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“I understand,” she whispers. “But she’ll be so upset she missed you.”
Will she? This sends more golden stuff pouring into me, though the foolishness of my actions is starting to splinter through my reckless peace now. I really shouldn’t be here.
Patti squeezes my shoulders as I bend to give her a quick kiss on the cheek and go. Her eyes are filled with moisture when I leave.
Nervousness invades my system as I walk quickly to the BMW.
Stupid, stupid, stupid . . .
I reach up and yank off my knitted cap to run my hand roughly through my hair, which I haven’t cut in the fourteen months since I moved. It waves over my ears as I pull the cap back on. I’m at the BMW now, opening the door. As disappointed as I am, I know it’s for the best that A
I turn abruptly as something moves in my peripheral vision. I stand there and stare across the parking lot. From her light blue sneakers to her black yoga bottoms that fit every curve—bloody hell—to the thin jumper that can’t possibly be warm enough. She’s on the other side of the lot, her back to me. She stares up at the snow, oblivious to her surroundings. I want to shake her and yell, “I could have been a Duke or an axe murderer and you’d have never noticed me!”
But all I can do is stare. And then her name slips past my lips.
She freezes in front of her apartment stairwell and her head snaps up. Her cheeks, which were pink, go red as she stares back at me.
“Hi,” she whispers, and it’s so simple, so sweet, so A
“Hi, yourself.”
I should leave. I shouldn’t have called her name. I shouldn’t be here. I know all of that, and yet, I can’t move.
“I hate Valentine’s Day,” she says.
My heart squeezes at the sound of sadness in her voice, but I grin at her blunt honesty. “Yeah, it’s shite.”
I want to tell her I’m fairly certain my father created this poor excuse for a holiday as a way to promote disappointment among lovers, but I don’t want to mention him.
She rewards me with a small smile, then falls serious. “Is everything okay?”
No. No, everything is not okay. Everything has been awful. But right now, in this moment, it feels perfect.
“I just needed to see that you’re well. And it seems you are.”
I want to go to her so badly that I grip the car door to keep from ru
That’s right, little A
I’m finally going to touch her again. Then I’m going to get to the bottom of what’s going on with this “traveling” business. I’ll worry about the consequences later. Right now, A
I move to shut the door and go to her when I feel the itch of a tingle across my neck. My eyes flash to the gray winter sky and I’m blasted with a sight I recognize well.
Two whisperers.
“Fuck,” I whisper. I step back, and it kills me. A
My skin turns to ice in the cold air as I move to climb back into the car, leaving as quickly as I can, so as not to endanger her by being seen together.
That is why I ca
When I’m well enough away, I smack the steering wheel with my palms. I shout every obscenity I can at the top of my lungs. I rip my hat off and throw it on the floor.
We will never be safe. She can never be mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Rage
“The secret side of me I never let you see
I keep it caged but I can’t control it, so stay away from me.”
—“Monster” by Skillet
Seeing A
I’ve always gone through the motions of life, doing what needs to be done and putting on a good show, but I’ve stopped caring about the show now. I can’t even lose myself in the drums anymore. I’m too busy wishing for something more. The band knows something’s up with me, and I overhear them talking. They think I’ve become a cokehead or some shit. I don’t bother correcting them.
In May I start to feel the itch. It’s been three months since I saw her, and I know her birthday’s coming up. I need to hear from her, to get my fix.
I’m sitting at a bar with Michael, Be
“Where are you?” I ask when Marna answers.
“Scotland, my lad.” She sounds chipper.
“Any news?”
“Erm . . . no. Not really.”
“Not really?”
“I meant no. Just no.”
A prickle of apprehension heats my skin. “Are they still traveling together?”
“No.”
Before I can ask another question I hear my mates greeting someone loudly, and the voice of A
“Hey, Kai! You’re coming tonight, right?”
“Who’s that?” Marna asks in a rush. “Is it the other A
“Hush,” I say, turning to A
“Oh, sorry! Didn’t know you were on the phone.” She smiles and covers her mouth, turning to the bartender for a drink.
“What a cow,” Marna mutters.
“Tell me what else you’ve heard, Marn.”
She pauses too long. “Like I said, nothing.”
My skin heats. As usual, I go for worst-case scenario. “Something’s happened. Is anyone hurt?”
“No!”
Second-worst-case scenario. “Did they hook up?”
Marna pauses too long again, and this time pain alights along my skin as if I’m being eaten by fire ants. She lets out a fake laugh. “No . . . don’t be silly.”
Marna is lying. She always pauses awkwardly before she lies.
“I’ve got to go.” I sound as deadly as I feel.
“Kaidan, wait!”
“You paused, Marna.” I let this sink in.
She sounds frantic. “Please, listen. It’s not what you think.”
“It’s exactly what I think.”
“No, I mean it. There was just one moment, one tiny kiss, but they’re not—”
“Stop,” I whisper fiercely, squeezing my mobile. “I don’t want to hear it.”
I can’t believe this is happening. In this moment I acknowledge to myself that I always held out a small hope that A
Within a matter of seconds, I rebuild the walls around myself that A
I don’t care.
I don’t feel.
Nothing can touch me.
“Kai?” Marna whispers on the other end of the phone. I scarcely hear her.
A