CHAPTER 17

 

JILL

 

 

“Why haven’t you gone?”

Jill sat cross-legged on the earthen floor of the graffiti cave.

Daniel stood with his shoulder hitched against the wall.

“And go to what?” he asked with a stony expression. “I was thirteen-years-old when I came down here. I barely remember the surface, and what memories I do have–” he hesitated and looked away, “–they weren’t good ones.”

Jill felt bad for him. There was a toughness to Daniel that she found attractive, but there had to be a reason for that hardness. Nothing about her felt hard. She felt weak. Even this morning when Stella explained what they found in the cave, Jill’s first reaction was fear.

I don’t want to drown in that can.

I’m safe where I am right now.

Why can’t I wait until a more sound option comes along?

These were the pitiful protests she offered as Stella sat there, sacrificing her spot in the submersible to keep the Wexler family together and offer them a chance at escape.

Well, she didn’t want it. She was scared.

“So you don’t want to try?” she asked. “You don’t even want to try to make it back?”

Daniel watched her with dark eyes. “No. But you should go. You haven’t been tainted by this place yet. You can have a normal life.”

Jill glanced around at the murals, and then her gaze landed on him.

“I’ve been tainted,” she muttered.

She curled her toes up, trying to squeeze herself into a ball. It was hard to admit insecurity to a guy who was so cool, who was so mysterious and handsome, who was really much older than her even if he didn’t look it. But the words slipped, unbidden.

“I’m afraid,” she confessed.

She waited for his laughter. His mocking.

When there was no retort she finally glanced up. He was watching her with an odd expression. It was a rugged blend of conflict and concern and it caused her to squeeze herself tighter.

“Fear in general, I understand,” he said. “But you don’t have to be afraid down here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Heat rose to her cheeks. A pleasant buzzing sounded inside her ears.

“Maybe if I stay down here long enough I’ll have your courage,” she tried to joke.

“Courage,” he spat. “That’s laughable. I’m not one you would pin a courageous label on.”

“Why? Look at you. You’re the definition of courageous. You’re not afraid of this place–or these creatures.” She flung her hand at the carved depiction of a hunched figure with wide eyes.

“There’s a hell of a lot more up there to be afraid of,” he countered. “Don’t look at me like I’m some sort of a hero.”

He turned away from her. “Do you really want to know what happened the day I ended up here?”

A chill stole over her arms. Something about the desperation in his voice. It warned her to say, no, no I don’t want to hear it.

Instead her voice cracked as she murmured, “Yes, please tell me.” Because suddenly she had to know. She had to know what crafted Daniel into such a puzzling contradiction of hard and soft.

Daniel wouldn’t look at her. He faced the wall of murals, his finger reaching out and tracing the skull and crossbones.

“I didn’t fall,” he asserted flatly. “I jumped.”

The shock she anticipated never registered. Somehow she had guessed this already. For once she wasn’t thinking about her anxiety. She focused on what he had to say.

“What happened?” she encouraged with a soft whisper.

He didn’t turn, but she saw his shoulder flinch.

“Did you know I used to be real fat?” A harsh chuckle came out. “I mean really fat. I was picked on every day. Other than school I never left the house. I was afraid of running into someone from school, afraid to hear their words. I know it sounds stupid now, but at the time it was really awful.”

He leaned back against the wall, evading her gaze.

“It doesn’t sound stupid,” she uttered quietly. “Kids are cruel. Too cruel.”

He might have winced slightly. The scuff of his laceless sneaker in the dirt sounded unnaturally loud.

“When my parents planned the cruise, my first thought was of all the food that would be served. Then the guilt was always quick to follow. I never consciously planned to jump. I mean I wasn’t planning out my great farewell.” He paused. “I was standing at that railing, and the ocean was just hypnotic–it beckoned.”

Jill didn’t speak. She sat, gripped by his tale.

“The moment I let go of that rail my first thought was, Oh shit. But it was too late. I knew I’d made a huge mistake–but it was just too damn late.”

This time she drew her feet up under her and hoisted upright. He eyed her warily so she gave him his space, but she wanted to be more than a blob on the floor for him.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Not many people have the opportunity to survive their mistakes. My hell is in sitting here for years imagining what my parents went through–the pain that I caused them. They loved me so much. Probably fed me too much, but that was just my mother’s way. And now, how could I go back there and traumatize them all over? I don’t even know if they’re alive.”

He shook his head in frustration. “I live with my guilt. I grew up–I matured down here. About the only reason I might want to go back is to find those bullies just so I could say, Really? Look at you now. Are you all that? But no. I’m content in the Underworld. Hatred hasn’t made its way down here.”

Jill stepped forward to touch his arm. The muscle jerked under her stroke.

“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t pity me. That’s as bad as telling me I’m fat.”

Looking him up and down she could barely imagine the awkward boy that he described. Daniel was at least six feet tall. He was thin, but had a solid frame. He had been climbing around these tunnels for a long time and the efforts showed in his build.

“I don’t pity you,” she whispered. “I envy you. You’ve made peace with yourself. You are comfortable with yourself. You have no need to worry about what the world perceives you as. And I–” She stopped.

“You what?” Daniel turned to face her.

“I–” Oh God, her face was on fire. “I find that hot.”

“Hot?”

Jill did a fast calculation. Was the word hot around when he was up top?

“Umm,” Dammit, Wexler, you’re embarrassing yourself. “Attractive.”

Daniel’s lips hiked up into a damn fine grin. “I know what hot means. It’s definitely not something I’ve been called before.”

Jill bit her lip. “Well, people are stupid.”

He laughed. “That they are.” He stepped up to her and cupped both her shoulders in his hands. The touch sent pleasant currents through her skin.

Yeah, he was definitely hot.

“And you must be crazy, Jill Wexler,” he said, his face close enough that she could feel his soft breath. There was a faint hint of mint in it.

“I’m not crazy,” she protested softly.

“I don’t know a lot about women,” his voice was husky. “But I know what I like. And I like you.”

And just like that, his lips were on hers. The kiss was inquisitive, his mouth testing out the feel of hers. The patient exploration heightened her senses, as she wrapped her hands over his shoulders for balance. Instinct soon took over, and he knew exactly what he was doing. She never wanted it to stop. She clung to him, needing more of this–more of him.

Slowly he withdrew, but his mouth was still so frustratingly close. She finally opened her eyes to stare into deep brown waves as tumultuous as anything the ocean could produce.

“I–I never did that,” he whispered, the words tickling her lips.

“You sure couldn’t tell,” she murmured back.

She felt him smile, and then he pulled her into a tight hug.

“Well, if you go back up to the surface, I’m going to have something to remember for a long time.”

Jill drew back.

“I don’t want to go up there,” she swore. “I don’t want to die in that little coffin that Col and Stel are so excited about. I mean, seriously, you’ve seen it, can you tell me it looks safe? That it will make it?”

Daniel swiped his hair back from his face and blew out an extended breath.

“What do I know? You tell me your brother is some kind of engineer–that he’s been around the water and watercrafts his whole life. I’ve been on one ship. It didn’t go so well.”

For as sad and desperate as that declaration was, Jill almost giggled. Daniel caught her expression and chuckled. “Yeah, so see?”

“It’s not just a matter of me being afraid,” she uttered softly.

He touched her cheek, his palm warm and inviting. She leaned into it.

“I don’t want to leave you,” she asserted.

Daniel’s smile was sad. “Aww hell, Jill. There are a million guys you can have up there. You didn’t have much to pick from here.”

Jill swallowed down a clog of emotion.

“Out of a million guys, I would pick you.”

His eyes dropped closed, and fine lines of pain formed at their corners.

“You’ve got your whole life ahead of you,” he said. “You owe it to yourself to try and get back to the surface.”

“You don’t want me?” she pined.

“Jill–” He took her face in both palms and drew her mouth up for another kiss. “I want you more than you’ll ever know. It’s gonna sound really corny, but you’ve brought sun to my world.”

“A little corny,” she grinned, “but I like it.”

He reached for her hand. “We better get back. Your family will be looking for you.”

Jill linked her fingers through his. “Stay with me.”

“For as long as I can,” he vowed.