Page 49 of Heartless

I almost ask him if I should change the subject. If I should leave this for later. But now that I’ve had the dream, I can’t get the memory out of my head. Even awake, I can’t remember what Carissa was saying. It’s just…garbled and all mushed together. ButsurelyI heard her, didn’t I?

“If you say you don’t remember, I’ll believe you,” I say slowly, knowing I’m giving him an easy out if he doesn’t want to answer. He’s still so fucking quiet, so I keep going, settling a little more comfortably on his hips. “When we were kids, there was this day that I was at your house. It was a few months before…” I trail off, figuring he knows what I mean.

I don’t miss the subtle clench of his fingers, or the way his chin jerks, just a little.

Nor do I miss the fact that he’s now looking at me from under his arm.

“Carissa put a movie on for me and said she needed to go up to her room for a few minutes. Only, the sound wasn’t so loud, and I heard her yelling. I remember going up the stairs and I saw she was yelling at you, but I couldn’t figure out what you’d done. You didn’t tell her I was there, but she saw me and closed the door between us like she didn’t want me looking at you?” I can’t help phrasing it as a question, unsure of my own memories from so long ago. “And told me to go back downstairs. I did, obviously. And I guess little kid me just didn’t think it was that important.” I stop talking, drumming my fingers anxiously on his stomach as I stare down at the hollow of his throat.

“So what are you asking me, Winnie?” Cassian asks when I don’t continue, prompting me to look up at him, yanked out of my own thoughts.

“So it’s something that happened, then? It’s not just some fake memory my brain conjured?” It’s not the question Ineedto ask, but I stop it from coming out. “That’s not my actual question, by the way.”

He’s quiet again, and I wonder if he knows that just makes him more suspicious. Especially with the way he doesn’t want to look at me. “What’s your actual question?” he replies at last, not giving me a real answer. His tone is carefully guarded, and I figure he’s going to take an easy way out, or just tell me he doesn’t want to answer.

“Why was she yelling at you?” It doesn’t come out as casual or conversational as what I intend it to. No, my words are a whisper, my eyes fixed on his even under his arm. I can barely see the glitter of blue from where I’m sitting, but it’s enough.

“You don’t remember?”

I shake my head at his words. “No, I…no matter what I do, I can’t remember any of what she was saying to you. It just sounds garbled in my head, like she was one of the adults from Charlie Brown.I don’t know why. It’s not like that memory is particularly traumatic…for me, at least.”

Yet again, my words are met with silence. Cassian adjusts his arm so his eyes are completely hidden again, and lets out a breathy sigh as he relaxes into my pillows. I don’t press him for an answer. Not this time. For some reason, this is a bigger deal for him than it is for me, for all that it’s nagging at my brain this morning with a chime of importance that I don’t understand. Trying to be supportive, I stroke my fingers over his hip bones, tracing shapes and loops along his flawless skin.

“Sometimes I’ve wondered if you didn’t hear her,” Cassian says finally, his words quiet and hesitant. “I thought you musthave, when I saw you looking at me…but the next day you didn’t act like there was anything out of place.” A smile twitches at the corners of his lips. “Actually, the next day you demanded I help you make a bat costume.”

“I remember that,” I reply softly, finding that it’s true. “I wanted you to be my co-bat. We were going to have long ears and I had all this stupid fur…” trailing off, I bite my lips as I watch him, thinking. “But we didn’t.” God, my memories of this far back are hazy at best. “We didn’t because. Umm…” I sort through the small pieces of memories and conversations in my head. “Carissa said you were too busy with a school project? I think?”

His derisive snort makes me jump, and when I relax again, I find that he’s uncovered his eyes to meet mine. “It was about you,” he tells me, gaze catching my own and pinning me in place. Even without his hands on me, I can’t move. Not when I’m anchored by those four words as I try to figure out what they mean.

Thankfully, he doesn’t leave me in suspense. “There was no project,” Cass sneers, and I’m surprised to find an angry, searing heat in his eyes that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. “There never was. She didn’t want you spending time with me. Don’t you remember? After you found her yelling at me, she did everything she could to keep us apart.”

My fingers clench against his skin as I press them to his stomach, my attention riveted to him. A ripple of unease travels up my spine, and I suddenly wonder if maybe, just maybe, I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

Maybe this is one question Idon’tneed answered.

“She found out what you’d become to me. How I felt about you. She found out what I did to the boy who tripped you one day after kindergarten.” He closes his eyes, then adds, “She found out what I was planning to do to your dad.”

I yank my fingers away from his skin, eyes wide. “W-what?” I ask softly. “What do you?—”

“You think I would just continue to let him hurt you? You think I was going to sit there and let your mother bring you back to him, day after day?” He sneers his reply, and yet again his gaze is holding mine, not letting me go. “I’m not much for fire, Winnie, but when I was twelve, that seemed like the easiest way to get rid of them for you. My mom would’ve taken you in; we both know that. You would’ve beensafein my house withme.”

I can’t help the tremors that run from my head to my fingertips when he says that last part, and I’m completely at a loss for words. All I can do is stay trapped by his gaze, my heart racing like a frightened rabbit in my chest, seeking any escape it can from under the cage of my ribs.

“We were kids, though,” I find myself murmuring. “You didn’t—You barely evenlikedme.”

Cass sits up quickly, catching me before I can fall back. I have to adjust, sitting over his lap with my hands braced on his shoulders. “The first time I saw you cry, I could never look away from you again,” he growls quietly. “You weremine. Back then you were like the little sister I never wanted. The sister I needed to protect. Only I couldn’t, because you didn’t live with me. So I would’ve gotten rid of them. Your dad, your mom…Lou wasn’t on my radar. She couldn’t have taken you in back then.” He reaches up, smoothing his hands down my face as he pulls me in close until our foreheads are pressed together.

“Carissa threatened me. Said I wasn’t allowed to be around you anymore,” Cass croons with his eyes open and so intense that it’sterrifying.“She said if I didn’t leave you alone, she’d tell my mom, your mom… She’d make sure you never got to come over again. For yoursafety, she said,” he sneers that last part, lips twisted in disgust.

My hands are trembling. I realize it belatedly, with my fingers curled against his shoulders and nowhere to look but his eyes. “Is that…” I trail off, the words dying in my throat.

But Cass only grins, the darkness, thestrangenessin his gaze returning. But this time, I know what it is.

He’s a psychopath.

That’s what I’m seeing in his eyes when he looks at me like this. His darkness, his cruelty…hisobsessionwith me that goes past unhealthy.

Cass is crazy. I realize it now as I look into his ice-blue eyes that won’t let mine go.

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