The Fall of Sky: Part One (The Fall of Sky #1) Page 2

  “Uh, yeah, sure. What kind of um…bonus?”

  I hope she isn’t thinking about… My eyes shifted to the attendant, his lovesick, gooey eyed face oblivious to me now.

  Liv giggled, blowing a bubble that grew in proportion as she slowly exhaled into it, at the same time twirling her wavy hair in her slender, black nail polished fingers. The gum snapped, and she tongued it back into her little mouth, staring at the clerk the entire time. I was going to be sick.

  “Liv.” I motioned her out of the office as he clumsily placed the key in front of her. He was smiling widely, turning a brilliant shade of red as he stuttered to speak.

  “Oh, you know…” Liv slapped a hundred dollar bill in front of him, bringing it up to wave it in his face as she continued, “the kind that makes you forget you ever even saw or heard about us.” She smiled, the brilliance of it diminishing the bruised colored circles under her eyes. Her fatigue was apparent to me, but definitely not to the drooling young man who was all enthralled with her. “What do you say?” She gave him another lash-batting wink.

  “Uh−yeah, okay.” He took the bill from her and smiled, still entranced with Liv’s beauty. I had to admit, she had a way with the opposite sex. She held them entranced with some spell she casted, turning them into spineless, sputtering idiots at any attention from her. She knew how to work it, and she used it well to get whatever she wanted. Only I seemed to notice the emptiness it caused her. Like the Band-Aids wrapped around her slender fingers, hiding the scabs from the splinters she had picked out of her hands, she hid the resonating hollow that was her heart. It wasn’t her fault. In fact, I blamed myself every day for it. I owed it to her to never let anyone hurt her ever again.

  We slipped out of the office without any further probing from the creep and jumped back into the station wagon, easing it around the back of the motel building to an inconspicuous spot behind a row of pitifully starved trees. There was even an emptied, cracked plaster pool here, sitting unused and filthy. Despite that, I didn’t care anymore. If the place had a mat on the floor, I was ready to take it and crash.

  I pulled my bag from the back seat before turning to stare at the run down state of this motel. It was painted a baby blue that required frequent touch ups, which didn’t seem to have been kept up. I let a breath out, scratched my head, and proceeded to the room, which luckily wasn’t too far from where we had parked. Liv followed behind, her own bag and the money pack in tow. Sliding the key card into the lock, it flashed green, and I shoved the heavy door open.

  To my surprise, the interior was clean and simple. Smooth sheets lay on the beds, and an ample amount of pillows were strewn across the heads of the beds. I shut the door behind us, making sure to latch the lock, and breathed a sigh of relief as I leaned against the wood. Only then could I relax the tension that endlessly sat in my shoulders. Liv had already dived onto the bed nearest the window, pulling three of the pillows under her head and chest, hugging them fiercely.

  “Heaven!”

  I grinned—I had to agree with her for once. I stepped over to the second bed and dropped my bag to my feet. Pulling off my sneakers, I slid back onto the cool crisp sheets, which smelled like bleach and detergent with a faint floral scent mixed in. How about that—a clean motel that looked like crap outside? Go figure.

  I was out before I could turn off any of the lights, but not before I’d heard Liv’s soft, even breaths from her side of the room.

  Chapter Three

  Liv

  THE TANGLES OF my hair caught in my fingers as I ran them through the wet tresses. I dug through my bag for a brush, shoving all the little trinkets aside as I sifted through to find it. Finally grabbing the handle, I tugged the bristles through the mess. My long black hair was layered and hung with soft curls framing my face. If I didn’t get it untangled before it dried, it would turn into a fuzz ball afro in just minutes.

  I managed to get all the knots out without cursing enough to wake Audrey. She hadn’t even changed out of her clothes either before crashing. I smiled, glad I had my sister with me on this crazy road of life. I wasn’t sure if I’d be okay without her. She grounded me in a way I was sure no one else could. I pulled my hair back into a loose bun and slipped my shoes on. I wanted to sneak out to grab my guitar from the wagon; my fingers itched to play the strings. Strumming the music was like a soothing medication to my soul. I ached for it, and it had been way too long since I had gotten to really just sit and tinker with it.

  I pulled the guitar out of the trunk and quietly slipped back into the hotel room. I knew if I played softly, Audrey would continue to sleep for a bit. She fought sleep like a toddler, but man, once she was out, she was like death to the world. Sitting on my tossed up bed, I softly tuned the strings first, a habit I had done since learning how to play at the age of ten. Finishing with that, I softly strummed a set of chords, relishing the soft twang of the strings as the pick clicked over the metal coils. The sound resonated across the wood hollow of the guitar and filled the room with a soft melancholy.

  Stretching my callused fingers to form the chords, I started to play one of my favorite Extreme songs, More Than Words. I loved its soft tempo and thumped out the percussion softly on the face of my guitar. Letting the melody fill me, it helped me to relax as the morning wore on. I fused it into the soft lullaby of an Anna Nalick song called Wreck of the Day, tapping my foot softly to the rhythm and losing myself in its soft reverence. I loved it and knew that if it was all up to me, playing music would be all I would do.

  A slow tumble of a feeling crept up my side as I realized I was being watched. The window drapes were opened, letting in the soft sunlight of the morning, but just outside on the edge of the walkway, a man stood gazing in the direction of the window. He didn’t seem to be staring at me, though he was definitely listening to the music. I stopped, wondering if he could see me through the grimy glass pane. As I jumped up to pull the drapes shut, he jerked his head up toward me.

  I gasped. His eyes were the clearest blue I had ever seen, like colorless ice. He had a backpack strapped to his back and looked like he was leaving, freshly shaven and his dark brown hair slightly damp from a shower. He didn’t leave as I approached and grabbed the drapes. In fact, he didn’t so much as look right at me. His eyes were unfocused, and he didn’t seem one bit offended by my glare. I noticed the cane he had in his grip as he reached for a pair of sunglasses dangling from his shirt pocket, donning them over his unusual eyes. With that, he continued forward, down the walk.

  I was left baffled. Was he blind? He must have been. Why else would he have a cane like that? I wondered briefly what he was doing here, out in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t look like any blind man I had ever imagined. For some reason, I only imagined an old man with white hair and a hunched over gait when I thought of someone who was blind, not a breathtaking man who was probably no more than thirty.

  I sighed as I watched him disappear around the corner toward the office. With that, I pulled the window drapes closed and turned to see Audrey, stirring from the spot she had not moved from all night long.

  “What time is it?”

  “I think it’s around eight.”

  She yawned, stretching and popping her bones as she flexed and reached up toward the sky. I chuckled at this little ritual she always did before getting out of bed. Rubbing her puffy eyes, she then slid her hands over her hair and shoved back the convoluted mess of hair that flitted into her face. “I’m gonna jump in the shower. Then, I want to head out. We can’t stay too long,” she muttered.

  I nodded my response, though I doubted she saw it. She was already busy pulling out clothes and toiletries from her bag. Shuffling to the bathroom, she clicked the door shut. I could hear her dropping her bottles of stuff and cursing as one smashed her toes. Chuckling, I put my guitar back in its case, dropping the pick back in the little storage compartment the case had for little things. Clicking the latches shut, I ran my hand along the smooth exterior. The guitar was my one prized possession−having saved from my summer job to get it. Now, I could buy several of them with the money I had lifted from Ruben, though I wasn’t sure it would have meant as much to me then.

  Ruben.

  I shuddered at the thought of him. He was a disgusting con man I’d met by chance of walking into his bar one day. He made a living off selling illicit drugs out of the bar he owned in Phoenix. He was a husky, burly, and greasy man who loved to ogle women. I only tolerated his company because he had a soft spot for me, giving me an endless slew of gifts, free drinks, and a job at the bar, in addition to side work cleaning his apartment. He was a little bit of a mogul and was a bit loaded with cash. Still, I would never let him touch me like he wanted to with a ten foot pole. Yesterday, when we executed our plan to relieve him of chump change and get out of the city, I had let him lure me to his apartment above the bar under the guise that I was finally giving it up to him. Boy, did he have it wrong; he had used his restroom and had come out only to find that I had swiped his secret stash of drug money. I regretted nothing. He was sloppy and had paid for it. I was glad he didn’t have a huge gang to chase us down; otherwise, I would have never deceived him.

  Now, the road was ours. Heading to the coastline of San Diego, where the weather was fair and the ocean called us back to it, I couldn’t wait. I stuffed the last of my items back into my bag and waited for Audrey to finish up in the bathroom. Despite what she thought, I was the early bird, not her. She liked to be the responsible one, but I knew she had her faults just as I had mine. I liked it that way though. It made me respect her even more.

  As she exited the bathroom with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, she was swiftly drying off her bottles of shampoo and conditioner. She was a stickler for soft hair, unlike my unruly tresses
. I admired her smooth, light brown hair, so unlike my crazy waves. She was so together, while I pretty much looked like a whirlwind came through here every day, but it was okay. It didn’t bother me, and she didn’t care. As long as we were cool with each other’s quirks, we rarely had any issues getting along.

  “Ready?”

  “Yep.” I smiled and stood up, pulling the door open. The cool morning air hit me, waking up my senses as I breathed in the ozone flavored breeze. I hopped on over to our car and popped the trunk open, stowing away my guitar and overnight bag and letting her toss hers in before slamming it shut. Jumping into the passenger seat, since it was Audrey’s turn to drive, I waited as she calmly joined me in the cab of the wagon. Cranking the engine, she tapped on the gauges. “We’ll have to get gas at the next station. Remind me.”

  “Okie dokie.” I slouched in my chair, bringing a foot up onto the dashboard to tie my sneaker. She shoved it into reverse and eased the vehicle back, swinging it around to drive around the building to the office, where we had to drop off our key cards. Pulling up to the drive, she handed me her key card, and I hopped out to head into the office to turn them in.

  Entering the small lobby, I stopped in my shoes and stared at the blind man I had seen outside our window. He sat on one of the waiting room chairs, leaning on his cane with his duffle pack between his jean-clad legs. He was already facing my direction, and I could feel his eyes scanning my way as I walked to the counter. I glanced around, not finding the blond haired attendant. I dinged the lone bell, hoping the twang would bring him out of hiding.

  “He stepped out for a few. Said he’d be back soon,” the stranger’s calm voice echoed behind me. I turned and studied his face, not afraid that he could see me staring.

  “Thanks.”

  He gave a slight nod, not moving from his spot. “You’re welcome, Miss.” His face was still. As a matter of fact, he was so still, no wonder I had missed him on the way in. It made me think on why he was sitting there waiting.

  “Are you getting a room?” I questioned. I was pretty sure that he had a room if he was wandering around the motel earlier. Otherwise, it was somewhat freaky.

  “No, I’m waiting for my ride.” He smiled then, showing a set of pearly white teeth and deep smile lines that made him look charming. “But they aren’t answering their phone, and I’m afraid they’ve quite forgotten about me.” I couldn’t help but stare; he was mystifying. I hoped he couldn’t tell that I was looking at him for longer than what was appropriate. It would be mortifying, but I couldn’t help it. I waved at him to see if he would react. Satisfied that he didn’t, I turned back toward the counter and contemplated dropping the room cards on the counter and leaving.

  “Did he say when he was coming back?”

  “No, sorry, I didn’t ask.” I turned back to the blind man, letting my eyes drag down his face, across his body, and down his jeans. He wore them slightly loose but snug enough to define the muscles of his legs. His sneakers were clean and a dark grey. Even his hair was neatly trimmed, though not too short, hanging over his face a bit but not in an unruly way. It was darn sexy, if you asked me.

  “I can feel you staring.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” My face flushed scarlet, and I ripped my eyes away from him to land on the old faded wallpaper lining the walls behind the desk. It used to have little yellow bouquets of flowers on it. Now they were worn down so much, only an occasional bouquet would be visible. It must have been pretty at one point, but now it made the place look dated. “You think you can tell him I dropped the room keys on the counter here?”

  He gave me a curt nod, grinning still. “I sure can.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime, Miss.”

  I spun and headed toward the exit, but as my fingers grasped the handle to the door, I turned back to Blind Man once more. He remained glued to his spot, but reached up to his watch and pressed one side of it. “Eight fifty-two A.M.” The robotic voice sounded off, not too loud but loud enough for me to hear in this quiet room. He frowned, sighing as he shifted in his seat.

  I knew I was going to regret this. I just knew it.

  “Hey, um…Do you need a lift somewhere? We got room. Where are you headed?” Shoot, can’t take it back now. I gulped, glancing out the glass door to see my sister muttering words with her mouth as she was most definitely cursing the radio’s poor reception. I turned back to the handsome stranger and waited for him to respond.

  “You sure about that?” He cocked his head to the side as though he was thinking hard on my words.

  I fidgeted in my spot and sighed. “Yes, of course. So what do you think?”

  A moment slid past until a warm smile grew across his face. “Thank you. I think it sounds wonderful. I’m headed to San Diego.” He stood up, switching the cane to his right hand as he grabbed the bag with the other. “Much obliged.”

  “Great! That’s where we’re going.” I opened the door and held it for him. He smiled wider and gave me a quick nod as he walked outside. “I’m Liv Westing, by the way. That’s my sister, Audrey.” I bit at my lip, hoping Audrey wasn’t going to lose her bloody mind when she heard my offer to the stranger.

  “Nice to meet you, Liv. I’m Saul Halifax.”

  Chapter Four

  Audrey

  I DON’T KNOW what goes through Liv’s head sometimes. Giving a complete stranger a ride out in the middle of Timbuktu was not my idea of a wise decision. If Saul hadn’t been blind, I would’ve put my foot down, but he was nice so far−he’d nodded his greeting to me with the warmest of smiles, disarming my torrent of protesting in one instant. Regardless, I kept one eye on him in the rear view mirror as I sped along the highway, still anxious to get farther and farther from Ruben.

  “So what’s your story?” I asked, glancing at Liv and back to his reflection. He had sunglasses over those translucent blue orbs that seemed to be almost colorless. He smiled to me as though he could see my stare in the mirror. I shifted my eyes back to the road, my face flushing slightly. He was not bad looking, His locks rippled in the breeze, looking ever so soft and aching to be curled around my fingers. I’d at least give him that.

  “Well, I work as a voice actor. It pays well, and it’s perfect for someone like me.” He gave a slight grin back through the rear view mirror. I gulped, feeling guilty that I had asked him about his profession. Obviously, it wouldn’t be a traditional job, or would it? He could’ve said he was disabled for all I knew. I found it interesting that he was considered an actor. How cool was that?

  “Really? Do you do any of the movie trailer announcements?” Liv spun around and waited greedily for his answer, her long black hair whipping around her head like a halo. I rolled my eyes, knowing our guest couldn’t see me do so. Still, what if he was pretending to be blind? Maybe he was rolling his eyes behind those dark, dark sunglasses at us too.

  He chuckled at Liv’s enthusiasm, but shook his head. “No, I’m not that good yet, but that would be a dream come true to get that kind of gig.” He turned his face toward the wind, which was rolling in from the open windows. The warm air was cooling down as the ocean air approached, sending shivers down my arms, but he looked like he very much enjoyed it.

  “What were you doing in that motel in the middle of nowhere?” Liv picked at the peeling leather of the seat. Its worn, cracking appearance was fading with time and the abuse of the elements.

  “My mother died. I went to her funeral in Flagstaff.” Liv gasped, and I swatted her for asking.

  “No, it’s okay. We weren’t close. Just paying my respects.” He gave a reassuring smile again, white teeth flashing, enveloped by luscious pink lips.

  “I’m sorry.” Liv slid back in her seat, facing forward once more. I gritted my teeth. My face was flushing with embarrassment, enough for both of us.