Page 56 of Where He Ended

Gripping my braid, I pull it over my shoulder and run my hand down it all the way to my hip. “Years,” I say honestly.

She hands me my change and the bags. “Always wanted to grow mine out, but I never know what to do with it once it gets to my shoulders.” She motions at Kara. “Never thought I could rock that look either, though. Don't got the face for it. You two, though? You can work it either way. You're very lucky.”

She's making small talk.I'm so used to everyone around me hiding things, or speaking in double meanings, that something as innocent as a conversation in a store is mind-boggling. It draws attention to how fucked up my life has been. This is one of the few times I've bought something as innocuous assnacksin public, and it's making me sweat.

Will everything be this way? All my interactions clouded by a film of sticky distrust, always waiting for something to fall apart, for someone to betray me? The woman is staring at me with her mouth all puckered up. I hear my rapid breathing and notice I'm freaking out, on the verge of dropping things and running. That's what I need—to run, to just go and go andgountil my body shreds itself apart, my essence slipping onto the breeze, my existence erased so I can finally stop wondering what's going to happen to me next.

Kara grabs my hand so fiercely it wakes me from my stupor. Yanking me away, she speaks over her shoulder to the nervous woman. “You're right. Wearelucky.” We get outside to our car. Once there, she snatches the bags from me; I forgot I was holding them. “What's wrong with you?” she asks under her breath.

Panic clutches my lungs, my voice straining as it comes out. “I . . . don't know. I don't know.” Eyeing the gas station, I turn back and look into my sister's worried face. Her blue irises are vibrant. Her concern is calming—it's something I'm familiar with.

Right. Familiar.

That's what I need right now.

“Come on,” I say, sitting in the car. Kara stands outside my door, still watching me uncertainly. “Let's get out of here. I want to go home.” Her face lights up when I say that last word.

“Okay,” she says, climbing in beside me, revving the engine. “Now you're speaking my language.”

I give her a weak smile. My hand glides down the seatbelt, the scratchy sound calling back to the time Dominic wrapped the belt in his fingers, trapping me in this very seat. Pinching my eyes shut, I push him away. I replace him as best as I can with images of pine trees rising over a hand-built cabin near slippery stones in a river and leaping deer.

Even if it's not perfect . . . even if Dominic won't be there . . .

At least it will be a place I know.

****

WE MAKE IT TO THE CABINby late afternoon. It's record time, compared to my last trip. It helped that Kara drove with a heavy foot on the pedal.

She parks the car a yard away from the cabin's front door, but doesn't turn off the engine. “Kara?” I ask.

She's sitting there with her hands bunched around the wheel, eyes wide open, fixated on the worse for wear cabin. “We're really here,” she says quietly.

Reaching over, I turn off the engine. She glances at me when I do that. “I should warn you,” I say, “it's kind of beaten up in there. The place needs a lot of work.”

Her mouth lifts at the corners, growing into a smile that makes her look like she's thirteen again. “Since when has hard work ever bothered either of us?”

For a second I actually forget how miserable I am. Kara's happiness is infectious.

I follow her out of the car and as I do, I notice something sticking to my shoe. Bending down, I lift up the tiny circle and hold it towards the sky where it sparkles brilliantly.

It's a gold sequin.

The sight of it spirals me back into a dangerously warm memory.

The sound of cloth ripping fills our silent bubble. My fingers coil in the bodice of my gown. Sitting up, I rip it from my body. The stitching is strong and well made; I fight with the fabric in great, gut-wrenching heaves until the gold sequins explode all over the floor of his car.

“Laiken!” he shouts, pulling off the road, putting the car in park. “What are you doing?”

“I never want to see this dress again!” My arms flex, the fabric splitting until my upper body is bare. There are almost no lights on this quiet stretch of road. The lamp pole in the distance casts a reddish glow through the windshield, illuminating my skin like I'm standing in the middle of a volcano.

I'm breathing hard, my breasts rising in waves. Gripping the bundled mess around my hips, I catch Dominic staring at me. Our gaze locks. He hasn't seen me naked in weeks and now he's about to see everything I have to offer. But I can't keep the dress on. I need it off of me. I wish I could destroy it entirely. I hesitate a second, then I set my mouth in a serious line and push the dress down my legs. When I'm done, I'm sitting on the car's seat in just my white panties.

I'm still panting.

Dominic is drawing in quick breaths, too.

“You saved me,” I say. “That's the second time.”

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