Into the Hollow (Experiment in Terror #6)

CHAPTER SEVEN

The days leading up to our trip North went by quickly. Which was both a good and bad thing. Ever since our altercation and sexual threats outside the convenience store things were kind of strained between us. Well, they were to me. Dex seemed completely fine and at ease, despite dropping some suggestive comments here and there. They never went further than that, which meant Dex wasn’t really trying and just teasing instead. I could live with that…for now.

Of course, I felt a lot better now that I had the IUD inside me. Not that I got it because of Dex, because really, I didn’t, but it was nice knowing it was there for protection in case something happened. I couldn’t go down that road again and I had to play it safe.

Rebecca was so sweet to take me and I apologized profusely to her, feeling bad for dismissing her problems and for ragging on Dex so much. She understood, cuz she’s made of awesome, and I made a promise to myself not to put him down when I was around her. Besides, the longer I was living with him, the more I was warming up to him. Maybe not my heart - I liked to keep that in the deep freezer - but definitely my body. Sleeping in the room next to him, hearing him in the shower, sneaking around for moments with his shirt off just so I could get a glimpse of what his tattoo was (regrettably, he’s remained clothed around me) was making me a bit crazy and my libido was off the charts. I couldn’t even masturbate without fearing I’d cry out his name and scare the damn dog.

Hence why the IUD seemed smarter with every waking second.

We had to rise early on the day we left for the shoot since the drive to the town of Snow Crest, BC, was at least eight hours away. We were still in Washington, just passing the snow-covered town of Ellensburg, when I noticed Dex’s eyes weren’t quite on the road but on my chest.

I sunk back into my seat a bit and lowered my scarf over my V-neck. “Can I help you?”

He grinned and popped a piece of gum in his mouth. For once, it wasn’t Nicorette.

“Just wondering why your breasts are on display when we’re heading up to the Canadian Rockies at the end of winter. That’s all.”

I grunted and pulled my cardigan around me. “I’m running out of clothes. This was the only clean shirt left.”

“You know we could make a clothing optional rule around each other. That way we’d always be naked and never have to do laundry.”

The way he said it made me shift in my seat uncomfortably.

“All right, Dex, quit it. You’re beating a dead horse.”

“I’m beating something horse-sized, that’s for sure.”

I shot him an unimpressed look. “Do you really think you’ll win me over by having sex with me?”

He scratched at the side of his chin. “Well, they say the way to a woman’s heart is through her vagina.”

I almost laughed and stopped myself just in time. I shook my head instead and looked out the window at the rolling white, treeless hills. I thought that now that we were on our way to do the show, he would have simmered down a bit and gotten distracted by the Sasquatch project, but that didn’t seem to be the case. It made me wonder if perhaps he needed to up his meds, perhaps down some Ritalin. Maybe I needed that too.

“I forget, are you going to get hassled for bringing your medication across the border?” I asked, having a hard time remembering if we got hassled the last time we went to BC.

“What medication?” he asked.

I had to look at him. He was looking back at me with an open expression.

“Your medication…you know. The…”

“The pills you switched on me without telling me?” he filled in. His voice had a flinty edge to it which made me cringe internally.

“Uh, yeah those.”

“I’m not on medication anymore, kiddo. I quit the day you left. And I never looked back.”

I was dumbstruck. And impressed. “But…the ghosts. Haven’t they come back?” >

He shrugged and sucked on his lip before speaking. “Sometimes they do. They did at first. The first month was the roughest. But things have been fine since. I think maybe all the working out has been helping too, somehow. Maybe it’s a body-mind thing.”

Shit. I had seen Dex on withdrawal from his meds. He was making it sound easy but I couldn’t imagine how he must have been after I left, to go through all of that on his own, with only friends who didn’t really understand the way I did. No wonder he never came after me right away. He was probably too afraid to leave the house.

I looked down at my hands, feeling small. The guilt over the pill-switching was swarming over me with hot flashes.

“I’m OK,” he said after he shot me a reassuring look. “I feel great. If you can believe it, my sex drive is much higher now.”

“What a surprise,” I muttered softly. I raised my eyes to meet him. “Listen, I’m so sorry about the pill-switching, I didn’t know what I was doing, I-”

“Perry, it’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. That was a terrible thing for me to do. I totally broke your trust.”

“Yeah, you did,” he sniped, eyes flashing. A beat later he relaxed. “But I understand too. I know why you did it. It didn’t mean I wasn’t angry as all hell but I know why. I’m over it. Remember, like you said, it’s in the past. It’s done.”

I squinted at him. “You’re really not mad?”

He smiled, his eyes soft. “Do I look mad?”

I shook my head, hoping he’d always look like that to me. Open and trusting in ways I could never be.

We sat in silence for a few moments, lost in our thoughts.

“We are really f*cked up,” I finally remarked.

“Yeah, kiddo, we are. Now come on, let’s go hunt Sasquatch.”

~~~

The drive to the small town of Snow Crest took most of the day, passing through the dry, arid landscapes of Eastern Washington and the panhandle of Idaho before we reached the winding, snow-capped peaks of the Canadian Rockies. By the time we got to our vintage motel with its antler-motif and mint-green coloring scheme, it was dark out and I was an unfortunate combination of feeling cagey and hungry.

Compared to all the other times Dex and I had gone “hunting” for our show, I was completely at ease. I wasn’t nervous. I didn’t feel any trepidation about our subject. This so-called Sasquatch would be the perfect way to sink back into Experiment in Terror and there was practically no research to be done. What could really be said about the beast that didn’t exist?

Dex, on the other hand, seemed a bit more serious about the whole ordeal and was pensive for a lot of the car ride, making only the occasional small talk and changing songs on the mp3 player. Maybe it was because he was going to be on camera for once.

There just wasn’t all that much to go on. A man called Rigby Adams ran an outfitters company out of the mountains surrounding Snow Crest, taking tourists out on week-long hiking expeditions. Sometimes on horseback, but recently with llamas, who handled all the gear as people towed them along. He also ran hunting trips on the side. According to Jimmy, he’d always been seeing glimpses of this supposed creature in the woods and had evidence of the extra-large footprints it left behind. The reports had made the local news and attracted some explorers over the winter but nothing had turned up. That was until last week, when a member of his staff, a woman named Christina, was reportedly attacked by the creature and needed to get treatment for lacerations to her leg.

Christina was better now and would be meeting Dex and I for breakfast in the morning. The thought of it made my stomach rumble as we checked into the motel, the mountain air chilling me to my core. Even though we were in a bastion of civilization, the sky was black against the ghostly white peaks, looking faded in the darkness like old photographs.

Inside, the motel clerk was a smiling woman with a ton of turquoise jewelry around her neck and wild grey hair.

“Here are your keys.” She passed them over the counter to Dex, who gave her a wink of thanks.

As we walked toward our rooms, my fingers growing numb from the cold, I had to remark, “I’m surprised you got me my own room.”

“Well, you’re right next door to me, as usual. Wouldn’t want to break any of the rules, even on vacation.”

My room was, in fact, right next to his and even had one of those locked doors that joined the rooms from the inside. I had just put my bag on the ground and tested the bed for firmness when there was an abrupt rap at the inner door, making my heart jump.

I got up and stood anxiously beside it.

“Who is it?” I asked teasingly.

“Bigfoot,” Dex answered from his room.

“What do you want, Mr. Foot?”

“Please, just call me Big.”

I snorted. “You wish.”

“You know.”

I really didn’t need to picture his dick at that moment.

“Dex?” I prodded.

“I think I saw a pizza joint when we rolled into town,” he said, voice muffled. “This is buttf*ck Canada so I’m not sure we’ll have much more selection than that. I’m going to try and order in, do you want some?”

Being with Dex was doing hell to my waistline. Unlike him and his daily gym sessions, I couldn’t afford to keep eating junk. But we would be hiking for the next few days, so what the hell. I told him to get me whatever he wanted and in 30 minutes we were sitting cross-legged in his room, me on one bed and him on the other. We ate the thin pizza with its overdose of marinara sauce and flipped through the three crackly television channels until we were stuck watching a documentary on the CBC.

Despite the casual munchies and TV watching, sitting there with Dex wasn’t as comfortable as I would have hoped. He seemed content just to relax and kept oddly quiet, though the constant drumming of his fingers on his thigh suggested he had something on his mind. His face was ashen from the long drive, which might have explained why the witty and suggestive comments had dwindled. It sounded funny, but I kind of missed them. Though, when you thought about it, being in a cheap motel room together probably wasn’t the safest place for sexual sparring.

When the program was coming to an end, he gave a yawn, settling back into the stiff floral comforter.

I eyed the clock, which read 9pm.

“Hey, I think the hot tub is still open,” I suggested, recalling the tiny tub outside surrounded by a tall metal gate. “The sign said it closed at 10.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Did you bring a bathing suit with you?”

I hadn’t thought of that. “Well, no. But I have matching bra and underwear.”

He turned his attention back to the television. “So going commando was just a one-time thing, then.”

My cheeks burned at the memory. “You sure you don’t want to go?”

He frowned and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “You’re being strangely insistent. I didn’t know you wanted me with my shirt off that badly.”

Bingo.

“What does your new tattoo say?” I pounced, unable to help myself.

His grin spread and he folded his hands behind his head, his black sweater lifting up slightly, showing off a tempting trail of hair and the dark waistband of his boxer briefs. “Oh, so you really do want to get my shirt off. I’m flattered, Perry. I thought it was just the other way around.”

I leaned over so I was at the edge of my bed, my eyes imploring his. “What does it say?”

He gave his head one shake. “You’ll find out in due time, kiddo.”

“Why is it a secret?”

His eyes shone as he tilted his head at me. “It’s not a secret. It’s a tattoo. And now it’s a bargaining chip.”

“Bargaining chip?” I didn’t like the sounds of this.

“Yes. I’ll show you my back if you show me yours.”

I straightened up. “Just my back?”

“Did I say back? I meant front.” His eyebrows wagged. “No bra.”

I crossed my arms and inched back. “You’re a jerk.”

He shrugged. “So I’ve heard.”

Even though I had mastered the art of glaring thanks to being around him, Dex looked totally amused and unaffected.

I quickly had to remind myself that I didn’t care.

“All right, well I’m going to go sleep,” I told him, getting up.

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” he replied. “Knowing us, they’d probably be demonic.”

“Right,” I muttered and left Dex lying back on his bed, eyes on the ancient television, still and blasé except for the tapping of his fingers on the quilt. The tattoo remained a mystery. And, in a way, so did Dex.

Even though it was quite early, the drive had taken a toll on me too and after I had taken a hot shower from a woefully low-pressure faucet, I crawled right into bed. The foreign, scratchy bedsheets and unfamiliar darkness of the room didn’t even keep me up for more than a few minutes. This was a rarity, considering that ever since the possession, I hadn’t been sleeping well. And who could blame me, really. When you’ve had actual monsters under your bed, nighttime becomes that much scarier.

My sleep was dreamless. At least, I didn’t remember anything when I was awakened by an anguished cry from Dex’s room followed by a deafening thud that shook my walls and caused a painting on the wall to fall to the ground.

“Dex!” I yelled, bolting straight out of bed. I stumbled over the blanket and made my way blindly to the door between our rooms. I quickly unlocked my door and thankfully found his unlocked.

I shoved it open and burst into his room.

It couldn’t have been an eerier scene.

The room was dark except for a light coming from the bathroom vanity area. The light didn’t do much to illuminate the room, however, because a bed, the same bed I had been sitting on earlier, was flipped entirely over and propped up against the bathroom door.

Dex was standing in front of it, back to me, an unmoving silhouette in a weary pose.

“Dex,” I said cautiously, my heart in my throat. I walked carefully across the room, avoiding the bedding and pillows that had been scattered around.

I stopped right to the side of him. He was wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants and shaking lightly, from his loose fingers that hung down at his sides, all the way up to the flashing whites of his eyes. His gaze never left the flipped over mattress. He was staring at it like it was going to attack him any minute.

“Hey,” I whispered. He didn’t acknowledge me until I reached for him, touching his elbow. Then he jumped and spun around to face me, sucking in a giant rush of air. If he looked dazed before, now he was awake and aware.

And more afraid.

He shook harder, swallowing harder, as his eyes tried desperately to tell me something that his mouth couldn’t.

It scared the living shit out of me, causing my skin to prickle down my back.

I quickly grabbed him and brought him close. The action was instinctive. I wrapped my arms around him and brought his head down into my neck. He was almost hyperventilating.

I had no idea what to do or what to say. I had no idea what happened. Had he flipped the bed over and thrown it against the vanity? The mirror behind it was cracked and glass had scattered on the ground. Why? Was he angry? How could he even flip the bed by himself? Why was he convulsing in my arms like a punished dog, making whimpering noises at my throat?

“It’s going to be OK,” I told him, holding him tighter. “Do you need help? A doctor?”

He shook his head violently and I squeezed him again.

“That’s OK,” I reassured him. “Let’s go to my room. Come on.”

I led him out of the room, keeping my grip steady on him, and ushered him through the doors. I closed his and as I did so, his head snapped up.

In the darkness of my room I could only see the glinting whites of his eyes.

“Lock it,” he said in an ominous voice.

I nodded and quickly threw the lock over. I did the same to my door and led him over to my bed, sitting him down. I leaned over and flicked on the bedside light.

He propped his elbows up on his knees and held his head between his hands. I kneeled down in front of him and was suddenly reminded that I had in fact seen him like this before. In an alley in Seattle, when Abby had decided to pay him a visit.

That thought made my lungs constrict painfully, making it hard to breathe. Abby was gone. Abby had been destroyed. I couldn’t deal with the alternative, I couldn’t.

Now I was shaking. I took his hands off of his face and replaced them with mine. I got a good grip around his ears and hair and moved my head up until he had no choice but to look at me.

I didn’t want to ask the question because I didn’t want to hear the answer. But I had to know.

“Dex, please, what happened?” I asked, my voice cracking in its whisper.

His eyes, so close to mine, ebbed and flowed like a tumultuous tide.

“Please tell me.” I brought my eyes off his and focused on his lips. Wanting him to talk. Wanting to kiss him. I blamed the adrenaline that was rushing through my body. I wasn’t thinking clearly.

“I saw her,” he said in a voice that seemed to float, delicate as air.

My heart pounded hard in my chest, as if it was just waking up. I struggled to breathe.

“Abby?” I squeaked.

His head shook, barely. “Not Abby.”

“Who?”

He closed his eyes, brow furrowed in some internal pain. I stroked the side of his face with my fingers, feeling the solidness of his high cheekbones, the ever-present scratch of his facial hair, rough and hard under my touch. I hoped it was calming him as much as it was calming me. >

“Who, Dex?” I repeated. I smoothed the skin under his eyes with my thumb until he finally looked back at me. They were wet with tears and my soul felt like it drained out of me and onto the floor. I didn’t know if I wanted to know anymore, about someone worse than Abby. Someone that could reduce this strong man to this. I could feel his fragility in my hands, like I was holding eggshells.

His lips moved and a puff of air and words came out, words I couldn’t understand. I moved my face closer to his and brushed his lips with mine. The room seemed to vibrate but maybe it was the beating of my heart.

“Please tell me,” I whispered into his mouth.

His eyelids lowered as he gazed at me. “I don’t want you to know. I can’t…” he paused and licked his lips and his tongue invariably caught the inner rim of mine. It took everything I had inside to not go further with it. My chest heaved with the breath I was trying to control.

As scared, as curious as I was, I didn’t want to upset him further. Not tonight.

“It’s all right,” I told him softly, my lips bumping against his as we spoke. “Just tell me how to help.”

“Let me stay with you,” he asked gently. “Let me sleep with you.”

There was no hint of seductiveness in his voice, though his heavy eyes and parted lips suggested otherwise.

The question must have been on my face because he continued, smooth and gentle, “Just like this. I need you tonight, just like this. Please.”

I found myself nodding, not really knowing at all what he meant. When he said sleeping, did he mean actual sleeping or sex? And if it was sex, how come I wasn’t pushing him away or coming up with excuses? Where was my rulebook now?

He got to his feet and I followed. He picked up the comforter and sheets from the floor and threw them on the bed. Then he climbed in, leaving an open, inviting spot in the bed for me. He nodded at the light for me to turn it off.

As if in slow motion, I clicked it off and the room went black. I was terrified of two things; whatever “she” was in the other room, if she’d come in here and find us. And getting into that bed with a man I used to love.

I gathered up my courage and climbed in with him. I was right up against his body, now warm from the covers, feeling the silkiness of his t-shirt rubbing against my arm. Thank goodness he was wearing clothes.

He shifted beside me so he was on his side and I leaned toward his chest. He put one arm around me, bringing his head down to mine. He put one hand into my hair and stroked it soothingly. I wished my nerves would follow suit, but his touch only excited them.

“Thank you,” he whispered. My eyes adjusted to the dark of the room and I could see the outline of his face blocking everything else. “I just need you for a night. Just a night.”

His lips met mine with a startling suppleness. I should have stopped him. I should have said no. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to.

I let him kiss me, let my tongue dance delicately with his, feeling a wave of hotness flush down from lips to lips. Last time I had the strength to stop his kiss, this time I had none. I reached up with my hand and grabbed his bicep, getting excited at the firmness and strength he possessed. If he wanted me, he could have me and any way he wanted. And if he didn’t start to devour me, I would devour him.

If that thought didn’t surprise me, it was what Dex did next.

He gently pulled away and ran his thumb over my lip.

“Sorry,” he said. “This isn’t me trying. I just need to be with you.”

I cocked my head from the pillow, thoughts jumbled and hormones raging. He was being completely sincere and it still confused the hell out of me.

“Come here,” he whispered into my ear and pulled me in until he was spooning me. I could feel his rock hard erection now, pressed up against my ass, which only invigorated me more. He held me tight and I felt his lips at the back of my neck.

“Perry,” he murmured through my hair.

I cleared my throat, trying to find my vocal chords. “Yeah?”

Silence. I listened, waiting in the black for his answer. Heavy breathing was my reply. He was asleep.

Minutes later I joined him, drifting off in his arms. It was one of the deepest sleeps I’d ever had.

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