Текст книги "Come to Me Quietly"

Автор книги: A. L. Jackson

Соавторы: A. L. Jackson
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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

TWENTY-FIVE

May 2006

Jared closed his eyes as he slumped back on his bed. Warmth shocked through his system, a moment’s euphoria, a moment’s relief. He floated, lifted, and fell. For just a little while, it didn’t hurt so bad.

But it never lasted.

He curled on his side, holding his stomach, trying to deflect the surge of feeling that came storming back. Fire coursed through his veins, a foreign voice shrieking from the hollowed-out hole where his soul had once been. Jared opened his mouth and forced his face into the pillow. A silent scream ripped from this throat.

He couldn’t do this anymore.

Jared sat up. He swayed. He steadied himself and tore a hand through his too long hair as he frantically looked around the haze of his room. He had to get it together and figure this shit out. He kept thinking he’d fill himself so full with poison that he’d sleep, that he’d fall and never wake. But it was never good enough, and he always was thrown back into this everlasting hell.

Jared yanked open the bottom drawer of his desk and shoved the few precious tokens of what had been into his backpack, unsure why he couldn’t leave them behind, topped it with the cheap bottle of whiskey he’d snatched from his dad’s cabinet. He buried his stash in the front pocket under a crumpled-up shirt he grabbed from the floor.

Not like it fucking mattered. He wouldn’t be getting caught this time. He’d see it through. He’d pay, and never again would he have the chance to destroy the good.

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Jared went to his window and parted the drapes. With his pulse pounding in his ears, he slowly slid it open. He cringed when it squeaked. He was supposed to be grounded. That was his father’s solution. Grounding. Jared had been arrested and expelled from school, and apparently that had been a just punishment.

Jared scoffed, his grip tightening on the frame of the window. God, his dad was clueless. Did he really think grounding him for a month and sending him to a new school was going to fix things? Really, he knew his dad didn’t want to deal with him or his shit.

Jared couldn’t blame him.

He’d ruined his life.

Night after night, Jared had lain and listened to his father weep, the sound resonating through the barren place that had once been their home. Courtney was gone. Two weeks after the funeral, she’d been sent to their grandparents’ because their father had lost the capacity to care for anything or anyone. It was only supposed to be temporary. Jared’s gut told him it was not. He just hoped she’d escaped this all, that his sister had been spared.

Jared’s father was only another life he had taken.

Jared quietly inched toward his door, inclined his ear to it and listened for his father. Anxiety crawled up his spine. He couldn’t afford to mess this up. A distant TV droned from the living room. The rest of the house echoed the cavernous void. Jared crossed his room to his window and pushed at the frame of the screen until it bent and gave. Holding his breath, he slipped over the sill and out into the night.

Crouched down, he ran across the yard, panting when he hit the garage wall of the Ramirezes’ two houses down. Jared peered through the small window. No lights shone, and their car was gone. For years he’d mowed their lawn, and just as many times he’d sat in their kitchen drinking from a glass of lemonade when Mrs. Ramirez would call him in to take a break from the sun. He also knew what they kept in the den.

Jared raked his hand through his hair as he pressed up against the wall, searching for courage. But there was no courage. There was only pain and the throbbing call of the debt he knew he had to pay.

Jared shoved off the wall, dropped his backpack to the ground, and jerked the shirt from the front pocket. He wrapped it haphazardly around his hand, pinching his eyes closed as he sucked in the stifling air. He slammed his fist into the small, square garage window.

Glass shattered. It crashed as it fell to the concrete floor.

“Shit,” he hissed quietly, jerking around to peer into the distant darkness. From down the street, a dog barked, but no one even seemed to stir or notice his presence.

Jared turned back to his task, wincing as he unwound the bloodied shirt from his hand. He softly groaned as he did his best to ignore the stinging ache. He didn’t have time to be distracted.

Jared knocked the rest of the jagged pieces of window glass free with this elbow. The few remaining clattered to the floor. He gathered his bag from the ground and tossed it inside. Grunting, he wedged himself through the narrow hole.

Inside, the garage was dark. Only the dimmest moonlight spilled in through the window that had given him entry. He plucked his bag from the floor and slung it over his shoulder, making his way inside the house. A dull overhead light illuminated the kitchen, and Jared quickly crossed through and down the hall.

He knew exactly where he was going.

He flicked on the light in the den. Two worn recliners faced an old television set, and family pictures lined the walls. Jared trained his attention on his goal because he couldn’t look at all those faces smiling, all that family and joy. Not when he’d destroyed his.

Against the far wall was an antique gun cabinet. The solid wood was polished and detailed, the glass panes etched. Housed inside were Mr. Ramirez’s guns, two rifles, a shotgun, and a large handgun. He’d shown Jared once, told him the story behind each one.

Fear slicked like ice just under Jared’s skin, and his heart beat erratically as he stared at them. It didn’t matter that he was scared. His mom had been scared, too. He’d seen it. Felt it.

Jared inched forward and turned the old rustic lock. It clicked and gave way, the doors yielding to the call. Jared took the handgun from its case. It was so heavy and cold. He swallowed hard before he rummaged around and found the right bullets, held his breath as he loaded it. He shoved it in the front pocket of his backpack.

Jared was heading back through the kitchen when he heard the garage whine shut and the slam of a car door. He froze. He clutched his bag to his chest, his eyes darting around the room, looking for an escape.

Five seconds later, the door he’d come in through opened. Joe Ramirez gasped, his feet faltering below him.

“Jared?” he said more in shock than in question. He blinked away his stupor. “What are you doing in here?”

Jared fumbled in the front pocket of his backpack and brought out the gun. He pointed it at him.

What am I doing… what am I doing… what am I doing? Jared chanted in his head. Sickness swirled in his gut, pressure building in his head.

“Come, now, Jared. Give me the gun.” The old man watched him with outright sympathy and a twinge of fear. “I know you don’t want to do this. I know you.”

Harshly, Jared shook his head, unwilling to listen to what Joe said, the gun trembling as he held it out in front of him. “Just… just sit down in that chair.” Jared’s tongue darted out to wet his dry, cracked lips, that void in his veins screaming out to be filled.

“Jared… ” Joe took a step forward, a placating hand stretched out in front of him as if it could do something to mollify the anxiety twisting Jared in two.

“Sit!” Jared shouted, his own voice something he didn’t recognize.

Joe nodded slowly and shuffled over to the kitchen chair with his hands held up in surrender. He sat down, eyeing Jared with the pity he hated. The man’s movements were deliberate as he clasped his hands on his lap. “You don’t have to do this, Jared.”

But he did. He had to, even though involving someone else was never supposed to be a part of it. Jared hated scaring this man who’d only ever been kind to him. He’d just been left without a choice.

Keeping the gun pointed in Joe’s direction, Jared frantically ransacked the drawers in the kitchen, leaving them hanging wide open when he didn’t find what he was looking for. He groaned in relief when he finally did. The large drawer was crammed full of junk, pens and coupons and random crap. And a small twine of rope.

Jared crossed to the man and edged behind the chair. “Give me your hands.”

Joe hesitated.

“Do it!” Jared yelled, nudging him in the side with the barrel of the gun.

The old man gave in and dropped his arms to his sides. Jared crouched down low and balanced the gun on his thighs. His breaths came all shallow and severe as he began to wrap the rope around Joe’s wrists, securing them tight at the base of the chair.

“Jared, please don’t do this,” he begged.

Sweat beaded on Jared’s upper lip. He swiped the back of his hand over it. He blinked hard, trying to clear the fog clouding his mind. He cinched the rope and Joe yelped.

Shit.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Jared promised through his agony, fucking hating every second of what he was doing. But there was nothing else he could do.

Jared loosened the binding so at least it wouldn’t rub.

“You know that’s not what I’m concerned about,” Joe said.

Humorless laughter freed itself from Jared’s blackened spirit, from the deepest recess where his corruption lay. “You don’t need to worry about me, old man. I’m going exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

Standing, Jared dug the car keys from Joe’s pocket and fled into the garage. He smacked his palm against the garage door opener. The door slowly lifted just as Jared slid into the driver’s seat of the oversized four-door sedan. He tossed his backpack to the passenger’s seat and tucked the gun underneath it.

Nausea slammed him the second he was behind the wheel. His hands were shaking uncontrollably as he floundered with the keys. Finally he managed to slip the key into the ignition. He turned it over, threw it in reverse, and gunned the accelerator. He backed out onto the street, shifted into gear. The car swerved as he rammed on the gas.

He just had to get out of this neighborhood. Away from the memories. Away from everything that mattered.

He didn’t want to do this here.

But those memories chased him, tormented him as he aimlessly roamed the streets. Where the fuck was he supposed to go? Scrubbing his hand over his face, Jared tried to wake himself up, to focus, to see through the permanent daze that had taken him hostage.

For hours he drove as the anxiety ratcheted high, lifted, and spun. Paranoia was setting in. Soon they’d come looking for him, and he had to get this done. His eyes traveled the streets, searching for a place to hide, but nothing felt right. A choked cry locked in his throat when he realized he was circling back around to the neighborhood. Fucking drawn. Hysterical laughter rocketed from his mouth. Was this some kind of cruel, sick joke?

He avoided the intersection because he just couldn’t go there. He made a U-turn and then a quick right onto the street bordering the neighborhood. Jared cut left across the street. The car bounced and jerked as he forced it up over the curb, the tires spinning until they found traction on the dirt. The field was vacant, dark. Tall grasses grew up through the middle. The headlights sliced over the field, illuminating the place that had always meant so much to him, where he’d spent his days playing back when he was a child, when things were good and joy wasn’t a vague impression of the past.

He’d loved it here. Now he’d destroy it, like he destroyed everything.

Out in the middle of the field, he killed the engine. It ticked and the fan hummed. Jared flipped off the headlights.

For a few minutes – or maybe hours – he sat in the dark, shaking, rocking.

Thrashing through the anxiety, he groped for the overhead light. A faint glow crept into the car. He just needed one hit and then he could do this. Jared dug in his bag, drained half the bottle of whiskey to get him to the place where he could get up the nerve, swallowed down five pills when that wasn’t enough.

He hated this. Hated it.

The spoon and the needle and the bag.

But it was all he had.

He found his lighter and balled up the tiny piece of cotton between his fingers. Jared swam. His head was spinning, his mind reeling. And everything was so heavy and so light. Warm.

Jared sagged against the seat, limp, and for a few seconds, he let it go.

But it never lasted long, and he was just so tired… but his mind wouldn’t stop working. He could hear his mom crying, fucking begging in the bowels of his brain.

He grabbed the gun from under his bag and rammed it in his mouth. His teeth scraped metal, the sound grinding in his ears and grating through his bones. Sweat coated his forehead, slipped down the back of his neck.

I can do this.

His finger trembled on the trigger.

It hurt. It hurt. And he was so scared.

Jared jerked the gun from his mouth and slammed his head back on the headrest. “Fuck,” he cried.

He lifted it to his temple, forcing his finger back on the trigger. He squeezed his eyes shut, begging for her. “Mom… I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry.” His hand was shaking. Shaking.

Jared couldn’t fucking stop shaking.

Another handful of pills, the rest of the bottle – numbness and fire and helplessness – it sloshed on his shirt as he drained the last.

He could do this.

But he wanted to see her face one more time.

Numbness weighed him down as he rooted through his bag. He swayed to the left. Shit. Maybe he’d taken too much. But it was okay… it was okay… he could do it. He could do it for her.

He finally found his book in his backpack. Words filled the entirety of the worn journal, his hate and his shame. Snapshots of a perfect life were stowed between the vile pages. He thumbed through to the front, where he kept her picture and lifted it to find the tenderness glowing on her face.

He’d never see her again.

Lifting his lighter, he flicked it and watched as the picture caught fire. She melted before him, disappeared, just like she’d done when he stole her life.

He was just so fucking tired. Tired of it all. Sleep flitted at the edges of his consciousness. He rammed his forehead on the steering wheel, palming the butt of the gun.

He could do this.

First, he wanted to watch it burn. He set the gun on his lap, flicked his lighter, and let the flame leap and dance along the bottom of the journal. He held it in his hand, felt the heat on his face. Felt nothing. Felt it all.

Flames engulfed the cab and he was drowning.

Falling.

Suffocating.

The bullet wasn’t necessary after all.

He whispered, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

Maybe now he’d make it right.

Someone was screaming, the voice piercing through his surrender. Jared just wanted to sleep. Hands searched the fire. Dragging. Pulling. Begging.

Air.

Fists pounded on his chest.

Everything burned, his lungs and his skin.

Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. I love you. Jared, stay. Please. Stay.

Vomit pooled and gushed from his mouth.

The voice pled, promising him that it would be okay.

Sirens blared and she was gone.

Blackness closed in.

And Jared knew it would never be.

TWENTY-SIX

Jared

Oh, shit.

I hunched over, gripping my stomach. I tripped over the emotion cutting me thin. Realization slammed into me, spinning as this comfort and confusion and inundating warmth. I was pretty sure my heart would beat right out of my chest.

It was her.

I lifted my face to the cool night sky as the memory that had been locked up somewhere in my mind burst free.

It was her.

The world spun as my reality shifted. For years, I’d cursed this fate, hating the life sentence I’d been given. I’d always thought I’d lived as a punishment. An upheaval of questions pitched through my brain, all these voices shouting at me, because I was no longer sure surviving that night had been a penalty.

Nothing made any sense… except that it was her.

Aly.

I sprinted back across the lot and jumped the fence. Three seconds later, I had my bike on the street.

Hours had passed, time lost in the period that my truth was found. Night had grown deep, and the traffic had long since cleared. I raced because I couldn’t fucking stand the distance I’d wedged between us.

I was done hurting her.

When I’d woken up in the hospital all those years ago, I was so pissed off knowing I had failed. The nurse had told me I was lucky that I somehow got out of that car when I did. I hadn’t been lucky. I’d known then that fate had intervened. But not in the way I ever imagined.

It was her.

I flew down the streets, my nerves ratcheting higher with every mile I put under me. When I finally got to the complex, it was quiet as I eased my bike through the gate and parked in the spot that I somehow thought of as my own. I bounded up the stairs and produced the key Christopher had trusted me with so many months ago. Fumbling, I slipped it into the lock. I didn’t bother to knock. One way or another, I had to get to her.

For a fleeting second, I wondered what Christopher would do if we came face-to-face on the other side. Dude would probably kill me if he found me showing my face back around here. I’d take it as it came because hiding was no longer an option.

I burst into the darkened, silent apartment. Christopher’s door sat wide open, like it’d been so many times before. Undoubtedly, the guy was on the prowl.

Aly’d been left alone, again.

Frustrated air puffed from my nose. I didn’t want her to be alone anymore.

Light seeped from beneath her door. I paused in front of it, fucking shaking, because the truth was, I was scared. I was so good at destroying, but clueless when it came to mending the disaster I’d left in my wake. I rapped one knuckle on her door, my heart beating all rough when I placed my hand on the knob. I didn’t wait for an answer. I turned it and let it slowly swing open.

And I just stood there in the doorway, staring at the girl staring back at me. Faint light crept up the walls from the lamp on her dressing table. Her head was cocked up in shock as she sat on the edge of her bed facing out, sitting cross-legged with a large sketch pad balanced on her lap.

Affection rushed through me and I was fisting my hands, trying to keep this insanity under control. Defining Aly had always been impossible. Sexy as all hell, innocent and sweet, keen and unbelievably naive.

This girl was my perfection. Months ago, that’d been my first thought when I looked up from the couch to find her standing there. Never before had someone had such a physical effect on me. I mean, damn, it’d felt just like I’d been struck. I should have known then she hadn’t just impacted me with a shot of lust. The desire and need she’d driven me half-mad with had been so much greater than that.

It’d been truth.

Was I scared of everything my returning stood for?

Yeah.

Because this was real.

Not some fucked-up fantasy like I’d convinced myself to believe.

Slowly Aly slid the pad from her lap and onto the bed. She blinked, green eyes acute as she watched me with uncertainty. “Jared.”

With the sound of my name on her lips, I broke. In two long strides, I crossed the room and dropped to my knees in front of her.

I was giving in. I was ready for her.

A soundless gasp parted her mouth when I took her face in my hands. Her knees jutted out just over the bed, digging into my sides like a reluctant embrace. Her hair tumbled down my arms in a wave that I wanted to get lost in as I looked up at her. I ran my thumbs under her eyes, capturing the tears that fell.

I struggled to pull a breath into the well of my lungs, and my tongue darted out to wet my lips. I tilted my head to the side, caught in her unwavering gaze. Devotion poured from her. Even after all the shit I’d put her through.

“You saved me,” I whispered, drawing her left hand to my mouth. I kissed along the scar where my life had made its mark. I ran my nose along it, then pressed my face into her palm because I just needed to feel.

God, I needed to feel.

It was warmth and good and the girl. And fuck… if it wasn’t everything.

Aly started trembling as awareness took hold. Slowly she unwound her legs, and I moved back a fraction so she could drape them along my sides.

“How did you know?” I asked.

I felt her pulse accelerate, and she hesitated. “Jared… I… ” She blinked through something that looked like fear.

“Baby, talk to me,” I softly prodded.

She released a weighted breath and slipped both her hands over the tops of mine, which were rested on her thighs. I squeezed her in reassurance. “I never told anyone about that night… maybe because it’d impacted me too much, I don’t know. I mean, I’d tried to tell my mom, but I guess I was just scared.” She kind of shrugged. “That whole week after you got expelled from school, I’d been… ” She frowned. “… unsettled. Everything was so messed up. Your family was wrecked and mine was coming apart at the hinges. I felt like I was losing every single person I cared about.”

I went rigid. I destroy everything I touch.

In silent encouragement, Aly reached out and smoothed her thumb up the line that dented my brow, like she knew exactly what I was thinking, like she knew me. She didn’t stop talking as she did. “There was this knot building in my gut.” She shivered. “I kept getting this overwhelming feeling that something really bad was going to happen. That night, I couldn’t sleep. Mom had finally made me turn off my light a little after eleven since I had school in the morning, but I had a little flashlight that I used so I could draw at night.”

Aly drew back and inclined her chin to where her sketch pad sat wide open at her side. She traced her fingers along the lines she’d forged on the page.

My heart stuttered with the image looking back at me.

The drawing was beautiful, just like the girl, only because it’d been rendered by her hand. But it was my face on the page, all hard planes and angles, my arms and chest exposed, her own interpretation of my sins swirled and shaded across my skin. And my eyes… she recognized so much in me that I couldn’t see.

“People, Jared… that’s what I keep in my books. Only the ones I love.” She ran her thumb from the bottom page of the pad to the top, lifting them one by one to expose them, image after image of me.

Again I was reeling, because, fuck, it was just overwhelming. This girl who had leveled my walls, the only one who’d understood, the one who saw right though all my bullshit, had always seen me.

She turned back to me, her voice softening with caution. “After your mom died, I couldn’t draw her anymore. It was like there was this block that wouldn’t let me see. It broke my heart because I wanted to remember her. I guess I thought it would somehow keep her alive, but it wouldn’t come… until that night.” Aly drew in a shaky breath. “But it was all wrong, Jared. I could feel it. It was like I was compelled to draw her face, but she was crying out, and I knew she was crying for you. And I kept drawing and drawing and the same thing kept coming out until I’d worked myself into a complete panic. I had to check to make sure you were okay. I snuck out and ran across to your house. You were supposed to be grounded, so I figured I’d just peek in your window to check on you. But I found it open, and your room was empty.”

Aly squinted, as if she were back in that moment. “God… this fear overtook me.” She focused back on me. “Right then, I knew something was wrong. I snuck back in my room, but I couldn’t sit still. I ended up grabbing my sketch pad and thinking I’d go draw in the fort. As soon as I wedged myself through the hole in the fence, I saw Mr. Ramirez’s car. I knew it was you. I just started running. I had no idea what was happening, but I knew I had to get to you. I didn’t even stop to think before I tore the door open. And there were flames.” Aly sucked in her trembling lip. “You weren’t moving. I thought you were dead, Jared, and nothing had ever hurt me as much as that. I was screaming at you to wake up, and I dragged you out. Then that gun dropped out onto the ground with you… and all that stuff that’d been on your lap.” The words were hoarse, like she didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“And I knew… ” She cupped my face. “I knew how broken you were and it broke me, too. I pounded on your chest because I didn’t know what else to do. You started throwing up, and that was when I heard a cop car stop on the street and shine its light into the field. It turned out they were already looking for you. I was a coward, Jared… . I ran because I was scared and I didn’t know how to process what I saw. I hid in the dark in the back of the field, watching them work over you… watched them take you away. I’m so sorry I left you there. I’ll always regret that.”

“You’re sorry? Fuck, Aly… I’m sorry.” And fucking thankful. I had realized that on that deserted road in Vegas. “You saved me. You lived with that while I wasn’t living at all.”

“All these months I wanted to tell you, but I was scared it would drive you away. Once you came back, I saw how much you resented the fact that you lived.” She dropped her gaze and wrung her fingers. “I tried so hard to keep you, but I lost you anyway.”

I edged up closer to her and held her by the jaw, my voice cracking. “I’m here. Baby, I’m here.”

Aly grimaced a smile, holding on to my wrists like she was clinging to life. “It was always you, Jared. Always. I can’t remember a day in my life when I didn’t love you.”

I tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, then slid my palms down to cup her neck.

A faint blush seeped across her cheeks, and she dropped her face and chewed on her lip. “You were my first crush.” She sobered, her voice strained as sincere green eyes slanted up to me. “And my only love.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, almost painfully. “I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

Her words penetrated my blackened soul. And I fucking got it, this innocent girl who I’d taken.

She’d always been mine.

I inclined my head up to capture her attention, to make sure she understood. “I’m so fucked-up, Aly, and I’m always going be. I warned you that you can’t fix me, and you can’t. I’m never going to outlive or outrun this shit.”

All that I had left were pieces, and even those were broken. But those pieces belonged to her, and just maybe we could find a way to make a life from them.

“I wasn’t lying when I said you make me better. You make me want to be better. Truth is, I can’t outrun you, either, Aly. I can’t be without you anymore. The last three months I spent without you have been the darkest I’ve ever had.”

Slowly I ran my hands down the delicate skin of her shoulders. Goose bumps lifted in their wake. I trailed them all the way down, squeezing her hands, then brought my palms to rest flat on her stomach. My throat tightened and I forced down my fear.

“But I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been going through without me here.”

Aly closed her eyes, tears slipping free. “I needed you.”

“It makes me sick that I left you.” Emotion pulsed in my chest, in the deepest places of my spirit, a tumble of confusion and apprehension of what I’d never thought should be vying to be freed. “I’m terrified of this, Aly. I don’t know how to do this.”

Hopeful, subdued laughter fell softly from her mouth. Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip as she dropped her gaze to my hands, and she traced her fingers over the numbers marring my knuckles. “Do you think I’m not? I have no idea how to do this, either. But I know I want to do it with you.”

Sliding my hands up the outside of her thighs to her hips, I tugged her to the edge of the bed, because I needed her near. I brought her flush, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. Those little sleep shorts pressed into my stomach, and I dug my fingers into the supple flesh.

“Aly,” I mumbled through a groan, my face buried in her chest. I raised my head to place a gentle kiss under her jaw, breathing her in, the life and the good. “I missed you.” I ached. It’d been too long since I was lost in her, too long without her touch.

Soft fingers played in my hair, traveled down to my neck and back up again. Chills crawled down my spine. Need coiled and spun with adoration. Fuck, I was in so deep. But now I knew it was the only place I wanted to be.

Easing off the floor, I climbed onto the bed, dragging her up to the middle of it with me. Aly clung to me, legs and arms and body and soul. She ran her nose along the sensitive skin behind my ear. “I missed you,” she murmured, “so much.”

I laid her down and sat back to take her in, my hands gripping her knees. Those long legs were bent, her back bowed. Her hair was all a mess, billowing out around that face that had become the only thing I could see.

“You are so beautiful, Aly.”

Perfect.

I raked a hand through my hair in an attempt to get myself under control because I was dying to consume her. Maybe the way she consumed me.

Wholly.

I forced myself to go slow as I crawled between her legs, propping myself on my hands and knees. I looked directly down on the girl.

Aly’s mouth parted.

Holding myself suspended with one hand, I held one side of her face, my thumb caressing along her flushed skin. “What do you see in me?”

For a moment she just looked at me, intensity pouring from her, before she drew me down to bring us chest to chest. Her breath came as a whisper across my ear. “I see beauty and pain. Joy and sorrow. I see the good and I see the bad… and I love it all.”

I sucked in a rattled breath.

I dipped down and covered her mouth with mine. Months of pent-up desire rushed from my chest and pooled in my stomach. Twisted in the tightest knot. Her tongue was all tentative, soft and slow, tangling with mine as she whispered out these little words that I felt rather than heard, utterings of love and fear that came straight from her heart. I sucked her top lip into my mouth, turned to the bottom, dove in again. And I was singed. Burned.

Hers.

Without breaking our kiss, I found the hem of her shirt with my hands. I slowly inched it up, my palms flat as they traveled her curves. I pulled back enough to lift it over her head.

A pensive smile curved her mouth as Aly tugged my shirt free. Hungry eyes roamed over me, as if she’d missed every inch of my body as much as I missed hers.

Aly lost her breath when she found the mark covering my heart. Fingertips flitted over my skin. She tipped her chin up to me, her voice rough. “Is this me?”