Page 67 of Corrupt Idol

He let out a short chuckle. “But I’m being so good right now.”

She thumped his shoulder. “Can’t time slow down just a little bit?” she whispered. “I need more time.”

“I’ve been saying that for most of my life,” he said as he stroked her back.

She swiped at her face. “She’s your mom. You must be taking it worse than me.”

“I’ve done this before. I should be used to it, but… I don’t know what’s worse. Not knowing it’s going to happen or watching it happen slowly.”

His desolate tone made her reach out and cup his face. “We have time. She’s still here.”

She could feel the intensity of his gaze even in the darkness.

“Are you going to be there for me after she’s gone?” he asked.

When she hesitated, his hold tightened.

“You’d leave me out in the cold?”

She tried to push off him, but his arm kept her plastered against him. He cupped her chin and lifted it to the meager moonlight.

“I need you, Violet.”

Her heart felt as if it was being squeezed. “Jesse, I—”

“I’ve done horrible things, but I need you in my life.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I’m trying to give you what you need.”

Something about his miserable tone struck a chord in her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, sensing he needed comfort just as much as she did.

“I’m right here, Jesse.”

“And later?”

Her soul tore. “I…”

“Promise me,” he demanded.

“Jesse.”

“I can’t do this without you. If I have you, I can handle anything.”

Even as a small voice in the back of her mind told her not to give in, her mouth said, “I’ll be there.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Past and present collided. They were renewing promises they made to each other as children, clinging to one another, making sure they would never be alone. They were much older, but still lost and scared. She brushed her cheek against his and found it damp. Intuition told her it wasn’t the ocean, but tears that had been concealed in the dark.

“Don’t, Jesse,” she whispered.

The need to console him compelled her to frame his face and kiss him. When he sucked in a breath, his mouth parted and her tongue delved in. The taste of some kind of citrus made her explore him more thoroughly. His hand clenched in her hair while he shifted restlessly against her.

She was the aggressor. She was drowning and needed something to keep her anchored in an unfair world where nothing made sense. She needed something real and tangible to keep her sane. When she arched against him, he groaned.

“Violet?”

There was a question in his voice, one she didn’t want to verbalize because it would break the spell they were under. Instead, she unwrapped her legs from his waist and tugged him toward the shallow. He didn’t waste any time getting them out of the water, but when he moved toward the lounge chairs, she pulled him to a stop and sank to her knees. Water pooled around her knees and disappeared as the wave retracted.

---