Come to Me Quietly(74)

I kissed her forehead, unable to understand this girl. “You’re beautiful, Aly.”



She snuggled into my side and I held her closer, listened to her breaths as they slowed and evened, her heartbeat a steady thrum against my ribs as she drifted off to sleep. I got lost in it, lulled by it. Finally I let go and closed my eyes.

Sleep teased along the edges of my mind, a murky haze taking hold. Colors flashed. In defense, I squeezed my eyes tighter. But the inevitable came. Helplessly I watched as trails of blood made a distorted path down one side of her face. My chest convulsed and I was sure it was fire that pricked and singed my flesh.

“Jared,” she mumbled.

So badly I wanted to cry, but no tears would come, like they were locked inside with the fear and the pain.

She looked so sad. So sad and so scared.

But still she managed to smile.

A soft hand came to my face and moved down to cup my neck. “Shh,” Aly whispered. “Wake up, Jared. You’re shaking. It’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay.”



My eyes flew open to meet the pitch-black darkness of Aly’s room. Sweat drenched my body, and ragged breaths rasped from my lungs.

Aly pulled me closer and placed a kiss just below my ear. “It’s okay.”



I crushed her to my chest, my frantic heart pounding against hers. It wasn’t f*cking okay. It never would be. But just for a little while, I wanted to pretend it was.

We lay together, curled up as one, and I fell asleep again and slept like I hadn’t for so, so long.

Faint light seeped through the window, and I awoke to find Aly sleeping in my arms. Her hair was spread all around us, the length spilling out behind her and a few wayward pieces crawling across my chest. I pressed my nose to her hair and breathed her in. One of her arms was draped across my chest, her flawless skin a striking contrast against the colors marring mine.

The pure and the impure.

Guilt seeped all the way to my bones.

I kissed her head and untangled myself from her hold. Pausing at her door, I listened to the silence on the other side, before I slipped out into the main room. Christopher’s door was closed. Who knew what time he’d come in last night? I sure hadn’t heard him.

Guess I’d been otherwise occupied.

I flopped onto the couch. A tangle of emotions surged through me. Mainly it was guilt, but simmering beneath that was something that felt… good.

Really good.

I resisted a smile when I thought of Aly falling asleep in my arms. I itched to return to her, to climb into the warmth of her bed and her spirit, to sink in and never let go.

Instead I grabbed my notebook and a pack of cigarettes and headed out the sliding door to the balcony. Morning threatened at the horizon and I slid to the concrete floor. Lighting a cigarette, I took a drag and drew it deep into my lungs, then released it toward the sky.

Shaking my head, I pulled my notebook onto my lap. I thumbed through to the back. The pages were thick, tattered, words scribbled and bleeding together in savage chaos.

Except for the few pages where she lived, where in my words she was more than just a fantasy and I had brought her to life. I turned to them and lost myself there.

Two hours later I sat on the couch beside Christopher. He was playing one of the video games we used to play years before. He’d staggered from his room about thirty minutes ago, looking about as disheveled as I felt. It was early, and I had no idea why he was up since the guy tended to sleep half the day away. He’d grunted a “good morning” as he slumped to the couch and flipped on the TV in the same motion.