Chapter 17

Death wish?

Miriam would have laughed if her throat hadn’t gone dry.

Death was the last thing on earth that she feared.

It was final. Nothing compared to the way she felt during a seizure…

Stuck.

Trapped in-between life and death, like a proverbial Snow White.

Being frozen, being trapped inside a lifeless body…

Those were the fears that kept her up late at night, tossing and turning until she was forced to raid the medicine cabinet for her father’s sleeping pills.

But there was a mocking edge to Eliot’s question.

This strange boy with the brooding eyes and dark red hair might…

…wish for death.

She wondered why…

“Is there any particular reason you want to know the answer?”  She asked fearlessly, surprising herself.

Eliot’s gaze narrowed.  “No.”

His arms were crossed, and Miriam realized that he was in the exact same spot on her fuzzy pink throw rug that he’d been in before her father had barged in.

Right by the window.

Almost as if…

As if he’d never moved at all.

He caught her startled glance.  “I’ve just never seen anyone quite so willing to place themselves in danger,” he said.

The foreboding edge to his tone made her gulp.  She couldn’t help the sudden unease that had her fingers shaking as she curled them into fists.

He didn’t scare her, she told herself.  He didn’t.

But the context of his words did; she thought of the girl found murdered in the snow and shuddered.

She was forced to admit that there were all kinds of creepy characters who could have found their way through her broken door last night to pay a visit—not counting Eliot.

As funny as it seemed, she should have counted herself lucky; at least Eliot hadn’t hurt her.

…At least, she thought, not yet.

“Where did you go?”  She asked in a soft voice.

Halfheartedly, she glanced around her room again, even though she knew in the depths of her gut that there was nowhere big enough for him to hide.

Even the closet was too small.

Besides, taking a glance at Eliot’s arrogant stance, she could tell that he just wasn’t the type to hide—let alone shove himself under the bed.

“You couldn’t have used the door,” she prodded.  “Where did you—”

He took a step closer and she trailed off as nerves exploded to life and fluttered like butterflies in her stomach.  Her heart lurched to the back of her throat.  She blinked—she couldn’t help it.

Up close…

Up close, Eliot was mind-blowingly handsome.

Flawless.

Perfect, with those two burning eyes glowing like smoldering gems.  If she wanted to be poetic about it, she might have described him as an angel in the flesh.

But only a fallen one would look the way he did now; there was nothing at all ‘angelic’ about those piercing red eyes.

“How do you know,” he began in a dangerous whisper.  He leaned down, allowing those dark eyes to pass over her once before settling fearlessly on her bottom lip.  “…That I even left at all?”

Miriam shivered at what he implied.  “W-what do you mean?”

He smiled; a coldly mocking tilt of his mouth that made her heart flip.

“You know what I mean…Miriam.”

The use of her name made her jump.  Fear had her stumbling back, putting her safely out of the reach of those long, pale fingers.

“No I don’t—”

“There you go again,” he scolded in a lethal murmur, taking a step forward.  “Again, with the lying.”

He took another step closer, forcing her to stumble back until she hit the wall.

“Is that your first impulse, no matter the situation?”  He asked, tilting his head thoughtfully to the side. “To lie?”

She tried to twist away from him.  “Get awa—”

He only placed his hand against the wall, blocking her path.  “Not until you answer the question.”

The authoritative tone made her grimace.

She forced herself to meet his glare.

He might have broken into her house and stalked her for the past few days.

But she wouldn’t let him intimidate her…

“My father won’t be too far away, you know,” she began in a trembling voice.   Her eyes darted to her cellphone.  “If I call him—”

“Your father?” Eliot laughed.  The mocking tilt to his mouth grew wider.  “You’ve lied to him as well, remember?  ‘I’m fine,’” he parroted.

“You don’t know what you’re—”

“Talking about?”  He released another dark chuckle.  “As you said, I don’t know you—but even I can see that you are not ‘fine.’”  He nearly spat the last word at her, the scathing tone flashing her back to that day at the dinner. “Go ahead and call your father.  I’m sure that will make him come right back—”

“You’re doing this on purpose,” she blurted, remembering the creepy way he had acted the day before, tossing other people’s emotions into her face.  Just to throw her off balance.

To frighten her.

“You’re trying to scare me…”

That mocking smile slipped, as annoyance flashed in those dark eyes.  “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because…”  Miriam drew the word out as she tilted her head back to gaze at him fully, unafraid for the first time.  “Because, you’re angry,” she decided finally.

She had no idea why the word came to mind.  He certainly didn’t look angry—more like arrogant as he crossed his arms over his chest.

But something in her caught the way the corners of his eyes were crinkled in frustration.  How his mouth kept tensing as though he were trying hard to keep from clenching his jaw.

He was angry.

“Why would I be, Miriam?” he spat back, using her name to intentionally frighten this time.

She only had to think for a moment before the answer popped into her mind. As crazy as it seemed…she knew why…

“Because I stayed.”

His jaw clenched, and she knew triumphantly that she had hit her mark.

“Because I didn’t leave with my father,” she went on in a rush.  “You’re angry because I stayed here…by myself.”

Alone.

He flinched and pulled back.

“Why?”  She demanded when he didn’t answer.  “Why should you care?”

“Why do I care?”  Eliot repeated in an incredulous snarl.  “Why don’t you?”

In a blur of motion he lunged.  Miriam barely even saw his hands as they shot out to pin her shoulders harshly against the wall.

Bang!

The sound echoed in her ears, but the blow wasn’t quite hard enough to be painful.  She could barely even feel his grip through her sweater.

But they were cold.  Icy even.

A glacial chill emanated from him like heat would from a normal person…but a part of her was already beginning to realize that he wasn’t even close.

“Are you just that stupid not to have a self-preserving bone in your body?”  Eliot went on in a growl.

Miriam bit her lip hard, enough to taste blood as she had to physically force herself to meet that burning gaze.

She wasn’t afraid…she wasn’t afraid…

But, he was too close—way too close.

She swallowed, trying to keep from hyperventilating.

His nearness messed with her head, toyed with her mind—like static fuzzing up a radio connection.  She couldn’t think—couldn’t focus at all.

Stupid thoughts crowded her mind. Stupid as in, wanting to reach up to finger a lock of that blood-red hair.

Though, she still had enough sense to answer his question.  “What do you mean?”

His red eyes narrowed, but his grip loosened.

“What I mean,” Eliot began coldly, “is that I could have hurt you a thousand times over.  You could have been the one found out there in the snow—and you wouldn’t have done a damn thing to prevent it.”

“But…but you didn’t hurt me.”

She didn’t know what made her say it.  She shouldn’t have said it.

Eliot grimaced as if she’d hit him.  In an instant, those cold hands let her go and the next moment he was halfway across the room, hands held out almost protectively in front of him.

Her words didn’t make sense.  The fact that she wasn’t terrified of him didn’t make sense.

“I could kill you, Miriam,” he insisted darkly.

She didn’t doubt him for one minute.

Still…

“You would have done it already.”

She knew that, too.  If he had wanted to hurt her she would have already been dead.

Ripped to pieces.

Hesitation didn’t seem his style, and danger was obvious in the subtle strength coiling in the muscles beneath his shirt.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he growled.

For once, Miriam felt a real hint of terror slide down her spine at the threat in his voice.  “Can’t and won’t are two very different things.”

“Yes.” She nodded, feeling calm—oh so calm—when she knew in her heart that she shouldn’t have been.

She should have been screaming in terror.

She should have run away.

She should not have taken a step closer.

Her bare feet dug into the plush carpet as she met his fiery gaze straight on.  “If you were going to kill me, then you wouldn’t care if I made it easy for you or not.”

He didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened even more until Miriam wondered how his teeth were popping loose.

“You wouldn’t care that I like being alone.  By the way,” she added in an annoyance, “just because I have seizures doesn’t make me an—”

Invalid, she meant to say.  It doesn’t make me an invalid.

However, a flash of bright, brilliant blue erased the words in a whoosh of rushing air.

Her gasp was pathetic.

It was like all the air had been sucked from her lungs.  She went still.  Her heart began to pound like a hammer as that familiar taste of fear wormed its way onto her tongue.

Her body braced for the fall…

Whatever Eliot made her feel had nothing on this.  She would have rather him break into her house every day for the rest of her life than tolerate one minute of…

“Are you alright?”

She couldn’t shake her head.  She couldn’t speak.

But she could still think—and one thought dominated them all.

How could she still hear?

How was she still standing?

How could she still see even as the blue quickly faded?

Her mind tried to process the questions as her body tried to fight the fear that encased her spine.  It was overwhelming—like an icy hand cinching her lungs.

She tried to breathe…

It was only then that she realized she was shivering, though not from fear.  Someone held her against a body so cold it was practically freezing.

Her teeth chattered from the cold, but it wasn’t unbearable…

Her father had been warm, she found herself thinking, but someone he had seemed colder.  While this person may have felt frozen, they seemed more than alive.

“Miriam!”

The shout snapped her out of it. She then turned her head up weakly to face Eliot’s.  He was the one holding her, she realized—in an awkward embrace as if he wasn’t quite sure how to do it right.

Hell, he might have been without physical contact even longer than she had.

But, at least he kept her from falling.

“I…I’m fine,” she croaked, finding her voice.

She flinched at another indigo flash, only to realize that the light wasn’t quiet as bright as usually.  Confused, she pulled away from Eliot and stumbled in the direction of the flash.

Her hands braced her body against the window sill where she could see a salt truck milling through the snow.  On top of the hood were flashing blue sirens to warn other drivers that it was coming.

False Alarm, she thought.  Not a seizure.

The relief nearly barreled her over, but once again Eliot was the one to keep her steady.  His hand fell hard on her shoulder, forcing her upright even as her knees buckled uselessly beneath her.