Page 7 of White Raven
He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, lingering on the taste of her before he gave up the opportunity to do it again for a couple of hours. When they finally broke away, he pressed their heads together. “Go check on her. I’ll make us some more coffee. It’s about the only thing I can cook.”
Sarah laughed, and the way that sound made him stumble over himself still shocked him. “‘Kay.”
That word. Damn it. It made him wish he could walk next door, plop down on that leather couch again and pull her into his lap. There’d be time. An eternity of it. He smiled at her while he watched her head for the door. He wasn’t sure how long he stared at that door even after she’d closed it behind her.
Loud purring roared in her ear as Wren pulled her covers under her chin, curling in on herself in the heavy darkness that Athan’s old curtains provided. It felt more like home in this building now than it ever had in her old place. She’d spent very little time there the past couple of months anyway, and the warmth of Sarah and Athan’s gesture made it all the more comfortable. Denver’s warm paws kneaded the side of her neck, dragging strands of her hair back as his purring grew louder. It seemed he was just as content. She had almost drifted back to sleep before a knock sounded at the front door. Most likely Rhaena. She couldn’t bring herself to move, nor did she particularly care to see anyone. Rhaena had a spare key. If it was important, she’d let herself in. Wren pulled the heavy blanket tighter around her.
The knocking rang out down the hall a few more times, and she heard the deadbolt unlock. She didn’t even raise hereyes as soft footsteps crept down the hall, along with the telltale rustling of a plastic bag.
“Wren?”
Not Rhaena. That was Sarah’s voice.
“I’m in here,” Wren croaked, keeping still as Denver continued matting her hair. Sarah’s silhouette appeared in the doorway and stilled, easing whatever bag she was carrying down to the floor.
“I won’t ask if you’re alright,” Sarah breathed, keeping her stance at the doorway to Athan’s old bedroom. “I always hated when people asked me that shit after…well…after.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I came bearing gifts. If you’ll give me five minutes, I’ll leave. I just…I wanted to see you. It’s Christmas. It wouldn’t be the same without your wretched singing.”
“Fa-la-fucking-la…la-la-la-la.” Wren’s hand waved over the blanket. Sarah snorted, inching towards the bed.
“I can think of someone better suited to fuck your‘la,’” she chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“The time for cracking on me about that was yesterday, bitch.” Wren couldn’t help but smile beneath the blanket.
“So…you’re saying if a certain…piano bar prick,had been at the door, you wouldn’t have at least brushed your rat’s nest hair?”
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not? You never do anything you don’t want to do. You must have needed it as much as he did.”
Wren slowly eased herself out of the blankets and nudged her squishy cat. “Denver,stop, dude. You sound like a busted air conditioner.” She reached over and tugged the chain on the bedside lamp, squinting at the light as her swollen eye barely focused. She straightened herself and leaned back against the headboard. “Hot, isn’t it?” she smirked, looking at her bestfriend as she took in her eye. “I finally was able to open it last night after I got out of the shower.”
“It really doesn’t look that bad. Can you see out of it?”
“Yeah, a little. It’s fuzzy right now, but I can see. Still makes my head hurt. They sent me home with some pretty decent meds, though. I don’t think I expected that. I’d rather not see the bill if it’s anything like yours.”
“You don’t need to worry about the bill,” Sarah said, reaching into the bag and pulling out a pack of four chocolate pudding cups. “We know what that secret weapon is anyway, right?”
“Goddess,” Wren smiled, reaching for them.
“I also brought these.” Sarah reached back in and handed her a large pack of red licorice braids. “And these.” She emptied the bag, a fresh pack of cigarettes hitting the blanket.
“I love Christmas.”
Wren started popping the sealed pack on the heel of her hand and fished around for a lighter. “I know you do. Are the good meds the reason you’re holing up in here like a hermit?” Sarah asked. Wren slid a cigarette into her mouth and offered her friend one. Sarah took it and they both lit up.
“No,” she replied, blowing smoke. “No, it isn’t.”
“Talk to me.”
“Why did you say I didn’t have to worry about the bill?” The cigarette stayed between her teeth as she pulled her unbrushed red hair up into a messy knot.
“Because Brent is footing it from Conrad’s estate settlement. Yours and his. The old bastard was the reason you were both there, anyway. You shouldn’t have to pay for that.”
Wren grew quiet as she took another long drag. She stared forward, and then finally started to shake her head slowly. “I thought I’d never make it out of that basement, Sarah.” Her voice broke, and she could feel the knot in her throat growing.Her eyes burned with hot tears, and her chest hurt. Sarah scooted closer. “I thought his crotchety ass was gonna kill me. I thought—I thought Brent was…” She sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. Sarah said nothing. Instead, she reached for her hand, thumbing over the back of it and listening quietly. “Of all the people I thought were coming after me, I…I never expected it to be him. And the minute I heard his voice upstairs…” Wren shrugged. “I shouldn’t have kissed him.”
