Page 37 of The Art of Kissing


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His choice of words causes goosebumps to sprout across my flesh.

Killer.

You are a killer.

And the last time there was a violent storm, you may have killed your parents.

Sometimes, in the darkness of night, I can recall brief flashes of the storm from the day my parents were killed. The sound of the thunder had felt like it was burrowing into my brain to the point that I had a headache.

“So, who wants to tell me what’s going on?” Zay’s voice tears me from my thoughts as he takes off his jacket and hangs it on a coatrack.

Hunter trades a look with Jax and me before sighing. “Well, since I’m the soberest, I guess I will,” he says, heading toward the living room and motioning for us to follow him.

I turn to do just that when Jax snags a hold of my hand, grabs the bag from the floor, and pulls me in the opposite direction, toward the kitchen.

“We’ll be there in a second,” Jax calls out. “We’re going to make more drinks.”

Someone says something, but I can’t make out what it is as we push through the kitchen door and step into the dark room. Jax sets the bag down on the counter without bothering to turn on the light. Me? I hate the dark, and the sight of the flashes of lightning from outside is creeping me out.

“Can I turn on the light?” I ask Jax.

He unzips the bag. “Of course. You don’t have to ask, Raven. This is your house now, too.”

A smile touches my face as I backtrack to the light switch and flip it on. The kitchen briefly illuminates before going dark again.

Jax pauses from digging around in the bag, lifting his head to peer up at the light. Then he looks out the window where nothing but darkness and the occasional flash of light can be seen. “Shit, I think the power went out,” he mutters as he grabs a bottle from out of the bag and sets it on the counter. “Let me go grab a flashlight from the storage closet.” He starts across the kitchen, heading to leave the room.

Panic sets in, crawling inside my veins and causing my breathing to quicken.

I hate the dark.

I hate the way it consumes me.

I hate the way it takes over my mind.

I hate the way I feel like I’m being watched.

“I can see you, Raven,” he whispers in my ear. “Even though it’s dark, I can still see you. I can always see you.”

I gasp, stumbling backward as darkness consumes my vision.

I’m alone.

Alone.

Alone.

With nothing but darkness.

In a padded room.

Where the doctor watches me.

“Raven? Sweetheart, look at me.” Jax’s voice floats through the darkness, and then I feel warm hands touch my face. “Look at me, okay? Take a deep breath.”

I do what he says.

Trust him.

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