The Host_ A Novel - Stephenie Meyer [84]
“Feel better?” Jeb asked, his eyes opening.
I shrugged.
“It’s going to be okay, you know.” He grinned a wide, face-stretching grin. “That stuff I said to Jared… Well, I won’t say I lied, exactly, because it’s all true if you look at it from a certain angle, but from another angle, it wasn’t so much the truth as it was what he needed to hear.”
I just stared; I didn’t understand a word of what he was saying.
“Anyway, Jared needs a break from this. Not from you, kid,” he added quickly, “but from the situation. He’ll gain some perspective while he’s away.”
I wondered how he seemed to know exactly which words and phrases would cut at me. And, more than that, why should Jeb care if his words hurt me, or even if my back was aching and throbbing? His kindness toward me was frightening in its own way because it was incomprehensible. At least Jared’s actions made sense. Kyle’s and Ian’s murder attempts, the doctor’s cheerful eagerness to hurt me-these behaviors also were logical. Not kindness. What did Jeb want from me?
“Don’t look so glum,” Jeb urged. “There’s a bright side to this. Jared was being real pigheaded about you, and now that he’s temporarily out of the picture, it’s bound to make things more comfortable.”
My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to decide what he meant.
“For example,” he went on. “This space here we usually use for storage. Now, when Jared and the guys get back, we’re going to need someplace to put all the stuff they bring home with them. So we might as well find a new place for you now. Something a little bigger, maybe? Something with a bed?” He smiled again as he dangled the carrot in front of me.
I waited for him to snatch it away, to tell me he was joking.
Instead, his eyes-the color of faded blue jeans-became very, very gentle. Something about the expression in them brought the lump back to my throat.
“You don’t have to go back in that hole, honey. The worst part’s over.”
I found that I couldn’t doubt the earnest look on his face. For the second time in an hour, I put my face in my hands and cried.
He got to his feet and patted me awkwardly on the shoulder. He didn’t seem comfortable with tears. “There, there,” he mumbled.
I got control of myself more quickly this time. When I wiped the wet from my eyes and smiled tentatively at him, he nodded in approval.
“That’s a girl,” he said, patting me again. “Now, we’ll have to hang out here until we’re sure Jared’s really gone and can’t catch us.” He grinned conspiratorially. “Then we’ll have some fun!”
I remembered that his idea of fun was usually along the lines of an armed standoff.
He chuckled at my expression. “Don’t worry about it. While we’re waiting, you might as well try to get some rest. I’ll bet even that skinny mattress would feel pretty good to you right now.”
I looked from his face to the mat on the floor and back.
“Go on,” he said. “You look like you could use a good sleep. I’ll keep watch over you.”
Touched, new moisture in my eyes, I sank down on the mat and laid my head on the pillow. It was heavenly, despite Jeb’s calling it thin. I stretched out to my full height, pointing my toes and reaching out with my fingers. I heard my joints popping. Then I let myself wilt into the mattress. It felt as if it were hugging me, erasing all the sore spots. I sighed.
“Does me good to see that,” Jeb muttered. “It’s like an itch you can’t scratch, knowing someone is suffering under your own roof.”
He eased himself to the floor a few yards away and started humming quietly. I was asleep before he’d finished the first bar.
When I woke up, I knew that I’d been solidly asleep for a long time-a longer stretch than I’d slept since coming here. No pains, no frightening interruptions. I would have felt pretty good, except that waking on the pillow reminded me that Jared was gone. It still smelled like him. And in a good way, not the way I smelled.
Back to just dreams. Melanie sighed forlornly.
I remembered my dream only vaguely, but I knew it had featured Jared, as was usual when I was able to sleep deeply enough to dream.