How It Was by T. S. Joyce
Chapter Four
Nuke couldn’t sleep.
Sometimes, Tovlin haunted his dreams, and tonight was one of those times.
He liked to torture himself with what-if, and what-happened, and what-could-he-have-done-differently as his pound of flesh for what had happened that night four years ago. It wasn’t fair that he was still walking the earth.
The clock on his phone read 4:50, and he sighed as he sat up on his mattress on the floor. It was strange sleeping in a new place. He’d been in a rented cabin for the last few years and that had been the view he saw every morning when he cracked his eyes open. This trailer was still unfamiliar.
Fuck sleep. He scrubbed his hands over his face and got up, showered, and grabbed his flannel jacket. He didn’t really need it, because his engine ran very hot, but people looked at him strangely when he was out in cold weather in a T-shirt with no gooseflesh. He’d learned through the years to blend in, he had to pick up certain habits that made him look more human.
The hardware store opened early for contractors to pick up their supplies before they hit the construction sites, so that’s where he was headed.
He hopped out of his trailer, and then eyed the huge drop-off where the stairs were supposed to be. A quick mental measurement told him the door was about three feet wide, and he could build the stairs four feet wide. Hell, maybe add a deck and bring it out. He measured off eight feet by walking it out, stopped himself, and let off a soft laugh. It had been a long damn time since he wanted to fix a place up. He frowned at the ground as a memory of him building decks with his dad and brothers assaulted him.
He knew exactly what he needed from the store—every size of screw, every length of nail, the amount of lumber he would need, the color of stain he wanted, the tools—
“Are you going to build a deck?” a soft voice asked in the dim light of dawn.
Nuke startled hard and spun.
It was the woman—Trina.
Her hair was down and hanging in loose waves down her shoulders. She’d put on make-up, but her eyes were full of something he couldn’t understand. She was probably in her early thirties, but those eyes looked a hundred years old.
“You look tired,” he grumbled, straightening his spine. “Like…really tired.”
She let off a laugh and pulled the blanket around her shoulders tighter. “Thanks a lot. With compliments like those, I don’t know how I’ll be able to maintain my low self-esteem and minimal self-worth.”
He didn’t know how to respond.
“That was a joke,” she whispered. “I’m actually feeling…” She looked around and lifted her chin higher. “I’m actually feeling hopeful today. I made friends with a mouse last night.”
He snorted. “You need friends? You can have the damn mouse in my trailer too. What are you doing out here? It’s early and cold.” God, why was he this awkward at speaking to the human? It was probably just because he was running on very little sleep. Yep, that had to be it. He didn’t get rattled by humans.
A long growl rattled from him, and he pursed his lips, waited for the woman to run screaming for her trailer. God had a sense of humor though, because he’d thrown a human with no survival instincts onto the doorstep of a monster. She didn’t even flinch back.
Instead, a slow smile stretched her lips—the first he’d seen from her, and good Lord, it transformed her face into something bewitching. His breath froze in his chest, and he couldn’t rip his gaze off the curve of her lips if he tried.
She was stunning. Clear green eyes boring into him, high cheekbones, full lips, and long lashes that kissed her cheeks when she ducked her gaze away from him. Her cheeks went all rosy, and in the soft morning breeze, her hair brushed her face.
He didn’t have much of a heart left, but if he did, it would be beating harder right now.
He cleared his throat and ripped his gaze from her. “I used to build decks with my family. I don’t know why I just told you that.”
“Wooden decks?” she asked, curiosity in her pretty voice.
“Wood, stone, brick, anything.”
“Why don’t you work with them anymore?” she asked.
Any answer he gave would make her ask more questions he couldn’t stomach, so he just shook his head.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“Because I need something to protect.” He shrugged a shoulder up and offered her a careless smile. “It’s protect something, or kill everything. No more digging. Do you want to go or what?”
She looked startled and looked around the woods, still immersed in darkness. “Go where?”
“I need supplies.”
Trina shifted her weight from side to side and cast a longing look at her trailer. From here, he could see the exact shape of the birthmark down her face. Even though she had put some make-up on it, he could still make it out. It started thicker under her eye and then tapered down to nothing as it reached her neck. Unique. He liked it. Liked the way it made that eye look even brighter, with the dark color around it.
She was hesitating though, and he didn’t want her to feel pressured.
“You don’t have to come. No skin off my back,” he murmured, and made his way to his truck.
“It’s just that I don’t have the right clothes on. I’m still in my pajamas. Can I change if I do it really fast?”
Oh. “Yeah. Make it quick.”
“Also, can I ask you another question?”
“No.”
“Can I buy you breakfast? And also myself some breakfast? I’m really hungry.” She gave him a bright grin that lit up the dark. “Don’t worry, I’m minding your rules. No more digging. You can tell me your life story slow if you want.”
Okay, she was sassy and he liked seeing that little spark in her. That wicked grin and molecule of humor made her more interesting.
“Don’t hold your breath, lady. It’s a boring-ass story that no one needs to hear.”
“Thank God, I can’t handle boring-ass stories anymore,” she quipped as she made her way back to her trailer. “I want donuts.”
Nuke waited until she was all the way inside and her door was closed before he jogged to his truck and mussed his hair in the window reflection. Dawn was creeping across the trailer park, and it was getting lighter out by the minute. He messed his crop of hair over one way, and then the other before he gave up completely. With a growl of frustration, ran his hands all through it and then gave his reflection a middle finger.
Who cared what his hair looked like?
She was here until Friday.
Trina was human. Humans died too easily.
He would eat her in one bite.
Chomp, chomp, girl, stop getting my attention.