I climbed into my Bronco and shut the door to block out her words. No. I didn’t want to hear her. I couldn’t. Not now. I rested my forehead on the steering wheel and cranked the ignition until the engine roared to life under the hood. I wasn’t sure how fast my Bronco could go, but I hoped it was fast enough to outrun death.
Chapter 26
Anaya
He hated me.
He had to after everything I’d done. Everything I’d asked of him. But I didn’t know another way.
And I couldn’t stand lying to him another minute. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I looked out over
Cash’s backyard from the roof of his house. A few lights inside glowed with life, casting shadows across the clean concrete slab where Emma’s house used to sit before the fire that had changed everything. The billowing clouds overhead looked like smoke as they rumbled and spat out little droplets of rain. The music vibrating Cash’s studio walls cut off and I sat up when the door creaked open. Cash stepped out into the rain, not even bothering to shield himself. It pelted his scalp and within seconds his black hair was dripping over his forehead. His blue T-shirt turned to paint against his skin. I had to squeeze my eyes shut when the memory of Tarik kissing me in the rain swept over me.
“Are you going to stay up there all night?” he finally said. When I opened my eyes he looked so tired, worn down. I scooted to the edge of the roof and let my legs dangle over the sides.
“I didn’t think you wanted me to come in.”
“I don’t.” He pushed the wet hair out of his face. “But that’s probably not going to stop you, now is it?”
He didn’t say anything else. Just walked back into his studio and left the door open so the light could be swallowed up by the night. Another clap of thunder shook the house and a bright purple streak of lightning cracked the sky in half, illuminating a few shadow demons creeping around the walls of the studio. I stared at the open door. He was angry. But he wouldn’t have left that door open if he didn’t feel anything for me anymore. Some part of him still cared. Still wanted this. I hopped off the roof and headed for the studio.
When I got inside, Cash was peeling off his soaked T-shirt. He tossed it into the corner of the room and glanced up at me, shivering. His arms glittered with gold paint.
“You’re cold,” I said.
“No shit, Sherlock.” He shook his head and sat on the bar stool in front of a canvas. “So, Dr.
Kevorkian. You here to finish the job yourself? I bet that blade of yours would do the trick.”
Something inside me cracked at the sound of his voice. So bitter. Angry. It didn’t sound anything like the boy leaving whispers in the hollow of my neck. If I still had the ability to cry, I knew tears would have been streaming down my cheeks. Instead the pain all stayed locked up inside.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice shattering. Just like the rest of me. “I know you don’t believe me, but I wouldn’t have been able to do it even if you weren’t Tarik—”
“I am not Tarik,” he snapped. “I’m just me. If that’s not enough for you, then I don’t know what to tell you. Sorry for your loss, I guess.”
I flinched as each one of his words struck me like a slap in the face.
“I know you’re not!” I shook, balling up the sides of my dress in my fists. “I don’t want you to be.
And I’ll find another way if that’s what you want. Just please… please don’t hate me.”
“What happens to you, Anaya?”
“What do you mean?”
Cash stared at his canvas, at the half-painted portrait of a sad girl with golden eyes. He was painting me.
“I mean what happens to you if you don’t follow through for him?” he said. “What happens if you do this? If you let me cross the gates without his permission?”
I swallowed, trying to force that annoying ache down my throat. It wouldn’t budge.
“Anaya?”
“I’ll be banished,” I said. “To Hell.”
Cash placed his hands on his knees and closed his eyes. He was shaking from the inside out.
“Well, that option’s out.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” I took a hesitant step forward. “I’d do it. I’d do it for you.”
“For me…or for Tarik?” Cash said, so quiet I almost didn’t hear.
He might as well have slapped me in the face. How could he think that? I had told him I’d go to Hell for him! Didn’t that mean anything? Had I loved Tarik? Yes. But the connection I felt now was to this boy. This boy who was so wonderfully different and right for me that being in the room with him tilted my world off-balance. “How could you even ask me that?” I whispered.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he said. “Whatever I do, I belong to someone else.”
I just looked at him.
“If I go along with this, I’ll belong to this Balthazar guy. If I don’t, then I belong to the shadow demons just like Noah.” He stopped and took a deep breath, turned around to face me. His eyes branded every part of me. “And everywhere in between, it feels like I belong to you.”
“Cash…”
He stood up and stepped into me. My shimmer sparked off his skin. His breath fanned across my face. Sweet. Heated, despite how cold the rest of him was.
“I really want to hate you,” he whispered and reached up to brush a braid off my shoulder. When the braid turned to vapor between his fingers, his jaw clenched. He focused on his fingers and the braid became solid in his grasp. I closed my eyes as Cash’s touch forced gravity to take hold of my skin. It burned as it took on the form of something I’d left behind so many years ago I’d lost count. Once I was solid, Cash pushed the braid off my shoulder, letting his fingers slide over my shoulder blade, and
I opened my eyes. He stared at the strap of my dress.
“Why can’t I hate you?”
It was only a whisper. I never realized a whisper could hold so much emotion. Could sound so tortured. I couldn’t stand a sound like that coming out of his mouth. So I did the only thing I could think of to make sure the sound didn’t come out again. I leaned up on my tiptoes and pressed my mouth to his.
His lips were so cold against my mine that I wondered if I was burning him. I started to pull away to check, but Cash wound his arms around my back and crushed me closer. So close the air between us was lost. So close, I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. Vaguely, I realized our legs were moving. A clumsy dance that landed us on the sofa in the corner of the room. All the way, he never broke the kiss. That kiss worked like stitches. It was the only thing holding either of us together.
Trapping the hurt inside. I was terrified of the pain that would spill out when it ended, so I didn’t let it.
Cash lay back on the sofa and I straddled his hips without him having to guide me. His hands slid up my thighs and gripped my hips. His mouth opened a little wider under mine and I gasped at the dull sensations that flowed through me, growing stronger by the second. He wasn’t just forcing my flesh into existence. He was making me feel things I hadn’t felt since a heart had beaten with life in my chest. My hands wandered over the smooth, hard lines of his chest, trying to memorize every dip and ridge and muscle. When my fingers brushed over his bare stomach, Cash groaned, his hips lifting to press into me as if he wasn’t in control of his own body.
“Anaya…” My name rested like a plea against his lips and all I could feel was his mouth working its way down my throat. The fire in my veins. The electricity that his fingertips created. A blue ribbon of energy wrapped around us, binding us, and nothing had ever felt so right. Cash’s hand worked between us and flipped open the button of his jeans, and a flare of heat exploded to life at my side. My blade. Oh God… I pulled away gasping, my palm glowing against his chest. He was so close the heat drained out of me in an instant, replaced by fear.