Illicit (9 page)

I had a quiet evening home alone while dad worked the overnight shift. I was too mad to pay much attention to the moaning of the house or the wind in the trees outside.

Every time I was tempted to go look out the window to see if he was there, I’d occupy myself with something else.

I might be a novice when it comes to matters of the heart, but I knew that this constant turmoil couldn’t be good for me.

If he were truly interested he would’ve said something by now wouldn’t he? And what did I have to go on so far anyway?

A cryptic phone-call, a few run-ins in the hallway at school and him following me home to make sure I was safe? What did all of that really tell me anyway?

I still had no answers when I headed up to bed that night. I was almost tempted to stay awake so that he wouldn’t follow me into my dreams, but that was easier said than done.

The lure was too great; if I could only feel his touch, his nearness in my dreams, then I was willing to settle for that, for one last night at least.

He was there almost as soon as I had fallen asleep. Tonight things were a little different though. He laid down beside me, drawing me into his arms, holding me close so I could feel the beat of his heart.

“My little Jazzy.” Something opened inside me then, but just as I reached for it, it closed.

“Kiss me Thorn.” I don’t know where I got the nerve to say that, but it’s almost as if I had a point to prove.

When he avoided my mouth and instead kissed just the corners of my lips, I tried to stifle the disappointment that rose up inside me.

I couldn’t quite hold back the tears though, or maybe he was just so in tuned with me somehow that he sensed them in the dark.

“No Lyubov moya, don’t.” He kissed my tears away, licking them with his tongue, before drawing me in closer and covering my head with his hand as he held it against his chest. “It’s going to be okay baby, just give me some time.”

I didn’t answer him, just enjoyed what I knew would be the last time I’d ever be held this closely in his arms. I couldn’t go on like this; my heart couldn’t take it.

***

Thursday morning I awoke with a new purpose. I wasn't going to spend one more moment thinking about him.

I wasn't going to look for him in the halls, or keep my ears pricked for the merest mention of his name, or his whereabouts, like a lovesick little puppy; no more.

Whatever strange thing was going on here I was no longer willing to play, that one could drop off the edge of a cliff for all I care.

And I wasn’t going to moon over him anymore either. “And stay out of my dreams from now on.” I said that last out loud for good measure.

It felt great to reassert myself, if only in my own head. Mr. Azarov has taken up way too much of my time in the sparse two weeks since I’ve been here.

He hasn’t said anything to me about an us, just hard looks and once yesterday in the cafeteria he’d pointed a finger at me and motioned to another table when Mark had leaned in a little too close, to whisper something in my ear.

It hadn’t even occurred to me to disobey him. I’d just taken my tray with my salad and an apple, and slithered to the designated table with my head down.

What the others thought of my strange behavior I didn't know; hopefully they’d put it down to the awkwardness of my being new here.

I've been back to my uniform of jeans and T-shirts with Chucks since Anna’s experiment hadn’t gone over so well.

I guess that was the right course of action, since I haven't received any more glares thus far, but then again I might change that as well.

After all, I was putting the erstwhile Mr. Azarov behind me and moving on; so what I wore, or did not wear should be of no concern to him.

I wasn’t brave enough to risk it in the end when I got dressed this morning though, and played it safe, one thing at a time.

By first period I was feeling the effects of being caught in one of Havenhurst’ incessant drizzles one time too many.

My throat was inflamed and scratchy, and there seemed to be two people playing ping- pong in my head.

In short, I felt awful, but the thought of getting back into my old clunker and going back to an empty house was about as appealing as asparagus for breakfast.

By the end of the second period I was sure that death was only a stone's throw away and I was more than willing to welcome it.

In between classes I decided to rest against a cool wall, out of the way of traffic. With my eyes closed and head thrown back, I let my body sag.

I don’t think I’d ever felt this horrid before in my life. Maybe I should try to make it to the nurse’s station, but I didn’t have the strength, just the thought of moving made the ache worst.

I’d started my downward slide when I felt cool hands against my neck. Opening my now feverish eyes I couldn’t withhold the weak smile that spread across my face at the sight of his beautiful one.

He felt my forehead, with a worried look on his face all the while, before drawing me in close.

His lips against my fevered brow felt like heaven, and shattered my resolve.

And when he pulled me in tight against his hard chest I wanted to cry. No one had ever shown me such kindness with just a touch.

My eyes flew open when he picked me up in his arms like a baby. “Thorn?’ For an answer I received another kiss, this one to my hair, as he walked around the corner and down the hallway, where there were a few stragglers rushing to the next class, and out the door.

I didn’t even think to ask where we were heading I didn’t care. In his arms I felt safe and cared for.

I was almost asleep with my head on his shoulder when I opened my eyes in the nurse's office.

My beautiful man-boy didn’t ask any questions, just went right in and gave the nurse a nod before laying me down on the little cot they kept there.

I'm not sure what he said to the matronly older woman, but she was soon at my side with juice and pills.

I happily swallowed past the torture in my throat, while Thorn stood back against one wall, arms folded like a sentinel looking on as if to make sure she did everything just right.

Her soft motherly hands in my hair, brushing it back from my forehead was almost too much.

"You’ll be fine in no time Jasmine, just rest here for a little while; this delightful young man has assured me that he’s taking care of everything."

That was news to me, but I didn’t let on to not knowing what she was talking about.

I must've dozed off, because it was maybe half an hour later that I woke up to find Thorn sitting next to me, while the nurse bustled about outside the room.

My throat, though a tad better, was still on fire and I'd upgraded to hell warmed over in the feelings stakes.

As soon as he realized my eyes were open he placed his hand once more against my forehead. "Come."

He picked me up and held me close to his chest, as once again we were in motion.

He said thanks to the nurse who seemed about ready to genuflect, and I noticed two things at once; one, he had the most amazing voice I've ever heard.

A slight accent that I couldn't quite place but if I had to take a guess I'd say Russian or Eastern European. And two, he had a strange affect on the female of the species, even the older ones apparently.

He held me up between him and what I barely had time to notice was his car as he unlocked the door and sat me inside. "Where...?"

"Ssh..." Another kiss to my brow and I was seat belted in, chair reclined and he was on his way to the other side.

As sick as I was my heart was still doing its crazy dance, and my pulse was off the charts; how could it not be?

This was the first time I'd been in the presence of my beautiful boy for more than a nanosecond outside of a dream.

Maybe that was a good thing, because, if my heart acted this way from his mere presence alone, who knows what would happen if we actually had a conversation, the poor thing might jump right out and do a happy dance.

As it was, I was happy enough to lie there and watch him from beneath slitted lids.

He turned the key in the ignition, looked over his shoulder and then did something that was sure to send me into cardiac shock! He took my hand in his.

Why I found that to be the sexiest thing I'd ever experienced who knows, but for my young inexperienced soul it was.

I found it passing strange that only this morning I'd reserved to end whatever little...whatever this was, only to be thwarted by my own body's weakness.

He didn't just hold my hand either, no, he held my hand, there's a difference. He wrapped his larger one around my seemingly very tiny one, sharing his warmth with me.

But it was the way he held it, like he'd never let go; I think I just might cry after all.

I felt safe and warm in his presence, and his scent did something strange to my senses. It was the same scent that now clung to me, but from the source it was much more potent and heady.

I actually found myself sniffing him on the sly and damn if he didn’t turn those predatory orbs on me and smile. Like he knew exactly what I was up to.

Lifting our joined hands he placed his lips across my knuckles and that’s all she wrote.

My young system went into overload as my heart pounded, my pulse raced and something deep inside me opened like a blossoming petal.

I wanted to ask him if he too was experiencing this attack on the senses, but thought better of it, why would he? He could probably have any female he desired, there’s no way he would be mooning over a little pale faced nobody like me.

He squeezed my hand just as that painful thought clenched my heart and again I caught that slight shake of his head, just before I felt nothing but calm and peace.

I dozed off again and only woke when I felt the shift in the engine that said we were coming to a stop.

We pulled up to my house and I was surprised to see my dad's truck parked there, he wasn't due home for quite some time yet.

Thorn came around to release me just as dad stepped outside with a worried frown on his face. My beautiful boy didn't seem too worried about the father figure standing there, watching him as though he wanted to grill him or rake him over the coals; I'm not sure which.

"Chief Tanning, our Jasmine is sick did you get everything I asked for?" It's not good to have mini Os in the presence of your father Jasmine Ashley Tanning, but that voice.

How could I help it, and why had I never noticed its heated affect before? Granted he's said maybe less than five words to me in our entire existence, but I should've realized before now.

He looked down at me with a slight smirk on his face and I got the eerie suspicion that he'd heard every thought I'd just had.

Could he read my mind? Was that even possible? He grinned down at me before pecking me on the lips. Holy crap, he'd just...and in front of my dad...and oh I'm gonna die.

No wonder I was willing to embrace death earlier, I had some sort of premonition that's why.

I looked to my dad who was now scowling and looking on as if he'd like to snatch me from Thorn's hands. "Who'd you say you were again boy?"

"Your son in law." Gulp...I looked from one to the other of them, as there appeared to be some kind of standoff in the making.

Why did I have to be sick? I would've so loved to watch this play out. But I was beginning to feel like Dante's inferno, so I had to put an end to it.

"Uh guys?" They both turned to me as if they'd only just remembered that I was there.

"Oh sorry Jazz, I can take her from here son, you go on back to school." I thought for sure Thorn would pay heed, after all Peter was looking rather fierce, not to mention he has a gun, but no. I should've known better. It seems my beautiful boy was the same with men as he was with boys.

"No." That's all he said before actually brushing past my dad and heading inside and straight to our couch, where he laid me down gently and covered me with the old afghan that laid there.

He didn't pull back right away, but instead leaned over me, his eyes searching mine. When he was satisfied with what he saw there he stood up and turned to my dad.

"Kitchen?" I looked to see what my father would do or say, but to my surprise he just pointed in the right direction.

"Who is that guy Jazz?" Dad whispered as soon as the coast was clear. I could only shrug as the reality was, I really didn't know.

"You don't know? Then why is he carrying you around and calling himself my son in law?"

"Thorn dances to the beat of a different drum dad, I'm the last person to know..."

"You may ask me anything you wish chief Tanning just not now, let's take care of her first shall we?" Thorn appeared in the doorway just then.

He turned and headed back into the kitchen, leaving dad with his mouth hanging open. "How did he...? Dad looked at me and twirled his finger next to his head in the sign of insanity.

"I think we've got ourselves a live one Jazz, you sure he's safe? I'm gonna run him when I get back to the station."

"Speaking of which, what are you doing home so early dad?"

"That boy called and ordered me home, said you were too sick to take care of yourself, gave me a list and hung up."

It probably wasn't the best thing to do to laugh, not only because it hurt like the very dickens; but it probably wasn't a good idea to confound dad's perplexity any farther.

Poor thing, he was more at sea than I was, it was good to know that I wasn't the only one that Thorn left wondering.

The man-boy in question came back into the room with a tray. There was a cup of hot tea, some pills and what looked like honey mixed with something in a tumbler.

He gave dad a look, which had him scooting off the coffee table where he'd been sitting while talking to me. Amazing, he even controlled my father with a gesture. Curiouser and curiouser by the minute.

"Come." He sat behind me on the couch, pulling me up into a half seated position, so he could hold the cup while I sipped on my tea.

There were hints of lemon and ginger and he'd sweetened it just right. My throat rebelled a little but he wouldn't let up, not even when I complained.

"All of it." He held the cup against my lips making sure I obeyed.

"She doesn't have to drink it all if she doesn't feel like it..." Dad tried butting in.

"Yes she does." He didn't even pick his head up when he said that. I could hear dad fuming under his breath, probably wondering who this usurper was who had come into his house and dared to tell him what to do with his own daughter.

I was too tired to intervene, so I just obediently sipped my tea until it was all gone, then downed what turned out to be a honey and lemon mix with a touch of something strong, maybe Pete's whiskey supply.

Next came the happy pills and I was once more laid back and covered. "Sleep." I got another kiss to the brow, this one coupled with a hand to my hair, brushing it back off my face, and he was up and leaving.

I felt stupid tears cloud my eyes; that's sickness for you, it makes you weak. It felt like he was deserting me for some reason, which was stupid.

I know it was just the illness making me feel this needy but still. He turned at the door and gave me one last look. "I'm going after your car, I'll be back soon." See, mind reader.