Fatal

by T. A. Brock

He nodded, unashamed.

  That was so…creepy.

  “I wanted to make sure you got home okay,” he added gruffly.

  That was so…sweet.

  “Oh. Well, I’m, umm, good. So…” Why was he here? Should she ask him?

  Before she could decide, he answered her question as if he’d plucked it from her mind. “I want to have lunch with you again,” he barely mumbled. “Tomorrow.”

  “Okay, sure. We can sit with Peg—”

  “No. I don’t want that. Just you.” His eyes went to hers, almost a challenge.

  “Grayson, I really can’t keep blowing off my friends. And besides, I’m pretty sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like it if she found out you were—”

  “My girlfriend?” he interrupted.

  “Yeah, the girl from the cemetery. Wasn’t her name Rain?”

  Green eyes went wide for a moment, his surprise clear. “Raina is my sister,” he said. “Not my girlfriend.”

  “Oh.” Relief swamped Cori as she realized she was glad—very, very glad—that Raina was only his sister.

  Grayson, however seemed troubled. “Why would you think she was my girlfriend?”

  Because you were holding her and consoling her and I figured you’d only be like that with a girlfriend or a sister—and because I’m an idiot, sister never even crossed my mind.

  “She just seemed like…your type,” was what she said out loud.

  “My type?” He was shaking his head and looking at her so strangely. “Not even close. I prefer a much different…type.” When had he stepped closer? And why were his eyes suddenly so dark? Sultry, they were sultry. And hypnotic. Would she tumble into them maybe, if she kept looking?

  “My mistake,” she said, her voice sounding too breathless. After a second, she realized what was wrong: that tugging feeling was back, stronger this time. So intense that her head felt like a weighted balloon, airy but heavy.

  “Are you okay?” Fine lines furrowed his perfect brow. That only happened when you were concerned. Was he concerned about her?

  Suddenly, Cori felt as if the ground buckled under her, and she had to grip the doorjamb in order to stay upright. Like a lightning strike, his hand shot out to steady her, and as soon as he made contact with her arm…it all went away. The spinning heaviness just…gone.

  She looked at him. “Yeah. I’m fine. Too much ice cream probably. This is my second carton.”

  Frowning, he took the container from her hands. “You should sit down.”

  She tried to protest. “No, really. I’m okay.” But he was already herding her over to the porch swing. He made sure she was sitting and then backed away, as if dizziness was contagious.

  Grayson peered into the container of ice cream like it was pureed liver instead of chocolate-chip-gooey-goodness. “You shouldn’t eat this if it makes you sick.”

  Cori rolled her eyes and stuck her hand out, wiggling her fingers. “I’m not sick. Give it back.”

  He hesitated, regarding her with narrowed eyes, but finally surrendered the Ben and Jerry’s. He stared as she took a few more bites.

  “Want some?” she offered around a mouthful. After all, she didn’t want to be rude.

  His eyes seemed to grow heated again…and were they greener? What was up with him? Then, in a breath, his face closed up and he shook his head as if to clear it.

  “About tomorrow,” he said. “Lunch?”

  Cori was glad she had a mouthful of ice cream to get through before answering because she had to think about it. She really wanted to help Grayson, wanted to break through his defenses and get to know the guy underneath. She loved that he was finally ready to say bye-bye to his loner days. But she really liked Peg and Rex and Aiken. And if she kept putting them off, they’d probably give up on her. The only fair thing to do was give them equal time.

  “I have to sit with my friends tomorrow,” she said eventually. “I can’t keep telling them no.”

  “You mean, Aiken. You can’t keep telling Aiken no,” he said a little too calmly, like there was something hiding there under all that smoothness. The tone of his voice put her on edge.

  “What does that mean?”

  Grayson shrugged, a shrewd look on his face. “It means whatever you want it to mean.”

  “Aiken’s my friend just like Peg and Rex and, well, you if you want to be.”

  He crossed his arms over his broad chest, making them look even bigger than they actually were and stared her straight in the eye as he said, “No. Thanks.”

  Cori’s mouth hung open as his words bit her. Should’ve known the nice wouldn’t last.

  She stood up because she hated how he was standing over her. “Why are you doing that?”

  “Doing what?” His voice was harsh. A cold winter when minutes ago he’d been tropic.

  “Why are you being rude again? I thought we were past that.” Her words were strong but inwardly she was trembling.

  “I’m just being me.” He smirked. “Sorry if you can’t handle it.”

  Oh, he didn’t know the depths of the things she could handle. He had no idea. The fact was, she was sick of having to “handle” everything. For once, couldn’t things just be easy?

  “I can handle it all right,” she said, suddenly very tired. “I just wish I didn’t have to.” She walked past him to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Grayson. Maybe you’ll be in a better mood then. Maybe you’ll have lunch with us.”

  “Don’t count on it,” he spat.

  She nodded, feeling heavy in the worst way. “Okay.”

  Cori went in, shutting the door behind her. Suddenly her pillow sounded like a great idea.

  Grayson watched the door shut, all the time wondering why it felt like more than a couple sheets of wood had come between him and his Save. He wanted to hit something; he needed to hit something. But instead he went around the side of the house to look in the window like the creep he was.

  In the kitchen, Cori chucked her ice cream in the trash. She stood there staring at it for a while as if she wanted to dig it back out. But she didn’t. When she ran both hands down her face and stared up at the ceiling, he saw the wetness on her cheeks. She was crying again. Was it because of him? The thought left him feeling cold—in a bad way.

  It hadn’t been his intention for things to get ugly tonight. After talking to Leiv, he’d just wanted to see her again. Talking to her at lunch and then at the river had been the highlight of his day. But also, he’d wanted to see if she’d gone out with Aiken. He hated to think of what he would’ve done if she had. Mostly though, he’d wanted to see her. He was drawn to her—had been since the first day. He didn’t like to admit what that might mean, but there it was nonetheless.

  He’d never meant to make her sad. No, he wanted to make her happy, wanted to make her laugh, like at lunch.

  Cori went over to the refrigerator and wrote something on the dry erase board that hung there: G’night mom, Cori. Then she left the room. Grayson ran around to peek in the living room window. She was there, clicking buttons on the TV remote. The screen went black. She switched off the lamp and started for the stairs.

  Grayson looked at his phone: nine thirty. She was going to bed early again.

  He watched until she disappeared up the steps.

  He should do something. It wasn’t right for her to be sad, especially because of him. He shouldn’t have been so…so…jealous. He’d been jealous. Because she’d chosen her friends over him. Jealousy. It was an emotion he couldn’t ever remember feeling.

  This was wrong, all wrong. She wasn’t going to cry tonight, damn it. Not because of him. And not because he couldn’t handle his own crap. He would fix it.

  Before he knew it, Grayson found himself in front of that door again, knocking.

  Chapter 14

  The Flip of a Coin

  CORI HAD JUST CLOSED her bedroom door when she heard the knocking for the second time. It had to be Grayson. Who else would it be? She didn’t feel like talking to him any
more, so she ignored it. Her bed, her refuge, was calling, and she was going to answer the call before the tears got the best of her again. If she could just fall asleep before her mind set to thinking about things…

  She cut the light and climbed into bed, not bothering to change out of her slouchy sweats. The knocking started up again, louder this time, demanding, but she knew he’d go away eventually. And he did.

  Cori pulled the covers up and willed herself to go to sleep.

  But sleep didn’t come. No, instead her mind assaulted her. Right then, she really wanted her dad. She wanted to tell him about Grayson and ask what she should do. Should she just give up on him? It wasn’t what she wanted, but if he wouldn’t let her in…if he was determined to be a callous jerk…

  Her dad would have known what to do. She was so much like him, but he’d known so much more about life. And now he’d never be able to teach her.

  The tears came again.

  It was still early. She could call Peg, but they hardly knew each other and Cori didn’t think it was fair to test their new friendship with all her troubles.

  Actually, the truth was she didn’t want to face anyone.

  She was tired of being alone, and yet she couldn’t stand being with anyone. It was a problem. There was one person she wanted to spend time with. But he was so hot and cold, it was next to impossible. And he’d said he didn’t want to be friends. She wondered if he really meant it.

  The tears fell harder, not the sobbing sort, but the kind of constant stream that came with long term agony. Yes, she was too used to this to sob anymore. Now, it was just quiet crying, even if it was in great volume.

  At least she was alone and no one could see her crying like this. They would automatically think she was weak. And she wasn’t. She’d just been through too much in too short a time. The junk built up inside all day and then it all came out at night like some type of cleansing. She’d be all better in the morning, ready to face another day.

  But for now…there was crying.

  Cori heard the front door open and knew her mom was home. Maybe if she’d stayed up a little longer, they could’ve talked. But then, Mom was in the same boat she was. Any attempt at talking was usually unbearably awkward for both of them.

  So she pulled the covers tighter and waited for sleep to come. In the meantime her mind kept thinking of Grayson. Why was he so hard? She knew there was more to him than his cruelness—she’d seen it in the way he’d acted with his sister. She wished there was someone in her life to console her like that when she was distressed. She wanted that comforting voice telling her it would all be okay, even if deep down she knew it never would be.

  More tears. More agony. More silence.

  Until her door cracked open.

  No. Mom couldn’t see her like this.

  She sat up, ready to sweep the tears away and spin a really good I’m-too-tired story. But then it turned out to be worse than she expected.

  “What are you doing here?” Her voice was embarrassingly tear-soaked and trembling, which covered up her shock.

  Grayson was standing in the doorway, eyes solemn, mouth grim. She couldn’t believe he’d just walked into her house. Hadn’t she locked the door? Probably not—she often forgot. Stupid!

  She went to wipe the telltale wetness from her eyes.

  “No, don’t,” he said, rushing forward. His tone was enough to halt her hand halfway to her face.

  When he reached her, his fingers went around her wrist—they were so careful—and pulled her hand away from her face. He went to his knees by her bed. They made a loud thunk against the wood floor.

  Cori was stunned, and she knew her eyes were probably huge.

  “These are my tears—because of me,” he whispered raggedly. “I’ll be the one to make them go away.” She couldn’t believe the emotion spilling off of him when he’d been colder than ice only a bit ago.

  Slowly and deliberately, he released her wrist and brought his hand up to her face. Ever so gently, his thumb swiped her tears away—tears that were still falling. A strange look came over him when he pulled his hand back. He just stared at the wetness, rubbing his thumb and fingers together in circles. Then he squeezed his eyes shut as though he were pained. When he opened them, he looked directly at her. Cori’s stomach clenched. His eyes were so tender, so foreign.

  “I’m sorry,” he grit out through clenched teeth. “I’m so sorry.” The tone was harsh, exactly opposite of his eyes, and she didn’t fully understand it.

  She blinked and another volley of tears cascaded down. Immediately, Grayson went for them. He was even more careful this time, his hand barely more than a whisper against her skin. And yet, it felt so significant to her, heavy almost, in its intensity.

  Her eyes kept leaking. She couldn’t seem to make them quit. And with each new rivulet came another brush of his fingers. “I’m afraid they won’t stop,” she mumbled, shakily, trying hard to sound normal.

  “It’s okay.” His eyes locked on the place where his fingers touched her face. “I’ve got all night…if that’s what it takes.”

  This made her let out a single nervous laugh. And more wretched tears.

  “I mean it,” he told her. “I’m staying until you’re not sad.” And more wiping.

  Didn’t he know that would take so much longer than one night?

  Cori pressed her lips together which drew Grayson’s attention to her mouth. “Really, there’s no need for—”

  “I was wrong, earlier, and I’m sorry. Cori…I’m sorry.” She could never know how much. Words weren’t enough to describe his remorse. Her tears were tearing him up inside. They smelled like the ocean, carried the same sorrow the ocean carried in with each new wave. And when he’d first touched them, his cells had sucked up the liquid just like they would water. But instead of refreshing him, it had seared him down to the soul. It burned, scalding hot. But he would take the pain.

  He deserved it.

  “It’s okay, really. Like I was saying—”

  “I was jealous,” he blurted. He needed to tell her, to explain himself. “I was jealous because you chose your friends.”

  Her brow furrowed until there was a tiny crease between her eyes. “Why?” It came out a broken whisper.

  This was the part he didn’t want to tell her because it didn’t make much sense. But he owed her the truth. “I wanted you all to myself.” Her eyes went wide at that bit of information, her face flaring red—and still, she was crying. He caught the drops with his knuckles as they fell from her cheeks, his skin doing its job absorbing them and making them part of his being. Inside, he felt the burn of her grief anew.

  “It can’t be like that,” she said quietly.

  He knew that. Oh boy, did he know that. He wasn’t even sure when he’d started wanting it to be like that, but he did. It was like that conversation with Leiv hadn’t ever happened. As if he would start pretending, living a lie just to be with her.

  Why couldn’t he be normal? Right now, it felt more important than ever. Because if only he was a normal guy, then…

  He nodded because he couldn’t get his voice to work. Whatever he wanted didn’t matter because she was telling him no. And why shouldn’t she. He was awful and she knew it. He’d done nothing to disprove that fact. And most of all, they didn’t make sense together. It was as he’d thought from the beginning: they were ill-matched. Except she wasn’t the problem; he was.

  Cori swallowed hard, her tears beginning to dry up. Her face was hot, but it was a sweet sensation against his palm. He couldn’t pull his hand away even though it was no longer needed.

  “Relationships don’t work like that,” she said carefully, almost like she was afraid to say the words. “If…if we are gonna be—” Her voice cut off, leaving him hanging like cat off a tree branch. The word “if” resounded over and over like a chant in his mind. What was she saying? Did she want to be closer to him, the way he wanted to be with her? Did she feel the draw, the pull, as strongly as he
did?

  Oh, how he wished she didn’t. But oh, how he wished she did. Two sides of the same coin. If she flipped it, where would it land?

  Grayson knew he should leave right then, before she finished. He should get up and walk out and never speak to her again. He was bad. An abomination. And she was sweet and sensitive and good. She was good, he knew it. He would ruin her if she let him. She was his Save after all, it was her destiny. Unless he could make himself stay away from her.

  Looking into her soft blue eyes and hanging on her every last word as if it was his life breath, he didn’t think he could. How could he?

  Her mouth was parted just a little, warm breath escaping and taking the chill from his skin, their faces were so close. His thumb found her full bottom lip—it was effortless, his hand was already caressing her cheek—and went back and forth over the soft surface. He desperately wanted to taste her lips. Watching her eat ice cream had been downright unbearable. But he couldn’t kiss her with his mouth. He wouldn’t infect her or hurt her, and she wouldn’t know he was different, but still. Her mouth was too perfect. It would be akin to an angel being kissed by a demon.

  There had to be a way. Maybe if he was good too…he wouldn’t ever be like her but maybe he could try to atone for what he was. Somehow.

  I’ll be better, he thought. I can do better, try harder. When she nodded, he realized he’d said it out loud. But he couldn’t take it back. What had been meant as a silent promise was now a declaration. And really, that was okay because somehow he knew he would always try to be better for her. Maybe one day he would be able to leave her alone. The day would inevitably come when he would have to tell her what he was or leave her—but today was not that day.

  Just then her eyes fluttered and a shy smile curved her lips. “Does this mean you changed your mind about being friends?”

  “If you couldn’t tell, I’m not very good at the friend thing. It’s why I have such a friend deficit.” He hadn’t changed his mind at all—he had no interest in being her friend. He wanted more.

  You don’t deserve more.