Page 68 of Light As A Feather
That last shred of restraint splits, and I’m lunging at him. His shoulder cracks with the force with which I slam him into the wall. But something else fractures; there’s a shift in his blue eyes, the man I’ve known most of my life isn’t there. He’s distant, murky, a darkness sitting there that I’ve never once seen. I stumble backward, but it’s gone as quickly as I take notice; clarity strikes free beneath the cloud of anger.
“Don’t follow me,” he gasps out and takes off out the door on long legs that not even I can keep up with. The door swings on whining hinges as I watch him race out to his car, throwing his bag in the passenger seat like it doesn’t hold his livelihood in it.
When I finally walk over to the door, I hesitate to close it because if I do, it feels like I’m turning my back on him. Despite everything, it’s clear that he needs me, but there’s something more to this that I can’t quite put my finger on. Not yet at least. I can only hope that I figure it out before the rift between us becomes irreparable.
The water runs upstairs, and I can’t bring myself to trek up there just yet, needing the silence to peel away all the messy emotions that cling to me. I fill a glass with a finger of my dad’s favorite brandy. I’m tempted to call him, but it’s late on the East Coast and he’s probably been working as hard as usual.
He’s always been there for me, even when I came out, even when I went through my first breakup. It’s why I know he’d have the right words for me. But then there are all the things I’d have to leave out of the conversation, the half-truths and the bits I’d have to skip around. I wouldn’t even be able to tell him about mygreatest worry, the horrible suspicion I have for Jayden’s recent switch-up, his uncharacteristic resentment, and the aggression.
I’m not ready to speak, let alone truly think it. It’s a potential I’m not quite ready to face, a fear that sinks deep beneath my skin and has my heart in a vise grip. Instead, I drink until I can’t feel the way its claws dig into me.
When I go upstairs and slip into bed beside Sol, she doesn’t demand anything from me. Her arms simply wrap around me, pulling my head against her chest, her nails sweeping across my bare back in a soothing motion that lulls me to sleep like nothing could ever be wrong again.
OCTOBER 31, 2008
Panic seizes me as I watch Hawthorne’s body convulse on the floor. “Thorne, Thorne, wake up.” I grip his shoulders desperately, bruising, clutching to him like the lifeline he’s become for me.
“Maybe he had too much to drink? We should call an ambulance,” Jayden says from beside me. Even more kids make a quick exit, not wanting to get caught underage drinking. The callousness shouldn’t surprise me.
The house falls quiet. Everyone except Jayden and me has run off, either pretending to try to help or saving their own ass.
Nothing anyone else says or does matters because I know the truth. I saw the way Ivan looked at him. There’s nothing that they can do; I have to be the one to fix this.
Taking Thorne’s face in my hands, I bring my ear to his mouth, desperate to hear the whisper of his breath. There’s nothing. In the absence of his heartbeat, mine skyrockets. “Thorne, don’t leave me yet. I need you.” As if the words will change anything, I repeat it over and over and over.
Instead of those dark brown eyes that’ve become my safe place, I’m met with vast whiteness as he looks up at me. “Thorne isn’t here anymore. I’m getting him out of the way, for us.”
“No,” I gasp, falling back on my heels. “No. I don’t want that; I want him. Bring him back.” The words slur with a fresh onslaught of tearsas he grabs me around my wrist.“Whatever you’re doing to him, make it stop. Please.”
“Why would I do that when he’s in the way of what I want?” His hold tightens.
“What do you want? I’ll give you anything. Just please don’t hurt him.” Hawthorne’s eyes roll back in his head.
“Anything?”
“Yes.”
“His life for a favor—a deal, if you will.”
“What do you want with me? I’m not special. I have nothing to offer you.”
He tilts his head, considering me at my significantly shorter stature. “You can see and hear me. Do you not know what a special thing that is?”
“It’s not just you.”
“For years, I’ve lingered here, in this house, without so much as a second glance. And then you come along?—”
“I’ll let you do whatever you want. We can go back to the way things were. Just leave him alone.”
“But this is so much better.” He sits up and tugs me closer. I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to bear the clear absence of Hawthorne in his own body. “No more compromising halfway. I can make you mine wholly and completely.”
“Not like this. Please, not like this. Anything else, I’ll do it. Just let him go.”
“So eager to strike a deal with The Devil.”His voice, layered with Hawthorne’s, is sinister and twisted. In my grief andterror, all I can do is tremble in his hold as I beg for mercy for the boy I love. “I’m no devil, Solaneen, but I do intend to own you.”
“Stop talking in riddles and just tell me what you want.” Lightheadedness threatens to overtake me as my mind and body struggle under the heightened state of duress.
“You promise that you’ll never push me away again when I come to you.” Our faces are nearly touching with how closely he leans into me. “You promise yourself to me.”
