Sweet Evil (The Sweet Trilogy #1)(89)

“What do you want from me, Kai?”

“For starters?” His voice lowered to sexy, dangerous depths. “I want to introduce myself to every freckle on your body.”

A powerful shiver ripped through me.

“So, just something physical, then?” I clarified. “That’s all you want?”

“Tell me you hate me,” he demanded. I felt the air of his words against my face.

“But I don’t hate you. I couldn’t.”

“You could,” he assured me, pulling me tighter. “And you should.”

“I’m letting you go.” My voice shook. “But only because I have to. I need to move on with my life, but I’ll never hate you.”

“The one who got away,” Kaidan murmured.

“Nobody got away,” I corrected him. “And so help me, if you start comparing us to an unfinished game that went into overtime—”

He released me and I stumbled back a step. I had to get away before I started clinging and begging him to admit his feelings, whatever they might have been. It was necessary to rip off this Band-Aid, and fast. So, as I’d done at the airport, I walked away from him, dragging my heart behind me. I didn’t look back. Game over.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

HOLIDAY CHEERLESSNESS

I’d seen people with depression. I’d been bowled over by the hopelessness that sank the air around them. Murky storm clouds as heavy as sandbags.

I carried around a gloomy cloud of my own after Halloween. It was far worse than when I’d returned from California. Each day I tried to rein it in, reminding myself there was always hope. Hope for the earth, hope for humanity. Just not hope for Kaidan and me.

I dealt with the pain by shutting down. The more time asleep, the better. I missed school a few times, just to lie in bed. Failed a major test. Lost weight. But I knew time would heal the ache, and everything would be okay. I could move on. I would come back to life. Eventually. But not yet.

Patti made my favorite things on Thanksgiving: sweet potatoes with marshmallows, corn pudding, key lime pie. I knew the spectacular spread was meant to lure me out of my hole. It was just the two of us. On past Thanksgiving mornings we’d worked the food bank, and then celebrated dinner with Patti’s church friends, but we couldn’t be caught doing those things now.

Patti chattered away about nothing, placing a heaping plate in front of me. She tried to fake it, but she wasn’t happy these days either. I watched her cut a slice of turkey and take a bite.

“Anna, please eat.”

“I’m not very hungry.”

“That’s because your stomach’s wilted away to nothing.”

I busied my mouth by taking a sip of water.

“That’s it.” Patti threw her napkin on the table. “I’m calling Kaidan. I know this has something to do with him.”

Her words poked me to life. “No!”

“Then I need you to pull yourself out of this,” she said. “It’s gone on long enough. For goodness’ sake, Anna! If I thought medication would work for you, I’d have taken you to the doctor already. You can’t give up. You have to continue putting effort into everything, especially school.”

“School is...” I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.

“School is still important,” Patti insisted. “And so are you. There’s no floating through life; you have to stay alert. Your life has a purpose. Whether you’re called on to fulfill that purpose today or when you’re a hundred, you’ve got to be a productive part of society between now and then! Do you think I’m going to let you lie in bed for the next however many years?”

I shook my head. She was right. I had needed the past month to mourn, but it was time to try to get back to my life.

I eyed my plate and took a small, tentative bite of sweet potatoes. Flavors and scents brought back strong memories. The rich sweetness filled me with a longing for the love and comfort of my childhood. When I looked up at Patti, tears were leaving warm trails down my face.

“I’m sorry, Patti.”

“Sweet girl.” She choked up and came to me. As we hugged and cried together, I let myself feel all of the things I’d been avoiding. It was more than the insecurity of never knowing how Kaidan felt. It was about the unfairness of life as a Neph.

When I was growing up, Patti and I had done this thing every Thanksgiving where we’d take turns going back and forth saying what we were thankful for. Each time it became a longer competition, neither of us wanting to be last. It came down to the silliest details, ending up in fits of laughter. As we clung to each other now, I couldn’t help but be thankful for her.

I walked to the parking lot with Veronica and Jay on our last day of school before Christmas break. A cool wind blew, and I zipped up my jacket. We’d been taking turns driving to school. Today was Jay’s day.

He unlocked the passenger door from the outside and yanked it open with a creak. I wrestled with the lever to lean the passenger seat forward. It finally popped and the seat flew into the dashboard. I climbed into the back. I wasn’t sure when the switch had happened: me in the back and Veronica in the front.

As the line of cars crept out of the parking lot, we passed Kaylah and her group of friends. Kaylah wiggled her fingers at Jay and he lifted one hand from the steering wheel.