Devon Monk - Magic to the Bone

“What do you think about Zayvion?”

I leaned my head back on the headboad. I’d slowly sunk down while talking, so now I was lounging more than sitting. “I have no idea.”

“Do you like him?”

“He’s a good kisser.”

She raised her eyebrows and smiled. “So far so good. Let me rephrase the question. How much do you like him, and how long has this been going on?”

She was my best friend. The one woman who liked me even though I was crazy sometimes. The one woman who kept her feet on the ground no matter what happened. I didn’t have to tell her everything. But I usually did. It was strange, but, in a way, she probably held more memories of my life than I did.

“I do like him. But I don’t think I should. I’m so weirded out right now, I’m not thinking straight, not feeling straight. He’s quiet, Nola. Insular. But he’s gone out of his way to help me more than once and hasn’t asked for anything in return, which is great and worries me. I mean, real life doesn’t work like that. There’s a price for everything, you know? And every time I think I have him figured out, he does something, and I’m back at square one again. It’s hard to tell who he really is.”

“Sounds like he’s a lot like you. Does he have any redeeming qualities?”

I scowled at her. “Remind me why I come here?”

“Because I am your best friend, and you know I’m always here for you if you need me. Oh, and you think my opinions are pure gold.”

“Gold?”

“Well, you think my opinions are pure something.” She grinned and it made me smile too.

“So how about some of that golden wisdom?”

She tipped her head back and stared out the door. She was quiet for a while, her calloused hand still on the kitten’s head. She had a habit of not saying anything until she was really ready to give her opinion. I hoped she wouldn’t want to sleep on it before telling me how screwed up my life was. I hoped she’d tell me she thought everything was going to work out okay.

She finally looked over at me. “Allie, I think you need to take a little time and figure out what you’re going to do next. You have been accused of killing your father. You skipped town with someone you barely know, and picked up a guy who had been stabbed. You didn’t go to the police and didn’t go to the hospital. That is going to be hard to justify.”

“I know. I tried to get Zay to take me to the police, but he said it wouldn’t be safe.”

“And you believed him?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “I was fried. I couldn’t think. He was there when I needed him, though.” The memory of his hands on my skin, the mint and warmth of him that I was drawn to like a magnet to metal, rolled through me.

There was something between us. Maybe something more than just a physical attraction. “He helped Boy too. And didn’t leave Cody behind. Or the cat. I think that counts.”

Nola nodded. “Well, I think you should go to the police. For one thing, you’re innocent, for another, you’ve been chased by that Hound woman and we don’t know what she wanted to do with you. I’m not sure what to do with Cody.”

I yawned. “I just couldn’t leave him behind to bleed. Zay suggested we get him to a hospital and see if he’s on record.”

“Something else to do in the morning, after he finishes sleeping himself out. We’ll get him up and let him eat, then see what he has to say on all this. Now, how are you really doing with your dad?”

Oh, I so couldn’t talk about this, because if I did I’d just cry, and if I started crying I wasn’t going to stop. “I’m okay. I’m trying not to think about it too much, yet. I don’t think I want to talk.”

She patted my leg. Even though her husband, John, had died four years ago, the marks of grief still showed in her eyes. I knew she’d understand.

“I’ll let you get some sleep, honey. We’ll see what we can do to straighten your life out in the morning.”

I snuggled down between the blankets, not caring that I hadn’t brushed my hair and was going to regret it in the morning. The bed was soft but not too soft, and the blankets smelled of soap and a little like flowers.

“Thanks, Nola. For everything.”

“Any time. But let’s try a visit with less drama and more shopping next time, okay?” She picked up the kitten and got off the bed, then called Jupe. I heard him clomp across the living room—which was across the entryway hall from my room—and pad through the door.

“Jupe is going to sleep in here with you tonight.”

“Why?”

Nola pointedly looked out the door, and I propped up enough to see what she was looking at.

Zayvion had made up the couch in the living room, and was stretched out on it, a blanket tossed over his hips and chest, leaving his bare legs and arms free. His eyes were closed, but I didn’t think he was asleep yet.

“Like I can’t look after myself?” I whispered. “I’ve been dealing with him for days.”

Nola raised her eyebrows and gave me a long look. “Do you know this man?” she whispered. “Do you know anything about who he is? I’ve watched you fall into bed with men so fast that you didn’t even know their names. And not one of them treated you right.”

“That was high school, Nola.” At her look, I added, “Okay, okay. And college. And after that.”

“And this is now,” she said. “It doesn’t change my opinion.”

“You worry too much.”

“I’m not the one with burns up my arm and face, nor am I on the run from the law.”

I looked up at her. She wasn’t angry, wasn’t trying to make me feel bad. She was worried. Deeply. And I was lucky to have a friend who cared that much about me.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m just not thinking very straight.”

“I know. That’s why I’m thinking for you.” She walked over to the bed and squeezed my hand. “Good night, honey. Are you sure you don’t want anything for the burns or bruises?”

“No. They really don’t hurt.”

She walked to the door, and Jupe followed her. “Stay, Jupe,” she said.

Jupe wagged his tail and tromped back into the room, made a circuit of the meager space between the bed and door, then sprawled out across the floor. He took up so much room that my chest instantly tightened with the panic of being closed in, trapped.

Nola propped the door open wide, giving me more breathing room. “Good night, Allie.”

I licked at my lips, eyed the floor full of dog, and looked out at the not-sleeping Zayvion with all that great space around him.

“Is this really necessary?”

“I think so,” Nola said. “Trust me on this.” She turned off the lights, leaving me and the beast in the darkness. I heard her stocking feet go through the living room, then up the stairs to the second floor. I listened to her check on the kid in the real guest bedroom, wished she’d put me in that room instead because at least it was big enough for me and the dog, then heard her walk to her own room. Pretty soon I heard her light click off and then the squeak of bedsprings as she settled down.

The dark room was a box, a grave, a coffin. My heart beat clunked along while I practiced calming mantras. I could do this—I’d shared a dorm in college. When I had to, I could handle small spaces. And this room was much bigger than an elevator. Bigger than a bus, a crowded subway, a compact car, a cramped closet, a crate—okay that line of thinking was not helping. I was starting to sweat.

Think positive.

This room was so big, a dozen Jupes would fit in it with me. And if I could just stop thinking about it, I could fall asleep and if I could fall asleep, I could stop thinking about it.

I worked on meditating and relaxing my muscles systematically, starting at my toes. By the time I got to my knees, the dog was snoring. By the time I got to my elbows, Zayvion was snoring.