Edyn (The Essence Project Book 1) Read online

  I tried not to think about it, telling myself that worrying wouldn’t do any good.

  Exhaustion was still tugging at me, but I felt somewhat renewed after my shower. It felt like I was overcoming this post-whatever-is-wrong-with-me fatigue a lot faster than before. I ran my left hand over my face, my right hand resting in my lap. The bullet had only grazed my arm, but it was still agonizing.

  Was this my life now? Always being injured?

  I sighed.

  Leaning back on the chaise lounge, I scanned the room, admiring Stella’s taste in everything. Her coffee table was made out of cracked mirrors, and I noticed a red leather bound book on the shelf underneath. Pulling it out with my good hand, I noticed that it was as battered and bruised as I was.

  I flipped open the cover to the first page and gasped. The paper was the heavy kind of a sketchbook, and staring back at me was an intricately detailed drawing of an angel. The drawing was done just in pencil, but was expertly shaded in all the right places. What I couldn’t get over though, was the angel’s face. She looked just like me. It looked like wind was blowing her hair back from her face, and she was dressed all in some pretty badass clothes. Her legs were clad in skin tight pants and combat boots. Her torso was sporting some kind of corset over long sleeves. Her wings were spread behind her, every feather painstakingly created with utmost precision, but drawn more faintly as if to indicate they weren’t readily seen by the naked eye. Her hands were spread to her sides wearing fingerless gloves, and she radiated raw power. Luke 22:43 was written in the bottom corner. I didn’t know that verse off the top of my head, so I made a mental note to look it up later. It was her expression that got me, though. Eyes closed, her face revealed years of pain, but at the same time hope and longing. A face that had seen another lifetime.

  Eager to see more, I flipped the page. This drawing was the same angel standing over a man. This time her wings were folded, still drawn lighter, and she had a hand gently on the man’s face. His eyes were closed, and she was staring down at him with a worried expression.

  The next page her wings were gone, but she was in his arms with her head thrown back in laughter. The man, who I realized looked just like Ryker, was smiling down at her.

  I flipped the page again, and was shocked by the next illustration. This one was of the man that looked like Ryker. He was kneeling with his hands curled into fists away from his sides. His head was thrown back and his face was detailed perfectly into an agonizing scream. Shadows were drawn all throughout the background, only broken by the ever faint outlines of people and endless eyes accusing him. Scrawled in the bottom corner of the page was Ezekiel 18:20. I had no idea what that verse was, either.

  The beauty and emotion captured in the drawings carved their way into the very center of my being. The other pages were filled with more drawings, all equally as beautiful. How the artist had captured the fire of a sunset in nothing but pencil astounded me. How they portrayed every line on an elderly woman’s face was incredible. They seemed to capture the very essence of people, not just what they looked like on the outside.

  I flipped back to the picture of the man on his knees and ran my fingers ever so lightly over his face. A tear splashed on the bottom of the page, and I realized I was crying. I felt like I was looking into the mind of whoever had drawn these, seeing every bit of pain and beauty that they had.

  "I’d wondered where I’d left that," Ryker’s voice softly made its way to me from the front door.

  My head snapped quickly to the right, and I saw him leaning casually against the door frame with his arms crossed across his chest.

  "Hey, beautiful," he said quietly.

  "Ryker," I whispered and set the sketchbook aside.

  Shaking, I stood up slowly. Ryker took a cautious step towards me, and then hesitated. I, however, didn’t and was across the room with my left arm around his neck holding him as tightly as I could manage. A small cry escaped my lips, and I weakened against him. In my rush to hold onto him, I’d had the foresight to not use my injured arm. I didn’t have the foresight to realize, however, that I would be squishing it between us while trying to protect it, and pain rang out, causing me to groan.

  Ryker leaned back and searched my face. "What is it?"

  "Gunshot," I winced.

  His face hardened, and blind fury raged in his eyes. "What? Who?" was all he could manage to get out.

  "Let’s sit, and I’ll tell you everything," I said taking his hand.

  We crossed to the chaise lounge and sat, Ryker never taking his hands off of me as if he feared letting go would result in losing me forever. I recounted what had happened at my mother’s house, and I found myself crying again as I was talking about her only when Ryker wiped the tears from my cheeks ever so gently.

  "Why did you run?" he asked.

  I couldn’t look at him. "I was overwhelmed by all you told me. I was having trouble processing it and…" I swallowed. "It scared me," I finished quietly.

  Ryker deflated a bit beside me. "You know I would never, ever hurt you, don’t you?"

  "I know, I know. It was just a lot after this morning. I mean, I went from being terrified of losing you in the Pits to seeing you kill that guy like it was nothing, and then just hearing all you said. It was just a lot."

  He cleared his throat, searching for the right words. "I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to stay with me. I don’t deserve you." I started to interrupt, but he cut me off, "I’m serious, Edyn. I’ve done unforgivable things, and you should be with someone better than me. But," he dropped his voice, "I just can’t let you go. I’ll never stop loving you, and even if you decide you want to leave me, there won’t be room for anyone else in my heart. I will fight for us. I’ll be a selfish bastard, and I’ll keep trying until you hate me, but I’m not giving this up." His eyes were pleading, searching mine for any shred of hope he might find. "I love you, Edyn. Fiercely and forever."

  My heart swelled, and warmth flooded through me. How could I have been so stupid earlier? How could I have questioned anything? This man wasn’t a monster. He had been dragged into a world of terrible things and fought like Hell to overcome them.

  Ryker smirked.

  "What?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "Oh nothing. You’re just glowing."

  "Well what do you expect after you say stuff like that?"

  Laughing, he said, "No, you’re glowing again."

  I looked down at my hands and saw that he was right. They were faintly emanating that warm light. "And why is that funny?"

  He cupped my face. "I think I figured out one of your triggers. Every time something intense happens between us you light up like a the fourth of July, so I know that must mean you’re not going anywhere. And that," he added, "makes me the happiest man in the world."

  I leaned my head against his chest, his arm around my shoulders. "Maybe this isn’t a bad thing? I mean, it hasn’t hurt me yet. Or you."

  "Just think, we’ll save on our electricity now, and we won’t need to buy light bulbs anymore. I might need to get a mask to wear to bed though," he added.

  Smacking him, I said, "Oh whatever, smartass. So, this is yours?" I lay my hand on the sketchbook.

  "Mhmm," he responded. "I meant it when I said I’d forgotten where I’d put it. I haven’t drawn for awhile."

  "So who is the angel supposed to be?" I flipped to the first page.

  I could feel Ryker smiling, and he said, "You have to ask?"

  Looking up at him, "But I thought you haven’t drawn in a while?"

  "I haven’t. Those drawings are about two years old."

  "But, how?"

  He pulled me closer and kissed the top of my head. "I told you, it’s always been you. I drew you the way I imagined you would look if you’d survived the snake bite and grown up. Looks like I was pretty close."

  "It’s amazing."

  "No it’s not," he said. "My heart always knew it was only you, and it knew exactly what to expect. I was just a
ble to put that on paper."

  I flipped the page to the one of the man on his knees. "And this is you?"

  He glanced at the page and nodded silently.

  "Are you still hurting that much?"

  He hesitated. "Not like I was," he said. "You have to realize, after all that I’ve done, I’ll always be hurting, but having you back has taken so much of that away now. You’re healing me."

  My fingers brushed the scripture at the bottom. "Which one is this one?"

  Sighing, Ryker recited from memory,"‘The soul who sins shall die. The son shall not suffer for the iniquity of the father, nor the father suffer for the iniquity of the son. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself.’ It’s to remind myself that I’ve made my own choices, and one day I’ll have to answer for them. I like your verse better, though," he flipped the page back to first one of me. "‘An angel from Heaven came to him and gave him strength.’"

  "Why did you draw me as an angel?" I asked.

  Ryker rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, for one you were dead. At least to my knowledge. For two, I’ve just always known how pure of a heart you had so it would only make sense that you must be an angel."

  I laughed. "Hardly."

  "Well you always were to me, anyway. You still are. Although you’re much more beautiful than I imagined, and much snarkier."

  Just then, the door opened. At the same time, Ryker said, "I love you, kiddo."

  Stella was closing the door, a pained look on her face. She wiped it away as quickly as it had come, and I wondered if she had heard what Ryker had just said.

  It must still hurt.

  She walked to her tiny kitchen carrying a brown paper bag.

  "Y’all hungry?" she asked.

  I looked at her incredulously. "I thought you went to go find him?" I asked, pointing at Ryker with my thumb.

  She turned and stared. "I did. And when I found him I told him where you were and went to grab food. So, my question remains. Are you hungry?"

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Famished," I said, just remembering that we hadn’t eaten at all today.Whatever she'd brought back smelled heavenly. There were no food limitations down here like there were Topside, and it was still something I was getting used to.

  "Ryker, get your ass up and come get some. I’m not your maid, and she’s hurt," Stella said with a half-cocked grin.

  He sighed and got up to get our food, saluting. "Yes, Ma’am."

  We laughed as we ate. It felt good, light. The weight of the day had been lifted. Ryker seemed so comfortable with Stella, and for a moment I was saddened watching them together. She’d gotten so much time with him that was supposed to be mine. A sense of gratefulness flooded through me though, that he hadn’t been alone the last seven years. I couldn’t truly understand the torment he had gone through, and going through it alone seemed utterly unbearable. It amazed me that he had survived through all of it and could be relatively normal.

  When the remnants of dinner lay cold in cartons spread all over the coffee table, I lazily laid my head in Ryker’s lap, listening to them tell stories from the past few years. Stella sat across from us and from time to time I would catch a flash of sadness on her face as she remembered stuff with Ryker. They were both polite enough to leave their bedroom history out of it all, and I was grateful. I was still trying to reconcile that in my head, that the two of them had more than just a friendship together, but I wasn’t overly bothered by it. Seeing the way Ryker looked at me was all the reassurance I needed.

  "Shit, Edyn," Stella said.

  "What is it now?" I said, frowning.

  She pointed. "Your arm is bleeding through the bandage."

  I sat up and looked at my right arm to see that she was right. The white bandage I had awkwardly placed over my wound was stained scarlet.

  Ryker took my arm in his hands, peeling back the bandage, and I winced. "Did you stitch this up at all?"

  I cast him a look like he was crazy. "Well I would have done it with my third arm, but I couldn’t find any thread."

  He sighed. "Stel can you go grab the suture kit? I’ve got to put this back together." Looking at me, he said, "Bullet wounds normally require stitches. You’re lucky it only grazed you."

  Stella had headed back into the bathroom to get the kit, and Ryker was still assessing the damage. "I almost lost you today," he said.

  I placed my hand over his. "No you didn’t. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. We’ve got too much life left together, kid."

  "I’m worried now that they’ll suspect you’re here in the Circle. Jophiel’s not going to be happy, so he’s bound to ramp up the search. I don’t think you should go Topside again for a while now that they know you’re in the area."

  Nodding, I exhaled.

  "I know it sucks staying cooped up, and I really don't want to fight about it again, but it’s just too dangerous right now. It’s probably best if you stay either here or at home and try not to go out since word’s already spread about the explosive chick that’s on my arm."

  I laughed. "You’re that much of a big shot, huh?"

  Ryker rolled his eyes as Stella came back holding a blue plastic box the size of a shoe box. I had seen it next to the first aid kit in the bathroom but hadn’t looked into it. She handed it to Ryker and plopped back down on the overstuffed arm chair that she’d dragged over from the corner before we started eating.

  He popped the lid open and pulled out a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels Honey Whiskey and handed it to me.

  "What’s this for?" I asked.

  He poured some rubbing alcohol on a stack of gauze pads. "This isn’t going to feel all that great. Just take a couple swigs, and it’ll help. Trust me on this."

  I opened the bottle, brought it to my lips and took a long swallow. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d been expecting, and I hardly grimaced. It was actually pretty good. The burn soothed me as it crept down my throat. I was getting used to that heat deep inside of me so it didn’t feel at all out of place.

  "It’s not my favorite," Ryker said. "I wanted just regular Jack, but Stella insisted on the honey kind."

  "Good call," I said. "This stuff is good."

  She shrugged. "Not all of us are big and tough manly men."

  I snorted as I took another swig. "Ow." My nose was burning.

  "Alright, alright. Let me get this over with." He kissed the tip of my nose and took the bottle from my hand, taking a swig for himself. "I don’t need to be carrying you home again. People will start to wonder about that." He kissed me gently on the lips, and I could taste the honey whiskey. It was Heavenly and a bit naughty at the same time.

  I snuck a glance at Stella when we pulled apart, and she was purposely looking over at a spot on the wall. Sighing, I said, "Okay let’s do this."

  Ryker had one arm holding mine steady, and used the alcohol soaked gauze pads to dab at the wound. Instantly my arm started to sting, but as soon as the initial pain started subsiding, I embraced it. Such a little thing, but I figured I needed to learn to embrace pain since it looked like I’d be seeing a lot of it in the foreseeable future.

  Once Ryker was satisfied that it was as clean as it would get, he grabbed the needle. "Ready?" he asked.

  All I could manage was one curt nod as I bit down on my bottom lip. He pressed the needle to my skin, and again, I exhaled and embraced the pain of it. Each time the needle went in or came out, I winced and at one point hit the table with my fist. Overall though, I was able to mentally take it in and not let it bother me. Ryker only needed to put in about five stitches, and when he was done he wiped it one more time with an alcohol soaked gauze pad.

  "There," he said. "Now you can get a good start to your war wound collection."

  Before I could punch him in the shoulder, the front door opened and Zak walked in. Stella jumped up and ran to him, squealing.

  Ryker laughed and said
in a voice that only I could hear, "I’m glad she found someone."

  They walked into the living room and Zak sat down in the chair that Stella had previously been occupying. She draped herself casually across him, but in spite of the beautiful woman on top of him, he looked troubled and was staring at me.

  "What’s up Zak?" Ryker asked, picking up on his mood.

  "Her," he said. "People are talking, man. Whatever the Hell she did this morning has people all wound up, and they’re saying down in the Pits that the Project is looking for her."

  Ryker tensed. "Who was?"

  Zak gestured with his hand in the air. "Everyone, man. They’re saying the Project is offering up big money for any information on her whereabouts." He looked away. "And even bigger money if anyone delivers her to them."

  I sucked in a breath, and Ryker rubbed a hand over his face.

  "What the Hell is she anyway?" Zak asked, his eyes raking up and down my body.

  Wrapping my arms around my frame, I winced when I bumped my new stitches.

  Ryker looked at him, anger flashing in his eyes. "She’s my girlfriend," he said with finality his tone that told Zak to drop it. "How many people are in the Centriole right now?"

  Zak shrugged. "Not many. It would be a good time to get her home if that’s what you’re asking."

  Ryker stood up and looked down at me. "It is. Let’s get home, Edyn."

  I took his hand as I staggered to my feet. Apparently those few swigs of whiskey were making my head fuzzy already.

  Ryker put his arm around my waist to steady me. "Thanks for dinner, Stel," he said. "Zak." He nodded in his direction.

  I noticed that Zak had never even tried to thank Ryker for taking his place this morning and saving his ass. As Ryker was closing the door to Stella’s behind us, I glanced back and saw her and Zak staring at me, which sent a chill through me.

  I caught sight of Ryker’s red leather bound sketch book on the chaise lounge though, and said, "Wait. One sec." Hurrying back in, I grabbed it and could feel their eyes on my back the whole way back out the door.

  When Ryker saw what I had clutched to my chest, he smiled and put his arm around my shoulders.