Trembling Read online

  Jude nodded. "All the same, I think I'm gonna go." He got up and walked out of my bedroom.

  "Be careful," I called after him.

  "I will," he called back. "Hi, Jason," he said as he walked through the hall. Jason didn't respond. "Oh," came Jude's voice, echoing through the house, "you must be Lilith. Nice to meet you."

  "Hi," she said. "You're Jude?"

  "Yeah. I'm actually on my way out."

  "Too bad," said Lilith.

  And then the apartment door opened and closed.

  I got up and went to my door. "Jason, come in here. I need to tell you something."

  His face was stone, but the rest of his body was twitching. His hands were clenched. His jaw was set.

  "Jason, come on," I said. "This is a big deal."

  He shook his head. "No," he said. "I don't want to hear it."

  "You don't even know what it is," I said.

  "I know what it is," he said.

  "No, you don't."

  He wouldn't look at me. "I worried," he said, "I always worried, because I knew that you kissed me while you were still dating Toby. But I told myself that didn't matter. I told myself that what we had was different than that. I told myself—"

  "You worried about what?" I demanded.

  "But you haven't changed," he said. "And right in our house."

  "I haven't changed?" I repeated, my voice steadily rising. "What the hell?"

  "I don't believe you, Azazel," Jason said quietly. "You have no idea what you mean to me. If I meant half as much to you as you do to me—"

  "What is your problem, Jason? Why are you leaping to conclusions? And how could you throw Toby in my face like that?"

  "You cheated on him with me," said Jason.

  "But he had been cheating on me for four years before that," I said.

  "But you didn't know that when you kissed me," he said. "And you said you loved him. You told me you loved him so many times. So many times that I almost believed it. I didn't think I had a chance."

  "Oh my God, Jason, how can you possibly think that about me?"

  "You have a pattern. You find your next boyfriend before you've dumped the other one. Well, I'm not going to give you the pleasure of dumping me, because I'm going to beat you to it. It's over, Azazel."

  What?!

  "You idiot!" I growled. "You stupid, stupid, idiotic bastard. How dare you say I have a pattern? I don't have a pattern. And if you were so worried about this, why didn't you tell me you were worried? How could you have such a low opinion of me that you would think that I would do anything behind your back? You said that I didn't know you, but you clearly don't know me. And how dare you even think about breaking up with me?"

  "Stop it," said Jason. "I just caught you—"

  "You caught shit!" I screamed. "Fuck you!" And I was so angry that I slammed the door in his face.

  I stood there fuming for several seconds. I could not believe that Jason thought such horrible things about me. And that he'd thought them for so long. He'd been waiting for me to be unfaithful to him, something he apparently thought I was capable of doing at any time for any reason. And I loved Jason more than I loved myself. I loved Jason more than life. I didn't want to imagine a world where Jason didn't exist. I was devoted to him, body, soul, and mind. And he thought—

  Wait. I loved him.

  I opened the door.

  Jason was still standing there, but he looked a little bewildered.

  "Listen," he said. "You and Jude were lying together in bed—"

  "Jude is gay!" I yelled. "Do I have to say it a thousand million times?"

  "Bullshit, he's gay," Jason shouted. "I see the way he looks at you. That guy is about as gay as the Rock."

  "He likes Britney Spears. And he paints his fingernails!"

  "So?" said Jason.

  "So, he's gay."

  Jason shook his head.

  "Oh, fine, whatever," I said. "The point is, nothing happened. Nothing happened at all. And if you'd shut up for a second and stop thinking stupid, horrible, unfounded things about me, I'd explain to you why he was even here in the first place."

  Jason pursed his lips. "Nothing happened?" he asked.

  "Nothing at all. He's gay!"

  Jason ran a hand through his hair. "I just thought—"

  "I know what you thought. You made that abundantly clear."

  "Well, it's not like I don't have reason, Azazel," he said. "You have to admit that."

  "Because of Toby?"

  "Yeah."

  "Toby is dead, Jason. How long do we have to live under the specter of Toby? And I never felt even a thousandth of the things I feel for you for Toby. I worship you, you dumbfuck. I can't live without you." I bit out the last words and folded my arms over my chest.

  Jason hung his head. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. He turned to walk away.

  "Where are you going?" I shrieked. "Mr. Sutherland tried to rape me!"

  Jason whirled, his eyes wide. "What?" he said. And there was an edge to his voice. A tinge of threat that terrified me.

  Chapter Eight

  aird92 (08:12:45): what the hell is going on? do u have anything to do with what happened to her?

  michaela666 (08:13:08): What happened?

  aird92 (08:13:22): sutherland. is he on our payroll or not?

  michaela666 (08:14:02): Oh, no. Don't tell me that he did something.

  aird92 (08:14:12): i thought he was under control. u said that he wouldnt mess everything up. or is this part of some plan u havent told me about?

  michaela666 (08:14:37): I should have known that bastard couldn't keep his dick in his pants. Dammit! Tell me everything.

  By the time Hallam got home, I was nearly frantic. Lilith had a cell phone, and she had Jason's number. We'd called it fifty times, but Jason wasn't picking up. Every time we called, it just went to voicemail. We left messages, each one more desperate, but it didn't seem to make any difference.

  Once I'd told Jason what had happened with Mr. Sutherland, he'd taken Hallam's gun from me and left the house. He'd been angry. He hadn't said anything, but I could tell from the way he walked.

  I'd begged him not to leave. I didn't want him trying to tangle with Mr. Sutherland. I didn't want Jason to get hurt. And I didn't like the look in Jason's eyes. It scared me. It reminded me too much of the look Mr. Sutherland had gotten in his eyes when he'd described strangling that girl named Linda. Jason had swept out of the house, fierce determination written all over his face. And . . . something else. He looked . . . I don't know. Insane.

  Lilith had been frightened too. "Jason's kind of intense, isn't he?" she'd said in a small voice.

  Hallam got back soon after Jason did. I feverishly filled him in on what had happened. He wasn't happy with me.

  "Azazel, if I'd thought there was a chance in hell that you'd go to see that man, I would have contacted you sooner," he said. "Liam Sutherland is a wanted criminal in seven different countries. He's a rapist and murderer, and he has powerful friends. How stupid could you be?"

  "I know," I said. "I'm sorry."

  When I told him that Jason had gone after Mr. Sutherland, Hallam got nearly as frantic as I was. "How could you let him go?" he demanded.

  "We tried to stop him," said Lilith.

  "We have to find him," Hallam said.

  The three of us piled into the car. We went to Mr. Sutherland's house. Hallam made us stay in the car, because he didn't have a gun. (I'd lost one in Mr. Sutherland's apartment, and Jason had the other one.) When he returned, he told us that the apartment had been broken into and searched, but that there was no sign of Jason or Mr. Sutherland.

  "Mr. Sutherland probably went on the run after I left," I said. "He knew that I knew where he lived."

  We checked the airport, to see if Mr. Sutherland was there. The airline personnel wouldn't disclose the names of passengers, and we weren't sure that Mr. Sutherland would even be travelling under his own name. Hallam bought a ticket for a plane, but he had to go thr
ough security to search the airport. It didn't take him too long. The Sarasota-Bradenton airport was not that large, and it didn't take too long to get through security. But they weren't there. Then we had to wait for Hallam to get a refund on his ticket.

  By this time, it was getting pretty late. We checked some bus stations, but couldn't find anything.

  "He might have just driven out of town, anyway," Hallam said. "Or maybe he went to Tampa to get a flight out."

  "Well, Jason probably didn't find him, did he?" I asked.

  Hallam didn't know. "Jason had a head start. Maybe he pulled him out of the airport. I don't know."

  Finally, we went back home. It was after midnight. Hallam and Lilith were both exhausted and went to bed. Hallam told me that I should do the same. I tried. I put on my pajamas and lay awake in the dark. But I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop worrying about Jason. Just because I'd been able to get away from Mr. Sutherland didn't mean that he would. I'd mostly been lucky. A few good shots. And Mr. Sutherland had underestimated me. He'd thought I was an easy mark. I didn't know how much of a match he'd be for Jason.

  And even if Jason didn't get hurt, what if he . . . ?

  I didn't know why it bothered me so much. But the wild look in Jason's eyes when he'd left the apartment was just scary. I didn't know why Jason got like that. Why he felt that he had to protect me so much. Why he felt the need to punish anyone who hurt me.

  The hours crawled by. It was dark outside. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, squeezing my eyes shut every time an image of Jason broken and bleeding appeared in my head. But it didn't work, because I could see the images even with my eyes closed. Nothing worked.

  At around four in the morning, I heard the door to the apartment open. I jumped out of bed and raced into the living room. Jason stood in the living room in the darkness. He dropped his keys on the floor.

  Lilith was sleeping on the couch, and she stirred faintly, mumbling something incoherent.

  I didn't want to wake her up.

  I took Jason's hands to lead him out of the living room. They were wet, but not with water. It was too thick for that. Too warm.

  It was blood. I knew it.

  Jason was bleeding. My worst fears realized, I led him to the bathroom. I closed the door after us and flicked on the light.

  Jason's hair was plastered to his forehead with blood and sweat. There were red streaks on his cheeks and chin. His clothes were spattered with it. And his hands . . .

  His hands were covered in blood.

  Jason looked up at me from under his stringy, matted hair. His eyes were dull. He looked through me.

  I put my hand to my mouth to stifle the little cry that was threatening to escape my lips.

  "Jason, what happened?" I whispered.

  He didn't answer. Didn't acknowledge that I'd spoken.

  What had happened to him?

  Shaking, I wet a washcloth in the sink and began to gently wipe away the blood, looking for his wounds.

  There weren't any.

  I swallowed. This wasn't Jason's blood.

  Jason wasn't hurt.

  Oh God. What had he done? And if he'd done it because of me, was it my fault?

  Jason picked up his hands. It was the first real movement I'd seen him make. He looked at them. I'd tried to wipe away the blood, but it gathered in the creases of his palms. Underneath his fingernails.

  "So much," he murmured. "So much blood."

  Oh. Oh, God.

  I didn't know what to do. "We'll get rid of it," I said finally. "We'll wash it off."

  But there was a lot of it. It was all over him.

  I stripped off his ruined clothes and started the shower. I got him inside, but once there, he wouldn't move. He just stood unmoving under the water. I needed to help him, so I got in the shower with him.

  I scrubbed him and scrubbed him. Scrubbed away every trace of blood. Washed his hair. Watched the blood wash down the drain, red and pink, swirling away from us like it had never existed.

  "Azazel," Jason said suddenly, as if he'd just recognized me. He caught my head with both hands, looked deeply into my eyes like he was lost, and he didn't know how to find himself.

  "I'm here," I said.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know what I . . ."

  "It's okay," I said. "Whatever it is. It's okay. I love you."

  "I need you," he said, and he kissed me.

  His mouth was on mine insistently. I felt like he wanted to devour me, like he was pulling strength from my mouth.

  I broke away. "Jason," I said breathlessly. "Jason, what happened?"

  He looked at me. He looked away. "Nothing can ever happen to you," he told the shower walls. "Without you, I'm nothing."

  He looked back at me, and his eyes were filled with tears.

  I pulled him close, pressing my body against his. He put his lips on mine again. I felt his hands move on my skin, stroking me through the streams of water that rushed over us.

  And because I didn't know what else to do, because his hands were urgent, because I felt vulnerable and frightened, I touched him back.

  The water poured over us, pounding against our naked skin. And we did the best we could to comfort each other the best we knew how. Jason gave me his hurt and confusion and fear and guilt, and I took it into my body. And as we crashed into each other, I gave it all to the water. I let it wash down the drain with Jason's tears.

  * * *

  My alarm went off at 6:15 the next morning. Jason stirred and then sat straight up in bed. "What?" he said, his eyes searching the room.

  I reached over and turned the alarm off. "It's just the alarm," I murmured to him sleepily.

  Jason lay back down. He drew me into his arms. He was wide awake, even though we'd only been asleep for a little over an hour. Jason could always be alert at a moment's notice, no matter how little sleep he'd gotten. "Are you getting up?" he asked me.

  "Skipping school," I mumbled. I fell asleep again almost immediately, snug and safe in Jason's embrace.

  When I woke up again, it was 9:30, and Hallam was standing over my bed. His arms were folded over his chest. He wasn't saying anything. I was still in Jason's arms, and Jason was still asleep.

  I looked at Hallam. He looked pissed. "Good morning?" I said.

  "When did he get here?" Hallam asked. Damn. He sounded pissed too.

  "Four or so," I said.

  "You know I don't like it when the two of you sleep in the same bed," said Hallam.

  How could he possibly be concerned about Jason and I having sex after what had happened last night? It seemed like the least important thing to focus on.

  "He was . . ." I searched for a way to explain what Jason had been like last night. "He needed me," I finally settled on.

  "Wake him up," said Hallam.

  "We didn't get to sleep until nearly five," I said.

  "Oh, spare me the details of your adolescent lust," Hallam said.

  I glared at Hallam. "He needs to rest," I said.

  "Wake him up," said Hallam. "And then get dressed and meet me in the kitchen."

  "Hallam," I protested.

  But Hallam was already going out the door to my bedroom.

  I sighed. I looked at Jason, sleeping next to me. His face looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake him. Lying next to him like this, I could hear his heart beating, steady and warm against my ear. If we just stayed like this, I could pretend that everything was normal and safe. I could pretend that Jason hadn't come home covered in blood last night. We could just be . . .

  What could we be? There was nothing normal about Jason and me. Normal kids didn't live together with a twenty-two-year-old ex-member of a secret society. Normal kids didn't deal with death and danger as much as we did. And normal kids didn't feel the way about each other that we felt about each other.

  I stroked his cheek. He stirred slightly, his lips parting. I kissed his temple, his forehead. His eyes fluttered open.

  "Azazel," he whispered
.

  "Hey," I replied, kissing his lips.

  He held me close. "This is nice. Waking up with you."

  "Mmm," I agreed.

  He gazed into my eyes, a small contented smile on his lips. I smiled back. Was there any reason that we had to move? Couldn't we just stay here, this close?