Twelve
Kat
Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God) – Kate Bush
“We meet at eight, outside the venue, got it?” Ryland says in his trademark voice of authority that has us all rolling our eyes. It’s not like we haven’t all agreed on the time and fucking longitude and latitude of meeting at least six times already tonight.
“Yes, boss,” Harper says with a military salute, and I bite my cheek to keep from laughing.
I finish wrapping the power cable around my arm before carefully placing it on top of my amp and grabbing my jacket.
“See you at nine, right guys?” I ask with a smirk as I bundle myself into my fur-lined black leather jacket.
“Kat, I swear to god—” I don’t hear the rest of what Ryland says because I’m out the door and into the blustery night.
Rain beats against my face as I fight to keep the hood of my jacket from flying off.
The wind has picked up significantly since we’ve been in the practice room.
Streetlights above sway as the fierce gusts tear through the street.
I swear we didn’t have any weather alerts today.
I dip my head down, pull my jacket tighter around myself, and pick up the pace.
A quick glance at my phone lets me know that the last bus is in ten minutes.
I have to walk quicker if I’m going to make it on time.
My steps feel lighter as I walk, and I can’t help but think it’s because of how much shit I unloaded onto Harper earlier tonight.
I definitely feel better for it, but the sensation of truly letting someone in again after so long definitely makes me anxious.
Harper is a force to be reckoned with when she’s angry, but she has every right to be angry.
I would tear the walls down if the roles were reversed.
I hate that my initial response was to defend him and his identity.
It’s like my body thinks that I’m the one at fault all the time.
I suppose it comes from years of being told that I was.
I remember a time when it wasn’t like that.
When I was who Harper is now. I suppose that’s why I love her so much, because she reminds me of a time in my life when things were brighter—when I was brighter.
Before I met him. Before he slowly chipped away at my entire being, before completely burning me to the ground.
I’m whole again now, not quite a phoenix risen from the ashes, but maybe a charred bird.
I’m not sure if different is always better.
I miss the person I was, but she’s long fucking gone.
The second I can afford therapy, I’m finding one and paying them on a retainer.
Thunder booms in the distance, making my heart rate spike.
The clouds on the horizon look thick and angry, and I know the rain is going to fall harder any minute now, but I’m still so far from the bus stop.
I heave a preemptive sigh and break out into a jog.
My lungs strain almost instantly, half with the cold and half with the fact that I haven’t done more than a walking pace in months.
Thunder rumbles again, closer now, and I pick up my pace, despite the burning in my chest.
I can see the bus shelter in the distance, illuminated by a single streetlight.
But relief hits too soon, and my foot clips something solid.
I hit the ground before I can even register the fall.
My knees hit the solid sidewalk, and my hands follow immediately after.
Both limbs are now screaming in pain and covered in a mixture of stones and blood.
Fuck.
Pain burns in my joints at the impact of my body hitting the solid ground. I stay here for a moment, just drawing in long breaths to keep myself from screaming in both pain and frustration. I roll myself onto my ass, glancing down at my knees, crimson starts to bloom through the denim of my jeans.
Fucking great.
“Kat?” A deep voice comes from behind me.
I swing my head around and see Elias standing in the rain holding a large umbrella. I can’t help the laugh that falls out of me. Of course, he would be here, of all places to witness my very public, very literal fall from grace.
“What are you doing here?” I ask with slightly more frustration than I intended.
“I had some business in the area, I was driving home,” he says, his gaze fixed on me. His piercing blue eyes are almost luminous in the dim light.
“In this part of town?” I say, gesturing to the street covered with trash, graffiti, and boarded-up windows.
He gives me a lazy smirk that lets me know that he’s not going to elaborate or answer my question. He holds his large hand out. I ignore it and roll myself onto all fours before standing up. Pain shoots through my hands and knees, making me wince, and he immediately catches it.
“What were you doing?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing,” I say, brushing off debris from my knees. “I like to sit on sidewalks in the rain. It’s a favorite hobby of mine.” The sarcasm rolls off my tongue so quickly, I’m not even sure where it came from.
He lets out an amused scoff. “You might want to consider conducting this pastime in a better area of town.”
His eyes glance down my body before settling on my knees. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing,” I say, ignoring the growing wetness on my knees that has nothing to do with the rain.
I’ll deal with that later, and it definitely won’t be in front of my very hot, very intimidating boss.
Thank fuck I can’t actually see the blood.
I don’t think I could handle the embarrassment of fainting in front of him as well.
“Kat,” he says again, quieter this time, and the authority in his tone sends something electric sparking low in my belly. “You’re bleeding through your jeans.”
“I’m aware. I have eyes,” I grind out. If Lucifer himself wanted to open up a pit to hell right under my feet right now, I would swan dive into it.
“Debatable,” he says with a wicked smirk. “You did just fall over while jogging in a straight line.”
“Are you always this helpful, or am I just getting the special Elias treatment tonight?”
“Special,” he says the word so quietly I’m sure I misheard. But the electricity shoots lower than my belly this time, regardless.
Traitorous fucking pussy.
Rain patters against the umbrella as he steps closer, close enough that the edge of it covers my head, cutting off the steady downpour that has soaked me to the bone. I hadn’t realized how soaked I was until now.
“I’m fine,” I say, but the words fall flat. I shift my weight and immediately regret it. His eyes travel down my legs before settling on my knees, and I swear I can almost feel the heat of his gaze traveling over my body.
“You’re limping,” he says, his focus shifting back to my face.
“I can stand just fine.” As if to prove a point, I straighten both knees, but one instantly buckles, making me drop a couple of inches before his free hand flies up, catching me by the elbow and holding me steady.
My breath catches at both the fall and the new closeness between us.
For a second, everything stills. Rain, thunder. Breath, thought. All of it.
“You were saying?” he murmurs above me, that smirk back on his face.
“I’m fine,” I say, any bravado I had earlier is waning now. His grip on my elbow softens, but he doesn’t let go or step back. I swear I feel his thumb rub gently against my leather jacket.
“Let me take you home,” he says, ushering me towards his car.
I almost brace myself for the pit in my stomach to open up at the offer—especially after everything with Kirk—but it doesn’t come. But I’m not ready to trust my gut instinct just yet. “No, thank you. I have somewhere to be,” I gesture my head to the bus stop behind me.
“That bus?” he nods toward the stop, and I turn around to see my bus pulling away from the curb. The taillights fading into obscurity, leaving me fucking stranded.
“Yes, Elias, that bus,” I say, throwing my arms up in frustration.
“I wasn’t exactly sprinting for fun, you know?
” I let out a slow breath, tipping my head back as rain patters against the fabric of the umbrella.
Perfect. Just fucking perfect. I stare at the spot where the bus pulled up twenty seconds ago as if it might magically reappear if I look hard enough.
“You weren’t sprinting successfully either,” he says with a wicked grin.
“Thank you for that.” He huffs a quiet laugh, but it fades when I don’t match it.
My brain is running too fast right now. I’m seven miles from home, and I can’t walk.
I know there’s another bus that goes to a different part of town, but I’d have to walk half a mile and change buses between.
I already know I’ll be limping the whole way, which isn’t ideal.
A cab would be easier and faster. But then I remember the number that was staring me in the face when I looked at my bank account this morning.
Not happening.
“You can’t just stand here all night,” he says, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Watch me.”
“Kat,” he says, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“I can drive you.” The offer comes easily, and it should be an easy solution.
I’ll be home in fifteen minutes, and I can put this whole shitty evening behind me.
But it’s not that easy, it never is. Something old and instinctive curls tight in my chest, making my heartbeat sound louder.
But the feeling doesn’t form in the way it normally does.
Am I losing my instincts, or is this what passes for trust in my brain now?
The fact that I’m not sure definitely complicates things.
“I’m fine,” I say, defaulting to the excuse through instinct. “It’s not far.”
“Let me take you home.” He’s moved impossibly close now.
I didn’t even realize there was space still left between us, but apparently there was.
I shake my head, stepping back slightly, putting the fraction of space between us back into place.
“Alright,” he says, stepping back, but the hand that holds the umbrella doesn’t move, still keeping me sheltered. “I’ll call you a cab.”
My stomach knots immediately. “No, that’s not—”
“I’m not asking.” Before I have a chance to protest any further, he slides his phone out of his pocket and taps a few times before tucking it back again. “Three minutes.”
I hesitate. The feeling that’s currently sitting heavy on my chest is foreign. A dark part of me expects him to want something from me, but from the look in his eye, I’m not so sure. There’s no expectancy there, just what looks like concern.
“Thank you,” I whisper, admitting defeat and dropping my eyes to the floor.
Stillness settles between us for a few moments.
The heavy rain has now softened to a heavy patter against the umbrella.
The streetlights flicker faintly above us, casting everything in that same dull, golden haze.
I’m suddenly very aware of how close he’s standing.
The heat radiates off him despite the cold as our chests almost touch.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.
“I’m n-not,” I say, but the shiver that runs through me betrays my words.
“Here,” he says, shrugging off his suit jacket before draping it over my shoulders with one hand.
“I’m fine,” I state as I try to wiggle out of the jacket, but he holds it firm against my chest. My breathing stutters at the feeling of his knuckles against my breastbone. Even through my thick jacket, the heat radiates through the fabric and settles right into my chest.
I try to speak, but my mouth runs dry. I lick my lips, and his eyes track the movement. His vibrant eyes turn hooded, and I’m about one move away from fully hyperventilating at this fucking point. The mist from our breath coils together in what little space there is between us.
“Thank you,” I whisper. I clasp my hands around the jacket, holding it close to me.
I expect him to let go, but he doesn’t; he just pulls me ever so closer so that our chests are just barely touching.
The chill that I felt just moments ago is replaced by searing heat at each point of contact.
His breath fans against my face, and his scent overwhelms me and scrambles my brain.
My chest rises and falls, pressing further into him without even meaning to.
My mind is telling me to drop this jacket and limp away as fast as I can, but every fibre of my body is pulling me towards him like a gravitational pull.
“Kat,” he breathes, and the sound of my name on his lips like this sends delicious sensations pooling low in my core.
The beam of headlights coming down the street, along with a ping on Elias’s cellphone, slashes through the moment.
“That’s my ride.” I cringe at myself for the cliché of it all as the cab slows to a stop in front of Elias’s car.
I move to shrug out of his jacket, but he holds it tight. “Keep it,” he says firmly.
“Thank you,” I say as I take a step towards the car. “I’ll see you later.”
A flicker of something passes over his face before he steps forward and pulls the car door open before I can.
“Text me when you get home,” he says. My breathing catches in my throat as he leans towards me, half inside the car.
My lips part as he takes the seatbelt and pulls it around me, clicking it softly into the holder.
Every nerve ending in my brain is scrambled and on fucking fire.
He’s so close I can see the pulse in his neck pumping faintly beneath his perfect skin.
There are droplets of rain falling from his long hair onto my jacket, and I have to fight the twitch in my hand that’s about two seconds away from running through his hair.
I blink up at him. “I don’t have your number,” I blurt out. It takes every remaining ounce of focus to keep my voice steady.
“It’s in the jacket pocket,” he says with a lethal curve to his lips, gesturing to the black suit jacket currently saving the poor cab driver’s seat from the mud and rain on my ass.
I barely have time to think of a response before he pulls away. I instantly feel the loss of him. “Goodnight, Kat,” he says finally before shutting the door.
He leans in through the passenger window, and I see a glimpse of a hundred-dollar bill being passed to the driver.
My mouth hangs open slightly and doesn’t close until we peel away from the sidewalk.
I look back to see him standing in the middle of the road, watching me leave.
He’s still standing there as we turn onto the side street, and it’s at this point that I realize I’m still clutching his jacket like it’s my only tether to this world.
What the fuck happened tonight?