Along Came a Spider Ch. 07

Saturday, 12:31am

Tabitha's door didn't so much open as it exploded off of its hinges.

The doorstop mounted on her wall caught it and sent it bouncing back to hit a leather-jacket-clad shoulder. The owner of that shoulder let out a muffled growl in response. He roughly repositioned the woman in his arms and swung the door behind them, only just managing to kick it shut with the toe of his boot before she dragged him further into the apartment. Tabitha's hands groped blindly for the walls as they staggered forward in a sort of drunken waltz, and after some time, they finally found the light switch that illuminated her dark hallway. James's fingers scrabbled against the buttons of her jeans. Tabitha wrenched his jacket down his arms. She located another switch—this one lit up the floor lamp near her dresser—just as James began to roll the denim down over her thighs. His leather jacket hit the carpet with the chime of metal buttons and zipper pulls.

The back of her legs hit the mattress, and then James was hauling her up into his arms and reclining her into the comforter. Her jeans were tossed onto the floor behind him without a second thought. One of his hands braced itself on the mattress, and the other one delved beneath her sweater to seek out the fastenings on her bra. Tabitha loosened her hold on his shoulders just long enough to wriggle helpfully out of her sweater, and she felt him smile over her lips in return. Her bra went next, dragged over her arms and dropped over the edge of the bed, but as she reached for the hem of his black thermal shirt, long fingers encircled her wrists and tugged them back above her head.

"Mmmmnf," she protested against his mouth, and he raised himself up to fix her with a disoriented stare. He shook his head and dipped back down to consume her in another violent kiss. Tabitha jerked her head to the side to argue, but then his lips were trailing up the side of her neck, and she felt the words dissolve in her throat. His fingers trembled as they tugged her panties down, and she clutched at his shoulders as he inhaled richly against her throat. When he let that breath out, it was with a low groan—a heady note that made Tabitha quiver in her sheets. With an air of reluctance, he detached himself from her neck and made his way slowly down the length of her body.

He took his time. His hands cupped her jaw and slithered lower to toy with her breasts. His lips traveled down her her torso in a trail of maddeningly insubstantial kisses, then slowly enveloped one of her nipples. The other one was captured by his left hand, rolled and tugged until it went stiff between his fingers. He followed the curve of her waist with his palm and kissed down the ladder of her ribcage, pressed his mouth hard into the valley just above her hip bone. When he nipped the skin of her belly, Tabitha uttered a hoarse yelp and pressed her shaking knees together.

He parted her thighs with his hands, and she squirmed with relief when his tongue began to probe curiously; soft and warm and perfectly wet. She felt her calves shudder. His grip tightened on her legs as they began to squeeze shut, keeping her opened for his hungry, eager mouth. She clapped her hands to her mouth to stifle the soft little noises that were escaping her lips, and he opened his mouth fluidly against her, then drew his lips back together to suck slowly at her clit. His eyes were half-shut from languor and those dark irises seemed to roll back into his head as he tasted her. His tongue slid up the length of her lips and lashed her torturously, and a soft moan tore from her chest.

"Oh, God," she practically wailed, her voice muffled pitifully beneath her hands. James wormed two fingers inside of her, and she thrashed as he began to curl them back and forth; steady, but insistent. The sensation sent sparks loose in her stomach, and her hips began to buck with his movements. He drew the sensitive nub in between his lips again, and he slowed the motion of his fingers as she lurched forward and sucked in a shuddering, jerking gasp. Her fingers seized frantic handfuls of his hair, and his eyes seemed to slit with delight as he felt her tighten and throb around his fingers.

"James," she exhaled as a wave of tranquility unwound her muscles. She lolled her head back and loosened her fingers from their vicegrip on his hair. "Oh, James..." He withdrew his hand and sucked lazily at his fingertips. The gesture was terribly reminiscent of their first encounter, and she tore her eyes from him briefly as visions of flashing eyes and blood-smeared lips assaulted her brain.

"Baby girl," he purred. He kissed her thigh and she blinked slowly, a small, dazed smile playing at her lips. As he rolled off of her, she thought she saw his hands twitch on the comforter, but then he was back on her carpet and treading into her hallway.

"Where—" she began as she squirmed back into her underwear, but he held up an impatient hand and vanished behind her door. Beyond it, she heard the faint squeak and click of her bathroom door swinging shut.

When he returned, his shirt was smooth and unwrinkled, his hair was unmussed and a bit sleeker than it had been, and his face bore the clear sheen of skin that had recently been splashed with water. He slumped back into bed next to her and she scooted over to give him room. Tabitha let herself bask in the dreamy, post-orgasmic silence for a few moments before she spoke.

"Sometimes," she said, "I wonder if we're doing this a little too much."

James gave her a sideways glance. "Doing what?"

"You know. Screwing."

"Screwing," he echoed, his face composed save for a slight jerk of his lips. Still, she could see the mirth in his eyes. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I've just never been this comfortable with someone. Before this, I don't even think anyone had seen me topless. And then you come along, and I'm prancing around our apartments naked every other day or so without a second thought."

James's mouth twitched again. "Prancing."

"You know what I mean."

"Mm."

Tabitha swallowed. She knew what she wanted to ask, but wasn't entirely sure how to ask it. "Did...did you want—" she began, but he paused her with a shake of his head.

"Don't worry about me. I enjoyed myself plenty."

"You still don't look so great," she said after a pause. It was true. The shadows under his eyes had deepened in color, and her hand seemed positively Baywatch-tan next to his. She stretched out her index finger to touch one of his knuckles and he flinched a bit. "Haven't you been sleeping at all?"

"It's a new place. I'm still adjusting," he said, closing his eyes and giving her a better view of the bruised hue of his eyelids. She studied them worriedly, and a little frown tugged at her lips. The question that had set up residence in the attic of her brain was on her tongue again, and this time, she knew she needed to know the answer.

"Will you...be moving again anytime soon?" she asked, and those eyelids eased back open, just a little.

"Not soon. But eventually, yes."

Those words drove a swarm of icy needles into her ribcage. "Where are you going next?"

"I was thinking about somewhere north. Maybe Maine. It's supposed to be beautiful in the spring."

Tabitha looked back down at the comforter and swallowed. "Maine," she said. A cool palm enveloped her hand, and when she glanced back up at him, he was smiling.

"Come with me," he said.

She blinked at him. "What?"

"We don't have to plan anything. We'd just save up money—not too much of it, but enough—and hop the next plane. It's easy, if you pack light enough."

"It sounds like we'd be running away," Tabitha said hesitantly.

"We wouldn't be," said James. "We'd just be looking for something new."

"But I'm comfortable here. I have a...a life here," she said. That's what it was, wasn't it? A life. She had a roof over her head, a job that she liked, a friend that dragged her out of the apartment on weekends. "Besides," she continued, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, "I've never been there. I don't even know if I'll like it."

James skimmed comforting fingertips over the length of her shoulder, his eyes scrutinizing her thinned lips, the new tension in her spine. Despite the chill of his touch, her skin seared beneath his fingers. "You don't. That's what makes it so exciting."

"Aren't you happy here?"

"Of course I am. But change is good. I need it—everyone does."

"But that's such an extreme length to go to for change," Tabitha stuttered. "Can't you just buy a new wardrobe, or pick up a new hobby, or...or dye your hair?"

This time, his smile showed teeth. "Are you just throwing out ideas, or do you have a color in mind?"

"Stop it."

James chuckled and rooted through his jeans pockets for his phone, but his smile waned when he toggled on the screen. "It's nearly one in the morning. I should go," he said, and Tabitha gave him an exasperated look.

"You can always stay the night, you know," she said. "I don't mind."

"I'd keep you up."

"No, you wouldn't. Even if you did—"

"I can't," James said, with such curt suddenness that Tabitha stopped short. The hurt must have been plain on her face because he added, softly, "I'm sorry. It isn't that I don't want to."

Tabitha worried her lip between her teeth and tried to believe him. "It's fine." James's index finger came up to press against her lower lip, slide it gently down from the confines of her teeth so he could kiss it. She shivered despite her frustration. "Do you work tomorrow?" she asked meekly.

He rolled onto his feet and straightened with a long stretch. "Yes—and the day after that."

"Can I text you, then?" she pressed, and he smiled.

"Anytime you want." He watched as she dropped down to the floor and jerked his head toward the doorway. "I should head back."

"I'll walk you out," Tabitha said in a halfhearted mumble, tailing him as he made his way out into her hallway. She hesitated as he retrieved his jacket from its place on the kitchen countertop, but then, as he turned towards her, she shimmied into his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands instinctively went to clasp her waist, and he knelt towards her almost helplessly as she teetered up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Her lips glided over his like warm butter, and when she flicked his lower lip with her tongue, he opened his mouth with a shudder. Lost in the rush of his breath and the taste of him, she only half-noticed his fingers constricting over her hips.

Far too soon for Tabitha's taste, James pulled back and fixed her with a faraway look. He swallowed and, with some reluctance, withdrew his hands from their tight grip on her waist. "You're making this a lot harder than it should be," he told her. Her lips quivered into a hopeful smile.

"That's the idea," she said, feeling a bit pleased with herself when mild surprise chased the heat from his expression.

"When I first met you, I never dreamed you could be such a troublemaker," he mused.

She gave him a half-smile. "I wonder what you did think of me."

For just a second, he looked as if he would have liked to tell her, but then he narrowed his eyes. "I see through your efforts, Tabitha Miller, and you won't be stalling me another minute," he said, and she felt herself deflate. He gave her another kiss—just one more—and then wrenched open the door and sidestepped behind it, like she was something he needed to be shielded from. "Goodnight," he said, but his voice was kinder now. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Goodnight," she mumbled. He turned and vanished from her doorway, and she leaned on the door to shut it behind him. She thought back to the night of their first encounter and wished she could have savored the feeling of him asleep behind her just a little more. Maybe she would have, she moped as she trudged back to her room, if she had known it was such a rare occurrence. On the other hand, she wondered if she was expecting too much of him—and then, with a twinge of self-loathing, if she had been too clingy tonight.

Dating is hard, she decided, just as a prim rap sounded at her door.

When she opened it, she was surprised to see James on the other side. She was almost elated...but then she saw the dark look on his face.

"You didn't lock your door," he said.

"Sorry—I must have forgotten."

"You shouldn't. It's dangerous," he said. Tabitha lifted her eyebrows.

"Is there a murderer on the loose or something?" she asked, and he gave her a pleading sort of look.

"It would make me feel better," he began, and, with a roll of her eyes, Tabitha pointedly slipped the door chain into its lock and glowered at him from the crack in her doorway.

"I'm going to bed now," she said. He rewarded her with an apologetic smile.

"Sleep tight," he said, and Tabitha eased the door shut as he slunk out of sight.

—

Saturday, 10:45 am

Tabitha hadn't slept tight.

Brooding and uncertain, her eyes hadn't shut properly until the sky outside of her blinds had grown dusty with dawn. When her alarm rattled her awake, she had to double-check the time on her cellphone to make sure that she had, in fact, slept for six hours and not five minutes. She stabbed the snooze button with her index finger and flopped back into the pillows with a groan.

She did the same when the alarm returned fifteen minutes later.

When her phone went off for the third time, she squinted at the blinding screen and panicked.

It was only through some miracle that she managed to drag herself out of bed on time and fly through the shower, lassoing her hair into a very uncharacteristic and slightly damp ponytail as she whisked herself out the door. In fact, she was so hypnotized by the steady crawl of the city from the bus window that she didn't notice her phone buzzing until it rattled out its last ring. When she finally fished it out of her pocket, (and winced at the name that had been added to her missed calls list), she didn't even have time to dial the number before it began to buzz anew. With a sigh, she answered it and held the receiver to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Remember me?" a familiar voice drawled. Each syllable was sticky with sarcasm. "I don't mean to come off as needy, but I feel like you kind of led me on when you put me on your Myspace Top Five in high school."

"Look," Tabitha said, but Lily's voice continued unhindered.

"I get that I don't have the intrigue that your undead neighbor does, but I like to think that I'm cute enough. Or do I need to step up my game? Is the creepy aesthetic old news for you now, because I can—"

"Don't be like that," Tabitha said. "It's only been a week...ish," she added as her sleep-addled brain ventured clumsily back to the last time she had seen her best friend. "...Right?"

"Right," Lily agreed, spitting venom with that one syllable. "Like almost two. I was starting to wonder if he'd made you into a sex thrall or something. Is that a thing? Because I'll kick his skinny ass. Cough twice if you need help."

Tabitha's cackle earned her odd looks from the several other bus passengers. "No, Lily, he isn't Bela Lugosi," she said. Lily's grunt sounded thoroughly unconvinced. "I told you already; we were wrong. I was wrong. It was a stupid idea to begin with, and...and he's really sweet," she admitted. "So sweet. I can't see him ever hurting anyone."

"So...you just hallucinated the blood on his mouth?"

Tabitha winced. "Maybe he was eating a popsicle? A really sticky red one?"

"In October."

"I don't know! He said he doesn't really mind the cold, so, maybe—"

"He doesn't mind the cold," Lily repeated, and Tabitha could practically hear her beginning to tick off fingers, "he only comes out at night, he ralphed red stuff all over the hedges the day after you two ate dinner, he's super pale and he's got big, dark eyes, and...oh, right—" She let out a bark of incredulous laughter. "—he showed up at his door, late at night, covered in blood. I mean, Tabs: if it walks like a vampire and quacks like a vampire, it's probably a fucking vampire."

"Maybe he only goes after rabbits or something." She tried to ignore the ludicrousness of their conversation. She never thought she'd have to defend another person's potentially murderous habits to her best friend. Maybe he only kills small animals. It's fine. "But that can't be the only explanation," she added, hoping that she hadn't already condemned him somehow. "What if he has an ulcer, or some horrible disease that makes him cough up blood or something? That could be why he's so pale—"

"Oh, please. You're just making excuses for him because you get to see him naked," Lily snapped, and Tabitha felt her heart constrict in her chest.

"Lily," she said, and her best friend went silent on the other end of the line. She lifted her right hand to chew nervously at her thumbnail, then closed her eyes. "Listen, I'm doing just about everything I can to stay sane about this, okay? I think...I think I'm falling in love with him, and he just can't be a monster, Lily; he just can't."

Lily made a choking sound. "In love with him?" she squeaked out. Tabitha didn't answer. She didn't know what to say. She hadn't even meant to say that, but now that she had, she wondered if there was even any other word for it.

After a few seconds, Lily's voice came back to life. "Okay," she said. "Okay. Wow. Um, okay."

"Please stop saying 'okay'," Tabitha said.

"Oka—I mean, alright." There came a long rush of breath and the shifting noises of someone reclining into a couch. "Do you want to...to talk about it?"

"Yes," said Tabitha. "Let's do that. Please."

"When are you free?"

"Tonight? At seven?" she said, and when Lily made a contemplative noise, she continued on with a certain feeling of desperation. "Look, last night he said he'd probably be moving again at some point, and he'd like me to come, and—"

"—Seriously?"

"—and, I mean, I-I think I could do it? Moving wouldn't be such a bad thing—"

"I will gladly be your tether to sanity," Lily interrupted. "I can be there at seven. Just don't go elope in Vegas before I get there. Promise?"

Tabitha slumped back in her seat. "Cross my heart."

"Okay. Um..." She heard Lily swallow and hoped she hadn't overwhelmed her too much. "...'Bye?"

"'Bye. I'll...you know...talk to you soon," Tabitha said.

"Right," said Lily, and after a moment of uncertain silence, the line went dead. Tabitha sighed as she pocketed her phone again. She hadn't intended to unload that on her all at once. When all of this was over, she was going to owe Lily a spa day or something. At the least, a very expensive dinner.

She looked out the window just in time to see the shop whizzing past them and leapt to her feet to yank on the stop request line.

As she scurried across the street, she spotted an immaculately shiny black SUV at the meter just in front of the bookstore. The front windows were too dark, and it had too many mirrors on the sides and too many electronics on the dashboard. A plainclothes police officer had her elbows propped up on the hood as she scribbled hurried notes onto a yellow notepad, tonguing a toothpick into her cheek with the diligence of a recent ex-smoker. Her skin was mocha-brown, and her black hair had been slicked into a thick, fluffy ponytail. As Tabitha approached the glass doors to the bookstore, her head snapped up with an off-putting suddenness that made Tabitha flinch. "Miss," she said, and Tabitha stopped cold with her fingertips on the door handle. "You wouldn't happen to be Tabitha? The bookkeeper?"