Leaning down, I linger near her ear.
“Guess you can chalk it up to being at the right place right time.” My soft words send goosebumps down herneck.Restraining my impulse to trail my lips after them, I watchas her cheeks heat.
“Hi, remember me?” Knox’s sarcastic tone cuts through as he waves like an idiot.
I snap up, looking back at him while clearing my throat.
“Yes, Knox, who can forget?” she quips sarcastically.
She steps away from me, and the pulsing connection between us diffuses. I suppress a smile, seeing the slight disappointment lingering on her face.
A pouting Knox huffs loudly and collapses into the chair across from my desk.
I gesture for Myssa to have a seat across from him. As I step in front of both of them, I shuffle some papers around, clearing a spot, and turn to taking a seat on the edge of my desk.
The awkward silence lingering. I pause, considering how to broach this topic, but Myssa beats me to it.
“Knox said you’d be able to help me?” The desperate look in her eyes guts me. I know that look. It’s the same one Knox gave me when he opened up. I can remember the first conversation I had with him about this.
“I promise I’m not crazy, but man, something is messed up in my head.”
Knox and I had a plan, one that was painstakingly crafted to ease her into all this information.
But as I watch a tear fall down her cheek and feel the pain displayed in her eyes, it takes all my restraint to not reach forward and wipe it away.Her face falls as she mumbles, “I am crazy, aren’t I?”
Any plan I had evaporated, and I just begin to ramble.
“It starts with dreams,” I spurt out.
Her eyes flicker up to mine, realizing that I have her complete attention I nervously grip onto the edge of my desk as I continue. “You fear your mind is playing tricks on you.Visions and flashes of what seems like lives you have lived in the past. Visions of this different world like our own. You struggle, wondering if you are in the reality, you know, or another one altogether.”
Her mouth parts as shock blankets her face. All I want to do is comfort her and tell her it’s ok. But herhypnotic gaze has me in a vice grip, and it’s too much. I break free and stand up, taking small steps around the room, looking at anything but her as I continue.
“You’re starting to question everything you’ve been taught—what has been imbedded in you as truth,” I say.
“Yes.” The confirmation is barely a whisper past her lips.
I close my eyes at the admission.
I wrestle with the uncertainty creeping over me. How much should I expose right now? The inner conflict is keeping me tongue tied. There’s so much at stake, and reading her reactions is difficult, as they muddle with my own. The anxiety plaguing her, the excitement for answers, and the relief it’s real, mixed with the despair of the last six months. And I can feel everything she feels.
Cautiously, I teeter between ripping the band-aid off and giving her all the answers she seeks or giving her small quantities to swallow and digest. Either choice will have an impact on her perception of her life, regardless. Any of it is a lot to take in. But after our conversation with Jess and Steph, I fear we’re running out of time.
Glancing back at her, I notice she’s looking as uncomfortable as I feel. She takes off her sweater before draping it on the back of the chair.That’s when I see it, the aftermath of Jasper's sick game.
And once again, the rage claws its way to the surface.
Before I know what, I’m doing, I have her wrist in my hand, examining her arm. She flinches but doesn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry.” My remorseful confession leaves my lips before I can stop it.
I hate myself for not being there, for not reaching out faster. I was a coward, but I was attempting to shield her from the fucked-up darkness I live in.
Never again.
Impulsively, my hand twists into a fist, and I close my eyes.
Jasper will die for what he has done.
