Page 233 of Haunt Me

“Fine. How will you answer their questions about your relationship with her?” Skye starts asking me, going directly into manager mode.

I look him straight in the eye. “What relationship? There never was one. Or at least, that’s what I’ll tell them.”

He inhales sharply. I see the cogs turning in his head, but he knows that this is what I have to do. It might be a lie, but by the end of the interview, I will make damn sure it’s the truth. I’m not touching this amazing girl with a ten foot pole ever again. I’m forbidden from even thinking about her.

I am forbidding myself to even think about her anymore.

My head falls back and an unearthly groan of pure, animalistic agony escapes me.

I can already see the look on her face when she watches the interview: The instantaneous slice of pain that will assault her, as if someone has jammed a knife between her ribs. Me. I am going to have to do that to her.

But it’s the only way.

I am ending it, or it is ending us.

I used to think I would die before I let any kind of danger come near Eden, but now the danger has found her. There is nothing to protect her from; the absolute worst scenario So I am going to have to end it all. I am going to have to murder all the faint hope that’s still slow-burning between us.

But I don’t mind murdering it, I might as well have died myself.

It’s not killing me to do this: I am already dead.

“Keep going,” I urge Skye, “give me more questions.”

As he talks, in my head, I am making my own plans.

I am going to swallow a pill so that I can do that interview, and then I am walking into that press room and ending any hope between Eden and me. For good.

I look down at my boots; Skye has a death grip on my shoulder, trying to keep me together as he is feverishly beginning his calls.

I don’t know how I’m upright.

I am numb all over.

It’s over, I keep thinking.It’s over it’s over it’s over it’s over

Eden’s Phone

*incoming call from Jude*

Eden: Hey.

Jude: Hi, En, what’s up? I gotta be honest, I wasn’t sure you would answer.

Eden: Of course I’d answer it. I miss you, Jude.

Jude: Have you seen the news that blew up about you and Isaiah?

Eden: Yeah, I saw. The messages have started. So far, three news channels have called me.

Jude: I am so sorry, En. So, so sorry. Listen, I wouldn’t call you so late if it wasn’t an emergency, but it is. Isaiah has asked me to let you know that he is sending you three of his security guards.

Eden: That’s not necessary, but thank you.

Jude: Look, Eden, maybe you don’t understand the level of scrutiny you will be under, the morbid curiosity, the intrusion, the danger… There might—therewillbe stalkers and all sorts of dangerous or, worse, stupid people seeking you out. You need protection, and you need it now. You are not safe. Isaiah is going out of his mind with worry, and, frankly, so am I.

Eden: I already have protection. I have three security guards outside my dorm room right now. One of them is insisting I let him stay inside with me. It’s not happening.

Jude: Oh, you have…? How did…? How did that happen?

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