“You pushed me first. You started the war first. Don’t blame me for building my forts.”

He touches his finger to my mouth. I cease breathing at the feel of his skin on mine.

His nearness has always been my undoing. Now that I lost the reason to feel numb, all I can do is feel.

The rough skin, the lean finger, the tingles, the need to lean in.

“Run and I’ll chase. Hide and I’ll conquer.” He places a chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Time to make your move, sweetheart.”

17

Elsa

Past

I wrap my hand around Grey Eyes’. The freezing temperature shocks my warm skin.

I frown as I stare up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were cold?”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. Daddy says children can’t get cold or they’ll get sick. I don’t want you to get sick.”

His lips move into a small smile. It’s so rare to see him smile. I’ve even given him my Maltesers and he still wouldn’t smile as big as I do.

He watches me closely like Uncle Agnus does when there’s something on my face.

I wipe at the corner of my mouth, but there’s nothing. “Why are you looking at me like that?

“If you keep your promise, I won’t get sick.”

I grin and lean my head on his shoulder. It’s warm, his shoulder, even though the rest of him isn’t. “I will! Absolutely.”

* * *

Present

A knot squeezes tightly around my heart like a noose, filled with wires and mines.

Sitting up in bed, I wipe the stray tear falling down my cheek. I don’t even know why I’m crying.

I didn’t have a nightmare, but the stiffness in my chest almost make it seem like one.

Something feral and wild beats beneath my skin, something scary, but also… exhilarating.

I pull my knees to my chest and watch my hands under the dim light of the night lamp. No idea why I do that. It’s not like I can reincarnate the feeling of his hand in mine.

Or the warmth of his shoulder when I laid my head against it.

Or how easy our interactions were.

We’re like two pieces of the same puzzle, him and I.

He was beautiful even back then — with his boyish features and tousled hair.

He grew up to be lethal.

The words we exchanged play in a loop in my mind. We made a promise. How come I don’t remember it?

You’re the one who never keeps her promises.

Surely, a promise made by a seven-year-old and an eight-year-old can’t be that important.

It’s three in the morning, and I probably won’t be able to find sleep any time soon. I plug my earbuds in and hit play on my iPod. Paradise by Coldplay fills my ears as I retrieve my phone and go through Instagram.

Since Aiden and Silver talked to me on Friday, I went back to stalking him.

What?

I can’t control my cravings anymore. I was only able to do that due to my resolve and because I thought I was the other woman.

Now that all those reasons vanished, I’m possessed by this need to check up on him. To just look at him.

He’s a drug, Aiden. I’m just a loser on withdrawal.

This is not healthy, but whatever.

I miss him. As far as I know, there’s no cure for that, so I’ll just scroll through his IG.

He uploaded the last picture about half an hour ago. It’s a black and white shot of the surface of his pool. No caption.

Since it’s late, he must be having trouble sleeping.

I wonder if he’s also thinking about those days in the basement. Maybe he, too, was woken up because of a memory from the past.

A deep longing hits me out of nowhere. It tastes sour, but also delicious.

The longer I stare at his face in the pictures, at his midnight hair and cloudy eyes, at his infectious smile and the devil inside, the harder I’m tempted to reach out to him.

I can hit ‘like’ and alert him to the fact that I’m online. That I’m awake and thinking about him and our fucked up past.

The song switches to Things We Lost in The Fire by Bastille.

I exit his Instagram before I do something I’ll regret come morning. I shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions this late.

I lie in bed and watch the neon blue numbers on the nightstand, but I can’t quite let go of my phone.

Agnus got everyone of us that same alarm clock with blue numbers instead of red. He said it’s better for relaxation.

He’s always busy making our lives better down to the smallest details. Knox mentioned that he took care of them, the company, and my comatose Dad during the past ten years.

The loyalty he holds for Dad is admirable, to say the least.

Knox says Agnus’ only fault is being too quiet.

I disagree. It’s such a rare quality. Agnus doesn’t speak unless he’s spoken to and his answers are always short and straight to the point.

My phone vibrates. I jump.

My lips part and my toes curl at the name on the screen.

Aiden: Asleep?

Holy shit.

Does he have telepathic powers or something? I rush back to Instagram and check if I left a like by mistake.

Nothing. Thank God.

Aiden: You’re not.

I mark the texts as read, but I don’t reply.

Aiden: Hmm. I like it when you’re stubborn, sweetheart. It makes me rock hard thinking about how to fuck that defiance out of you.

My muscles’ memory kicks into gear.

I’m thrown back to the times Aiden wrapped his hand around my throat and pounded into me like a mad man in need of his sanity. Like he can’t get deep enough or fuck me hard enough.

My core springs back to life at the memory.

It’s been a long time — nearly a month. My sexual cravings are going through withdrawals as well. Bringing myself to orgasm doesn’t even count. It’s pathetic compared to Aiden’s intensity.

Of course, I don’t tell him that. But I do throw the covers away because it’s getting too hot.

Another text pings on my screen.

Aiden: I’m fantasising about how to fuck you next time I see you. Against the wall, on the floor, or in a fucking public toilet. So many choices.

He’s so sure I’ll let him fuck me the next time.

Arrogant prick.

Elsa: You said you won’t touch me until I forgive you. I still haven’t.

Aiden: You were given all the reasons to forgive me. Now, you’re just playing hard to get.

Elsa: I’m not.

I really am not. I just want him to feel the weight of his betrayal, to recognise how much he shook my trust. That’s not too much to ask for.

Aiden: Yes, you are. So I’m changing my tactics.

Changing his tactics? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I’m still mulling his words over when another text comes through.

Aiden: Are you wearing the rabbit pjs?

Elsa: No.

Aiden: Hmm. Does that mean you’re wearing nothing?

I smile despite myself. Aiden and his screwed up mind could be weapons of mass destruction.

Elsa: It means I’m wearing something else.

Aiden: Still, you’re naked underneath.

Well, yes. I’m only wearing a cotton nightie and nothing else.