Iron (The Warding Book 1) (17 page)

I snorted in an unladylike fashion that would have horrified my mother. “Yeah well the only ‘break-up’ I’d ever like with that particular asshole is the breaking up of his stupid nose.” I grabbed my glass and gave its contents a stern look when they threatened to slosh out of the glass. It stopped it’s crazy dance under my death-glare and allowed me to knock back the reminder with practiced poise. I might have sucked in the boxing ring, but I was a true champ in the world of lightweight alcoholics.

“Seriously, though? He’s usually very patient and kind. Stern, yes, but never cruel. I don’t know why he’s pushing you so hard. It’s not fair. There must be something else going on. Something I can’t see, and it drives me mad.” That whisper-y far-off quality was back in her voice; the one that made me think an old soul lived in that punky teenaged body.

She was such a strange juxtaposition; one moment a brash, funny girl who reminded me of my younger self. The next, she was an otherworldly, all-knowing creature who kind of scared the shit out of me. The sudden swings back and forth between her personas truly weirded me out.

I was glad the bubbly water hid my shudder. I cleared my throat, “Yeah well, whatever his deal is, he has it out for me.” Before I could lose my temper again and go on a tirade about how stupid his eyebrows were, I said, “It’s probably my own fault. This is karma coming due. I mean, I asked for this. It was in my part of the pact. I’m just paying for my own stupidity in a very painful and visible fashion.”

“Still, it isn’t right.” She looked down at her lap, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “You’ve had enough to deal with lately, with us turning your world upside down. You shouldn’t have to take his crap on top of that.” I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet. She finally looked up and I saw guilt written across her face. “You must really resent us for all the crazy we’ve brought into your life. I’m sorry we’ve made you so unhappy.”

I opened my mouth to refute her. You know, to give her one of those banal dismissals we give friends when they say something that is right on the nose but hurts them so much that we don’t want to admit it’s true to their face. But the words never came. In that moment it struck me like a bolt of lightning and I was glad the metaphor didn’t take use of my bubble bath to fry me alive.

I hadn’t been happy before they had barreled into my life. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I had been all that satisfied with life. The growing pains of becoming an adult hadn’t lessened as my twenties passed in the rear view. In fact, they threatened to drag me down on a daily basis. I had been lost and bored, feeling alone more often than not, for so long that I could barely remember
not
feeling that way.

My family life had been crap for as long as I could remember. Distant was the kindest way to describe those relationships. Jenni was the only true friend I had. The other girlfriends from my high school and brief college years were long gone; moved away, grown up, married and popping out kids at a pace I didn’t even want to try to keep up with. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had taken stock of my life and realized how lonely I was.

Had I missed them? Was I avoiding reconnecting because I was jealous of their success, their stability? Maybe. I loved Jenni to pieces and she was like a sister to me. We had plenty of adventures and fun antics, but even those good were a struggle to maintain. Constantly teetering on the brink of eviction-level poverty had me stressed out more often than not.

Even on the days where I wasn’t a ball of nerves, I wasn’t really happy. Not miserable, per say, but I certainly hadn’t been skipping along, whistling Dixie and counting rainbows. How long had I been just getting from day to day without thinking; without feeling?

When had I settled for surviving instead of living?

Had I done anything other than bemoan the hardships Kaine and his buddies had piled upon me over the last two weeks? Oh, right: I had spent a good deal of time moping around, droning on and on about my bad luck until I got on my own nerves too. And let’s not forget my short stint as crazy shut-in either.

Yeah okay; no one liked having the veil ripped off their eyes, but that wasn’t really their fault. As far as I knew, they hadn’t worked some freaky fae mojo on me. My “awakening” had happened all on its own. If that chain of events had kept going the way it had that night
without
their intervention, who would have stopped Goliath? If Kaine hadn’t come to my rescue, there was no doubt in my mind he would have smeared me across the concrete but had I ever thanked him for that?

Had I thanked Gannon for taking on the task of teaching me to protect myself either?

I had been so lost in my own whirl of emotions that I hadn’t taken the time to really think a single thing through. I had been scared out of my wits, like I had never been before. I had been angry to the point of spitting acid and bewildered as all get out. I had felt an aching distance growing between myself and the friend I had always considered a sister; but I had also found the new surprise of a fresh start. In the worst of it, I had been taken down to my very lowest, made to feel like I was an insignificant little fly—but I had also felt a little jolt of victory every time I had knocked away a punch aimed for my face.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so alive.

Suddenly, the magnitude of what a whiny pussy I was being hit me. Instead of dealing with things head-on, I’d been dragging my feet and looking backwards; wishing things could go back to normal. Never mind that “normal” sucked and had for such a long time. It was what I knew and that made it that safe kind of suck. The kind you no longer loathe because loathing requires passion, which has been drained right out of you by that point. The kind you grumble about when it’s not looking instead of telling it to take a hike so you can make room for something more useful.

Here was that “something” I had been looking for all along. It certainly wasn’t what I had expected. It wasn’t ideal either, and it certainly wasn’t going to give me a chance to make the slow, baby-steps transition I preferred—but it was
something
. It was a change; a purpose. I could do something that no one else in the world could do, and I could use it to help others; Kaine and his friends, the people I loved, even complete strangers who would never know any better. I had the chance to
do
something with my life instead wasting every freaking night sitting on the couch, watching another mindless TV show while counting down the hours until bed-time. Just so I could get up the next morning and do it all over again.

Well, fuck that.

Fuck me too while I was at it. I’d been an idiot and that needed to stop. Water sloshed over the side of the tub as I sat up. Luckily the bubbles continued to hide my lady bits. Mairi and I weren’t quite that close yet. From the alarm on her face, I had a feeling she wasn’t used to my normal dramatics, so that was a level of intimacy we really didn’t need in our budding friendship. I flung an arm out toward the door. “Toss me a towel and go turn on my laptop!”

“Wha—I—ah, okay.” She unfolded herself and stood, but hesitated; wavering. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, fine,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. “Moment of humbling clarity is all. Need to strike while the iron is hot and the ego is pouting!”

She continued to stare at me with wide eyes. “Uhhh, yeah… I don’t…”

“I’ll explain when I’m less naked. Laptop, living room, coffee table—go. I’ll be out in a minute.” She turned and was halfway out the door before I exclaimed, “Wait! Towel first!”

The look she gave me was bemused, to say the least. She tossed me my towel—which I, amazingly, caught before it landed in the tub—and shut the door behind her. I kicked up the tub drain and stood, toweling off the bubbly residue. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror; my hair balled up in a messy bun atop my head, my cheeks still flushed from the steam. I was scowling something fierce but there was a crazy glint in my eyes. I could see why she had looked at me like I was a madwoman. I kind of looked like one. Oops.

I had meant it though. Maybe I hadn’t realized it until the words had spilled out of my mouth, but I
did
need to strike while the iron was hot. I needed to make a move now, before logic and laziness kicked back in and I wasted another night eating Chunky Monkey in front of Sex in the City re-runs. I had asked for their help, but I hadn’t really been pulling my weight. Maybe I had been drifting along for so long, letting life blow me wherever it wanted, that I had become complacent in my misery. Complacent with my penchant for failure; for my tendency to give up when things got too hard.

Yeah; screw that.

It was time I stepped up and took control.

Chapter Thirteen

“You know, we probably should have measured the room before we brought this damn thing home.”

Mairi’s words of wisdom earned her a wrinkled up nose and a stuck out tongue. She was right, of course, but that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I ignored her giggles and hauled myself to my feet, dusting my hands off on my pants.

It was dark outside and a glance at the cable-box told me it was almost 7pm. Not late, really, but a good deal later than it had been when we started our current adventure. I guess that made sense. What home improvement project ever ends before you’re exhausted and in no mood to clean up the wreck you inadvertently created?

I surveyed the damage with a deep sigh. The living room behind me was a disaster area. My coffee table was lost under boxes and my couch—oh, my poor couch. It was littered with discarded Styrofoam, swaths of packing tape and other assorted bits of packing material. The floor would need a good sweeping too. The adjacent dining room hadn’t fared much better. It was a small offshoot of my living area to begin with; little more than a table, four chairs and some abstract art I had found at a thrift store. I hadn’t really stopped to think of its size when the need for a home gym had struck me. The table had been pushed into one corner, the chairs tucked in tight with no room to be pulled back out.

Oh well. I ate at the tiny counter in the kitchen more often than not. No longer being able to host my non-existent dinner parties was a travesty I would deal with later. (Boo-hoo.) Luckily, there was a decided lack of mechanical odds and ends among the mess. It had taken us nearly an hour to assemble the accursed treadmill, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to explode when I turned it on.

My credit card may have melted in my wallet—and I was pretty sure I’d have a similar meltdown when the bill came in—but I was pretty happy with the self-betterment binge I had gone on. My new workout clothes were in the dryer and a fresh pair of sneakers awaited me by the front door. The treadmill was parked in the center of the room. I didn’t think I had the strength to move it now that its monolithic majesty was all put together, so there it would likely stay. An adorable set of graduated dumbbell weights sat on their little stand by my entertainment center. I figured placing them there would remind me of my new commitment every time I was tempted to veg in front of the TV. (Score one for guilt!) I had no idea where I was going to put the yoga mat or the huge, blue balance ball that had rolled down the hall.

Honestly, I wasn’t even 100% sure what was I even supposed to do with either of them. I was sure the pile of fitness DVDs stacked on the table would help, but the reality of what I had just done sort of sucker punched me in the gut.

“Great. Everything is put together and we’re all finished...” The amount of cheer in my voice didn’t at all match my words. “And now I don’t have a clue where to start with all this.”

A poorly stifled giggle made me glance back over my shoulder. Mairi was doubled up on one corner of my couch, hands pressed over her mouth in an attempt to keep me from hearing her laughter. Her face was red with the effort, however failed it was. I pursed my lips and gave her a squinty-eyed glare of Not Amusement, but that too failed. Instead of being chastised, she just pointed at me and flailed about more, letting loose a peel of laughter. I stood there, hands on hips, and tried to appear stern for a moment or two before giving in to the hysterics. I shoved aside a Styrofoam brick and a swath of weird foamy wrapping paper and flopped on the couch beside her.

We laughed until tears streamed down both our faces. I gasped more than breathed between fits. I don’t know what, exactly, we found so funny but each time we would quiet down, one would look at the other and the giggles would start all over again.

Finally the giggle fit ran out of steam and left us sprawled among the debris on my couch in a sort of boneless stupor, panting as if we had both just run a marathon. My sides ached, yet it felt good. Not like earlier, after my second ass-whooping. This was a pleasant kind of ache that defied logic or explanation. I was surrounded by shiny new contraptions of debt and enough trash to fill a small dumpster, but I felt content. Peaceful. Relaxed. Dare I say, accomplished? That felt kind of silly, since I really had no clue what to do with all the expensive goodies I had just bought on my shopping spree. “One of these days I’ll get the hang of planning past step one.”

She seemed to know what I was talking about without me having to explain. “Well, you got those DVDs, right? I’m sure they’ll help.” She had tucked herself back into the far corner of the couch. “I know you’ll probably throw something at me for saying it, but if you ask I’m sure Gannon could give you some pointers too.”