Tremble (Denazen #3)(22)



He took another step. Inches. He was inches from me now, the warmth from his body radiating like the sun. Every one of my muscles plunged into an all-out war with my heart. Common sense screamed for me to match his steps forward with ones away. Keep your distance—he’s dangerous!

My heart wanted to move closer.

“Why did you do it?”

“Because she needed help,” I said, inhaling. He still smelled like Kale.

“No. Not come here.” He tilted his head a bit farther, a lock of midnight hair falling into his eyes. He studied me with clinical interest. “I’m asking why you attacked me.”

“You attacked me first.” My fingers itched to touch his temple where a small bruise fanning from the thin gash had formed. I wanted to trail tiny kisses and apologize for hitting him.

I wanted this to all be nothing more than a bad dream.

“Does it hurt?”

He touched his temple and leaned closer—the movement taking him out of the thin beam of light from the hall and into the shadows of Ashley’s room. When he spoke again, his voice was different. Unlike anything I’d ever heard from him before. It made my legs itch to run, kicking my survival instinct into high gear.

It scared me.

“I feel like…when I look at you—” He shook his head and placed a hand on either side of me, up against the mattress, and brought his face close to mine. For the longest moment all he did was stare. When he did speak, there was so much rage in his voice. “You stabbed me. When that didn’t do the trick, you pushed me from the bridge. I’m asking you why?”

“I never did that, Kale. No one’s ever pushed you from a bridge as far as I know. I promise. As for the scar, yeah. You were stabbed. Alex did it.”

“You’re lying, Kiernan.”

“I’m not. And my name is Dez,” I said, voice cracking under the weight of his words. “Deznee.”

Through my jacket, the sharp jut of an out-of-place spring dug into my skin. Right hand remaining flat to keep me in place, he brought his left up and ran it down the side of my face. A surge of pain ignited in its wake, stealing my breath and nearly bringing me to the ground, a mass of blubbering goo. It was like being pulled apart on the most basic of levels. Cell by cell and vein by vein, the sting worked its way along my skin and in seconds, it encompassed my entire body.

“All it would take is a single touch. I could kill you and it would all be over. No discomfort. But that’s too easy after what you’ve done.” He withdrew his hand and pulled away a few inches. “If you think that hurts, you should consider what it’s like for me not to remember my life. My friends. My family.”

I could tell him that most of the life he had wasn’t worth remembering or that I was his friends and his family, but the look in his eyes told me that at the moment, he was beyond words that might bring reason.

Still, I wasn’t ready to give up, so I went with what had always worked for me. Something insane.

Pushing forward, I crushed my lips to his, wrapping both arms around his neck to lock him in place. He didn’t resist and, to my surprise, didn’t shove me away. Instead, after a moment, he responded, his lips moving fervently with mine.

The kiss only lasted a few moments. I was the one who broke it, pulling away as the clouds passed, allowing the moonlight to shine through the bedroom window once again. For a second, neither of us said a word. His cheeks glistened with my tears, making it look like he’d been crying, too, as he stared—eyes wide and mouth agape—like he’d never seen me before.

For a crazy, insane moment, time froze. I thought maybe the kiss had done the trick. That this time the princess had woken the prince. He looked at me with a mix of shock and awe, the tiniest hint of my Kale gleamed through. My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear anything else. It was there. I could see the spark in his eyes. “Kale?”

But it didn’t last. Or maybe it hadn’t been there at all. Maybe I wanted to see it so badly that I imagined the whole thing.

His lips parted and the corners tilted upward just a hair. “Roz is right. You are crazy.”

I pushed him hard and ran.

Down the stairs, through the living room, and out the still-open front door. I tripped down the icy steps, catching myself just before planting face-first into the edge of the decorative wrought iron railing. My knee skimmed the slush-covered concrete, the fabric ripping—along with a nice chunk of skin—as I dragged myself up and bolted for the car. But that was a no-go. In the moonlight I saw the silhouette of a tall, broad-shouldered figure waiting by the front bumper, so I changed directions.

I slipped into the woods through the neighbors’ yard, following the rock wall as a guide. I was many things—and directionally challenged was one of them. Without some sort of guide and in the dark, there was a good chance I’d get myself lost in the woods—but at least I had some small amount of cover.

“This is more like it,” Kale called from somewhere behind me. The noise his footsteps made in the snow announced he wasn’t far, motivating me to run faster.

I quickened my pace, lungs reaching combustible levels as I struggled to keep up the speed. Before going back to Denazen, Kale had run three miles every day. I’d gone with him once and five minutes in was convinced he was trying to kill me. I hadn’t run since, and at this particular moment, regretted giving it up.

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