His eyes widen as he’s hit again by the wave of what I’m capable of. He doesn’t answer right away, his gaze distant as he gives my question real thought. I appreciate that he doesn’t offer up empty platitudes about the duty of helping people, but instead thinks through all the ramifications of such actions. The entire time his finger doesn’t leave my chin, and I try not to invest too much in the gesture.
Finally, his focus returns to me and he answers, “Callie, you can’t come back here.”
“What? Why?” I question, his statement hitting me like a punch in the gut. When I try to pull away, his hand drops to my arm.
“The temptation to save everyone here is too much for you,” he explains, his dark brown eyes beseeching me to understand. “You’re not a person that can watch people suffer and do nothing. Even if it would cost you everything.” He shakes his head. “It’s one of your best, and yet currently, frustrating qualities.”
“We’re not talking about the people in the hospital anymore, are we?” I murmur, chewing on my bottom lip, while everything inside me feels both light and heavy—hope and fear in equal measures.
“Callie, I…” He falters, the words he wants to say seeming to evaporate from his tongue.
My fingers tingle with the desire to lace with his. It’s such a small gesture to hold hands, but it’s special. It’s not him touching me, or me touching him. It requires us both to link together. I want to feel connected again.
“Talk to me,” I plead gently, my hand nervously brushing against his.
Kaleb looks down, his expression pained, as he hooks a few fingers with mine. He’s not fully embracing the connection, but not pulling away either. In a hoarse whisper, he implores, “Don’t. You… don’t want to hear this. Not now. What I’m thinking…feeling…it’s messy.”
“If it’s the truth, I want to hear it,” I insist, loosely slipping my fingers between his. “Even if I might not like it. Please don’t shut me out.”
He grits his teeth and stares hard into my eyes, letting me see a swirling depth of pain and accusation reflected within his gaze. “I’m so…fucking…mad at you for putting me in this position—for makingmethe person that has to say, ‘no. Don’t bring my best friend back from the dead,’ even though I feel like I can’t breathe over the thought of him being gone.”
I don’t know what to say as different emotions hit me all at once. Shock over the intensity of his emotions breaking through the politeness he wears like a second skin. Relief that despite how mad he is at me, he still trusts me enough to show me what lies behind his walls. And a sickening guilt that weighs me to the floor as I watch him struggle to hold himself together. To use his words, instead of the deep violence shaking through him. It reminds me of the time, when using strength alone, he slowly pressed a fist-sized dent into one of the lockers across from mine. I’m not worried he’ll hurt me, but I can’t say the same thing for anything in this room.
“You were the one who convinced me it was time to help Felix move on,” Kaleb accuses, the hand that grips my arm subtly flexing, his thick fingers both needing and trying not to dig into my flesh. His breaths are shallow and trembling, as the full extent of what he’s been feeling continues to pour from him. “It gutted me to hear it. I felt like I was failing him, but you…you said you’d help me. That I wouldn’t have to do it alone.” He presses his lips tight together and there’s a sharp tic in his jaw. Through his gritted teeth, he finishes, “But here I am. Alone.”
“That was before he rejected his door. If I don’t do something, he’ll stop existing,” I whisper, hating the disappointment in his eyes. The truth of how badly I’ve hurt him feels like a knife twisting in my chest.
“And instead of helping me convince him to move on like he’s supposed to, you suggest…” He trails off, aggressively pulling away to pace the length of one of the medical beds. His hands fist open and closed at his sides, the muscles of his back visibly tense through his shirt.
I wrap my arms around myself, feeling the cold more acutely than before, as if it has seeped into my bones. Felix is the only one that could stop me from moving forward with my plan, but listening to Kaleb has muddied my feelings around it.
After a couple of laps, he finally looks at me, his entire body washed in a maelstrom of devastation and helplessness. “Bringing someone back from the dead is a death sentence for anyone who attempts it. Youknowthis,” he stresses, modulating each word carefully to keep from shouting. “How do you think Felix will feel if giving him his life back costs you your own? Did you even consider that?”
“Do you really think the Council will let me live no matter what I do?” I counter softly, my eyes drifting to the linoleum. “At least I can die knowing I saved Felix.”
Because my eyes are fixed to the floor, I’m surprised when Kaleb barrels into me, shoving me against the door. With his fingers digging so hard into my arms I’m sure there will be bruises, he growls, “No. You’re not going to die. I won’t let them hurt you.”
“How will you stop them?” I whisper, the intensity of his gaze causing my heart to beat wildly in my chest.
“By any means necessary,” he vows, the fearsome depths and passion in his declaration stealing my breath.
Without warning, he claims the air from my lungs as his own with a punishing kiss that chases all thoughts from my head. Knotting his hands in my hair, he holds me right where he wants me, refusing to relent as his tongue skillfully invades my mouth. I follow the dance the best I can, giving as he takes. Heat builds within me, scorching my skin, while the most selfless person I know demands everything from me.
His body is like a wall of stone that presses so hard against me, it rattles the door. One of his hands drifts from my hair to grip my hip, pulling me into him as he pushes back, his arousal pressing low against my belly. Sweat drips down my back from being trapped in too many layers with this amount of heat rippling through my body.
My fingers dig into his lower back, holding on to him like he’s all that keeps me from falling from a speeding train. My senses are on a dizzying plunge, every sensation filled with him. The hot taste of his mouth. The rich, earthy scent of his cologne. The groans of desire that vibrate from his chest into mine. There’s no escape.
When I feel like I’m about to pass out, he releases my mouth long enough to take a gulp of air, growling in my ear, “You will live. Do you understand me?”
I nod as uncontrollable shivers ricochet through me. I’m grateful that he’s pinned me to the door with his body, or I’d be a heated puddle on the floor right now.
“Say it,” he demands, his teeth scraping against my jaw, while his hand moves from my hip to my ass. He squeezes and lifts, forcing me to stand on the tips of my toes.
“I’ll live,” I gasp, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as his head dips to bite and suck on my neck.
Seemingly satisfied with my declaration, he returns to my mouth, sucking on my tongue and biting my lips. In a singularly focused, sweet brutality, he continues with an intensity that makes me feel like I’ve fallen into the ocean and can’t find my way to the surface. There’s no room for anxiety or fear, because he refuses to let my mind settle long enough to have a thought. It’s simply reacting. Feeling the tingling in my lips. The fire burning in my veins. Drowning in his touch.
He bends me to his will, the hand fisted in my hair maneuvering my head to where he wants it. After each time he allows me to take a breath, his kisses grow deeper, more insistent than the ones before to the point where I truly don’t know which way is up. The world swirls in spinning colors around us, there, but impossible to pick out, because at this moment there’s only him. Taking. Needing. Consuming me.
