“It’ll be interesting to see what comes ofthat.”
“Maybe a little toointeresting.”
Skyla emerges in a pair of black leggings and Gage’s old practice sweatshirt from our football days at West. Just looking at Cerberus’ ugly three-headed mug on her chest brings a crooked smile to my face. She whips her hair into a ponytail and nods for me to follow her out the door. I give Gage a quick wave, and he falls back on the bed, his eyes close before he ever hits thepillow.
Skyla and I are off—let’s hope my balls survive theeffort.
* * *
Skyla leads us straight downstairs,past the heavy argument Tad and Lizbeth are engaged in, past Mia and Melissa’s squabble over a hairbrush—that one of them is threatening to shove up the other’s ass, past a giant beast of a dog that I only vaguely recognize, and out into a fresh burst of powder white Paragonfog.
Skyla throws her arms back and turns her face to the sky, a wide smile spreading across her face as if her freedom were newly issued, and in a way it has been, temporarily atleast.
“I love the way Paragon kisses me. First kiss of the new year. First day outside inweeks.”
My own smile quickly fades as I try to wrap my head around the idea. “You mean you haven’t left the house in amonth?”
Her expression sours as she leads us down to the street. “It hasn’t quite been a month. But it’s crazy, right? I mean, people literally lose their minds staying cooped up like that, and believe me, in that house in particular, the odds of being sane are never in yourfavor.”
After the melee I just witnessed in that one small thirty-second microcosm, I’d have to agree. But seeing that I’m walking a fine line, the last thing I’m going to do is insult herfamily.
“Ha.” She gives a tiny laugh, half-hearted at best. “I heard you. My powers are fading, though.” I look down and marvel at the fact we’re not touching. She takes a moment to rework her ponytail until her hair is in a bun.I love Skyla with a bun. Hell, I’d love her bald. Did you hear that? I love you, Skyla Oliver.I pump a smile and wait for a response, but she bends over and tightens the strings on her tennis shoes, and I can’t tell if she didn’t hear or if I’m still in thedoghouse.
“Doghouse.” She stands up straight and gives a quick wink. “I know you love me, Logan.” A cloudbank of fog bursts between us as if Paragon herself has something she’d like to insert regarding our love. She can save it. This island doesn’t have a right to something so sacred. “I know you love me in a lot of ways, but not in the way I would hope. Even if you won’t admit it, I know you love Gage just a little bit more.” Her crystal eyes sharpen over mine when she saysit.
There it is, the slap in the face. Her bitter words penetrate to my marrow and poison my blood—toxic enough to kill me, that is, if I wereliving.
“No.” I can hardly get the word out. I take a step in, closing the distance between us. “A thousand times,no. I love youmorethan him.” It’s true. I’m not sure how it’s possible because my love for Gage is infinite, but I know this to be true. “I wanted to protect you. I was a fool not to tell you, but if I did, it would have hurt you more in theend.”
“Ugh!” She tosses a hand in the air and walks away, fading into the mist. “Stop being soobstinate.”
“Stop being so stubborn,” I bark as I run up ahead of her, jogging backward just to keeppace.
Skyla lets out a grunt, shaking her head at just how obstinate I can be. “You’ve gotnerve.”
“And you’ve got to listen.” It comes out with far more fury than it ever does pleading. “If you knew the facts, we could work with them—make them ourbitch.”
“Why would you need the facts to be your bitch, Logan?I’myour bitch, remember?” She hits her stride with a light jog, and I take up the position besideher.
“Don’t talk like that. You’re the love of my life. Mywife.” There. I said it. “I still see you that way, Skyla. I would bend over backward for you, crawl through blood, kill or be killed. I would die for you, my queen, and I did.” The words come out sharp as knives. A poem dipped in ashes and soot. I never was good at sweettalk.
She flits her irritated gaze my way and stops short, already panting out of breath, and we haven’t even cleared the next driveway. “You’re aliar,Logan. You always have been—always feeding me half-truths just to appease me. If that’s any indication of your undying love for me, then you must love me about as much as you loveChloe.”
“I’m too tired to fight with you. Whatever you’re doing with Chloe, it’s going to backfire spectacularly in your face. Shit. I fully expect it to. I’ve been watching you long enough to know there’s no other way.” My stomach clenches when I cast that barb without meaning to. If I could only take it back. There are so many things that I’ve allowed to happen to the two of us that I would gladly takeback.
She stops cold. Those steely eyes of hers pierce into mine with sorrow and pain and outrage all at once. “I think I’m going to run.” Her cheeks pinch bright pink when she says it. “I think running might be better. How about I run to the end of the block and you time me?” she pants the words through an open mouth, her face straining as if begging for mercy before she everbegins.
She’s closing me off, putting our argument on the shelf for the time being. Skyla has a gift of carrying her grudges and her arguments and dividing them, compartmentalizing them for later, and for whatever reason, I’m okay with it. I don’t think I could take her anger all at once. It’s too hot under the white light of her fury. I can’t take theheat.
“All right, as your coach, I say move it.” I clap my hands as she takes off, legs already kicking wild, her arms jamming down like hammers as she takes a few gyrating steps forward. She hits the middle of the block and stops cold, bends her head over her knees like she might vomit. A dry laugh pumps from me as I catch up toher.
“Youokay?”
“No, I’m not okay. I’m never getting my body back.” She squeezes her eyes shut tight as she straightens. “At this point I’m not too sure I care. I need sleep, Logan.” She latches onto me without warning, and my body adheres to hers. Skyla lays her full weight onto me. Her warm breath heats my chest, and it feels like heaven. “I’m taking us to Whitehorse.” She wheezes into my chest. “I think I can.” Her head writhes from side to side. Skyla is delirious with fatigue. “We’re just going to lie in bed a minute. I’m gonna try to get somesleep.”
The world around us fades in and out like a bad dream as we land on a soft mattress. The walls around us form, and the room is suddenly familiar. Skyla hasn’t landed us at Whitehorse, far from it. We’re in my old bedroom at Barron’s. Skyla has been in my room hundreds of times. It makes sense. This is where her mind equates mybed.
“Did I do good?” Her body curls into mine, but she doesn’t bother opening her eyes to inspect thesurroundings.
