Read Online Obsidian (Mystic Stones Series #1) by Kayla Curry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kayla Curry
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today, and if you stuck around, you’d rub off on some other people.”
“How do you know all this? How do you know the kind of person I am?”
“I looked into your financial records. I shouldn’t have, but I found that all the money in your account at the end of the month goes to a charity. It’s always a different charity. You try to help everyone. You’re selfless.”
I couldn’t believe his words. He’d been keeping tabs on me. His secret intrusion into my life made my head spin even more. He wanted to know me, but he was afraid to get too close to me. When he found out I would be asked to sign a contract, he brought me into his life to protect me, or at least that’s what he wanted me to think. My thoughts splintered into a million strands. Each leading me to a different conclusion about Tom. One strand stood bright red against the crowd of gray tones. This one formed the shape of a question mark tethered to all the others and made me wonder if he was being genuine with me or not.
“Would you like some wine?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.” The strands dissipated into a smoke.
Tom prepared the glasses. He pulled out a different bottle than the one we drank from the night before. It was a red wine, like the one before but the bottle wore a different label. He poured the wine and brought the glasses and the wine to the coffee table.
One sip washed over my tongue and down my throat. The sweet liquid with a small bite woke my taste buds from a short nap. I took a few more sips. My mind raced with all the new information and my nervous drinking kicked in. Tom got up to find the remote to the stereo and allowed low music to fill the room. A high pitched violin sang a sad tune while a piano chased it with deep sorrowful steps.
I finished my first glass of wine then began to pour another, but Tom grabbed the bottle with such swiftness it disappeared before I grasped it. He smiled his sly grin and filled my glass halfway.
“I’m glad I can be myself around you now,” he said.
I took a sip and set my glass down knowing I’d keep drinking if I left it in my hand. I turned to Tom and began to study him again. I could see his dark brown eyes, the way his hair laid across his forehead, and his moist lips that I’d kissed the other night.
“What color were your eyes? Before, I mean.”
“They were green. After my change they were brighter, but then they faded and became darker and darker until they landed on the dark brown you see now,” he said, looking into my eyes. “They were nowhere near as beautiful as your eyes are.”
I tore my gaze from him and picked up my glass as a nervous gesture. I took another sip. As we listened to the music I finished my second glass. I set it back down on the coffee table and mentally cut myself off. The music was so lovely I let myself relax and gaze around the room. Shelves on the south wall housed a vast collection of music, books, and items from cultures around the world.
“You have many interests,” I said.
“Yes. It comes with all the free time. Hobbies are a must if you want to stay sane.”
I listened to the music more intently. I sensed the emotion in the particular song that was playing. It was much like the man sitting before me—sweet at times and strong tones of passion at others.
Tom was a passionate man. His kiss the other night had been passionate too. I tried to make myself stop thinking about it, but couldn’t. That was before he revealed himself as a monster. I had a hard time considering this man a monster. His actions seemed too gentle. He reminded me of a movie I’d watched as a kid: Beauty and the Beast. The only difference is there’s no magic spell to break here.
Tom’s eyes were kind and gentle, but I’d seen a beast in there somewhere at the warehouse. Yet, as I looked into his eyes, what happened in the warehouse became less important. He said it was an act. The beast hadn’t resurfaced since, which led me to believe him, but
“How do you know all this? How do you know the kind of person I am?”
“I looked into your financial records. I shouldn’t have, but I found that all the money in your account at the end of the month goes to a charity. It’s always a different charity. You try to help everyone. You’re selfless.”
I couldn’t believe his words. He’d been keeping tabs on me. His secret intrusion into my life made my head spin even more. He wanted to know me, but he was afraid to get too close to me. When he found out I would be asked to sign a contract, he brought me into his life to protect me, or at least that’s what he wanted me to think. My thoughts splintered into a million strands. Each leading me to a different conclusion about Tom. One strand stood bright red against the crowd of gray tones. This one formed the shape of a question mark tethered to all the others and made me wonder if he was being genuine with me or not.
“Would you like some wine?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.” The strands dissipated into a smoke.
Tom prepared the glasses. He pulled out a different bottle than the one we drank from the night before. It was a red wine, like the one before but the bottle wore a different label. He poured the wine and brought the glasses and the wine to the coffee table.
One sip washed over my tongue and down my throat. The sweet liquid with a small bite woke my taste buds from a short nap. I took a few more sips. My mind raced with all the new information and my nervous drinking kicked in. Tom got up to find the remote to the stereo and allowed low music to fill the room. A high pitched violin sang a sad tune while a piano chased it with deep sorrowful steps.
I finished my first glass of wine then began to pour another, but Tom grabbed the bottle with such swiftness it disappeared before I grasped it. He smiled his sly grin and filled my glass halfway.
“I’m glad I can be myself around you now,” he said.
I took a sip and set my glass down knowing I’d keep drinking if I left it in my hand. I turned to Tom and began to study him again. I could see his dark brown eyes, the way his hair laid across his forehead, and his moist lips that I’d kissed the other night.
“What color were your eyes? Before, I mean.”
“They were green. After my change they were brighter, but then they faded and became darker and darker until they landed on the dark brown you see now,” he said, looking into my eyes. “They were nowhere near as beautiful as your eyes are.”
I tore my gaze from him and picked up my glass as a nervous gesture. I took another sip. As we listened to the music I finished my second glass. I set it back down on the coffee table and mentally cut myself off. The music was so lovely I let myself relax and gaze around the room. Shelves on the south wall housed a vast collection of music, books, and items from cultures around the world.
“You have many interests,” I said.
“Yes. It comes with all the free time. Hobbies are a must if you want to stay sane.”
I listened to the music more intently. I sensed the emotion in the particular song that was playing. It was much like the man sitting before me—sweet at times and strong tones of passion at others.
Tom was a passionate man. His kiss the other night had been passionate too. I tried to make myself stop thinking about it, but couldn’t. That was before he revealed himself as a monster. I had a hard time considering this man a monster. His actions seemed too gentle. He reminded me of a movie I’d watched as a kid: Beauty and the Beast. The only difference is there’s no magic spell to break here.
Tom’s eyes were kind and gentle, but I’d seen a beast in there somewhere at the warehouse. Yet, as I looked into his eyes, what happened in the warehouse became less important. He said it was an act. The beast hadn’t resurfaced since, which led me to believe him, but
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