He nodded. “It was Raoul’s suggestion … and why I offered it to you.”
“I’m glad.”
Nestled against his side, I worked through the rest of his box, unearthing certificates for academics and a bad poetry journal. That, Kian yanked away from me with red tinting his cheeks. He wore a hunted look.
“Please don’t open that.”
“You write poetry?”
“Nothing worth keeping. And not for a long time.”
“Read me something,” I demanded.
I’d never been close enough to anyone to feel comfortable being so bossy. With Kian, it seemed … safe. He paged through the notebook and mumbled, “I dream of sunlit streams /And moonless tides. / Of infinity / Among dark rocks. / I dream of quiet souls / And divinity / That breaks like a wave / Over me. / And instead of drowning, / You pull me in; / I swim.”
I was good at identifying themes and explaining them to teachers, but I had never listened to a poem and felt anything before. That didn’t mean Kian’s work had literary merit, and … maybe it was because I knew what his life was like when he wrote it, but I understood the words from the inside out.
“You were so sad,” I said softly. “Wondering if there’s a god, looking for someone to stop you.”
He drew in a sharp breath. “You see too much.”
“I want to see everything.”
This is happening. This is real.
I came up on my knees and hugged him; sometimes it felt like we were two halves of the same soul, and that was so stupid it made me feel like I lost IQ points just for thinking it. His arms tightened around me and he buried his face in my hair. For a few seconds, I imagined what this would’ve been like with him thin and me fat, if it would’ve felt better, worse or just … different. Sometimes I felt like an impostor in my own body.
“When Wedderburn told me to get close to you, I was, like, shit. Because anything he wants isn’t good for the people involved.”
“There has to be a way that this doesn’t end badly,” I said. “We’ll find it. You said I have to be with you or cut you loose. I’m ready, I’m not scared anymore.”
He exhaled against my hair. “I’m glad. Because it kills me when you look at me like I’m one of the monsters.”
His hands trembled on my back and he tucked his face against my neck. His breath was hot and damp, misting on my skin. Any other moment, that would’ve been exciting, but he was shaking, his breath coming in quiet gasps. I touched his hair, alarmed.
“Kian?”
“I’m so sorry. You have no idea how awful I feel. I close my eyes and I see what they did to you, and I should’ve stopped it. That moment haunts me. I wish I’d kicked Cameron’s ass. I don’t even care that it means I’d be gone, as long as you’d be all right. But—”
“If they hadn’t forced me to extremis then, they’d have done something worse, and you’d have died for nothing. Bottom line, I burn my favors, like Wedderburn wants, because my liaison doesn’t care. I end up dancing like a puppet on his string. You’re the reason I’m even remotely in the game. So stop torturing yourself.”
“I don’t think I can. That’s all I want, you know. For you to be okay.” His voice was low and hoarse, ragged as if he’d spent a whole night screaming. The intensity he radiated was thrilling but also scary.
“You have to care about other things. Yourself, your life, your freedom.”
“Sure, Edie.” He said it too readily; I didn’t believe him.
For long moments, I just held him, hoping I could hug the hurt out. Comforting him made me feel stronger, though, like I could let go of my shame and pain to make Kian feel better. Eventually I sat back enough kiss him. His lips tasted faintly of salt.
“That’s enough personal history for the day. Want to take me home?” Belatedly I realized how that sounded, and heat washed my cheeks.
Oh God, why?
“More than you know.”
“That was quite a line,” I managed to say.
His green eyes settled on my face, shining with such fervor that I might burn from it. “It’s only a line if I don’t mean it.”
I had no answer for that. Silently, my cheeks still on fire, I helped him restore order to the storage unit and we went down to the car. “Why wasn’t all your stuff at the house?”
“Partly because I wanted a new start and Raoul warned me not to keep precious things too close.” That sounded ominous.
“Because you could be targeted by Dwyer & Fell?” I remembered him saying they’d gone after him before, and they just burned his house down. Damage like that could destroy all happy mementos of his former life.
“Yep.”
“Great, now I have something else to worry about. I don’t know if our insurance will cover ulcers at seventeen.”
He smiled, as I intended him to. The car started with a purr and he pulled smoothly into traffic. On the ride home, Kian told me a little more about his aunt and uncle, concluding, “I’ll call them and see if we can come for lunch on Sunday.”
“Lunch?
“Dinner would get you home too late. It’s almost five hours, depending on traffic.”
“No, it’s okay. I mean, unless you just want me to meet them. It’s a long way to drive to reassure me … and I already believe in you.”
His throat worked visibly. “It’s been a long time since anyone said that to me.”
“I’ll say it again if you want, slower this time.” I tried on a flirty smile, and to my relief, I didn’t feel like an idiot.
He grinned at me, thanking me with his eyes for not making a thing about the fact that he wore his heart close to the skin. “Let’s not pack too much excitement into a single day.”
My mom and dad were waiting when I got home. They were weird and solicitous, as if Brittany and I had been friends for years. My dad made my favorite soup—homemade chicken noodle and my mom produced a carton of ice cream. Tonight, however, I limited myself to a single scoop instead of filling a huge bowl. Both my parents were weedy academics, not prone to overindulgence in anything, except esoteric ideas. As we ate, I brought up my college application, and as expected, that occupied them until I could escape.
“Thanks for dinner. It was really good.”
They exchanged one of their looks, then my mother spoke. “Will you be all right tonight? I’ve been asked to do a guest lecture, and there’s a cocktail party afterward—”
“I’m fine,” I assured them. “I’ll do my homework and maybe Skype with Vi.”
“Who’s that again?” My dad was frowning.
“I met her at the SSP. She lives in Ohio.”
“Oh, right.” His brow cleared. Any kid who could get into the science program was apparently good enough for me to chat with online.
“If you’re sure,” my mom said, pushing away from the table.
After that, she got ready in a hurry while my dad and I washed the dishes. Twenty minutes later, she came out in her standard black dress, having dotted her cheeks with blush and put on red lipstick that didn’t suit her. Last year, I wouldn’t have known that.
“Have fun.” I shut the door behind them and turned the deadbolt.
Though I’d been alone countless times before, this felt different, somehow. Strange noises rumbled in the apartment, nothing I could identify, and I couldn’t settle on my assignments. I roamed from room to room, checking in closets and looking under the beds. Soon I’d be rummaging through cupboards and making myself a tinfoil hat. Brittany’s specter haunted me, whispering accusations that sent shivers down my spine.
“It’s your imagination,” I said out loud.
My voice was supposed to reassure me, but the strange tinnitus was back, ringing so loud that I thought it was the phone for a few seconds. Then I realized it was, but it sounded like it was inside my skull. I ran to answer it, and when I picked up, there was only a single high-pitched note. I slammed the phone down and unplugged it.