Fire & Brimstone (Neighbor from Hell 8) - Page 13

she cried.

“It’s not in my head,” she said, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight. “It’s not in my head!” she cried on a broken laugh as he sat there, smiling, holding her tightly and not really giving a damn that he had absolutely no idea what Celiac’s disease was, not while she was holding onto him like this.

“Thank you, Christopher,” she whispered as she pressed a soft kiss against his cheek and it was in that moment that he realized that he really didn’t mind being called by his real name.

Well, he didn’t mind when she called him Christopher, but if anyone else called him that he would make them wish they’d never been born.

Chapter 12

He needed to leave before she died of humiliation. Then again, if he so much as thought about taking his hand away from her stomach she was going to have to kill him, she decided as she lay on the couch, breathing slowly through her mouth as her stomach continued its violent assault, threatening to send her running for the bathroom or a trash can.

She wasn’t picky.

She was however, a moron, she thought, cringing as she continued to pretend that she was asleep, but the death grip that she had on his hand most likely gave her away. What was wrong with her crying like that in front of him? It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t also decided to crawl onto his lap, wrap her arms around him and sob against his shoulder for an hour.

Okay, so it was probably more like five or ten minutes before her stomach had started to act up again, reminding her that her stomach wasn’t happy with the food choices that she’d made earlier. When she’d been forced to wrap her arms around her stomach and curl up onto her side, Lucifer had laid down behind her, placed his hand on her stomach and somehow made everything worse.

She’d tormented this man for her own entertainment for the past five years, taking great joy in seeing just how far she could go before he lost his temper and released one of those ferocious little growls that she thought was so cute. She’d purposely screwed with his head, simply because she hadn’t been able to help himself. There had just been something about him that drew her in and made her want to see just how far she could push him and that was the guy that had dropped everything to help her.

There was absolutely no doubt about it…

She was a complete bitch.

God, she just wanted to curl up into herself and disappear, but the strong arm wrapped around her wouldn’t let her do that. He was keeping her safe and protecting her when she didn’t deserve it. He’d gone out of his way to help her when they both knew that he would have probably given anything and everything that he had if he never had to see her face again.

She should apologize, but honestly, how do you apologize to someone for everything she’d put him through? It didn’t matter that she hadn’t done it out of spite or because she hated him, which she didn’t. She’d done it, because…

Well, she really wasn’t sure why she’d toyed with him. The only thing that mattered was that she felt like a complete bitch now that he’d done everything within his power to help her. She should make things easier on him by telling him goodnight, that she was going to be okay and didn’t need him, but she couldn’t force the words out of her mouth, because she honestly wasn’t sure that she could handle being alone right now.

Twenty-nine years of hell and it all came down to a grain. She still couldn’t believe that the solution to her own personal hell was eliminating one food source out of her diet. All those years thinking that there was something seriously wrong with her, secretly terrified that she was actually dying of cancer or something more horrifying if that was even possible and all this time the pain, exhaustion and believing that she wasn’t going to be able to make it through another day was all because of something she’d ate.

She felt like an idiot.

“Is your stomach worse?” Lucifer asked, sounding genuinely worried about her as he pressed his hand against her stomach a little more firmly.

She really wished that he’d stop being so nice to her.

“It’s fine,” she said, giving up the pretense of sleeping and opened her eyes so that she could stare at the blank television screen. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine,” she said, not entirely sure that was true.

“When’s your evil twin coming back?” he asked, shifting behind her so that he could hold her more tightly against him.

“She’ll be back soon,” she said, having absolutely no idea if that was true or not since Melanie wasn’t exactly what she would consider a night owl.

Melanie was usually home, in her pajamas, devouring a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and designing websites around this time. She was probably out devouring baked goods or crying over that asinine promise to go through this with her. As much as she appreciated the offer, she wasn’t going to let her best friend give up her precious baked goods.

“Listen,” she said, placing her hand over his as she told herself that this was for the best and moving it aside so that she could sit up, “I really appreciate this, but I’ll be fine. I’m going to call it a night and get some sleep.”

Throwing him a warm smile, she said, “Thank you for everything,” as she headed for her room, hoping that he understood just how much everything he’d done for her meant to her.

“You’re welcome,” he said absently with a nod as he stood up.

Returning his nod, she headed towards the hallway that would take her to her bedroom, not bothering to show him to the door since he already knew how to find it. On her way to the bathroom she grabbed an old tee shirt and a pair of shorts so that she could change out of her clothes, which sometimes helped when her stomach hurt like this.

Coke and a warm bath helped too, but since she was now out of Coke and too lazy to draw a bath, she was going to settle for sleep. That is of course, if she was able to fall asleep. With the way that her stomach felt right now she’d probably be up all night until she finally said the hell with it and either got off her lazy ass and drew a bath or walked down the street for some more Coke.

Then again, if she was going to be up anyway, maybe she should consider making Lucifer breakfast as a thank you for everything that he did for her. It really was the least that she could do for him was the last rational thought that went through her mind as she walked back into her bedroom and spotted the large, and apparently half-naked, man in her bed.

Frowning, she paused by the door and ran every word they’d exchanged in the last twenty minutes, which really hadn’t been that many, through her head. But, as hard as she tried, she just couldn’t remember inviting him to strip naked and take over her bed. Just in case she was wrong, she did it again, but nothing changed.

“Would you hurry up? Some of us have to get up early in the morning,” Lucifer, who was clearly in the middle of some sort of mental crisis, said as he gestured for her to get her ass moving and join him in bed.

Yeah, that really wasn’t happening, she thought as she reached behind the door and grabbed the baseball bat she kept for just such an occasion. Instead of jumping out of bed and apologizing for being an asshole as he ran for the safety of the door, he simply cocked a brow and waited.

“Feel free to leave now,” she said, hoisting the bat up against her shoulder to show him that she meant business.

“And feel free to stop being a pain in my ass and put the damn bat down before you hurt yourself,” he said, sounding a little too cocky for her peace of mind. So, she hefted the bat higher up on her shoulder before remembering that she was right-handed and swung the bat over to-

“Ow!”

Hit herself in the face.

Sighing heavily while she gasped in pain, he threw back the covers, got up and headed for the door. Glaring at his back, she decided to put the bat down before she did any further damage and cupped her poor jaw.

“Cocky bastard,” she mumbled grumpily as she walked over to her bed, climbed in and closed her eyes as she pretended that she’d meant to hit herse

lf in the face so that she could get him out of her bed.

It had given her a tactical advantage to reclaim her bed from-

“Here,” the man that refused to go said as he placed an ice pack on her face.

“I’m fine,” she argued, as she grudgingly reached up and held the ice pack to her head.

“Yeah, you’re doing great,” he said dryly as he crawled into bed next to her and without being asked, because at this point she felt that he owed her for all the bullshit that he’d put her through in the last ten minutes, placed his hand back on her stomach where it belonged.

Tags: R.L. Mathewson Neighbor from Hell
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