Текст книги "Back To Back"

Автор книги: Chelsea M. Cameron

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

“I don’t know,” I say, lying through my teeth.

 

Six

 

I can’t tell if he believes me or not, but he walks backward, taking me with him as we make our way to the couch. We’re lucky neither of us trips over our discarded clothing.

He sets me down on the couch and then goes to grab his pants, sliding them on without his boxer briefs before grabbing my clothes and handing them to me. I take them and go to the bathroom to clean myself up before I get dressed again.

I put my panties, jeans and shirt on, but leave the bra off.

He sits down next to me again, and props his elbows on his knees as he leans forward. I mirror his stance.

“What are you thinking about?” He’s in one of his deep silences. The kind that means he’s far away and it’ll be a job to bring him back to me.

He turns his head slowly.

“I don’t know what to do with you, Saige. I really don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, but I have no idea why I’m apologizing.

He lets out a long breath.

“But I can’t seem to get you out of my head. I think about you all the time. You drive me crazy.” Then he knows the feeling.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he says again, shaking his head.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” I say and he finally cracks a smile.

I lean over and bump his shoulder with mine. He does the same and soon we’re attacking each other in a different way. Sylas is tickling me into submission.

“Stop! Sylas, stop!” I say, laughing so hard I can’t breathe.

“Never,” he says, somehow finding my very worst spots right under my ribs and on the bottoms of my feet. He lets up when I’m completely out of breath.

“I missed you,” he says.

“You saw me yesterday,” I say.

“I know. It doesn’t mean I can’t miss you.”

“You’re right,” I say. He lowers his body onto mine. I can’t help but smile up at him. It’s impossible not to smile when he’s like this. Sylas can be dark sometimes, and I love that, but when he’s fun and playful is just as addictive. Maybe it’s just… Sylas.

“I really missed you, Saige,” he says, brushing my hair back from my face.

Even though we just fucked up against the door, he takes me again, slowly this time. I don’t bother asking about the condom. It’s sort of a moot point now. I have an IUD and I know he gets tested regularly. I know because I’ve seen his medical records. One of the perks of being my father’s daughter.

He goes so slow that I feel each and every inch of him as he penetrates me. This is also a statement. That he wants me, and not just for sex. Because this isn’t fucking. It’s so much more than a penis entering a vagina. So much more than two people sweating together and sharing a moment.

I love him so much that it makes me want to cry again.

I climax again and throw my head back. Just as he follows me he dips his head to my neck and growls something. I think he said “I love you” but I’m not sure.

I’m not really sure about anything anymore.

Sylas doesn’t stay the night with me. A strange silence settles over us after we finish the second time and I know that this time he’s too far-gone in his head for me to bring back.

“I’m going to go,” he says after he gets completely dressed again. I’m still lying naked on the couch. I’m also mourning the loss of his nudity. I wish I could keep a naked version of him in my closet and pull him out to just to stare at whenever I want.

“Okay,” I say, not getting up. I’m satiated and boneless, but empty at the same time.

He looks down at me as if he’s not sure how exactly to proceed. A kiss? A hug? A pat on the head?

He finally decides on just a nod and then he’s out the door.

I lay there on the couch for a while as my body cools from his touch. I know I’ve got bruises and marks and he definitely does. We can’t seem to be together without leaving something behind on the other person.

I finally get up and take a shower, even though I don’t want to. I like having the smell of him on my skin.

My tattoo burns in the hot water, but I don’t care. I should have asked Sylas to rub some lotion on it, since it’s nearly impossible for me to reach the area myself.

It’s early still, but I need to sleep. I crawl into bed straight from my shower, naked and wet. I roll myself in the blankets and try to think about anything but Sylas and how in the hell he’s ever going to trust me.

I’m back to my regular routine the next day. Well, as regular as my routine ever is. While I’ve been working on Sylas, my time has been spent in school and basically waiting around on him. Popping into his “work” for lunch, texting him, following his movements. It’s been a nice break from working for Dad. He’d have me do everything from surveillance to hacking to a little B and E. It took me a while to figure out that other little girls didn’t practice safe cracking with their daddies on the weekends.

I never told anyone. Even though I wanted to blab to my classmates and friends what cool and secret things I could do, I never told because I knew how important it was. My mother never knew. Still doesn’t. Dad and I cover for each other and I’m pretty sure if she walked in on us hacking into someone’s computer, she’d just look the other way.

But now a lot of my work is done with Sylas and I can throw my focus back into school. I really do want to work with art. That wasn’t a lie. It took me a while to actually tell Dad that was what I wanted to pursue. It didn’t go over very well at first. Of course he wants me to take up his mantle or cape, or whatever, and carry on his legacy.

But I don’t want to.

Realizing I’m going to be late if I don’t get my shit together, I throw on some clothes, grab my bag and dash down the stairs. At least for the next few hours all I have to think about is cubism, forced perspective and shading.

I don’t hear a word from Sylas the rest of the week. I think he’s trying to process everything and I can’t say I blame him. My tattoo starts to peel and itch and I wish he were here to help me put lotion on it, but I can’t bring myself to call or text him. The ball is in his court now. I’m his if he wants me. Me and my honesty.

I would love to be honest with him. More than anything. But my secrets don’t just belong to me. They belong to Dad, and they’re not mine to share. Not mine to give.

My anticipation for seeing Lizzy ramps up over the week and by Friday night I’m so nervous I can barely sleep. I know I’ve met her before, but this time I will really be spending time with her as my sister. My half-sister, but still. The only sister I have. The only sister I’ll ever have.

I’m ready hours early and sitting on the couch, my knees twitching as I wait for Sylas.

Finally, about five minutes before nine, he sends me a text message saying that he’s downstairs. I bolt down the stairs and slow enough that I don’t look like I’m rushing. I don’t want him to know how much this means to me.

Yet again, he doesn’t open the door for me. I know my cheeks are flushed and I’m breathing a little heavily.

“Hey,” I say, not looking at him.

“Hey. You ready to go?” he asks, like I haven’t been ready forever.

“Yeah,” I say. I watch him nod out of the corner of my eye and then he’s pulling away from the curb and we’re on our way.

In silence.

I’m going to see my sister.

“It’s going to take us a while to get there,” he says a few minutes later. “I needed to keep her close, but not too close.” I nod and stare out the window. I wonder if he’s regretting what happened earlier in the week. The talk and the sex and the agreement to try and move things forward. We haven’t spoken about it since; almost like it didn’t happen.

I can’t stand the silence, so I reach over and turn on the radio, flipping to the classic rock station. Words dance behind my lips, begging to come out.

Sylas coughs and looks over at me. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it. I guess I’ll get the conversational ball rolling.

“I thought I was going to hear from you this week,” I say. I want to ask him what he’s been doing with himself, but I don’t really have a valid claim on that information. Not anymore.

“Well, my plan to move was changed, so I had to regroup.” Meaning his team also had to regroup. I assume they’ve all come back and he’s told them what happened with me and Dad and everything. I wonder if he’s told them about Lizzy.

“And?” I ask, prompting him for more.

“And nothing. I’m here. I’m not leaving.” He seems pissed.

“Are you mad at me?”

A laugh that’s part-bark escapes his mouth.

“Why would I be mad at you, Saige?” The bitter edge in his voice is back. Great.

“Look, you don’t have to be an asshole. This isn’t fun for me either.”

His hands tighten on the steering wheel and I start fiddling with my septum ring.

“I’m never going to forgive you for what you did,” he says, and the words hit me. Hard.

“I know,” I say.

More silence. It’s never been so hard to talk to him. I decide to change tactics.

“What happened to her? To Lizzy?” I say. I expect him to get mad, but he doesn’t. His shoulders relax just a tiny bit. I’ve found a safer topic, it appears.

“She was born that way. She just thinks differently from other people. And she’ll never really be able to live on her own. It takes her much longer to learn things, so it’s just not safe. But she’s happy where she is. I made sure it was a good facility and they take good care of her. She has friends and does activities and they take her to the aquarium and to movies. I wish I could see her more than I get to.” He’s been her only caretaker for years and I totally understand that he’d want to protect her.

“I didn’t know. About her. Not until he told me,” I say, answering his unasked question.

“When did he tell you?” he asks, his voice flat. I know he wants to know.

“Just a few weeks ago. I… I didn’t know what to say. I was pissed at first. That he never told me I had a sister. I lived my whole life without knowing about her.” I was pissed when he told me. Seriously pissed. I got upset and “threw a tantrum” as my mother would say. Really it was just me yelling a lot and breaking a few things. I wish I could blame my temper on my hair, but it’s not wholly responsible for my actions.

“I know you’re not happy about me being here, but I really appreciate you letting me come.” I touch his hand where it rests on the shifter. He doesn’t flinch and I move my hand so it’s lying on top of his. My nails are covered in chipping black polish. Normally I take more care with my nails, but I’ve been a little distracted lately.

“Were you ever a college student?” he asks and I’m surprised it’s taken him this long to ask. “You promised to be honest with me.”

I squeeze his hand just a little.

“Yes, I am a college student studying art history. And yes, my father isn’t that happy about it. I work with him when I can. More now that I’m not—” I cut myself off.

“Conning me,” he finishes for me. I nod.

“I wish there was a Hallmark card I could give you, but I don’t think there’s one for this particular situation,” I say, trying to make a joke. He doesn’t even crack a smile.

“I don’t need a card. I just need… I don’t know. Time. Space. Room to think.” Away from me, I assume.

“Sure,” I say.

The rest of the trip is relatively silent. We’re both busy with thinking our separate thoughts. But I keep my hand on his the whole time.

Seven

He parks in front of the Center and I get out tentatively. It has the feel of a small apartment complex and there are pretty flowers in large pots lining the walkway and lots of bright art hung in the windows.

It looks nice here. Not what I would have thought, but he did tell me that this was a good place.

We both have to check in at the front desk. Sylas must have called them and added my name to the list of visitors because they knew I was coming with him. We’re both handed the requisite visitor badges and affix them to our shirts.

“You were right, it is really nice here,” I say as we walk past one of the activity rooms where some of the residents are standing at easels and painting with large brushes and tubs of bright, bold paint. There’s a nice energy in here and everything is bright and fun and colorful.

“Her room is this way,” he says, leading me down the hall.

Lizzy’s door is partially open, but he knocks before we go in. I take a deep breath and then there she is. The minute she sees Sylas, she beams, but when she sees me standing behind him, she squeals and then I’m engulfed in a hug. Lizzy is taller than me, and I nearly lose my breath.

“New sister,” she says in my ear as we rock back and forth. “New sister.”

“It’s nice to see you again,” I try to say, but my voice is muffled against Lizzy’s chest. I can’t see Sylas to know what his reaction is.

“Hey, Lizzy, how about you let your new sister breathe, okay?” Lizzy lets go, but grabs my hand and then Sylas’ and hauls us both into the room. She’s a wiry thing, but she’s stronger than she looks.

Sylas and I almost crash into each other so we don’t lose our balance.

“Whoa, be careful, Lizzy,” he says, but she just keeps dragging us across the room to her bed.

“Sit,” she commands me and I look at Sylas warily.

“What are you up to, Sister?” he asks as I sit on the bed. Sylas sits next to me and he’s definitely a little on edge.

Lizzy sighs as if we’re being dumb on purpose.

“I want to give you your presents.” The “duh” is left unsaid.

“Presents?” I ask.

Lizzy skips over to her dresser and pulls open the top drawer, fiddles around under her socks and then comes out with two items wrapped in tissue paper.

I take the one wrapped in red and Sylas takes the one wrapped in blue.

“Should we open them?” I ask.

“Uh-huh,” she says, and she’s so excited, she’s bouncing on her heels. I share one more look with Sylas and then we both open our presents. I have no idea what this could be. I just didn’t expect this. I feel like a jerk for not bringing her something. I should have brought her something.

“Oh,” I say when I get the paper off. A hand-painted picture frame is revealed, with a drawing in it that is clearly of me. She got the red hair and the green eyes perfect. Sylas’ is also a drawing, but of him this time. He’s smiling bigger than he probably ever has in his life, but other than that, it’s definitely him. She even got some of the tattoos on his arm.

Sylas looks up at Lizzy and gives her a hug. I’m not sure what to do. I feel like an intruder, which was my worst fear when I agreed to come.

“Thank you so much, Lizzy. It’s beautiful. I’m going to put it right on the wall in my new apartment.” He kisses her forehead and she hugs him hard.

“Love you, Brother.”

“Love you, Sister.”

“I’ll eat you up, I love you so,” she says to him and I have to look down to hide the tears in my eyes. They just love each other so much. I run my finger around the edge of the frame and wonder just how I got here, to this point in my life. All the twists and turns that somehow brought me to this room with a half-sister I never knew existed and in love with her brother.

“Are you okay?” Sylas asks, and I look up.

“Yeah,” I say, using one hand to brush the tears off my face. “Thank you, Lizzy. Thank you.”

Lizzy doesn’t say anything, just sits next to me on the bed and holds my face. It’s very intense, but I don’t move. I stare into her wide blue eyes and find so much in them. Her thumbs brush away my tears and then she leans forward, putting her forehead against mine.

“You’re welcome, my new sister.” I’m completely and utterly stunned.

“I always wanted a sister,” I whisper.

“Me too,” Lizzy says and then she smiles. I can’t help but smile with her and then we start laughing, our voices mingling together and sounding eerily similar.

Lizzy takes me on a tour of the Center, and won’t let go of my arm as she introduces me to everyone. She’s so happy and it’s infectious. My apprehension is gone and I don’t remember the last time I felt this light. Sylas walks behind us, giving us space, but I can feel him watching the two of us. I want to ask him what he thinks, what’s going on in his head, but we have the whole drive back for that. Right now I’m all about my new sister.

It turns out we love a lot of the same books. Sylas even bought her a bunch of the Harry Potter books after I told him to read them. The gesture makes me smile. I can’t seem to stop smiling. My cheeks hurt.

Lizzy doesn’t ask about “the man” as she calls our dad, but she is wearing the charm bracelet he sent her. I’ve got mine on and they clink together as we hold hands.

By the time we need to leave, I’ve promised to video chat with her at least once a week, and I’ve promised to come back next week and every week after that, forever. It’s impossible to say no to Lizzy.

“Sisters forever,” Lizzy says as she gives me a hug goodbye.

“Sisters forever,” I repeat.

The minute the car door shuts and Sylas starts driving, I break down. Just absolutely lose it. The sobs overtake my body and I’m making this awful sound. Sylas slows the car and pulls over to the side of the road.

And then his arms are around me and he’s whispering nonsense in my ear and all I want is for him to hold me like this forever. His arms are warm and strong around me and I hold onto him so I don’t fly away.

I don’t even know why I’m crying.

Finally my shaking subsides and I can breathe normally. Peeling my head off his tear-soaked chest, I look up into his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks, smoothing my hair back. I must be an absolute mess.

I can’t seem to find any words to say but two.

“Kiss me.”

His jaw tightens and he seems to think it over before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine.

His taste mingles with the salt from my tears and I hold onto his face, desperate. I’m just so scared of losing him. Of him leaving my life.

Little sounds of desperation escape my mouth as we kiss, but he’s holding back. Keeping himself safe. I don’t blame him, but oh, I want him. I want him the way we used to be. Before we both fucked everything up. I guess we were really fucked up to begin with. We never would have met if it weren’t for Lizzy. Who knew something like this would come out of one night of my father and their mother.

I bite onto his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, but he doesn’t break the kiss. The coppery taste is heavy on my tongue and I pull back.

I want to tell him I love him. Tell him that it wasn’t a lie when I said it. Tell him that I wish I could take it all back. Hit Rewind and erase all the lies and the deceptions.

“Thank you for bringing me,” I say instead as a tiny drop of blood wells on his bottom lip. He licks it away and lets me go.

“You’re welcome.”

The ride back is entirely silent, except for the radio. Sylas can’t seem to choose a station and it’s annoying. I want to reach out and stop his hand from pushing buttons and turning the dial and messing with the bass and volume.

He only stops doing it when we pull up in front of my apartment.

“Thank you again,” I say. Things are so awkward between us and I hate it. I could kiss him again, but that’s not going to solve anything. We could fuck each other over and over and it wouldn’t solve anything. It’s going to take more than our physical chemistry to get us past this point and talking again.

“Do you want to come in?” I ask, hating the way my voice sounds. Tentative and a little whiny. I hate feeling this way with him. I want to be confident and in-control again.

He starts to shake his head, but then turns and looks at me. His bottom lip is still red.

“Just to talk,” he says. “Nothing else.” He’s also a shadow of his former self. The man who said he wanted to fuck me on our first date is gone and I’m left with this stone-faced, quiet person I don’t know how to handle.

“Yeah, sure. Just to talk,” I echo and we both get out.

 

Eight

 

He sits on the couch and I get us both glasses of water. I briefly consider grabbing some alcohol, but that probably isn’t the best idea. If we drink, we’re going to get naked. It’s inevitable.

I hand him the sweating glass and he takes it with a nod.

“I hate this,” I say, shattering the silence. “I hate how we are now. I really hate it.” I pull my knees up and rest my chin on them.

He sets his water glass down on one of my coasters that’s shaped like a red heart and turns to face me.

“I hate it too.”

Good. We’ve agreed on something. That’s a start.

“Do you think it’s possible for us to start over? Go from square one?” I ask, and his mouth tightens into a line.

“I honestly don’t know, Saige. I appreciate you wanting to be honest with me from here on out, but that’s not enough. It’s not enough to undo what we did to each other.” At least he isn’t putting the blame solely in my hands.

“Then what is?” I say, picking up my water. My throat is so dry. I’m also starving. I haven’t eaten all day.

He rubs his eyes with one hand and takes another sip of water.

“That’s another question I can’t answer.”

“So we’re stuck. Like this. Forever,” I say.

He shrugs.

“Don’t you care? I know you at least miss having sex with me.”

“Saige, I…” He can’t seem to finish his thought.

“Even if you don’t want to have sex with me, we’re still connected. We’ll always be connected. By Lizzy.” I hate using this against him, but it’s the only card I have to play.

His eyes narrow at the mention of Lizzy.

“I know you want to protect her, but I’m not here to… get something out of her. As soon as I found out I had a sister, I wanted to get to know her. And Dad has spent forever waiting.” I probably shouldn’t bring him up, but he’s part of this too.

“I don’t trust your father,” he says. Does that mean he trusts me?

“I know. I don’t blame you. But about Lizzy, his motives are pure. Everything he’s done has been for her. Because of her.” I lean toward him and he doesn’t move away.

“I want to believe you, Saige. If you don’t know anything else, know that. That I want to believe you. It’s been just me and Lizzy for so long and to know that she has other family? A new sister she adores? It’s almost a miracle.” I let a breath out and the tightness in my chest lets up. Just a tiny bit. We’re making progress. Little, bitty, tiny steps.

“But I’m not willing to take risks where Lizzy is concerned.” I knew there was a “but” coming.

“I understand. But please, just think about it. For me?” I’m throwing everything I can into this.

He’s still for a long time and then his face softens.

“I’ll try.”

I can’t help but smile.

“That’s all I ask,” I say.

Thinking we should do something not quite so intense, I suggest we watch a movie. I have mounds of homework I should be doing, but I know I’m not going to be able to focus on it right now. My brain has too much else going on.

“How about Rear Window? I’ll watch it without any commentary,” I say, knowing that it’s his favorite Hitchcock film. Vertigo is most definitely better, but I’ll let this slide. Once.

The movie suggestion makes him almost smile. Close enough.

I put it in and go to make popcorn. I make that the way he likes it as well, with not too much butter and a lot of salt.

We sit close to each other on the couch, but the distance between us feels endless. He’s on one side of the Grand Canyon and I’m on the other.

And then, as if we’re in a movie, our hands collide in the popcorn bowl. As if fate engineered it. He pulls back first, but I grab his hand, which is a little slick from the butter.

“Do you believe in fate?” I ask him for the second time. The last time I asked, he told me he did. Something tells me the answer is going to be different this time.

Sylas looks down at our joined hands and then up into my eyes.

“No. No, I don’t.”

I nod and let go of his hand.

“That’s what I thought. I didn’t believe you the first time.” I didn’t believe a whole lot of what he said, but there were moments of pure truth and clarity.

“You didn’t?” He looks away from the movie.

“No. I pretty much assumed everything you said was a lie,” I say and he actually flinches.

“Does that bother you?” I say and he shakes his head.

“No.”

“Liar,” I say.

He sighs and goes back to the movie.

“I didn’t lie to you about everything,” he says, keeping his eyes on the screen.

“I know,” I say. “I didn’t lie to you about everything either.”

I didn’t lie to him all those times I told him that I loved him. When I told him that I didn’t know if I loved him, that was a lie. It’s the one I regret the most.

“There are more things you don’t know,” I say. I know I’m not supposed to talk to him about this, but I can’t hold it back anymore.

“What things?” he asks. It’s like he can’t look at me while he talks to me. I wish he would.

“I’m not supposed to tell you. Dad wants to talk to you.” At the mention of my father, he stiffens.

“About what?” His voice goes hard again.

I take a breath and then figure I’ve come this far now; I might as well keep going.

“He wants you to work for him.” He goes totally still. Not even blinking.

It takes him a long time to move.

“I knew it,” he says in a quiet voice. “I knew he wanted something else from me.”

“It’s not like that. You both have the same goals. To bring down corporate corruption. You’re so much alike.” I didn’t mean to say the last part, but it comes out anyway. His head snaps around.

“I am nothing like him.” He’s furious. I’m actually grateful for some sort of emotion from him. I know he’s been holding himself back for a while.

He gets to his feet and starts to storm toward the door.

“Wait, Sylas!” I race after him and he rips the door open.

“Don’t, Saige. Just don’t.” Pain. Sharp, brilliant, naked pain replaces the anger in his eyes and I freeze. He takes one last look at me and then he’s gone.

I call Dad after Sylas leaves. Mostly to tell him that I blew it. To say he’s not pleased would be an understatement.

“How could you, Saige? All that work for nothing.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.” Dad doesn’t know I love Sylas. I told him I was playing the game and I guess he didn’t know the difference.

Dad sighs and I picture him raking his hand through his hair. Sylas does the same thing sometimes. I wasn’t lying when I said they were alike. They are. In so many ways.

“Well, now I’m going to have to regroup. Figure out how to approach him again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” Dad never stays mad at me for long. “How did your visit go?” I was going to call him anyway and tell him about my day with Lizzy. That’s a much better subject to talk about.

“It was so good. She’s wonderful. I know she’s different, but she’s so smart. She sees the world in such an amazing way. And she didn’t let go of my hand the whole time.” I smile when I remember how hard she held me. Like she was afraid I was going to run away.

Dad coughs and I wonder if he’s crying.

“That’s great, Saige. It really is. I used to think about the two of you together and what it would look like.” We should have taken a picture. I didn’t even think of it at the time.

“She drew a picture of me,” I say as I take out the frame that I carefully wrapped up before putting it in my purse. “It’s really good. She got my hair and everything.” I pop the stand out from the back of the frame and set it on top of one of the tables in my living room. It somehow fits right in with my other décor and that makes me smile.

Sylas might not believe in fate, but I do.

Dad and I talk about other things and he says that he’s going to contact Sylas and set up a meeting. As much as Dad wants Sylas, he also wants the rest of his team. The ragtag group of Robin Hoods that have somehow managed to elude capture by their adversaries or police for several years.

I haven’t met them, but I’ve seen them all when I’ve been on surveillance.

One other thing I haven’t told Sylas is that I was the one who sent him the messages. One of Dad’s minions did the hacking, but I did the message sending because Dad didn’t trust someone else to. Dad was the one who took the pictures he also sent to Sylas.

It was fun. At first. Sylas was always on edge and stressed when he’d get one. I could read it all over him. And then I started hating it because it was just one more way I was lying to him.

There were other things I did and I’m not proud of it. Not at all. I’ve never thought about the people I’ve lied to in the past. Things were black and white. They were bad people and they were getting what they deserved. Sometimes that still didn’t feel like enough.

But with Sylas… I regret it. I actually regret it. And I don’t want to do it anymore. I’ve spent my whole life learning to be my father’s protégé and now I want to throw it away. I want to live a real life. A life not filled with lies and deception and pretending to be someone I’m not.

Not that I was pretending with Sylas. Deception has always been easy for me, but with him, it was difficult for the first time. Sylas challenged me. He made me feel things I hadn’t felt before. I had it all planned out, but then he started talking to me and I just found myself saying what I would normally say.

Like being with him broke down all my walls and stripped me bare.

I throw myself back into homework and finally get caught up on all the things I’d been putting off.

It’s Saturday night and I’m home in my pajamas. Wild times.

I could call Lo and go out with the gang. She’d asked me to go earlier in the week, but I wasn’t feeling it. Besides, I didn’t know how long we’d be gone to visit Lizzy and there was no way I was going to cut the visit short.

I want to go and see Sylas, but that’s probably a terrible idea. I do send him a text, letting him know, again, that I’m sorry. I don’t know what else I can say to him now. Maybe things with us are beyond repair. I have a wild idea of showing up at his place wearing just a trench coat or something, but that only works in movies.

And then I have a somewhat crazy idea, and run to find some of the information Dad gave me on Sylas and his crew.

The phone rings twice before Cash picks up.

“Hello?” he says, and I know he doesn’t know who’s calling.

“Hi. This is Saige.” He inhales sharply and I wait for him to respond.

“Well hello, Saige. It’s nice to finally speak to you.” His voice is deep and rich, which matches his stature. Cash is one of those fellows who looks like he flips tractor tires with one hand for fun and can rip phonebooks in half. He almost has to walk sideways to get through a standard doorway.