and I don’t know if we can find a cab at this time in the morning, but we could run it—” she glanced to where he sat on the edge of the bed lacing his Doc Martens “—if you think you can in those boots. Unfortunately none of my shoes would fit you.”
“We?”
A few quick brushstrokes and she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. She looked at him in the dresser mirror. “I’m coming with you.”
“That’s not necessary.” He stood and tucked in his shirt, zipped his pants.
“Yes, it is.” She pulled on a running singlet.
“What if I don’t want you to come?”
“Are you telling me you don’t want me there?”
The trouble was, it frightened him just how much he did want her there. Scary how easy it was to want to lean on her when he’d stood alone so long on his own. And what did it matter whether he actually wanted her there or not? He knew Tawny. She’d be there regardless.
“Oh, hell. Come if you want to,” he said.
“You’re so gracious, Simon.” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “But I forgive you. I know you’re worried about your mom.”
She buzzed around the room, pulling a small canister out of her seemingly bottomless bedside table and clipping it to her waistband. “Mace. A girl should never leave home without it.” She shoved her feet into trainers and laced them up in quick order.
She stopped and looked at him. “You ready?”
“Yeah. You’re sure you know where we’re going?” He wanted to be there now.
“Positive. I’ve got a great sense of direction.”
“That’s good. I have no sense of direction.” Simon lit a small votive and blew out the triple-wicked big boy. Votive in hand, he led the way to the front door. Tawny blew out the two candles she’d previously left burning in the den. Her apartment felt like an oven. They hadn’t even started their run and sweat beaded his skin.
She joined him at the door, clipping on her cell phone. “Just blow it out and leave it here. It’ll slow us down too much in the stairwell.”
He grabbed her and pressed a quick kiss to her surprised mouth. She was scared to death of the dark, but she didn’t want to slow him down in getting to his mother.
“You’re one hell of a woman, Tawny Edwards. Let’s keep it lit for the first set of stairs, so we can count how many are from landing to landing. Then if it goes out, we can count our way down in the dark.”
“Sounds like a plan.” They stepped out into the hallway and she dead-bolted the door behind them. “The stairwell’s this way.”
She grabbed his free hand and led him down the dark hall. Simon opened the heavy door beneath the dark Exit sign. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving them in the dank, cool and eerie quiet of the stairwell.
Simon gripped Tawny’s hand even tighter. God, she must hate this. And it was about to get worse.
“Ready?” His voice bounced back at them.
“Let’s do it.”
He counted aloud as they went down one floor. Only six floors left to go. The candle had flickered precariously several times on the way down the last set of stairs and they hadn’t even been moving that fast. It would take them forever at this rate.
Tawny stopped him on the sixth-floor landing. “Just blow it out, Simon.”
“Are you sure?”
She took a deep breath. “You’ll hold on to my hand?”
“I promise I won’t let go of you, no matter what happens.”
“Then let’s move out.” She leaned around him and blew out the votive, pitching them into absolute blackness. According to fire code, emergency exit lights should’ve shown up over the doorways. Obviously Tawny’s building had compliance issues.
They made their way tentatively at first and then fell into a rhythm. Simon counted aloud, his voice echoing, but he thought it was some measure of comfort to Tawny to hear his voice and hold his hand in the inky black. Soon enough they’d reached the first floor. It hadn’t taken long at all, but it had probably felt like a lifetime to Tawny, judging by her clammy hand.
Muggy heat assaulted them the moment they stepped out of the building. A few quiet voices drifted down from rooftops and fire escapes, and somewhere down the block a woman laughed. In the far distance a horn honked. The earlier party atmosphere had definitely dissipated.
“It’s like a fairy tale where a spell’s been cast, isn’t it?”