Eighty-eight steps down, my hand on the smooth pewter of a railing forged painstakingly. Beautiful work. The joins almost seamless but slightly raised so as not to pinch or catch. The scrollwork in each step left unfinished for traction on the ice-cold metal.
I have descended this staircase a thousand times and every time is with a death grip and my eyes glued to that railing for guidance. That railing is the only thing that separates my life without Jake from life with Jake.
I am in bare feet and a slip of a nightgown this time. That's why I'm so cold. My clairaudience for Jacob's voice waking me from a fitful sleep means I have to check on him. Maybe he is cold too. Maybe something is wrong. Maybe he found a way to sculpt himself back to life out of the thimbleful or two of ashes I have left.
In my distraction I stumble on the step and sit down hard, still with both hands on the railing, now high above my head. I have twisted my elbows and the pain from the dislocation flares up white hot and I let go. I rest my forehead against the center post and automatically smooth my gown around my legs. I close my eyes.
A warm arm slides around my shoulders and pulls me in.
I open my eyes and look up. Ben kisses my forehead.
Why are you down here again, bee?
I'm looking for Jake.
He isn't here, baby. Come back up.
He's here. I heard him again.
Come on, Bridget. Let's go back to bed.
No.
I pulled away and stood up. I wobbled on the next step down and four hands shot out. Ben caught my shoulders and two hands came out of the dark and caught my hands. Jacob's glorious crown of gold came into the light.
He's right, princess. You need sleep.
You called for me. I'm here because you need me.
I don't do that, honey. You really should be sleeping.
I'm just staring at his eyes. Out here, outside of the concrete room with the fear of Cole keeping me cold his eyes are different only I don't know how, exactly, they just are. I want to know if he can still do it. Still hypnotize me. Still pull me in and keep me there to do whatever he wants me to do, or make me feel things that aren't real like security and peace to buy himself time to get untangled from my emotional tentacles. He didn't want to drown so he exploded mid-flight instead. You want to talk about dramatic exits? I'll show you a fucking dramatic exit.
I shake my head. I can't think.
I let go of his hands and turned around, giving him my back so he could read the words he has sung and I looked up at Ben. I nodded.
I need to sleep.
Ben took my hand and pulled it up under his arm tightly in hand and we went back up the steps. Slowly this time. He is humming under his breath and I am well aware I have just been spellbound and that's it's for my own good. Bridget functions better vaguely mesmerized, and Jacob knows that. That's why he called for me. Only I need to work out why he still has the same abilities he had before.
I also need to check and see if all of my forks are bent again. Jacob loved to destroy the cutlery without touching it. I wish I could do that.
Oh, wait, maybe I don't.
