Page 17 of All Saints: Pledge

I turn and yank it from his hands, suddenlyangrywith him. The years of angst have chosen this moment to boil over. Inopportune, maybe, but I let it happen, suddenly believing in the idea of cathartic purging. “Leave me alone, Kendall, just like you did for years. Go menace someone else. I believe Clara is over there. Why don’t you go fuck with her head some more?”

“At least let me walk you out. Until you find your friends.” I see genuine concern in his eyes as I list to the left despite my efforts to stand up straight. “I don’t think you should be alone.”

Shit, that makes sense. I’m feeling my drinkwaymore than I’d like. I’m not blacking out, so it’s not like someone drugged me or something, but I still don’t trust Kendall and his sudden act of kindness. But. He’s the only person here that Iknow. And I’mdrunk. I should accept the help.

I hiccup. “Okay fine. But only until we find Dominic.”

“Whatever you say.” It should bother me that there’s a flash of triumph on his face, I know it should. Even as I allow him to usher me toward the door, I can’t shake the feeling that beneath the surface of this kinder version of Kendall, the shark still lurks.

9

Idon’t see Dominic anywhere on the packed terrace. Rubbing my eyes, I will the world to stop swaying as I walk. Maybe I need to sit.

“Do you think they went down to the quad?” Kendall’s hand on my elbow sears like a brand as he tucks me into him as if we’ve been doing this for years, and guides me to the stairs. At my noise of acquiescence, he nods. “Let’s go check.”

“Why are you suddenly Mr. Helpful?” I ask, my body abdicating steering to his persuasive power.

He sighs. “I’ve beentryingto help you all along, Helena.”

I laugh like some maniacal cartoon as we clomp down the steps. These heels arenota good choice for nighttime meandering in gardens. “You think that by being an insane asshole, you’re helping me?”

“You don’t understand.” His pull on my elbow is insistent. For the moment I forget everything but the warmth of being tucked into Kendall’s side. My skin thrills at the brush of his suit against my bare arms. The warmth of his hand on my back and elbow. The swish of his long legs in their wool trousers. I noticeevery little thing about him, when I really should try to get away from him.

“Wait, where are we going?” It dawns on me that Kendall has a purpose, and it’s not looking for...who are we looking for again? I think hard for a moment. Clara? Was I looking for Clara? No. I’m looking for Dominic and Li. I shake my muddled head. My eyes wander back to the patio, and I see Clara watching our progress, eyes narrowed.

“Are you here with Clara? She’s watching us. She looks mad.”

He stumbles for a step as he looks over his shoulder. “She’ll be okay. I’ll find her next. After, I mean. After I return you to your friends. Here. Let’s see if we can see them from here.” Now that we’re off the stone stairs, he tucks us in against the wall of the stair, deep in shadow. Another wall.

I peer around comically, as if Li and Dominic are waiting here to pounce on us. “I’ll give the all clear, captain,” I say with a sloppy salute.

He hasn’t let go of my elbow. Under the guise of steadying me, he presses me back until my thighs meet the wall behind me. What is with him?

Cold stone brushes my back, and Kendall’s suit jacket brushes my front. My nipples pebble. It must be the cold night air. I barely stop myself from crossing my arm over them, so I rub my hands up and down my thighs instead, just to give my hands something to do. I’m restless for no discernible reason. I’m like a sensation junkie.

Which is when Kendall and I both realize that he’s stroking his hands up and down my arms in a soothing motion. Gooseflesh breaks out on my torso. Instead of letting me go, his hands slow to a sensual pace, gliding with intent back up to my shoulders.

“Shit, I think I got a little of it.” He takes a deep inhale—is hesmellingme? No. No, likely he’s doing the Kendall thing wherehe’s praying for patience. I’m annoying him with my needy drunkenness and my missing friends.

When he opens his eyes, they’re glittering again. I don’t think he realizes he’s still stroking my arms, because his face is all business. The careful strokes are…so out of character for him, they’re wreaking havoc with my insides. How can one person be such a dichotomy within one body? He clearly hates me. But these glimpses I have of the other Kendall? I’d almost call it…yearning?

“Okay, let’s get this over with before I do something stupid,” he says, like he’s coaching himself.

“Get what over with?” I felt a jolt of concern, causing my body to tense up.Ishe here to steal my kidneys? His hands fall away from my arms, and I’m chilled from the loss of his heat.

He looks startled. I don’t think he realized he’d said it out loud. “Uh.” He shakes his head, as if to clear it. “Talking. I’m supposed to talk to you.”

“Forget about trying to scare me with your tough guy act to make me leave. You don’t scare me, Kendall Saint James.”

I punctuate it with my finger in his chest like before, and his hands come back to grip my arms. He’s squeezing me, like he can’t decide if he’s going to push me away or lift me into the air. Either way, I’d be lying if I didn’t say he scared me alittlein that moment. There is leashed violence in his body, looking for an escape.

“Yeah, well.” He looms closer. “What do we do ifyouscareme?”

“What?” My voice is a breath. That is…not what I expected him to say.

At some point, he’s moved so that his body presses into mine, chest to hip. And I should be terrified he means to take advantage of me, but it feelsgood. Like, mind-alteringly delicious. “You. Scare. Me, Helena.” His hands tighten again asthey haul me against him, then deliciouspressureeverywhere all over my body. I’ve never experienced anything like this. This is… this is…notright. I feel like I can see sound and taste colors. Somewhere in the back of my mind, an alarm bell rings. This isn’t normal. My body’s senses are tuned up to an painful level and everything filling them is Kendall. Sight. Smell. Sound.

Ragged breathing. His chest rises and falls with mine. We’re both breathing like we’ve run a marathon. I drag my hands down his chest, just to feel the scratch of his suit jacket, and the smoothness of the shirt beneath. I’m a junkie for sensation. I press harder into him, seeking more of that delicious pressure. I want to be sandwiched between Kendall and this wall in the most primal, most forceful way possible.

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