Taint (Formerly Claimed) Dark Midnight 1

Chapter 16

*Thanks for all the feedback!  I will try to respond to all the comments ASAP.  Hope you enjoy this chapter!

-Nikki*

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Thump!

In a sudden thud of commotion, someone mounted the bottom step. Miriam could only blink in shock as Eliot pushed his way in front of her, blocking her view of the doorway. He moved so fast, she barely saw him—like a blur of fire and ivory. 

“Are you expecting anyone?”  He demanded in a growl.

Miriam shook her head.  “N-no one.”

She didn’t like how his jaw clenched at that or how his shoulders stiffened into firm lines that seemed cut from stone beneath his dark sweater. 

It was…odd, now that she thought about it.  There was practically a full-blown blizzard outside and here he was, dressed only in a simple sweater. 

It was almost as if the cold didn’t affect him one bit—

“MIRIAM!”

Startled, she stumbled forward and nearly collided with Eliot’s back.  The voice seemed familiar, but it wasn’t until another shout echoed off the walls that she realized the voice was her father’s. 

“Miri?”

She could clearly recognize it now, frantic enough to match the hasty footsteps climbing the stairs in an unsteady tandem. 

Boom!  Thump, thump!

“Miri!”  He shouted again in rising pitch.   “Miriam?!  Where are you?!”

With a gulp, she stumbled her way past the hulking shape of Eliot to stumble to the door. 

“I…I’m here, Dad.”

He appeared in an instant around the corner leading to the stairs, looking more haggard and worn than ever.  Black shadows lined his brown eyes while flecks of thick snow still dotted his hair. 

Miriam couldn’t help but think that he almost looked like a reanimated corpse, who crawled from his grave.

When he caught sight of her, those tired eyes widened with instant relief. 

“Miriam, thank God!” 

Without warning, she found herself engulfed in his slender arms, crushed to a painfully thin chest.  Despite all those promises of her ‘favorite spaghetti’ she could tell that he hadn’t eaten much. 

He smelled odd as well.  His scent was similar to mint gum and cheap deodorant—as if he’d been washing up in the bathroom of his office instead of taking a real shower. 

He seemed too fragile to even wrap her arms around fully.  She allowed them dangle uselessly at her sides, as ice cold fingers began to stroke her hair. 

“My God, I was so worried,” he breathed into her scalp.  His arms tightened and Miriam realized that this physical contact was the closest she’d been to him in a while…

After four months on her own, she’d had almost forgotten what it was like to be in his embrace. 

These days, she was lucky to get a nod, a handshake, a simple touch—anything that didn't involve him coming closer than it took just to sprout off the same old tired lines. 

‘Catch ya later, kiddo!  Blah, blah, blah, I’ll make spaghetti.’

It had been so long since he’d actually hugged her like this.  Hell, maybe not even since she’d been small enough to curl up on his lap.