Eluding Nirvana (The Dark Evoke Series Book 2) (12 page)

The
bedroom door was closed behind me when I exited the room. I was shuffling along the upper passageway in my fluffy slippers when someone knocked on the front door. My throat was introduced to my stomach before freefalling back into position. Uneven and ragged, my breathing came in short pants while sweat began to bead down the crevice of my spine.

Steady and silently, I lowered myself onto each stair as if the pe
rson on the opposite side of the door would think no one was home.

When the knock sounded again, I was halfway dow
n the stairway and found myself lowering my body to take a seat on the cold smooth surface, like a young child creeping down the stairs in the middle of the night after hearing her parents arguing.

“Kady?”
I was summoned after another impatient knock was issued. “Kady, its Laurie, open up.”

The sag of relief which
passed through my body was all but fleeting. My hackles rose, my back stiffened while I realized: I had no key to open the damn door, even if I wanted to. Slipping myself from the step, I held the balustrade with a fierce grip of my right hand; my left hand slowly skated over the cold, painted wall to my left as I warily descended. “Laurie––”

“Kady?” she
responded. “What’s taking so long? Come on, I have something. People are looking at me like I’m a fruit loop out here talking to a bloody door.”

I wanted to giggle
at her disposition. But I couldn’t. Nothing about this situation was funny. Liam’s constant fear for my safety was vastly becoming my own. I knew damn well Laurie was a friend, and there was no way she was packing chloroform and handcuffs in her purse, with some plan to abduct or harm me. But I was still paranoid. For what, I don’t know. I think a part of it, was the likelihood of questioning and interrogation to which I didn’t have the answers, and anxious of anybody’s tarnished opinions of my relationship. I suppose most of it, was the fear that
I
would be the one to cause that tarnished opinion.

Lowering myself from the last step, I took four strides to the barrier that was holding me prisoner and set my hand on my cell door. I muttered the first thing
that sprang into my head. “Laurie, there’s something wrong with the door.”

“What do you mean, something
wro––”

Please sound believable. Please sound believable. Please sound believable. “It keeps jamming. I think the wood is swelling too much for the frame. Liam’s going to get it
fixed; I can’t open it until the handyman comes out.”

Vibrations journeyed through the wood
to caress my palm, and I knew Laurie had just tossed her head against the surface. “So what am I supposed to do, Kady? Go all cat-burglar and climb in through the window?”

I smiled. “No, just…”
words faded as I exhaled a crippling, defeated sigh. You’d think I’d be used to being on my own by now. “Just go home and I’ll see you another day.”

A loud snort of protest was promptly followed by, “Hell no. I got a bag of shit here; I thought we could have some fun and relax.”

“You want to relax with a bag of shit?” That was a line in which I couldn’t stifle the amusement in my tone, and it felt so good to laugh. Laurie did have a way with words.

“Is the patio key still under Mr. Pointy?” Mr. Pointy was the garden gnome that she had gifted us when we m
oved in. Apparently, every backyard needs a freaky little dude with a fishing rod. Laurie had taken it on to name him Mr. Pointy thanks to his pointy nose.

I shrugged to myself.
“I don’t know. Maybe…”

“Okay,” she said, and I heard a bag rustle. “I’m going around the back. Thank the heavens you don’t have a f
reaking guard dog.”

While I heard her scurrying down the front steps, I made my way through to the kitchen and set two mugs on the counter.
Next thing I know, the pale, petite woman sporting loose fitted, faded jeans, a pink hoodie and black ballet pumps was skipping down the pathway, swinging her bag and waving frantically at me as I stood observantly in front of the window at the sink. Amused by her degree of enthusiasm, I shook my head and sniggered. Dorothy and her wicker basket eat your heart out; Laurie and her bag of shit were just as entertaining.

A s
mall hand was lifted in the air and beams of sunlight caressed the silver metal keys as she swung them in a form of triumph. Before I registered what was happening, the double glass doors along the right wall of the dining room were sliding open, and a very lively Laurie, who decided that purple work best for her bangs, was stepping inside.

“I did it!” she bellowed
victoriously, sliding the door closed and rounding the dining table. “I broke in, and didn’t even chip a nail.”

Eyes rolled heavenward,
I shook my head. “You are completely off your rocker.”

“That’s the best way to be
, girlie. You only attract your own kind, that’s when the fun really happens.”

With her
bag set down on the island, I asked if she wanted coffee. The tipping of her lips along with dark eyebrows meeting her hairline was my soundless answer.

Onyx liquid was poured into the waiting
cups before the pot was placed back on its stand. The steam swirled weightlessly as I slipped the beverage across the island, prompting her to take possession of the caffeinated goodness almost immediately, and an overly dramatic sigh of approval, unfettered from her throat. The bag of goodies, or using Laurie’s selection of words, ‘the bag of shit’, was gestured towards with a light tip of my brow as the warmth of the liquid radiated through the ceramic, heating my fingers. “What’s in the bag then?”

She swallowed her mouthful and
lowered the cup back onto the wood. “Here,”––her hand dipping inside caused a loud rustling––“we have a combination that, when added together, helps relax and can be used for comfort.”

Okay, now I was scared.

Each time she drew a new item out of that bag, my stomach knotted. Finally, my gaze drifted from the assortment of ingredients that sat on my counter, up to the round faced woman sporting a grin, which to be honest, looked too big for her face. Her hazel eyes sparkled with zeal.

I was sure the amount of air I had sucked into my lungs was tiptoeing
on bursting point. Eyes narrowed, I asked, “Call me dense, but wha––”

“We’re going to bake a cake,” she replied matter of a fact, and my once narrowed eyes were now wide with alarm. No way was I doing that. We only just moved here, there was no way was I going to put myself into a position where I could b
e responsible for turning the place into a pile of ashes.

I shook my head frantically, while my tiny
skittish sniggers emitted along my exhale. “Laurie, I can’t.”

The ledge of the island was gripped by her small, firm hands. S
he studied me carefully with unrestrained wisdom radiating in waves from her encouraging gaze. “There is no such word as ‘can’t’.”

“Okay. I cannot.”
By the stern expression carved into her face, my sarcasm wasn’t going to help me escape this hole; it was just going to dig me in further.

“Just try. I’ll be here; you’ll see how relaxing it can be.”

I didn’t believe that another chore could be deemed as relaxing. This was a bad idea. The fisted apprehension worming its way through my system and choking me was my confirmation of that.

As she drank in a li
beral breath, her face softened and her shoulders dropped when the death clutch on the edge of the island loosened. As if she knew exactly how my mind worked, she incited me with, “It could be a surprise for Liam.”

Me surprising Liam and making him happy is all I wanted. I wanted to be a good girlfriend. I wanted to do something nice for my man.
He looked after me. He deserved it. An unexpected surge of enthusiasm and excitement floored all negativity, and I was soon smiling at the thought of his praise.

“Okay. What do I do?”

Standing side-by-side, Laurie walked me through each step, from measuring out, to mixing. When the mixture began to curdle, my system was overridden by instant panic. If I was on my own, I would have been terrified and disheartened by failure, but Laurie continued with words of encouragement, and told me to spoon in a little flour if it began to curdle again. Somehow, with a little faith, I managed to save Liam’s surprise.

Taking extra care and making sure
all the coconut flakes were mixed in properly and evenly, the yellow substance was then equally poured into two sandwich tins. Before putting them in the oven, I smoothed over the surface with the back of a spoon, making a little dip in the center, just as instructed. When I turned back around, Laurie was gazing at me with an approving smile; it was like she was proud of me. Damn, I was proud of me. I just hoped Liam would be, too.

“See, I told you there’s no such word as ‘can’t’,” she
mocked before lifting her hand in a silent gesture of a high-five, but I ignored her gesture, and beaming like the Cheshire cat, I stepped into my tutor––one of my
best
friends…one of my
only
friends––and wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

“Thank you, Laur. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Her shoulder shifted as the warm, soft hand was lowered from mid-air then gently patted against my back. “You are more than welcome, girlie. I told you it was relaxing.” Holding me at arm’s length after pulling away, her head tilted back a fraction to look me in the eyes. “How do you feel now?”

I perused the area which was my kitchen. I didn’t like the mess which came with this baking malarkey, but I felt somewhat…achieved? Accomplished?
I couldn’t remember a time I’d felt that way without shame overshadowing it. Let’s just say, you couldn’t generally feel accomplished by getting the most tips in one night when you were stripping to get them.

I grinned and answered candidly. “I feel like I’ve accomplished something.”

My smile was reflected. “You have.”

It was 6
:35 p.m. and I was standing, rooted to the spot in my kitchen, gazing at the platter in the heart of the island, adorned with the simple masterpiece I’d created. Yes, okay, I had guidance, but I did everything myself. I even topped the cake off with a layer of raspberry jelly and sprinkled extra coconut flakes on top like they were snowflakes.

Liam could never get enough of coconut. It was his guilty pleasure.

Minutes passed swiftly as I smiled at my success. Drawn from my moment by the ringing, along with a loud buzzing, of my cell phone I raced to the dining table, rummaged through my purse, and without a glance at the flashing screen, I pressed the green button.

“Hello.”

“Kady?” a sniveling, hesitant voice whispered down the speaker.

“Brittany? Is that you? Thank God you’
re alright. Each time I called, Mom and Dad said you were busy,” I rambled, my words desperately needing liberation after so many weeks of zero contact. And I was thankful to hear her voice.

“Yeah, I’ve been up to my eyeballs.”

“So have we, what with the move––” I bit my tongue and cringed as soon as I realized my slipup. Damn me and my big fucking mouth.

“You moved?”

Shit, shit, shit. “Yeah, umm…” internally scolding myself, I was interrupted before I could continue digging myself a bigger hole.

“Kady, I need to talk to you.” She sounded serious. Brittany never d
id serious. “But I’m scared to––”

“What?!” I didn’t know whether to feel
annoyed or hurt. “Britt, you are my sister––my baby sister. Have I ever given you reason to feel scared?” I screwed my eyes shut before holding my breath. “God, are you pregnant?” Waiting for her answer, air was finally ousted when she hissed ‘no’ down the speaker.
Thank God for that.
I loved her to death, but Brittany could hardly take care of herself, let alone a baby. “Then what is it?”

With the handset resting against the side of my face, I strolled
back to the kitchen.

“Kady…
Liam made a move on me.”

The
world stopped moving as did my steps. The room span mercilessly on its axis, while my ears rang. I had to force a swallow before I choked on the two simple words which I could only just push passed the lump in my throat. “Excuse me?”

“
On Halloween…”

“No. No. No…
” the monosyllable words journeyed down the speaker on a suspicious snicker, while my hand found its way into my hair. “It was
you
and your man obsessed brain that was going around pinching everyone’s asses. You had a lot to drink, Brittany. You must have been mistaken.”

“Kady, I’m not mistaken,
he hit on me
. I told him no, but he wouldn’t let up. He was the one who jammed the bedroom door shut the following morning, and near enough forced his tongue in my mouth when we in the kitchen.”

There was nothing there in my head to absorb what she was saying; h
er frank words merely rebounded against my skull, making my head throb. This couldn’t be right. Liam wouldn’t do that. Not to me. Not after everything we had been through. I felt my blood go from a simmering to boiling point, almost immediately. “Brittany, I suggest you stop with this nonsense right now. Liam wouldn’t––”