Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Atticus
I’m a fool.
A fool with the dumbest luck in the world.
I can’t help but smile.
As much as I’d hoped the red-haired beauty might return, I didn’t think I would ever see her again. Surely, she has better things to do than spend time in an old cornfield with someone—something—like me.
Yet, here she is, following me deeper into the place I call home, her hand in mine. My heartbeat falters as I squeeze her fingers, desperate to reassure myself that this is happening.
She’s really here.
My smile widens.
“Where are we going?” she asks, her gentle voice dancing around me like a song.
I wish I could take her anywhere else. Somewhere romantic where we aren’t surrounded by endless cornstalks, but there isn’t. My curse keeps me confined to the field, my soul tethered to the ground. There’s only one place I can take her, the place I’ve avoided since the night she released me.
“You’ll see,” is all I can say.
When we step into the clearing, we’re bathed in soft moonlight peaking through the clouds above. It’s not much, but it’s enough for Cassie to turn off the flashlight she’s carrying. Her eyes sweep across the clearing, a furrow forming between her eyebrows.
“Is this where I found you?” she asks.
I nod. “The first thing I did was take down the post; I haven’t been back since.”
Her eyes flash to mine. “I don’t mind walking around so you don’t have to be here…”
“It’s okay. I’m distracted as long as you’re here,” I assure her, leading us to the middle of the clearing. I tug my hand out of hers, immediately missing the contact.
As I turn to face her, her eyes light up, sparking unfamiliar warmth in my chest. I hate how much I love what she does to me.
This can only end in heartbreak, but I’ll enjoy every bittersweet moment until then.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” I say, reaching for the top button of my coat. It’ll serve her more than it serves me. “There's no place clean or comfortable here for you to sit.”
She shakes her head. “I'm fine, I promise.”
My gloved fingers fumble over the first two buttons, but I finally manage to get them undone.
“Umm…” she hums as she watches me struggle. “We can talk just as well with you clothed, you know?”
I laugh, my shoulders shaking, and lose my hold on the third button.
“Damn,” I mutter.
If I wasn't so ashamed of what the curse did to me, what it turned me into, I’d ditch the gloves.
However, I don't want Cassie to be more afraid of me.
For her to see me as more of a monster.
“Here, let me help.” She steps up cautiously and reaches for the front of my coat. All my blood rushes south, and my eyes fall to her pale, slender fingers as they make quick work of the buttons.
I try to hide my ragged breath by clearing my throat and quickly shed the tattered coat. What's left underneath is a blue plaid long-sleeve that covers most of my skin.
“Feel better?” she asks.
Not quite.
I kneel to the ground and flap my coat around, shaking any loose bits of dirt free, and lay it flat on the soil. It isn’t very big, but maybe it'll be enough to keep her clothes clean.
I gesture to it. “Sit.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, but she sinks to the ground, getting comfortable. As I take a seat on the dirt next to her, her cheeks turn bright pink.
“Thank you,” she says bashfully.
“You don't have to thank me. It’s the least I can do.”
“Who knew the Watcher was such a gentleman?” She chuckles, and my chest warms. “What is all this for?”
“You tell me.” I shrug and lean back on my elbows. A glance at my worn clothes makes my confidence falter; I look terrible compared to her. An embarrassment. Unworthy. “What did you really come here for?”
She hesitates, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I did want to make sure you're okay, but… I guess I wanted to talk. To pick your brain, to hear about your life before the curse…” Her voice trails off, and I can tell there's more she wants to say.
A soft smile that she can't see curls my lips, and I stare at the side of her face. I could sit here with her under the cloudy sky all night talking about nothing, but she wants to know about me. About my life.
“What do you want to know?” I ask, suddenly at a loss for words.
She lifts her shoulders and drops them again. “Anything. What did you do before you were cursed? What was your life like?”
A dull ache blooms in my chest, the way it always does when I think of the life that was stolen from me. Everything I had, everyone I loved, was taken from me in an instant.
“It’s been so long now, the details have begun to fade…
” I answer, combing through flashes of things I can remember.
“Most men my age settled down and started a family, but not me. I had ten younger siblings to care for, so marriage wasn’t something I worried about. My job was to make sure they were fed.”
“Eleven kids?” Cassie's eyes swing in my direction, wide and full of disbelief. “I guess that was the norm back then, huh?”
I nod. “Most families had many children. More hands to help around the farm.”
“What happened to them?” she whispers.
The familiar tug of worry and disappointment makes my chest heavy, and I sigh.
“I… don't know.” I never saw any of them after I was cursed; none of them came looking for me. Not that I would have wanted them to.
I didn't want them to see me like this.
“I hope they all made it without me, though there's no way of knowing. Jeremy, the next oldest, was a year younger than me. Strong, capable. He probably stepped up and took my place as the man of the house. At least, that’s what I’ve told myself all these years.”
“I’m sure he did a fine job.” Cassie offers me a polite smile. “If you were taking care of them, what happened to your parents?”
“They died from pneumonia.” I take off my hat, setting it aside, and lay flat on the ground with my hands behind my head.
I can't see Cassie as well from this position, but it’s more comfortable.
I stare up at the sky, watching clouds drift by and periodically blot out stars.
“I was eighteen. It was a miracle none of the children caught it. After that, I became the man of the house, working long days to provide for them. Did that for seven years.”
“Seven years?” she repeats. “So you're twenty-five?”
A sigh escapes me. “That does sound better than one hundred twenty-five, doesn't it?”
“A bit.” To my surprise, Cassie lays down next to me, mimicking my position. Her elbow brushes against my arm and I still. “But you never know. Some people are into age gaps.”
Age gaps?
My nose scrunches involuntarily as I try to infer what she means, but I give up. I don't want to embarrass myself by asking.
“I lost my parents too,” she offers after a beat. “My mother is the only one that died though. A car crash took her.”
“I'm very sorry,” I say, shifting my arm to brush my fingers over the back of her hand. “What happened to your father?”
She laughs suddenly, making me jump. “I went no contact a few years ago when his girlfriend threatened to get me expelled from my school. He took her side saying I probably deserved it.”
“He sounds like an asshole,” I say, anger bubbling inside me. How anyone could treat a woman that way—much less their daughter—is beyond me.
Some people are just worthless.
“He is.”
“Do you have any siblings?” I ask, brushing my fingers over her hand again. My nerves have risen up, and I’m too anxious to take her hand again. But the minimal contact is enough.
“No, it’s just me,” she says. “That's how I ended up in Cold Springs. I have my aunt, uncle, and cousin. They're all I've got.”
The next words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. “That's not true.”
Next to me, Cassie shifts, and when I loll my head to the side to see her, I find her staring back at me. My throat tightens at her nearness, and I’m immediately lost in the blueness of her eyes. In the darkness of night, they nearly glow.
“What do you mean?” A furrow forms between her brows, and I fight the urge to reach out and rub my fingers over it to smooth the crease.
I could lie.
There’s no need for her to know what train of thought led me to those words.
But I also know there’s no point in lying to her.
What’s more… I want her to know the truth.
“You have your aunt, uncle, cousin, and now you have… me.”
Silence fills the space between us, and I lose myself in her eyes. One minute passes, possibly an hour, before she speaks again.
“Atticus?” My name sounds heavenly when she says it.
I hum my response, not wanting to ruin the moment by saying anything else.
“I have something crazy to ask you.” She chews her bottom lip nervously, like she’s working up her courage. “But you can say no, okay?”
I smile, a gesture she still can’t see. I can’t think of anything I would deny her at this moment. She’s given me more than I’ve had in a century—freedom and company—so I’m inclined to agree to whatever she wants.
If she’s giving me an option, it’s probably within my control.
“If it’s within my power, it’s yours,” I say, keeping my voice low.
She hesitates, still working her lip between her teeth, then takes a deep breath.
“Can I… see your face?”