Page 32 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
“As long as it takes to rebuild my house.”
“Could be a while then,” I mutter, heading for the door.
I hear his grin behind me. “Could be.”
“Well you know what you have to do, don’t you?” I say, lightly. His bare arm brushes against me and his thick, inked fingers curl around the door handle.
His voice is rough and warm across the nape of my neck. “What’s that?”
The door opens and I step onto the staircase and say cheerily, “Make like a vacuum and suck it up.”
I practically hear his eyebrows shoot up, though I can’t see them. I turn just in time to watch his response leave his lips.
“You’re such a brat.”
Something warm and liquid oozes from my head to my toes and I skip down the rest of the stairs.
When I look back over my shoulder he’s filling his doorway, bending slightly so it accommodates his height. His hands are now shoved into his pockets andhe’s wearing an expression I can’t read. All I see is a lowered brow, hooded dark eyes and a bottom lip caught between his teeth.
I give him one last, timid, smile and let myself out onto the street. Sure enough, there’s a black car waiting, its headlamps illuminating the sidewalk. As I make my way toward it, his words play on repeat.
They should have felt condescending, disrespectful… Rude, even. They could have implied that I was juvenile—a child. They should have sent me reeling back to when Mama died and I was suddenly treated like the baby of the family—something I’ve worked hard to shake ever since.
He called me the one name I would normally have hated more than anything.
You’re such abrat.
But he said it with a smile. And I liked it.
Contessa
As if my dark demons can sense my mind softening toward Bernadi, fate delivers a package that only reaffirms my hatred for the assassin upstairs.
When I toss my keys onto the hall stand, they don’t clink like they normally do; they thunk. I look down to see they’ve landed on a brown paper-wrapped package addressed to me. I pick it up and inspect it for a sender’s address, but the only address I can see is mine.
I take it straight to my room and sit on the edge of the bed to carefully open it. I never get mail, but instead of feeling excited at the prospect, my pulse is skittering with apprehension.
When all the paper is in a pile at my feet, I’m left holding a plain white box. I tear off the tape and openit, then my heartbreaks.
Inside is a pile of envelopes, tied together with string. My own handwriting stares back at me. I don’t need to count through the envelopes to know there are thirty-six of them, stacked in order of the date they were sent. Almost one letter for each month Fed has been gone.
My eyes are hot and dry when I blink. They ran out of tears a long time ago.
I take one end of the string and pull, releasing the bow that binds them all together. When they slide apart, I notice they’ve been opened. Whether Fed received these letters or not,someonehas read them.
I pick up the top envelope and pull out the letter. Even though it was written over three years ago, my handwriting hasn’t changed, and I know what I wrote, word for word, because I’ve played it back constantly, wondering if I’d said the wrong thing. I unfold the white paper and read.
Dear Fed,
It’s only been a few weeks since you left but I already miss you so much. I hope you and your parents have found somewhere nice to settle. Have you started at a new school?
Sorry if I was a bit weird when we said goodbye. I was in shock, I think. Losing my virginity was different to whatI’d expected and I’m still trying to make sense of it. I need you to know that I love you as a friend, but I don’t think I’m ready for anything more right now. I guess with the distance between us now, being anything more than friends is pretty impossible, but I think that’s good. I really hope saying this doesn’t hurt your feelings. I would never want to hurt you, Fed. I’m really glad we experienced our first time together, as friends.
I can’t wait to hear from you. I want to know you’re safe and I wish you all the happiness in the world.
Your best friend, Tess xxx
My fingers tremble slightly as I fold the note and place it back inside the envelope, then I take out the one beneath it.
