Of the Trees(65)

“What do you remember?” he asked, turning and facing her on the couch. He brought his knee up, it grazed her leg. Her hand flitted up, her fingers stretching out in midair before she curled them into a fist. He frowned at her, and she took a breath, placing her hand firmly on his knee. He started in surprise but didn’t back away.

“Not much,” she answered, but she was shaking her head at the lie she told, staring imploringly at him. She patted his knee with her hand and lifted one finger, tracing letters on his thigh. He shifted uncomfortably, staring at her, obviously thinking she was losing it because when had she ever touched him like this? But she kept tracing the words, over and over.

Later.

I’m lying.

Later.

He frowned, looking from her mouth, where she was telling him that she woke up in the hospital, a complete mess with no memory, to his thigh where she was telling him not to believe her. In the end, it was her eyes that did it, pleading and begging him to understand. He nodded and mouthed the word “Later,” and she sighed in relief.

The flood of panic was coming, she felt it rising up. Her mother strode into the room, preceded by a loaded tea tray. Cassie jumped when she saw her. Cathy Harris stopped, her face blank. Cassie pulled her fingers slowly from Ryan’s leg, and he cleared his throat, shifting back on the couch.

“Maybe I should—” he started, and the panic blinded her. Her hand shot out, gripping his forearm hard.

“Don’t go,” Cathy murmured just as Cassie begged, “No!” She felt her fingers dig into his arm, knew she was probably hurting him, but couldn’t let go.

The whispers started again, slow and quiet, from the inside of her skull. They were deceiving, like the slow rustle of dead leaves in a soft wind, but they were persistent, louder and louder until they were roaring and Cassie couldn’t hear anything but them.

Gone.

She’s gone.

You will never see her again …

Ryan’s arms were around her suddenly, gripping her fiercely. Her mother was there, hovering in her vision as something sinister shouted at her, blurred her vision with roiling dirt and roots that pulled and sucked and consumed. Something bitter was placed on her tongue, and she was told to swallow, her mother’s voice soft, but firm through the chaos. Warm tea flooded her mouth, and she sputtered but swallowed, washing the bitterness away.

Gone.

Never see her again.

The tears were hot on her cheeks, and she felt herself being pulled into Ryan’s chest. Cassie went willingly, burrowing her face into the soft cotton of his shirt. Warm fingers smoothed the hair from her face, but she couldn’t tell if they were his or her mother’s. A wave of dizziness overcame her and her fingers curled with brutal force into Ryan’s shirt.

“Hush, baby,” her mother’s voice spoke, low and soothing. Cassie could only just detect the panic there. Hands rubbed soothing circles into her back and her breathing hitched. “Sleep now.”

Not unless you want to …

Cold dread washed over her, and she shut down, clamping her fingers into damp cotton, pressing her face against the fast beating of Ryan’s heart. She gave in to the drowning rush of whispered taunts.





The light was soft and warm when she woke, she could sense it, even with her eyes closed, and Cassie shifted, inhaling deeply. Someone had tucked her comforter around her; she could smell it, even pick up the whiffs of lavender from the last time Laney had slept over. Her chest caved in at the realization, and she lay quietly, ignoring the lavender. Something else, warm and musty, floated around her, and she burrowed into it, tensing when what she was lying on shifted underneath her. She blinked in surprise, bringing the page of the book that was a couple inches from her nose into focus.

“You awake?”

His voice, husky with disuse, rumbled from his chest, and Cassie stiffened, her mouth falling open. She clenched her eyes shut in embarrassment, not yet ready to sit up from his chest. His arm was still around her, and she felt his hand drift under the comforter, his fingers gently stroking her back.

“I am so sorry,” Cassie whispered, clearing her throat when her voice cracked. She felt, rather than heard, his chuckle. There was a soft thump as he placed his book on the end table.

“It’s no problem,” Ryan assured her, squeezing lightly. He brought his arms up in a stretch, and she heard his joints pop.

“What time is it?” she asked, bringing her head up. Ryan shrugged, smiling down at her. “Do you have your phone?”

“My battery died hours ago,” he said, nodding toward the book. “Your mom lent me that.”

“Hours ago?” Cassie gasped, sitting up. “I’ve been out for hours? I’m so sorry! You should have left.”

“Well, I tried,” he said, pulling her back into the crook of his arm. “Especially after your dad came in, it got a little awkward.” Cassie groaned, turning her face back into his chest. He laughed softly, his fingers smoothing her hair back from her face, lingering with warm intensity on her exposed neck.

“You started freaking out again when I tried to get up,” Ryan continued. “Your dad tried to take you, but—”

He broke off and Cassie didn’t dare try to make eye contact. She cringed into his chest instead, safely where he couldn’t see her. She didn’t remember a thing. His fingers pressed lightly against the column of her throat, stroking the skin there almost absently. “I don’t want to know the rest, do I?”