Chapter 13 CALLAN #2
I had asked her once, during our many late night conversations, and she said it was a secret. And I had wondered ever since what kind of secret made someone cling to a fabric.
She was staring at a couple taking pictures under the lamp post just a few steps away, a distant look in her eyes. Then, as though she sensed my presence, she turned the moment I stepped out of the car.
She smiled, small and cautious, like she was contemplating.
“You came,” she said the moment I reached her.
“I said I would.”
She studied me for a second too long. Then she lifted her hands, cradling my face in her palms, her warmth seeping into my skin. My breath stilled at her feverish touch, my heart racing, pounding loudly in my ears, knowing what was coming next.
She was going rise to her tiptoes, tug my face down until our noses brushed, her presence crowding my thoughts, her floral scent filtering into my lungs.
My breath would stutter as her seductive eyes ran over my face, dropping to my lips, my bones trembling as though my body never learned this part no matter how often she did it.
And then, my heart would cease to beat as her lips would press against mine, warm and sure.
I would freeze for half a second before melting into it, hands hovering uselessly at her side like I was afraid to do it wrong.
She would kiss me for a while, maybe five minutes, maybe an eternity.
Time never behaved itself when her mouth was on mine.
By the time she would break away, release me from her spell, I was already unravelling, trembling, needing more, another dose of that fire, even though I was already burning…everywhere.
We had only met four different times after I became her boyfriend. And she always did this.
Claimed me.
“You look so tired.” My face was still cradled in her hands, her thumb running over my jawline, the other smoothing out my eyebrows, brushing my lashes…all over me, like she was memorising me.
“Just slightly,” I whispered, leaning further into her touch before I realised I was doing it, my body responding faster than my thoughts.
Something warm stirred low in my chest, spreading, even to places I barely thought of.
It always did every time she touched me, unfamiliar and unsteady, not quite a want, not quite a need.
I didn’t know if it was simply my body’s reaction to the awareness of her, of how close she was, of how easily she could undo me if she tried.
I didn’t move. I didn’t know how.
I only knew I loved it when she touched me.
“My pretty boy,” she whispered, her gaze soft as she caressed my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
My brows knitted. “For what?”
She sighed, her hand dropping to her side, and I almost grabbed them, just so I could return them to my face.
“I shouldn’t have pestered you into coming.” She glanced behind her at the building, then turned back to me, hand raised to tuck a loose strand behind her ear. “I could’ve been a little more patient.”
“You were patient,” I whispered. “You waited for four days.”
Her lips curved gently, a ghostly smile touching them.
“Shall we?” I asked, giving her my hand so willingly. She took it, and her skin was warm against mine, steadying me as my heart began to race again.
I couldn’t really remember what the inside of a theatre looked like. I was five the last time I entered one. That was about 27 years ago. I didn’t watch movies. Though I had an idea what it looked like. I did create an image of it every time I read a book with a movie theatre scene.
It didn’t look like a foreign land when we entered. For some reason, the dimmed lights, the low conversation buzzing in the air, and the scent of popcorn. They all felt so familiar.
We took our seats, and the preview of the movie, I assumed, flickered into the screen. She leaned toward me, her arm brushing against mine, her body heat licking at my skin.
She whispered something about the scene on the screen, but I didn’t quite catch it. She said a joke I didn’t hear, but smiled anyway.
Then a sudden pressure began to press into my head, words warping and distorting.
Twenty minutes or less in and the dialogue on the screen began to lag, music swelling too loud, then too quiet.
The screen flickered brighter than it should, whites burning at the edges.
My vision suddenly tunnelled.
“Want some?” she asked quietly, raising the white and red striped popcorn pack to me.
“No.” I shook my head, hiding the strain in my voice. Zaghan was coming. He wasn’t waiting anymore. He was trying to force his way through.
I glanced down at Elizabeth, my chest tight as the tip of her finger trailed phantom lines on the back of my palm.
The action drew a soft gasp from me, electric jolts weaving down my spine, crackling beneath my veins.
My gaze shifted to her face, to see the girl rearranging my insides with a simple touch. But her attention was on the screen, her green eyes streaked with grey, green, and blue as they reflected the gaudy colours on the screen.
I didn’t know how long I stared at her for. Maybe long enough for her to notice, as she turned to me, brow raised daintily.
“You alright, Snow White?” she whispered, her tongue darting out ever so lightly to swipe at the crumb of popcorn on her lower lip.
“Yeah.” The lie came out easily, too easily.
My left hand had gone cold, numb. I flexed my fingers, pressing them into my palm until it hurt.
Pain helped, sometimes. But this time, the pressure didn’t recede.
It crept up my spine, coiled at the base of my skull.
It was a familiar tightening, a presence pressing forward, violent, impatient now.
‘Not now,’ I whispered to a ghost who never listened to me. ‘Please,’
I forced my attention back my side when I felt a sudden weight. She was leaning against me, her head resting on my shoulder. Her hair smelt like strawberry and a hint of citrus. The scent enveloped me, an anchor. But anchors only held for so long, right?
“Hey, are you okay?” She lifted her head suddenly, her hand resting on my chest. “Your heart is like…pounding so fast.”
“Yeah,” I forced out, my teeth nearly chattering. “I need…” air scraped through my lungs. “I just need to use the restroom for a second.”
She pushed away fully to get a better look at me. A familiar emotion flickered in her eyes. “Do you want me to come with—”
“No.” The word came out harsh, too sharp, a tone I would never dare to use on her. “I’ll be right back.”
I stood before she could argue, the murmurs from behind us swelling, bent out of shape, as my shadow briefly swallowed the figures behind me.
The world tilted, edges warping, sound thinning until I slammed the theatre door shut behind me.
I didn’t know how I made it out. The only thing I remembered was the air burning my face, and my body folding into the car like it had done this before.
“Glenfallow,” I said, my hand curled, fingers pressing into my palm. “Hurry.” I added as the pressure crested, hot and relentless.
My trembling hand slipped into the pocket of my coat, returning with my phone. Fingers hovered over the screen, fumbling for the right key to hit, until I could finally pull up her name.
‘I have to leave.’
‘Something urgent came up.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Please, don’t be mad at me.’
‘I promise I’ll call you as soon as I can’
Those were the words in my head. Those were the messages I wanted to send to her. But my vision began to tunnel at a point. I wasn’t really sure what my fingers ended up typing before I switched off the phone.
Zaghan was coming. He refused to wait a little longer. And all I knew was, I needed to be home when he slipped out. I needed walls, familiar ground, and control.
I couldn’t be careless and leave anything behind for him to find. No traces of her voice. Not her scent. No warmth clinging to my clothes.
Zaghan must never meet Elizabeth. Not now.
Not yet.
Not ever…I’d find a way to make sure that never happened.
I would break our pact if I had to. Seal him off completely. I would not let him take this one away from me.
Elizabeth was mine.