Monster In the Mirror, page 9
He grunted something that might have been a word, but maybe not. He opened her car door, waited for her to get in, then went around to his side and got behind the wheel.
He was quiet all the way back, and for most of the ride, she thought she’d broken something between them. It made her sad. She’d begun to think of Henry as a friend. And certainly a confidant. Regret filled her. She never should have told him who she really was. She didn’t think he’d use it against her, but he shut down so fast she wasn’t sure what would happen next.
He parked on the street, and they walked toward their apartments together. He was still quiet, head down, seemingly lost in thought.
But instead of going to the steps, he went to the door that led into his lab and office space. She hesitated by the stairs.
He put his hand to the keypad, then glanced over his shoulder. “Aren’t you coming? I thought you wanted to see the space.”
She nodded. “I wasn’t sure you still wanted me to help you.”
He exhaled. Then nodded, a kind, sad look in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I get too much in my own head sometimes. I’m not used to having another person’s company. I would very much like your help. If you’re still interested.”
She smiled. “I am.” She took a few steps toward him. “Let’s see this lab of yours.”
He pushed the door open and went in, flipping on the lights. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She stepped inside and followed him down a short hall.
“This is my lab.” He opened another door and led her in, turning on those lights as well.
She blinked, taking in the room before her. Counter space topped with shelves lined the far wall, and a large workspace formed an island down the center of the room. On the other wall, cabinets and shelves stretched from floor to ceiling. In the corner was a large stainless-steel sink and sterilizing equipment.
Machines and technical equipment of all kinds were everywhere. On part of the island, three computers were set up, a worn desk chair in front of them. A coffee cup, a pair of safety goggles, and a notebook lay nearby. His main work area, she realized.
But it was hard to distinguish with the stacks of books and papers that towered in each available space. Beakers leaned out of other beakers. Trash cans were packed full. Sticky notes decorated a lot of the vertical spaces. In fact, there were no places that weren’t covered in something, not even in front of the machines. Some of them hummed, at work on something. Another let out a soft, steady beep every few minutes.
This was going to be a much bigger job than she’d anticipated.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” he asked.
She wouldn’t lie. That was no way to move a relationship forward. “I’ve seen worse. Once.”
He laughed softly. “And how did that job turn out?”
She took a breath. “I don’t know. I turned it down.”
His smile vanished. “Oh.”
“I’m not turning this one down, though.” She took another look around. “It just might take me a little longer to get it into shape. That’s all.”
“So you’ll do it?”
She nodded. “I will.” There was no other option. Not when the man she was helping might be the one who could save her from herself.
The tension in Henry’s shoulders left. “Thank you. I’ll pay you whatever you want.”
“It’s not going to be cheap. This is hours and hours of work. You need to know that up front.”
“For organization, I’m happy to pay it. Will it bother you if I’m in here working while you’re doing your thing?”
“No. You might have to move a couple times, but actually it would be good to have you here to answer any questions I might have. Especially when it comes to what can be thrown out and what can’t.”
He put his hands on his hips and looked around. “I’d say most of it can’t. Even failed experiments and tests are worth keeping. Everything can be useful.”
“Okay, then in that case, we’re going to need a way to store all of that. A way that makes it all easy to reference while not being an obstacle to the new work.” She turned, looking back the way they’d come. “You have an office, right?”
He nodded. “It’s the storefront, basically. There’s a small waiting room and reception area, two exam rooms, an office, and a supply pantry.”
“You said you don’t see patients anymore, right?”
“Right.” Someday, he would again, though. “Which is not to say I don’t want to help people, but I’m really trying to focus on removing Edgar from my life these days.” He hesitated, then told her the rest of it. “Truth is, I never had that many patients to begin with. I don’t think most people felt comfortable coming to a doctor like me.”
“If you could cure yourself, that would all change.”
“That it would.” He hoped.
“Can I see the office?”
“Sure.”
He took her through to his official office at the back of the converted storefront. He didn’t come in here as much anymore, preferring to spend his time in the lab, although he should probably use the space, since he was paying for it. Dust motes floated through the air as he turned the lights on. A thin layer of dust lay across everything like a blanket. “Sorry about the state of things. I don’t use this space as much as I used to.”
“If most of the paper in your lab were scanned into the computer and filed into dated, labeled folders there, would you be all right keeping the hard copies in a couple of filing cabinets in here?”
“I would. But scanning all of that is a lot of work. And making sure it’s labeled properly and—”
“I know,” she said softly. “But this is what I do. This is how I organize people.”
“You really want to take all of this on?” He understood he’d be paying her, but it all seemed so tedious and boring and not like anything he’d want to spend his time doing. Obviously.
She smiled, turning toward him. “I really do. And not just because you’re going to help me figure out if I’m really the monster I think I am.”
He stared into her blue eyes, lost for a moment. “You’re not a monster.”
She stared right back. “You don’t know that. Although you should. More than anyone.”
There were only a few inches between them. He could smell her sweet perfume, see the pulse beat in her throat, feel the warmth of her near him. How long had it been since he’d been this close to a woman? A woman who knew who he was and still wasn’t afraid of him? “You’re too beautiful to be a monster.”
Her lips parted. “Maybe … maybe that’s just how I lure you in.”
His hand came up to cup her cheek. “Then I’d say it’s working.”
Sometimes the dark burden of Edgar pressed against Henry in a way that made him feel like a man underwater, struggling to breathe. He’d come to understand over the years that this was Edgar’s way of trying to stop Henry from doing something Edgar didn’t want him to do.
Henry felt that tension now. But he wasn’t about to repress the impulse that had kicked up inside of him. He learned forward and kissed Izzy, gently pressing his mouth to hers, testing to see if she’d allow it.
She did. She leaned into him, her hands finding his chest and her palms flattening against him.
She tasted of pear crumble and cinnamon, and the shear unexpectedness of the contact made him smile, which broke the kiss.
“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head but still smiling. “I, uh, feel … like a teenager right now.”
She grinned and bit her lip. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?”
“Not at all.” He couldn’t stop smiling. “It’s been a long time since I kissed someone.”
“Me, too. I guess that’s what comes of keeping yourself away from people.”
He nodded. He knew how true that was. Too well, really. “I suppose so. Sad, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She smoothed the front of his shirt, her warm fingers trailing down his chest. “But maybe it’s not so sad anymore.”
He didn’t want to read more into her words than might actually be there, but her attention was like a glass of ice water to a man who’d been lost in the desert. “Do you mean because … that is, are you saying …”
“I like you, Henry. And I think you like me. More than that, we understand each other in a way no one else probably can. We know we have limitations. Boundaries that have to be respected. Why shouldn’t we see where things go?” She took her hand away, shrugging as she did. Her expression turned inward, her gaze no longer on him. “It might be pathetic to admit this, but just because I choose to be alone doesn’t mean I like it.”
He shook his head. “It’s not pathetic. It’s honest. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I do like you. And I would love to see where things go.”
She looked at him again. “Okay,” she said softly, the bloom of happiness making the word light.
He felt that lightness inside of him. A very rare thing for a man with a burden as heavy as his. “Whatever you want to do with this office is fine with me. Filing cabinets, whatever. Just tell me what to order and I’ll get them.”
She nodded. “That will help a lot. I need to do a better assessment of just how much paper needs to be filed, but I’m thinking a lateral file might be the way to go. One with three or four drawers. I think they’re so much easier to access than the vertical files. Plus, they don’t stick out from the wall as far.”
“Sounds good to me. Do you want to find one online? Or should we see if there’s a shop in town that might have one?”
Her brows bent. “Is there a place in Shadowvale that sells office furniture?”
“There’s a secondhand furniture shop connected to Brightman’s Upholstery. It’s just past the high school in the small industrial park area. There’s a medical supply place there, which is how I know about it. Also a blacksmith and a shop that makes custom cat condos.”
Izzy laughed. “Custom cat condos? That’s kind of random, isn’t it? Not that the blacksmith isn’t, but with those big wrought-iron gates at the entrance, a blacksmith makes sense. Cat condos, though?”
“Aren’t cats the most popular thing on the internet?”
“Probably,” she agreed. “I always thought about getting a cat. I thought it might be nice company. But since Ian’s arrest, my life has been so uncertain.”
“Maybe you could now.”
She nodded, but there was a little sadness in her expression. “Maybe. We should probably go back to your lab. There’s a lot I need to do. But I would like to go out to that secondhand furniture place sometime. I could use a few things for the apartment. Not that I’m ready to buy, but it would be good to see what they have.”
“Whenever you’re ready, we’ll go. But yes, let’s get back to the lab.” He looked at his watch, always mindful of the time despite knowing full well the sun hadn’t even set yet.
“Something else you need to do?”
Reluctantly, he nodded. “Yes. But not for a while.” He smiled, maybe a little too brightly. “Let’s get back to the lab. And while you do your thing, I’ll set up the tests for you at the hospital. If you’re ready to do them.”
“Yes. I’d do them right now, if I could.”
“Then let’s go.”
They worked in the lab for hours, Izzy doing whatever it was she needed to do, which seemed like moving the current stacks of books and papers into new stacks of books and papers. He logged into the hospital’s appointment scheduling system and booked her in for the next morning for an MRI.
Once that appointment was made, he returned to his work on the dopamine inhibitors and attempted to adjust the dosage that he planned to use on himself this evening. He took new blood samples and ran all of his vitals.
His blood pressure was perfect, his pulse low and even, his blood work a textbook example of what blood work should look like. None of that was normal for him, however. There was always something slightly amiss because of Edgar’s presence.
Was it possible tonight might be one of the nights that Edgar didn’t show? Could he skip an evening in the basement? Forgo another round of testing?
He glanced up from the data in front of him. Izzy was humming softly to herself, a happy little sound if ever he’d heard one.
No, he couldn’t skip anything. Not when he had someone so valuable to protect.
Izzy had taken a much-needed shower and was now happily puttering away in the kitchen on dinner. Henry would be up shortly to share it with her. The very thought lightened her steps. She’d never imagined her escape to Shadowvale would result in finding a man like him.
She didn’t mean a man with a monster of his own, but a man who understood her. A man who could actually help her.
As for his monster … Izzy wasn’t afraid. She knew Henry took precautions to keep Edgar contained. But there was more to it than that. Probably silly on her part, but she didn’t believe Edgar would hurt her.
She and Henry were cut from the same cloth. His issues were much more serious than hers, at least at the moment, but they definitely understood each other. And she believed Edgar would understand that, too.
Despite that belief, she wasn’t about to attempt any kind of interaction with Edgar. She was happy for Henry to lock himself away in the basement every night if that’s what he needed to do.
She would have preferred he not have to do that, but she completely understood taking drastic measures to remain safe. And so those in the vicinity stayed safe, too.
Dinner was a whole roasted chicken with carrots and onions, mashed potatoes with homemade gravy, and biscuits. It was probably the most impressive dinner she knew how to make, and that was only because she’d learned it working at a diner in high school. Roast chicken had been the Sunday special.
The chicken would be ready in about twenty minutes. As soon as it came out of the oven, the biscuits, which were already made, cut out, and on a baking tray, would go in. Then she’d mash the potatoes and make the gravy from pan drippings.
With time to kill, she put on some soft music, then went back to the bathroom and checked to make sure she still looked presentable. Sometimes when she made biscuits, flour got everywhere. But she looked fine.
She stared at herself in the mirror. At her head, actually. Wondering what was in there. Wondering what Henry’s tests might find.
Part of her knew it wouldn’t be good news. That she was as damaged as her brother, just somehow better at controlling it than Ian was.
She didn’t know why that was. Their childhood had been rough. They’d been raised more by their grandmother than their mother, who’d been too young and too interested in living a child-free life to give them the kind of attention they craved. Their father hadn’t been in the picture at all.
Their grandmother had tried. But she’d never been able to tame Ian’s wild, rebellious side.
Izzy had always believed he’d set fire to their home by accident. Until he’d been arrested and the truth had come out.
Now she often wondered if he’d meant to kill them all. Her included.
Sometimes that fateful night played out in her dreams. They always turned to nightmares filled with bright, angry flames and the most unbearable heat. The small section of warped scars on her back were a constant reminder that she’d never escape those memories.
A knock on the door made her jump.
She came out of the bathroom, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. It was just Henry. She smiled at him as she opened the door. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He held up a pastry box, much like the one Emeranth had brought over. “I got dessert. I hope that was okay.”
“That’s great. What did you get?” She shut the door behind him as he came in.
“I tried to combine your love of fruit with my love of chocolate. Black Forest Cake. It’s really good. All homemade. None of that goopy canned cherry filling.”
“Is that from Black Horse Bakery?”
“It is. Have you been there?”
“No, but when Emeranth came to see me, she brought me some pastries from there and they were very good.”
“You should definitely visit sometime. They have good coffee, too. And everything, except for the coffee, is free.” He put the box on the counter.
“Free? How do they stay in business?”
He shrugged. “I think that’s exactly why they stay in business. The woman who owns the bakery, Nasha Black, runs it that way because she believes it balances out what her father does.”
Izzy braced herself. “And that is?”
“He’s one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Namely Famine.”
Izzy stared at him. “For real.”
Henry nodded. “Yep. There are a few other Horsemen that live in town, too, but they live farther out. By the way, it smells great in here. What are you making?”
Izzy smiled. “Roast chicken. I hope you like that.”
“My mouth is already watering.”
The oven timer went off. Izzy headed for the kitchen. “That’s my cue. I have a few things to do before dinner is ready. Make yourself at home.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Nope.” She slipped oven mitts on.
Just then, Henry’s phone rang. He looked at the screen, a slight frown coming over his face. “I’ll take this outside.” He stepped out to the landing, leaving Izzy to finish dinner.
Izzy got the chicken out and the biscuits in, then glanced toward the door. She couldn’t help but be curious about who’d called him and why he’d wanted to take it outside, but that was his business. Her own paranoia pricked at her, making her wonder if someone else in town had found out who she was and had called him to confirm, but that was just crazy.
She drained the potatoes, added the melted butter and warmed cream she’d heated up in the microwave earlier, and went to work mashing them into just the right consistency. It was a good use of the energy that had built up inside her.
Henry came back in, a smile on his face. “What are you doing tomorrow evening?”
