan was destroyed in my fight with Eric, and since I didn’t have any other clothes at the hospital, A.J. handed over his hoodie without a word when it was time for me to get dressed.
Luckily he’d been wearing a leather jacket over it, so he has something to leave the hospital in, too.
I’m trying not to think about the fact that his chest is bare beneath the leather. Honestly, I’m trying not to think about much at all, because if I do, my head will probably explode.
I’ve seen my face—glimpsed in the bathroom mirror as I dressed—and it’s not pretty. My eye is swollen, livid purple-and-black bruises have blossomed across my cheek, jaw, and temple, and Dr. Mendelsohn was onto something when he asked if Frankenstein did the stitches in my cheek. They’re black, irregular in size, snaking a few inches down the crest of my cheekbone. My father promised he’d schedule a consultation with a plastic surgeon, but I can’t think about anything past this moment.
I don’t dare.
We stop at the rusted chain-link fence bisecting the dirt road that leads to A.J.’s place. He gets out, unlocks it, and pushes one side open. He returns and drives past the gate, then gets out again and locks it behind us.
I notice the hole on the left side of the fence has been repaired. The glittering coil of barbed wire that tops it is new, too. I wonder if he had the fence fixed the day after I showed up unannounced here, but decide not to ask. There’s only so much reality I can take right now.
A.J. parks the rental car behind the hotel, and for a moment I forget everything.
Drifts of brown leaves decorate the cracked bottom of a cavernous, empty swimming pool. Weeds have broken through the faded tiles of two enormous mosaic fountains that flank it. An incredible, thick arbor of waving purple wisteria decorates the crumbling remains of the marble colonnade that runs the length of the back of the property, curving around in a huge semicircle from the east and west ends of the building to enclose the pool and formal gardens, which are now nothing but a tangle of native shrubs and wild roses.
At the far side of the pool are clustered elaborate, old-fashioned ironwork tables and chairs partially consumed by creeping vines. Toppled statues, green with moss, are being reclaimed by the land. A family of deer munches on tender shoots of grass in a patch of dappled sunlight, oblivious to our presence.
In spite of the hotel’s gentle ruin and its obvious abandonment, I don’t find it as creepy as I did when I first came. Now I can see that into everything is imbued a sense of forlorn, forgotten magic, as if lonely wood fairies inhabit the wild gardens and empty rooms, just waiting for someone to invite them out to play.
This place, I think. This place is enchanted.
A.J. catches me staring. He looks around, following my gaze. “I bought it because it looks how I feel.”
I try to decipher his expression, the hollow tone in his voice. “Alone?”
He shakes his head. “Corroded. Decayed.”
My heart twinges. I reach out and take his hand. At my touch, he turns to me, startled. “It’s not corroded. It’s beautiful. It’s bewitched.”
He looks at me a long, silent moment. “Yes. Bewitched,” he agrees in a murmur, and I don’t think he’s talking about his hotel. I flush and look down at our entwined fingers.
He clears his throat. “I’ll stop by your place and get some clothes for you later. And anything else you need. Just make me a list. Right now you need to rest.”
“I need to call the girls. Let Grace and Kat know—”
“Already done. I told them you’re staying with me, and that you’ll call them every day. And I called your shop, too. They’re not expecting you back for a week.”
His voice is rough. When I look up at him, he’s gazing at me with hooded eyes. “A week?” I repeat.
He nods.
A week. Alone with A.J. for a week. I think about it, considering what needs to get done at work, swiftly calculating if I can take that much time off. I’ve never taken that much time off.
But the temptation to be with him is too great. Finally I just nod, because the fatigue is really starting to hit me and I can barely think anymore. I’ve been up all night, I’m sore as hell, and I look like I lost a twelve-round heavyweight fight.
But I didn’t; I won. I got away. It could have been so much worse, and I know I’m lucky. As adrenaline from the memory of what happened floods my veins, my hands start to shake. I still can’t believe it. How could Eric have done that to me? How could I have judged him so poorly? How can I ever trust myself to make a good decision again?
“Hey.”
I look up to find A.J. staring at me with fire in his amber eyes. He takes my chin in his hand. “Don’t go there. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Grace tried to warn me. I didn’t listen.”
His fingers tighten on my chin. “You did not. Do anything. Wrong.”
His tone makes it clear he’s not going to let it go until I agree with him. I nod, until I remember that Grace has also warned me against A.J., and I’m miserable all over again. I put my face into my hands.
