Page 57 of Princess Avenged

Joy rises inside me as Phil strokes forward, doing the breaststroke and keeping his eyes on me as he glides along the lake’s surface.

“How’s the water?” I call out, needing a connection, any connection between us.

“Cold.” He takes a few overhead strokes that propel him quickly forward, until he’s about twenty-five feet from the end of the dock.

Stopping there, he treads water, looking into my eyes.

“Shall I come to you?” I ask. “Or are you getting out.”

“I should leave.” Crusher’s hold loosens.

“No!” Phil shouts. “Keep her on the dock. Stay with her. Please.”

“Phil…”

“My love,” Phil says, his voice drenched in pain. “I can’t be alone with you. Not right now. Not until I get this fucking thing out of my head.” Wincing as if he’s in pain, he punches his temple, and then glides back, his strong legs moving him farther and farther away from me. He stops again. As far away as when he started.

“You’d never hurt me,” I call out.

“That’s why I can’t be near you,” he says. “I would never hurt you, but this thing in my head wants to, so we can’t…” He shakes his head. “Crusher, buddy. Promise me that you’ll keep me away from her. Never let me touch her. Not ever. Never let us be alone.” His tone is desperate, serious, heartbreaking.

My heart stops beating, and I sink into a crouch hugging my knees with my arms. The emotional rollercoaster I’ve been riding has dropped me again, and I feel like I’m dying. To be this close to Phil and not touch him, to not feel his body against mine. To instead have all this distance and water between us. I could dive in and swim quickly toward him, but it would be futile. He’d just swim away and the lake is large, likely deep.

Phil’s not playing games with me. This isn’t him playing hard to get. Staying away from me hurts him as much as it does me.

Reality sinks in. I’ve known about the demon possession for nearly two days now, and even though Phil already told me that we needed to stay apart, deep down I thought that everything would be different once we saw each other. That his love for me would spontaneously expel the demon or strengthen his ability to fight it.

But I heard the pain in his voice, saw the terror in his eyes. I see it now as he treads water, two football fields away from me. Phil is terrified to get any closer.

Rising from my crouch, I stand next to Crusher, who’s glancing between me and Phil like he’s prepared to do anything to keep us separate. But instead of feeling resentment, I’m grateful. Grateful to Crusher for helping Phil feel safe. And if keeping us apart, protecting me, gives Crusher a purpose, that’s a good thing too.

“Can we at least talk?” I call out to Phil. “Will you meet me inside? With all the others?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not safe. You need to trust me.” He grimaces in pain. “I’m gonna swim laps around this island until dawn. Then I’ll sleep out the daylight in a cave that Axe guy showed me.”

My heart pinches. “When will I see you?”

“Can’t make promises. But soon, I hope.”

Chapter

Twenty-Six

Ana

Crusher stays a few steps behind me as we climb the stairs from the lake to the cabin, and my gratitude grows. The tension between us is palpable, and when he was next to me, I could sense Crusher’s muscles twitching as if it was a great effort not to touch me.

I am still attracted to Crusher and know where unnecessary contact might lead. Know where I might have wanted it to lead.

I’m glad he resisted. I will not open myself to Crusher again. He killed Timur and kept it a secret. Kept it a secret even as I gave myself to him, gave him everything, let myself be vulnerable not only physically, but emotionally. I trusted Crusher with so much, while he kept something huge from me.

“These stairs look new,” he says from behind me.

“Yes, they do.” The stairs climb over a rocky surface leading up from the water, and the forest is so thick the branches form a dome above us. But the moonlight and some glimpses of stars still shine through. The air is so fresh up here, not a hint of the machines that took over the world this past century, and I inhale deeply, recalling our family’s trips to the country or seaside in my childhood.

At the top of the stairs, we discover a path made of rocks, and it leads toward a spectacular structure with a large, covered porch stretching across its front. But the word cabin does not begin to describe what I’m looking at, and the sight of it stops me in my tracks.

“Wow.”

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