Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Kai
Ican’t put my sheer anguish into words right now. The last time I felt even remotely close to how I’m feeling right now was the first time I visited my sister after my death. But somehow, this is a thousand times worse than that.
I lift her and gently set her down on the brown plush sofa in the living room, then sit on the ground in front of her, rubbing her forehead. Her eyes haven’t opened since I pulled her against me. I grit my teeth at the sight of tears cascading down her cheeks.
I’d be lying if I said I was totally cool with this. No, I want to pry. I want to know everything.
For starters, I need to know what the fuck happened to her midnight-blue wings.
Earlier, when I watched her embrace the rain with open arms, I rejoiced in the warmth of her smile.
Now, her pain is my pain.
With Cleo, I find myself not wanting to run away, which is shamefully uncharacteristic for me. Instead, I’m drawn closer to her.
Our emotions are tangled in a web I don’t want to escape from.
It’s terrifying.
But it’s also everything.
Something pivotal has shifted between us tonight.
I can’t believe she thought I left her for good… I mean, I considered doing that for a millisecond just because I assumed her afterlife would be ten times better without me in it. I screw everything up anyway. But after tonight, it’s clearer than ever that we’re both in this together.
She shared that this place triggers her, too. What is triggering about this lake house? It must remind her of something from her mortal life. I can’t help but wonder if this may be part of the reason she refuses to visit this realm for leisure.
The chattering of her teeth snaps me out of my spiraling mind and sets me into motion immediately—she needs a damn blanket. This old, quiet little lake house is way too drafty.
Okay, I know, I know. Angels can’t get cold, but my girl’s trembling, and although I’m 99 percent sure she’s having an emotional reaction to something, there is a 1 percent chance she’s freezing. I’m not taking any chances.
I rise to my feet and turn to walk away when a hand grips my wrist firmly. “Please don’t leave.”
“You’re stuck with me. Sorry, not sorry. I’ll be right back.”
I lift her hand to my lips and kiss it. All the while, her eyes are still closed.
She doesn’t say anything. She releases my hand and nods absentmindedly, her cheeks still wet.
I walk upstairs and spend a whole two minutes considering grabbing the master bed’s entire comforter before deciding the lake house owners must have less bulky blanket options available somewhere.
Upon reaching the foot of the stairs, I check the hallway closet.
Sure enough, I spot a few knit blankets. Thank heavens.
I grab a couple and shut the wooden door, heading back into the living room when something catches my eye.
I step closer to the dining room wall to get a closer look and notice carved markings in the trim.
They’ve been painted over, but they look like height measurements.
I run my fingers along the marks, my eyes fixating on them.
While running my fingers over the marks, I notice letters carved into the wood, too.
I squat and squint my eyes, attempting to make out the writing.
Finally, after what feels like an hour, I figure it out. With a smug expression on my face, I settle on the letters:
C. G.
Must be initials. Running my fingers over some of the other marks, I pick up some of the others.
J. G.
S. G.
And of course, C. G. again.
I get goosebumps I didn’t know angels were capable of getting, and my breathing grows more rapid.
Is this really just a coincidence? It can’t be, can it?
C. G.
Cleo Graves.
My jaw drops in perfect synchronization with the blankets in my arms as I take a step back.
“And you make fun of others for their theatrics,” a quiet voice mumbles from behind me, causing me to nearly stumble. I turn around in a flash, facing her.
“When did you get here?” I ask, still rattled. She’s leaning against the wall, crossing her arms. She seems to be holding it together a bit better than she was a few minutes ago.
“I witnessed your full-length investigation of the carvings.” She breaks my gaze to peer at them behind me. “Impressive work, detective.”
I shrug. “It wasn’t much. The layer of paint is pretty thin if I’m being real.”
She suppresses a smile. “Did you figure it out?”
I swallow subtly and gesture toward the carvings. “Are we looking at little Cleo’s height measurements right now?”
She exhales a deep breath and stares at them like she’s contemplating how much to tell me.
Finally, she nods slowly.
“You’ve been here before,” I say, matter-of-factly.
She nods. I gaze at the wall again.
“You’ve been here several times before.”
Again, she nods, staring into my eyes.
Without thinking, I bend and pull her into my arms for the second time tonight, unable to help myself. At first, she resists my pull, but then she folds into me, wrapping her arms around my sides. I rest my head atop hers and calmly breathe in and out.
“I get it now,” I whisper into her thick dark brunette locks, grasping her nape with my hand. “Are you ready to talk about it?”
Her breathing slows.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready,” she whispers.
“What about them?” I incline my head to the other markings, lower than the C. G. markings. “Do you want to talk about them?”
A beat of silence passes, then she leans harder into my chest, nodding.
“That’s my girl.” I grin with a sense of pride and lead her back to the couch after gathering the blankets I dramatically dropped earlier—she’s right, you know. I’m going to give Stephen a run for his money when it comes to this whole acting gig.
Keeping my hand on the small of her back, we sink into the couch together. Surprisingly, rather than leaning away from me, she leans into me and rests her hand atop mine, tracing circles into it.
“What do you want to know, Kai?”
“Well, I’m an open book. Hell, considering you were my Watcher, I assume you know all about my life.
You know Iris, Jasper, and Truman. You know about my parents.
My ex. My baseball career. My death. And guess what?
” I pause, picking up her legs off the ground and settling them on top of my thighs, tucking us under the blanket together.
“I feel like I hardly know anything about you. Yet somehow, you still consume nearly all my thoughts.”
She shifts her weight.
“Let’s start with the basics. Did those other measurements belong to siblings of yours? Tell me about them. You know I’m all about sibling bonds.”
She presses her lips together in a soft smile.
“The ‘J’ stands for Jonathan. He was only three years younger than me and two years older than my little sister. Being sandwiched between two hormonal girls was no easy task, but honestly, he handled it so well. We lived through so much of my life together; it’s hard to remember a time when he wasn’t right there by my side.
We learned how to paddleboard together on the lake.
We stayed up late telling each other spooky stories with ominous flashlights under our bedsheets.
He was always the most artsy of the three of us—while I spent all my free time dancing, and my sister spent hers in sports, he spent his with a sketchbook and pencil in hand. ”
She looks up at me, tears brimming in her eyes. “Jonathan went on to become an animation artist for some really popular cartoons. He even freelanced some book covers—I have one of his books up in the Middle Realm. I actually stole it from the library. How could I not?”
Her pride strikes a chord. I understand the feeling. Iris has no idea how genuinely proud I am of her. Something tells me Jonathan isn’t aware of Cleo’s pride, either.
“It’s cliché, but Sadie was special. She was the kind of girl people gravitated to without even knowing. A true athlete at heart, she participated in tennis and volleyball. She was also an exceptional swimmer—she swam laps around my short self in the lake every year—”
Every year.
They visited this lake house annually.
“—We had different tastes in music, movies, and celebrities, but that’s what made our conversations so invigorating.
We challenged each other constantly, and despite how tumultuous our relationship was at times, I’m better for it.
Because of Sadie, I’m able to fully respect other people’s opinions while staying true to my own beliefs.
She may have been younger, but she taught me as much—if not more—than I taught her.
She went on to be a Realtor. She’s always been a people person. The role is only fitting.”
Cleo beams as she talks about her family. I find myself not wanting the conversation to end. Hell, I’ve fallen so hard that she could talk about a vacuum and I’d be fully invested at this point.
“I was the oldest sibling—like you.” She pauses and literally boops my nose.
This girl is maddening. “I didn’t have quite as much time with my siblings as you had with Iris.
I died when I was only twenty-three, leaving them alone to fend for themselves.
After my life ended, I could’ve chosen to guard one of them as a Guardian, but I couldn’t fathom only helping one without the other, so I passed, hoping the Guardians assigned to them could help them more than I could. It was selfish of me. Cowardly—"
She pauses, her throat bobbing as she shakes her head.
"—I was supposed to take care of them until we grew old and gray, but I failed them. I would’ve given them the world if I could. I’d give anything for the outcome of our story to be different.”
She’s right—I died when I was twenty-seven. I had a few more years with Iris, and I still didn’t feel like even that was enough time.
Her eyes glisten in the cabin’s warm, glowing light, reminding me of silver. Her raw expression of emotion shakes me.
“You being the oldest sibling makes so much sense. We just get each other, you know?” I stroke her thigh.
She rolls her eyes with a coy smile. My expression sobers, and I whisper, “You aren’t a coward, Cleo.
I get why you chose not to guard them—it would’ve been hard helping one of them heal but not the other. ”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head, pressing her lips into a flat line. “I could’ve—no, I should’ve done more.”
“Cleo, I’m so sorry. I wish I could take your pain away.” I gulp. “What about your parents? What were they like?”
She swallows and exhales. “They were everything to me. My mom was a tailor—a cool one. She ran the business from our home and everything. I helped pick up the slack and watch my brother and sister when she had to work, but I didn’t mind it.
My friends all loved her because she was hilarious and full of life.
My dad was an engineer. I can’t lie, I don’t know the first thing about what he actually did daily, but I can confidently say he was the most patient person I have ever known.
My mom was stubborn, hotheaded, and a bit cold at times—familiar, I know—but my dad was gentle, protective, and calming.
After a bad day, he’d sit me down and let me talk him through it with a cup of hot cocoa, no matter how insignificant my sorrows were. It was more than I deserved.”
Everything is clicking now. Watching the way she talks about her family makes so much sense. Death tore her away from them, and for some reason, she’s angry at herself. She sighs and shuts her eyes. “They just cared about us. Truly cared. They weren’t perfect parents, but they were mine.”
“That’s so special. I can’t even comprehend what it’s like to have parents who undoubtedly care.
I always doubted whether mine did—until I died, that is.
After my departure, I finally realized how much they cared, but it’s a bit wild that it took my literal death for that to become clear.
” I choke up, thinking about how she described her parents.
“Your parents sound perfect to me. I hope to meet them one day.”
A tear slips out of her eye, running along the edge of her cheek. “They would’ve really loved you.”
My heart does a flip in response to that. “Damn, that’s high praise coming from Cleo Graves herself.” I lean close enough to her to count her eyelashes and the small, faint freckles on her cheeks. “How are you feeling now?”
With almost no hesitation, she nods and answers, “Lighter.”
I smile. Mission accomplished.
“Most of the time, it feels like you’re the only person I can talk to,” she gently whispers, gazing into my eyes.
“The feeling is mutual.” I massage her back. “And you’re the only person I want to talk to most of the time.”
Her cheeks turn my favorite shade of pink, then she asks, “How are you feeling, Kai?”
My stomach drops.
“I’m… okay. Better than okay for the first time in a while, actually. Thanks to you.” I let out a sigh when a bright idea comes to mind. “Do you trust me?”
She hesitates now. I quirk a brow. After all we’ve been through, she still isn’t sure about me. Fuck, that hurts.
“Fine. Do you wanna do something wild?” I grin at her mischievously.
“Perhaps?” She raises her eyebrows skeptically.
“‘Perhaps’ is basically a yes in Kai’s book, so we’re doing it. No takebacks.”
I quickly jump up from the sofa and begin taking my clothes off. I do it slowly to give her a little show, too. Sue me, I just love watching her blush.
“What on earth are you doing?” She gawks, staring at my discarded clothes on the floor. I’ve taken nearly everything off except for my briefs. Her eyes scan my body, and my cock hardens under her sight—I can’t help it. Her eyes widen before shutting abruptly. I crack a grin and step closer to her.
“Drink it in, baby. I’m all yours.” I bite my lip subtly and decide to take things another step—yes, a literal step—forward and plant my arms on either side of her, caging her in on the couch.
“Oh, please. I’m not naive enough to think that that”—she opens her eyes and runs her fingers down my abdomen mockingly, sending shivers down my spine—“is all mine.”
Just one touch, and I’m putty.
Then she squeezes her eyes shut again.
She’s so damn cute.
I bend down and brush my lips against her earlobe.
“Trust me. I’ve been yours longer than you know,” I rasp into her ear. “Now, be a good girl and come join me in the water.”
I bounce back and sprint out of the front door in only my briefs before she can respond, crossing my fingers and toes that she’ll follow me.
Running away together could be a real possibility after all.
Is this what the afterlife is supposed to feel like? It reminds me of my life before death. Hell, I’ve missed living.
I can’t get enough.
Maybe this realm and that angel are exactly what I’ve been needing to find peace.