14. Don’t Let Me Go
14
Don’t Let Me Go
“Hit me.”
This isn’t exactly what I expected him to say when I woke up at 8:00 a.m. after getting five hours of sleep. We woke up in the exact same position we fell asleep in, his eyes opening almost as soon as mine did. I thought he’d want to get breakfast.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
He doesn’t want breakfast.
He wants me to punch him in the face.
Indeed, he’s been asking me to attack him for the past fifteen minutes, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Here I am, in a crappy motel room, in front of a very well-trained fighter, wondering if hitting him in the face would break my wrist.
When Haze said he wanted to show me something, I never would’ve thought that I’d end up here, fighting with him about not fighting him. Why did he suddenly decide to show me how to be a ninja? God only knows.
I’m assuming it has something to do with the clock and its incessantly rapid ticking. The fight’s tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
Let that sink in, Winter .
“Seriously? You want me to hurt you?” I look up at him, and his eyes soften under my gaze.
“Nothing you do will hurt me as much as they’ll hurt you if you don’t learn basic self-defense, Winter.” He blows out a breath. “Do you want to be some damsel in distress? No? Then prove it.”
His challenging tone seems to be enough for my pride to take over. “Fine. But don’t go crying when I kick your ass.”
“No promises.” He smirks. “Now, what are the weak points again?” The playful expression in his face dissipates as quickly as it appeared.
“Eyes. Nose. Neck…” I pause, trying to remember the last one. We’ve been at it for almost three hours. He’s taught me so many moves I can’t feel my arms anymore. I learned how to disarm someone pointing a gun at me, exactly how and where to kick a man—if you know what I mean—and how to get out of someone’s grasp.
“Seriously?” he reprimands. “Knees. It’s not that hard to remember.”
I rub my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m exhausted.”
“Do you think they’re going to care if you’re exhausted? No, they won’t think twice.” He clenches his fists.
“Well, excuse me, but it’s hard to be in fight mode when I’ve barely had five hours of sleep. You’ve taught me more moves than I can count. I think I’m good. Can’t we just take a break?”
“No. You won’t be able to take a break when they’re trying to kill you. Can’t you see how important this is? One wrong move, Winter. One, and you’re dead.”
Dragging my feet, I make my way to the door. I can’t be around him when he’s like this.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he calls.
“Outside. I need some air.”
“The fight’s tomorrow. Who knows what could happen then? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He seizes my arm, stepping in my way.
I scoff. “You want to ask questions? Fine. Here’s one for you. Why the hell do you care so much?”
Only then do I realize my anger has made me step dangerously close to him. His gaze immediately drops to my lips.
Well, shit .
I move away, the heavy tension back to torture me. We all know what happened the last time we were too close. It’s like the closer we get, the harder it is for me to think clearly.
“Because…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he takes a step forward, bringing us back to the position we were in seconds ago. My mind screams to walk away. But my body is refusing. When I find myself locked in his breathtaking gaze, I’m brought back to the moment we shared on the beach. He doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t need to. His blue eyes say more than a thousand words ever could.
They say, “Push me away. Tell me to stop. Tell me it’s wrong before I run out of self-control.”
I don’t say a word.
And silence is all he needed to hear.
My heart bursts out of my chest when he cups my face in his hands and crashes his lips on mine. I immediately give in to his eager and familiar lips, steadiness a foreign concept to my hammering heart. He kisses me with this fervent need that could drive any girl insane.
This time is different.
This time, he’s not holding back.
He’s hungry. No, he’s starving . I said this could never happen again just a few hours ago. I should want him to stop. So why…
Why is it the last thing I want?
Our bodies collide as his hands travel from my hair, to my neck, to my waist, unable to stay in the same place for too long.
My brain isn’t strong enough to go up against my desires. My hand tugs at his hair as he backs me up against the wall roughly. I can’t stop a moan from escaping my mouth when he bites my lower lip, his fingers creating a trail from my arm to my collarbone. They stop on my tank top strap and slide the light fabric down my shoulder.
He leans forward, his mouth grazing my clavicle and sending a wave of shivers throughout my entire body. My fingers fall to his shirt. I can’t want him. I can’t want this. But I do.
I really, really do .
Just as I’m about to pull the fabric up…
Knock! Knock!
We jump and pull away like we’ve been caught committing a crime.
“Housekeeping!” a female voice says loudly.
We exchange the most awkward look possible. The “we just came back down to earth after a wild, breathtaking, and extremely hot make-out session and now it’s weird” look. It’s like falling from a cloud and hitting concrete.
Haze clears his throat and fixes his shirt. He is as overwhelmed as I am. I pull my tank top strap up, struggling to regulate my breathing. He answers the door, says something I can’t hear to the maid, and comes back.
“Checkout’s at 11:00. It’s 10:45. That’s their way of telling us to get the hell out.”
I can’t tell what he’s thinking. I keep my head down and walk toward the bed to gather the few belongings I had on me last night.
What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t believe I let it happen a second time. But most importantly, I can’t believe I want to do it again.
“Yeah, we should go.” I remember the text messages my cousin sent me last night. He’s coming home at one, and he’s literally going to kill me, then bring me back to life, then kill me again if I’m not there.
“Kendrick’s coming home in two hours. He’s been training all morning.”
Haze nods, reaching for his keys in his jacket pocket. “We’ve got a fifty-minute car ride ahead of us. Come on.”
Is there anything more awkward than spending fifty minutes in a car with a guy you were intensely making out with barely an hour ago and having to pretend it never happened? Probably. But right now, it doesn’t feel like it.
Haze and I haven’t said a single word to each other since we left the motel. He’s cold. Distant. Exactly the opposite of how I’d expect a guy to be after a kiss like that.
“Shouldn’t you be training, too?” I break the silence, unsure if I want to know the answer. The fight is tomorrow. I have no idea why he’s here with me.
“I didn’t exactly have time.”
“Yeah but you could’ve left early to train. Why didn’t you?”
I’m dying to know what’s going on in his head. Why did he kiss me? What does any of this mean?
“I had other things on my mind.” I know what he’s talking about right away and wiggle uncomfortably in my seat.
“Not at all worried about the fight, are we?”
“Nope.”
The coldness in his voice makes my blood boil. What’s his problem? I look ahead of me and see my house from afar. Maria’s at work. Only Kassidy’s car’s in the driveway. No sign of Kendrick anywhere. Thank God.
Haze kills the engine. He doesn’t move. I don’t either.
“You wouldn’t actually…” I pause. “Kill him, would you?
He doesn’t bother looking at me. “Not unless I have to.”
Of course he couldn’t be a decent guy and say, “No, of course not. I care about you and so I won’t kill your cousin if it ever comes to that. Peace out .”
“What do you mean? We’re talking about my cousin’s life, and you’re telling me that you might kill—”
He cuts me off. “What the hell do you want me to say, Winter, huh? That I’ll cancel the fight? That I’ll go gentle on him for you? Why? Because we made out a couple times? I don’t owe you anything. He’s nothing to me. He’s an enemy. That’s all. I don’t know who you think I am. But I’m not that guy who goes soft for some chick he just met. I’ll never be that guy.”
His words feel like razor blades tearing through my flesh. His sudden change of tone and the anger radiating out of him renders me speechless. I clench my fists, a burning pain spreading in my chest.
“Is that why you went out of your way to get my trust? Why you kept showing up at my house and texting me for the past month? Because you’re not that guy?” I shout. “Or maybe that’s why you kissed me? Because you don’t care?”
“I don’t. I don’t care, Winter. I don’t care about you or Kendrick, or anyone else,” he barks. “It was supposed to be fun. Nothing else. You weren’t supposed to…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, rage flowing out of him profusely. “I don’t need you to guilt-trip me, okay? You knew what you were getting yourself into.”
I’m confident that my eyes are bloodshot by the time he finishes his sentence. My emotions are at war. Anger, hatred, sadness… I can’t seem to decide which one’s going to win.
When I look at him and he denies me eye contact, Bianca’s bitter words creep into my head: “You think you’re so special, don’t you? That you’ll somehow be that one girl who makes him fall in love? News flash: you’re not. And in the end, he’ll get sick of you. Because guess what? You’re not different. Or special. No one is .”
She was right. Kendrick was, too. All along.
“So, it’s true, huh?” My words catch him off guard.
“What?”
“I’m a game.”
He doesn’t answer, looking down.
“I’m a way to hurt Kendrick.”
No response.
“Say it.” I raise my voice, holding back the tears to the point of pain.
“Winter, you’re only hurting yourself even m—”
“Say it,” I scream as loud as I can.
“Fine,” he snaps. “It was a game. All of it. I wanted to piss Kendrick off and make you fall for me so that I could see the look on his face when I told him that I fucked his precious cousin. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
My heart splinters into a million pieces.
If the maid hadn’t stopped us, I don’t know what would’ve happened. If no one had knocked on the door, I might’ve removed his shirt and…
I don’t even want to think about it.
God, I’m such a fucking idiot .
“You say your biggest fear is to end up alone,” I say, my voice trembling. “Well, you sure are good at pushing everyone away.”
I shake my head and rush out of the vehicle, slamming the door loudly. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t try to stop me. But at the same time, he said everything.
His silence did.
Silence is not just the absence of noise. It’s the absence of possibilities. Possibilities of second chances and forgiveness. In the end, what hurts the most is not what people say. It’s what they don’t.
Silence puts an end to the endless cycle we put ourselves through. To this never-ending torment that they call “hope.” Hope that it will get better. Hope that you’ll find your way back. Hope that you’ll get a happy ending.
Because you can’t forgive someone…
Who’s not sorry.
Haze’s black car takes off in a roar almost as soon as I step out of it. I keep walking, refusing to watch him disappear although every fiber of my being is begging me to.
I step onto my porch and insert the key into the hole. Just as I’m about to unlock the door, someone beats me to it, opening it from the inside. I come face-to-face with the last person I expected to see.
“Will?” I try to find a reason for his presence at my house this early. “What are you doing here? Kendrick’s at Alex’s?”
Shock occupies his eyes. He seems nervous, stressed. One thing is certain: he was not expecting me.
“Winter, hey.” He speaks rapidly. “I forgot something here. I had to pick it up before training.”
“Oh. Okay.” I force a smile, trying to ignore the painful pit in my throat and the tears begging me to let them out.
“See you later,” he says, walking around me and making his way to his car that’s parked on the other side of the street.
Well, that wasn’t weird at all.
As soon as I’m alone, I collapse on a chair and let the tears roll down my cheeks as I bury my face in my hands like a pathetic mess.
You’re such a dumbass, Winter. You did this to yourself .
I have no idea what I expected. That he actually cared about me? That he was texting me every day and showing up at my house because he liked me? It all started with a deal.
“Are you okay?”
I jump and look up. Kassidy is standing in the kitchen. I completely forgot she was home. She gives me a look I know so well.
Pity.
I wipe my eyes. “I’m fine.”
She arches an eyebrow and sits down next to me.
“You’re not fine,” she whispers. “What did he do?”
I’m a bit surprised by her tone. She’s not judging. Neither is she criticizing. That’s new. I would’ve expected her to be super hard on me after what happened at the dinner. I hesitate, mentally battling myself on whether or not I’m ready to share the story with her. Or anyone.
“Winter, please. Let me be there for you.”
Then I can’t hold back anymore. The story spills out of me like a never-ending waterfall. Kass doesn’t comment. I tell her everything. I tell her about the rooftop, the pool, the beach. All of it. She nods and chuckles at the funny parts throughout the story. I tell her about all the things that got me to where I am today. To being one more pawn on Haze Adams’s chessboard.
To being a game.
“He didn’t mean it,” she says. “He’s afraid, Winter. Typical boy.”
“Afraid of what? That I caught feelings and he didn’t?” I scoff. I refuse to let her get my hopes up.
“No, dummy.” She pauses and sighs like she’s wondering why she has to be surrounded by idiots. “He’s not afraid because you caught feelings. He’s afraid because he’s feeling it, too.”
To say this simple little sentence didn’t amplify my suffering by a thousand would be a big fat lie. The last thing I want to hear right now is that he didn’t mean it. I want her to tell me he sucks. I want her to tell me I’ll be okay.
That I’ll get over him and his stupid blue eyes.
“Oh shoot. I’m late for my shift. I have to go. But please, call me if you need anything, okay?” she asks, giving me a quick hug. “Oh, and don’t text him. Let him be alone with his lies for a while. Might be exactly what he needs.”
I watch her walk out of the house in a hurry and enter the bathroom. I step in the shower, standing completely still under the hot water for a couple of minutes. The last words she said before closing the door echo in the back of my mind.
“Never underestimate a man’s capacity to run away from something he’s afraid to want.”
I feel it infiltrate my thoughts. It’s small and faint, but it’s enough to tear me apart like it never left. I bury my face in my hands, my wounds opening all over again.
It’s back.
The cruelest part of it all.
The hope.