Page 32 of Forever We Fall

My head swings in a slow back and forth. “That has rules, regulations. With him, it’s life and death.”

“I know.” Hota stands and comes closer to me than he ever has, nearly touching his chest to mine. “I choose your life and his death.”

“What would you do if he held a knife to my throat?” I cock my head. When he doesn’t answer, I answer for him. “You would do whatever he told you to. You’d lock shackles around your ankles to keep him from slitting my throat. I know because I’ve done it to myself. You would lay your belly on the floor and let him hurt you. I know because I’ve done it myself all so he would stop hurting my dog. What would you endure so that he’d stop hurting me?”

His jaw flexes, and his lips stay stubbornly closed because we both know the answer to the question. He’d do anything. That makes me angrier than anything. That he’d risk himself for me.

I lower my head until we’re breathing the same air. “I will not risk you.”

“But you’ll risk you?” he snarls. His chest brushes mine, but I don’t care. I have to get my point across.

“I’m already at risk.” I shrug.

His teeth flash, and his hands form fists at his sides.

“He needs me to get my parents’ money, which he’s running low on already. I have to do this while I still have that over him. After, he’ll have no reason to keep me alive.”

The more I talk, the redder Hota’s cheeks become.

“He’s already picked out my grave. A dried-up well. It’s in the middle of farmland. He’s explained in great detail how no one will ever find my body.”

“You,” Hota shouts. “How no one will ever findyou!” His fists shake as though he wants to shake me.

“The best part is he told me exactly how to find the well. All I have to do is make it his grave instead of mine."

“Let me help you,” he implores. The veins in his neck look ready to burst.

“No.” I press my forehead to his. Heat radiates from his smooth skin, bolstering mine.

At the contact, Hota sucks in a breath. The fight drains from his shoulders, and his eyes close for just a second before he finds mine again.

“I can’t lose you. Not ever.”

He’s quiet for a handful of heartbeats. Then he sighs. “You never will.”

“Thank you.” I shudder.

“Fuck you.” He offers me a sad smirk, then straightens and climbs into bed.

“Maybe one day,” I say, meaning it, hoping one day I’ll have command over my mind and body enough to enjoy him. I’m sure he thinks I’m joking because he says nothing. I grab his discarded pillow, toss it back, and climb into my spot, thankful to have Hotaru as my guy.

“Head in the match, or you’re going to lose,” Nate yells to me from the side of the ring.

Coach has already told me “to squeeze,” “to break my opponent,” and most recently, “to stop stalling.” It’s the first time in the four weeks of official training and the two weeks of tournaments that Coach has done anything besides cheer for me.

I am stalling.

With a stranger’s armpit bracketing my jaw, I crank my neck to look up into the bleachers yet again. Just as I have for the last thirty minutes, Arlo’s signature spot is empty.

It’s devoid of his reassuring presence for the first time since I hit the mats nine weeks ago. I knew he’d show before we started warming up. Then I knew he’d show when the first match started. When his spot remained barren, I knew he’d magically appear the moment I stepped to my starting line, where my opponent anxiously waited at his across from me.

For the last seven weeks, we’ve been inseparable. Even after his confession and my total fucking freak-out about it, we’vebeen on the next level. Not physically, of course, but mentally and emotionally, we are linked.

We exchange entire conversations through a single facial expression. We’ve even started using simple signs to communicate in the hallways, during spur-of-the-moment footy games in the quad, and in the great hall for meals.

“Move, Kido!” Coach puts his face on the mat between Arlo’s spot and me. “Now!”

I’m so pissed that he’s in my way that I key into my opponent. With a slide of my shoulders and a flip of my hips, I mount him. Foot hooked around his ankle, I grab his wrist and bring his chest to the mat. I cradle and pop him, then hold him with all my might.

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