I need to go. I think, deep down, Jack knows that, too. That’s why he gave in, promising not to make my leaving any harderthan it’s going to be. Because, no matter what he believes, this is the best thing for me. And maybe, when I do get back, things will be even better.
They certainly can’t get any worse.
With Rory’s jacket a comforting weight on my shoulders, I tuck Denise’s sweatshirt under my arm and heft up my backpack and sleeping bag. I glance around Stacey Finch’s bedroom one last time, promising that I’ll see it again.
I will. I mean, if I could survive a flaming that stole my twin from me, I can survive any fucking thing.
I head out through the front. If I hadn’t been anxiously nibbling on my thumb nail, already thinking ahead to my first steps out of the Grave, I might’ve realized that was a mistake. Going out the back might’ve been smarter. It’s closer to Grove Avenue and more private, but the front door… that’s just the one we normally use so that’s what I did.
I don’t realize my mistake until I tug in the door and nearly stumble into the back of a sandy-haired man sitting on the edge of my porch, knees up, arms hugging his legs as if warding off a chill.
My breath catches in my throat. My teeth click as my mouth closes quickly. A heartbeat later, I swallow back a muffled curse.
It’s Chase.
As the sound of the door closing behind me reaches him, my twin’s fiancé rises up from his crouch. It’s a slow wobble, nothing like his usual athletic grace. In fact, his legs nearly give out, hand reaching for the nearest post to steady himself, but I can’t tell if he’s weary, tired, or just took a wrong step.
Then he turns, searching for me, giving me a good look at his face. I suck in a breath. His eyes are bloodshot, red-rimmed and glassy; his carelessly tousled hair from yesterday is mussed and messy, like he’d spent hours running his fingers through the short length anxiously. There’s the stubbled beginning of adarker beard along the edge of his jaw that makes it look like he forgot to wash some dirt off.
Overall, he looks like shit. More than that, he looks like he didn’t sleep at all last night. And if he did? He did it while sitting on the porch, waiting for me to finally leave the condo.
I think back to yesterday. Shit. That’s the same shirt he had on at the high school, isn’t it?
Run, Xandra, I tell myself. Run back inside, dash out the back, escape the Grave?—
Chase sighs. His gaze is locked on my face, sadness in his eyes. His voice is dry and cracked as he softly utters my name: “Alexandra.”
It’s my full name, too.Alexandra. Four syllables, and I feel like I’m in more and more trouble with each one. Who knows? Maybe I am. Closing my eyes for a moment, I take one shaky deep breath.
Why me? This… this wasn’t supposed to happen. I made sure to say my goodbyes to Jack last night. He’s the only one I owed that to. That should have been it.
And, fuck me, I should’ve known better.
“Chase.” A gulp. A frown. My fingers tap anxiously against my jeans. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I had to come.”
Maybe he did, but he shouldn’t have. “Don’t try to talk me out of it,” I tell him. Way I see it, there’s no reason to beat around the bush. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going.”
“Xandra, don’t—” He’s quick, or maybe I’m too slow. Chase closes the gap between us in the time it takes me to glance away, grabbing my wrist in my hand as if he thinksthatwill somehow keep from me from leaving. “Don’t go.”
I swallow my sigh.
He’s not demanding or forceful. The uncertainty is what makes it worse, that and the pleading in his voice.
“I have to. If I can kill that many lurkers, then maybe I’ll?—”
I stop there. My words fail me, or maybe it’s the way he’s standing so close to me. The heat from his fingers warms me up from the inside out. We’re too, too close, and as Chase watches me intently, I don’t try to pull away. Not yet. He’ll be nothing but a memory once I leave the Grave. What’s another second before we break apart?
Just one more…
“Then let me come with you.”
I expected that. “You can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because the Grave needs you,” I tell him honestly. It feels good not to lie to him for once, even if I’m talking to his chest because I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. “Because you’re one of the best trackers they have and you know how to destroy lurkers better than anyone else here. Thirty-eight kills since July? That’s got to be some kind of record.”
