Page 90 of Switching Graves

Raze

Iwatch the minutes pass by on the clock that sits across from the bed, equal parts anxious and content as the mess of curls splayed across my chest rise and fall with her breaths. My phone’s alarm went off twenty-four minutes ago, signaling the start of my day. But all I’ve managed to do is hit the snooze button and lie here paralyzed, too afraid to wake her and break this spell we’ve been under for the past twelve hours.

She got back from her holiday with family and came straight here last night. The apprehension on her face as she stood on my threshold, bringing her hands, told me exactly how nervous she was to make such a grand gesture. But she looked worn and tired, in need of refuge.

I’ll never admit how much I missed her presence while she was away. Apparently, it was enough to risk one of my colleagues finding her here, breaking the rules.

What in the world could have possibly made me worthy of her care?

This entanglement has only complicated things, putting me in an impossible position. I cannot be the man she needs me to be when I’m working behind the scenes to destroy her life. Especially now that there’s a deadline looming.

It was easier when I hated her.

But now?

God.

I can feel time closing in on me, forcing me to decide. Do I continue with my current path, or veer off into the unknown with her? The plan has been set for so long that anything else seems incomprehensible. Yet, times like these make me wonder . . .

Whitlocks don’t get the happy ending.

I know that the moment those odd eyes flutter open, everything will go back to normal, the way it always does. Back to the feigned hostile contempt we’ve shared since the moment I laid eyes on her. Back to the secret, longing glances that are cast between us in the fleeting seconds we know that no one is looking.

Our connection is splintered together with contradictions that open a pit in my chest and make my head spin. If only I could pause time and remain suspended in this moment long enough to piece together exactly how all of this fits. Perhaps I could even ask her to—once she finally admits to being an Aeternum. But that would take an eternity, and I’m afraid that even that wouldn’t be enough to make sense of our predicament.

I want to crawl inside of her and make a home there, nestled deep away from the rest of the world. With zero expectations; a clear reputation; no predetermined fates. I wonder who I could be if only I could sit with her peaceful aura long enough to decide. To have a say. She represents something dangerous—something I haven’t seen in Nocturne Valley before.

She represents hope.

But I can’t have hope. I’m the weapon of the Midnight Syndicate. A tool they use to cut down any obstacles that accidentally stumble into their path. A walking threat to anyone who dares challenge their righteousness.

I’m the opposite of hope. I am despair. I am misery and anguish. I’m death incarnate.

Every moment I spend with her, pretending to be anything other than what I am, is a threat against her life.

No matter how tightly I try to grasp onto the idea of ever being worthy of her love, I’m still a bloodthirsty killer, hellbent on enacting my revenge, and she’s still my personal target.

So, I’ll take these small moments and appreciate them while I can. I’ll cherish this gift I haven’t earned, and when we leave our tiny bubble of safety, I’ll get back to the plan.

She’ll hate me in the end, but it will be what’s best.

It’ll be what we all deserve.

46

Sonny

There’s a grave marked with my name in the town cemetery. It sits between my three brothers, the only one out of birth order. That feels like a jab against me from the Midnight Syndicate. As if they knew I’d make my way out here eventually to pay my respects, and they wanted to grate on my nerves a bit, the same way I’ve grated on theirs.

It certainly worked.

I wrapped my hands around the granite stone and ripped it out of the earth, my small muscles fueled by pure rage.

It was heavy. So, so heavy.

But I had time.

I dragged it through the cemetery, down the street, and around the corner.

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