Page 43 of Icy Heart, Empty Chest
I pulled his arm around me and nearly got pulled down trying to stand him up. He was pure deadweight. The sweat from his arm coated the back of my neck and I gagged a bit. “Dae,” I gasped, “use your legs a bit more.” He groaned, complying. I was able to get us upright and he took a few heavy steps towards his door. His muscular frame was heavier than I thought it’d be.
“Mind the glass. I’ll replace it later.” I was hoping I was coming off more confident than I actually was.
His leg slipped down from the first step to the second and I was starting to perspire myself. The steps were one at a time, slowly. If he went back down, I’m not sure if I could get him back up. I could try to heal him but I couldn’t drive while that drained. I doubt it would help that much either. Not at this stage.
Propping him on the car’s side, I threw open the back door and unceremoniously stuffed him in, awkwardly throwing the seatbelt into place. Now, instead of slumping awkwardly and over his couch, it was the backseat of my car. I prayed to all the gods that I would not get pulled over.
I tapped my phone back to life and dialed a number.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, clear a table.”
CHAPTER 12
Unsent email:
Dear Cor,
I don't know why I still type all this out but I think it helps a little. Your father’s funeral was yesterday and I really hate everything. You looked so tired and defeated. I hated how you looked at me, like you didn’t even know me anymore. You were so angry and heartbroken. Something just cracked. My father just gave me a nasty smile as he walked away. He knew he had defeated any other rebellious uprising in my soul. You were the last piece and now you were completely gone. I did everything he wanted, got the degree, got into the MF, passed everything with flying colors. But I lost you. I lost your dad too; he actually gave a damn about me. I don’t think I’m ever going to be the same. I should have been there for you. I should have thought of something. I never wanted to smile and pretend like I didn’t want to be friends with you anymore.
This feeling in the pit of my stomach isn’t going away. I love you so much, Cor, but I can’t be in this much pain forever. I don’t want to die but I don't want to live with all of this guilt and agony forever.
Deleted from unsent inbox: 2:28am
CHAPTER 13
Filla’s cool blue eyes regarded me with a measure of ingrained hostility as I dragged my half unconscious cargo into her home. Damien had stopped with one-word answers about halfway through the trip but that harsh labored breathing was still there.
“I’m not sure what you expect me to do with that,” she rebuked me, mildly.
I glared at her before I could stop myself. I had a half dead kelpie slung around my shoulders. He slid and dropped, landing with his head on my shins. I grabbed his arms and tugged backward, barely budging. With a shriek escaping from my lips, I managed to pull him over the threshold.
“I think you know exactly what I want. Where do I put him?”
She lazily flicked a hand to the table. My labors continued as I dragged him back. Giving him possibly the worst wedgie in the history of all fae-kind, I grabbed his belt and the loops and hoisted.
I pushed him to a sitting position before guiding his head down and then rushing to bring his legs up.
“I need you to put it back. Reverse the dekartios spell. His time’s almost up,” I rasped.
She pretended to consider it for a moment.
“Hmm. No. He knew the risks. At this point in time it would be almost futile to put it back in his chest.”
I was trying to keep my cool but kept glancing at his sickly pallor. “What would you want to perform the spell? I got the doctor to give up getting his money back and it’s all yours. What else do you want?”
“Little nymph, it may not be a matter of price.” She glided over to him, assessing. “He may be too far gone to try.”
“Please. I will try anything. I will give you whatever I have,” I pleaded. I was beyond reason at that point. The idea that he was slipping away was unfathomable, insidious.
She regarded me with a frown.
“What is he to you?”
I wrung my hands together. “The last person who cares about me in this world.”
“It’s not enough.”
I threw my arms up, screeching. “What answer are you looking for? My first and last friend. The only one who ever gave a damn. Someone I love more than this life itself.”
