She was the lover, the bright side, the beaming heart that squeezed and pulled apart like a plaything. And he was a Heathen, the opposite of Fable Sullivan in every way.
Our hearts were broken for two very different men we could never be with. How did both of us end up here at the same time?
Fable steadied herself, bracing palms on wobbly knees, fawn hair tangled, lips shaking. She cried out, mumbling incoherently, looking up at me with bloodshot, miserable eyes the color of two worthless pennies. It was a look I’d never seen on her before. This look wore its own set of lungs and bellowed pain.
I imagined her years from now with a cold heart shaped like mine ... hopeless ... and shallow, and I would remember the night Phoenix’s death stole the light from her eyes. If this was what happened to a good person, what would losing Stone do to a murderer like me?
“Fable, please. It’s freezing. Let’s go inside,” I insisted.
Fable shoved me in the chest. “WHY DIDN’T YOU DO ANYTHING?!” she screamed, her lips trembling with a wet face. I stood shocked and benumbed. I didn’t know what to do. “I love him, Adora. I’m in love with him,” her voice was hoarse and raw, heartbreak outspoken. The force behind it took her to her hands and knees until she was lying in the snow on her side.
If my misery outweighed my anger, I was certain this would be me: screaming, crying, and throwing up until all suffering drained onto Seaside Street. The sight looked to be entirely freeing. Perhaps this was why people let their tears run wild, no matter who was watching. To expel it. To not hurt anymore.
Shivering, I pulled the hood over my head and knelt down, then tucked my legs inside my coat before lying next to her.
Under and around me, the snow slowly melted, soaking anything not shielded. Even so, I endured it and held her close.
When Fable was twenty-one,I thought,she watched him die...I carried her up the drive, and as before, we never made it inside. Grief held her in the cold, so she curled up in the snow. And I slept beside her so she would not be alone.
I looked at the night sky, counting stars with my teeth chattering.
The cold was a low murmur in my ears, and Fable’s cries dimmed into a hum.
Snowflakes drifted down from above, flicking from side to side like paper-white wings against a black canvas. Stone’s hair, Stone’s eyes. I watched the night, thinking of him. Always thinking of him.
I hadn’t realizedI’d fallen asleep until my eyes opened again.
A mountain of blankets was piled high and wrapped around me.
It was dark, and the wind softly howled each time it blew past.
Cyrus was sitting on the porch steps against the side of the house, huddled in a thick winter jacket and staring at me with penetrating eyes. I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were on this night because everything was dark, but I knew they were intense because I felt them. He had an arm thrown over a knee, a rigid expression, his jaw flexing. The cherry from his cigarette glowed when he inhaled, and a cloud of smoke slipped between his lips.
Fable shifted in my arms when a fifth hand squeezed mine.
I lifted my head, finding Ivy sleeping on the other side of Fable.
I looked back at Cyrus, and his face softened.
We didn’t say anything to each other.
Sometimes words were too much.
And sometimes words would never be enough.
CHAPTER 41
STONE
A stabbing painshot through my brain, waking me.
It worsened instantly from a throbbing migraine into what felt like scorched nails driving through my temples. I threw my head back into the pillow, my fingers curling into fists, every muscle stiff to fight it off. But the searing sensation coiled around every bone in my skull.
I pressed my hands against my head as an animalistic scream belted from my throat. It didn’t sound like mine, but rather like the sound a screeching buck would make as a wild mountain lion gnawed on its spine.
Another burn—like a torch held up to exposed nerve endings—and my eyes squeezed shut as I sank my fingers into my scalp, pulling my hair and keeling over, wishing to flee from the searing pain.
Gravity pulled me off the couch, and my ribs slammed into the floor.
