Chapter Six
I woke up in a cold sweat, my shirt damp and the sheets wrapped around my legs like a cocoon. I sat up, shivering, and looked around my room. It was dark and the shadows loomed in the corners menacingly. With shaking hands I turned on the light and pulled the blanket out from around me. I swung my leg over the bed and rested my elbows on my thighs.
It was just a dream I told myself. A stupid nightmare, that's all. There's nothing more to it than that. Still, I grabbed my crutches, and started hobbling to the door. Leaning on my good leg, I swung the door open and started my trek across the apartment to the kitchen. The apartment was just as dark as my room and a chill went through me. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. The wind howled outside, slapping tree branches against the building.
I rested my crutches against the counter and held onto the open refrigerator door. Peering in, I took out a bottle of water and let the liquid coat my sore vocal cords. Although I didn't hear myself, I had a feeling that I was crying out in my sleep, yelling really, based on how much my throat hurt. I was surprised that Rebecca didn't come charging into my room again. Maybe she doesn’t care anymore. She’s still pretty pissed at me. She probably heard and didn’t bother to check up on me.
After finishing the bottle of water and putting with the rest of the recyclables underneath the sink, I turned around and gasped. Standing not six inches away from me was Jacob. He looked like he had just woken up himself. His hair was disheveled and the shirt he wore was backwards. I jumped and stepped back, knocking into the refrigerator. Though he was still hanging out in the living room when I went to bed, I never expected to see him in the middle of the night. He had an eerie smile on his face. Why didn’t Rebecca tell me about this? I wondered. The answer was simple: she didn’t want word to get back to our father. If he knew that Jacob was staying over, especially that he was staying in Rebecca’s room, he would be down in Virginia before Rebecca could blink. Her good girl image would crumble under her feet.
“Hey there,” Jacob said. “What are you doing up this late?”
“Just getting some water,” I said. “What's it to you?” I tried to grab at my crutches but Jacob's arm stopped me. He rested a hand against the fridge, on either side of my body, trapping me in. “Jacob what the hell are you doing?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Just trying to have a talk with my girlfriend's sister. Is that such a crime?”
“No but you're invading my personal space. I’m very touchy about my personal space. Now move.” I tried to push his hands away but he wouldn't budge.
“Don't be so hostile, Amber, I'm trying to be your friend you know. I think Rebecca would like it if we were friends.”
“Well it's a good thing, then, that I make it my goal not to make my sister happy.” Again I tried to move away but instead of turning to the side, Jacob took his hands and wrapped them around my arms.
“You are so pretty, Amber,” Jacob said. He was so close that I could feel his breath against my face. My stomach cramped and I had to swallow down a retch. “You are much prettier than Rebecca. And you got sass...I like sass.”
“Take your damn hands off of me, Jacob.” Jacob removed one hand only to use it to push back the hair from my face. I gritted my teeth and my eyes darted around for something, anything that I could grab. I wanted to smash something against him, stopping him from whatever he was planning on doing. There was nothing.
“Little red riding hood is a feisty one, I see,” Jacob said. “I want you, Amber, I can’t hide it anymore.”
“Screw you,” I hissed.
“Don't bother denying it. I know you want me to. I saw it from the first day you set eyes on me. Those sexy, smoldering eyes.”
What the hell is going on with Jacob? Is he drunk? Is he crazy? I subtly tried to sniff around, seeing if I could smell any alcohol. I couldn't. Jacob was stone cold sober and still doing what he was doing. Fabulous, my sister was sleeping with a monster. It was the icing on the cake. As he inched closer, his eyes roaming down my face and his one hand playing with my collar bone, I spied a handle protruding from the sink. My fingers wrapped around the handle and I lifted it slightly; it was a metal spatula left over from dinner. Once my grip was tight, I swung the spatula