Page 24 of Beg Me Angel

But he would throw out his line,'Vera, there's always a silver lining, you just have to look for it.'

For years I questioned that saying—actually, I hated it.I couldn't understand where the silver lining was when he passed or how I could ever find good in his absence.

I was still looking for that answer, still trying to find the one thing that gave his death purpose. And even though I hadn't found it yet, I never planned on giving up my search for it.

If he could speak to me right then, there was no doubt in my mind he would tell me it was out there, that I just had to let it come to me. He would tell me that even the smallest thing could be seen as good, despite the greatness of whatever hell I was in.

If a huge fire came in and wiped out an entire forest, but a single butterfly made it through the ashes to live another day, he would see those wings as pure silver.

My father was a great man; he was grounded, he was strong, he had the words I could listen to when I needed answers.

Maybe. . . Maybe this is the same.

Getting all the answers wasn't going to happen right away, I had to be patient, I had to wait until the answers found me. Trying to force them out did nothing, racking my brain only made it hurt.

That didn't mean I wasn't going to look for them, it just meant that despite the effort I put in, I might not find what I was looking for just yet. But when I deserved the answer or when the time was right, it would come to me.

There was no point in working myself up when I couldn't remember shit anyway. But it would come, just like the quick glimpse I got from smelling Pax's shirt and the car ride when I smelt the smoke in my hair.

I just had to be patient.

Sliding under the flannel blanket, I pulled it up to my neck and closed my eyes. The glowing lamp by the bed created a red burst of light behind my lids, but I didn't care.

I didn't want the darkness, I wasn't ready for that yet. Four days of my life were already blackened like tar, I was more than happy to embrace that bit of color as I slept.

* * *

Athin crust had sealed my lids shut, crackling away as my lashes peeled apart. Scrubbing my eyes, I opened them wide, raking my nails down my face as I yawned.

Glancing around, the room was painted in gray shadows, the lamp, now a subtle glow inside the glass, hummed like a mosquito in my ear.

Rolling onto my side, I stared into the yellow light, watching it dissolve as the oil dried and the small white bag shriveled up like a raisin.

A clank of pots and pans echoed from in the kitchen, forcing me to lift my head up. Stretching my arms back and forth across my chest, I tried to work out the tightened muscles. Everything felt bound and cramped, strained and rigid.

I thought resting was suppose to make you feel better, not worse.

Another loud bang bounced off the walls outside the door, followed by a labored grunt from Pax. Twisting my body to dangle my legs over the edge of the bed, the ice cold floor tickled my toes.

What the hell is he doing out there?

Walking to the door, I buried my arms around my ribs as the sheer weight of the brisk air in the room forced goosebumps all over my skin. Stopping short, I turned and snatched the blanket off the bed, draping it over my shoulders and coiling it around my torso.

I wasn't used to the lack of internal heat or lights. I had the urge to flip a switch, but nothing was there. I had the desire to reach for the thermostat, but the warmth here was fed by logs.

Pax lived in a simple world, one that was missing all the necessities my existence had come to rely on. He had water, he had the basic creature comforts of home. But the intricate life of technology and ease of machinery was nonexistent.

The shower was hot, how did that work?

I let the question linger for a moment, tucking it away to ask him about later.

The handle on the door felt like solid ice as I pulled it open and stepped out into a wave of heat. The fire danced inside its basin as long wispy tendrils of flames whipped around inside, creating a sea of red and orange swells.

“Morning.” His gruff voice scratched out from his throat, his face was turned away from me, hovering over the counter.

“How did you know I was standing here?”

Cocking his head over his shoulder, his eyes floated around my body, then went back to whatever he was doing. “I'm always aware, Vera, especially now.” His arms moved up and down, the sound of metal on glass drifted between us.

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