Page 33 of All Our Ghosts

My free hand rises, grasping his wrist gently, squeezing and hoping that he’ll understand my silent plea for more.

Holden trails his hand along the wood, his fingers dancing along the collar of my jacket as they slide behind my neck. Slowly and softly, they wrap around me, tangling into my hair. I let go of his wrist but reach for his lips, touching them so softly that if they weren’t burning and kiss-bitten, it feels like I'm barely touching him at all.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me,” he says against my touch, surprising me.

The lust in his darkened eyes has been replaced with something else as I stare up at him, shaking my head, “I don’t want to be either.”

He dips his head again, pressing his lips against mine without hesitation. Holden tugs my body closer to his with a groan, his other hand dropping from my neck around to my lower back.

Everything he touches feels like it’s on fire, burning with the heat building in my core. I feel his knee slide between my thighs, practically holding me up. A moan falls from my lips that he’s quick to swallow.

My anxiety from tonight slowly begins to fade away with the slow and calculated movement of his lips. I still feel like running, I’m worried that now it’s always going to be ingrained in my bones to want to run.

Holden pulls away this time, “I want to leave, and I want you to come with me.”

“To where?”

He shrugs, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. “Anywhere but here.”

I smile softly. He’s giving me the chance to run and at this moment I don’t care that he’s with me. I welcome it.

“Okay,” I breathe.

The smile on his face grows as he releases his hold on me and it’s the first time that the hardened soul behind his eyes disappears. His fingers lace with mine as he pulls me along the edge of the house as if he’d snuck out of these dinners a million times. I don’t doubt that he has.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, making me stop with Holden turning back towards me. I haven’t had any notifications all day. I figure it’s just Maria checking in on me. Easy enough, I’ll text her back, tell her I’m fine, and call her in the morning.

I pull my phone out, glancing down at the notification.

My heart drops at the name.

[Mom]:You’ll never guess who I had lunch with today! Jeremy says he misses you.

[Mom]:Kadie, when are you going to stop this foolishness and come home? What you’re doing isn’t fair to Jeremy or me.

She had lunch with him? My stomach feels like it’s in my throat. What’s wrong with her? She had lunch with him like he’s a friend. Like he isn’t the one who had put me in the hospital. Like he isn’t–

“What is it?” Holden asks, concern dripping from his words.

My phone buzzes again and this time I really feel like I’m going to vomit.

“Kadence,” he says, taking a step towards me as tears prick at the corner of my eyes.

[Unknown Number]:I’ll find you Princess. You can’t run forever.

KADENCE

“Kadence?”

Holden’s voice is muffled by the sound of my blood rushing in my ears. How can my mother do that to me? Act like Jeremy is her best fucking friend and enjoy a meal with him. I want to be shocked but a part of me knows I shouldn’t be. Jeremy has a way with words around my mother and the more my mind begins to spiral the more my stomach churns at the thought of them breaking bread at my expense.

I can feel Holden moving in on me, doing what any normal person would do and trying to console whatever terrified look is plastered on my face. All I can feel is anger and betrayal brewing in my chest as I shove my phone back into my pocket.

Warm fingers graze along my cheekbone, causing me to flinch back slightly. When our eyes meet, I see his are wide and wild, a concerned look dripping from them. His brows are furrowed and looking deflated as I realize I’ve pulled away from him.

I part my lips, wanting to apologize, to explain my movement but instead my face crumples. There isn’t any explaining this tohim. My past is my past and it isn’t something I want to relive over and over again. Or re-hash like some old war story.

I expect him to press me and question my reaction but instead, the concerned and slowly hardening look, softens.

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