A Want So Wicked (A Need So Beautiful #2)(18)
Author: Suzanne Young

“You have no idea,” he murmurs. “Can I walk you to your door?”

My house is dark other than the front porch light as Abe and I move toward it silently. I wonder if my dad is already asleep or if he’s waiting for me on the couch. I just hope he’s not peeking out the window.

When we stop, Abe puts his arms around my waist, holding me close to him as he looks down at me. As tall as I feel, he’s taller and I have to tip my head back to see his face. His eyes are dark and deep.

“I should go,” he says, but doesn’t pull away.

“Probably.” I’m suddenly hyperconscious of Abe against me, the way his fingers are intertwined behind my back. My heart thumps and I’m not sure if it’s from nervousness or desire.

A slow smile spreads across Abe’s face. “Can I kiss you good night?” he asks.

I swallow hard, thinking back to Marissa. The contempt in her eyes from across the fire. The pathetic way she came after him later. I don’t want that to be me. “Abe,” I start. “I don’t think so. I don’t want us to end up hating each other.”

“You could never hate me.”

“Crazier things have happened.”

He seems to consider this, but then moves to rest his palm on my neck, a tender spot just under my jaw. “We could just try it,” he whispers. “If it doesn’t feel good we could stop.”

My stomach flutters at the thought. “Chances are, it will feel great. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then you worry too much.”

I’m about to tell him that he sounds like a trashy-romance-novel hero when he leans down and brings his mouth right to the corner of mine, but not touching me. “Can I kiss you now?”

“I . . .” His breath is warm across my lips, his thumb gently stroking my jaw. But when I close my eyes, there is only panic and guilt. “I can’t.”

Abe sighs, sounding disappointed, but not angry. “You’ll change your mind,” he says, quickly kissing my cheek before letting me go. It takes me a minute to gather myself, my body still humming with adrenaline.

Abe backs away, holding up his hand to say good-bye. “Have a nice evening, Elise,” he calls. “Told you I wouldn’t ruin you yet.” And with that, he turns to leave.

I watch after him, not sure why I didn’t kiss him. He’s certainly cute enough. Sweet. Charming. But at the same time, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Maybe everyone’s right. Maybe I do need therapy.

I go inside, and my dad and Lucy are asleep, the house still as I crawl into bed. I think about Madame Marceline. I’ll find her tomorrow. I’ll ask her exactly what’s going on with me. I just hope she has an answer.

Above me the rhythmic ticking of my ceiling fan begins to lull me to sleep. And when I close my eyes, the world slips away altogether.

* * *

I’m on the roof of a high-rise building again as rain falls all around me. My body glows in the dim light, but this time I know immediately that I’m in her vision. Onika sits on the ledge of the building, her feet dangling over. The rain doesn’t touch her, but I can’t see her face, can’t see what’s behind her curtain of blond hair. By the set of her shoulders I think that she’s determined to jump. Will she?

The door opens and the man stalks out, his skin flawless, nothing like the cracked horror I’d seen last time. “Onika,” he calls out, sounding like a disappointed father. “Enough with this temper tantrum.”

She turns to glare at him fiercely. “You lied, Rodney. I can’t keep him. I can’t keep any of them.”

“You’ll find others.”

“I don’t want anyone else. You told me that if I loved him, if I loved him enough, that I could continue living. But he sees me, Rodney. He sees what you’ve made me become, the things I have to do now. I’m not escaping being Forgotten—not really. I’m only compelled in a different way.”

“Onika,” he responds as if he’s tired of talking to her. “If you want your lover then whisper to him. Make him do what you want.”

“No.” She sounds horrified by the thought. “I want to keep him as he is,” she says desperately. “You’ve ruined everything.”

“It was your decision, my beauty. All I did was provide the temptation.”

“You tricked me!”

“And if I did? What will you do now—jump off this building again? How many times must you do that before you realize that you’re bound to the earth? There is no way out, not for us. The light doesn’t want you, Onika. We made a choice.”

“You lied!” she roars. “You said nothing would change.”

“But it has. And you need to accept it.” He pauses, disgust crossing his face. “Or just jump. I don’t care.”

Onika lets out a sad laugh, hinged with misery. Devastation. And then she leans forward and falls off the roof once again.

But as I watch, the only sound is my scream—forcing me awake.

It’s morning and my head is foggy from a restless night’s sleep, the image of the woman falling from the building still in my mind. When I walk into the kitchen I find my sister at the table, typing on her laptop. I swipe her hair when I pass behind, saying hello to my father as he flips through the newspaper across from her.

“Have you ever had a recurring nightmare?” I ask them, taking a spot between their chairs. My sister looks up quickly, seemingly taken aback by the question.

“Sure,” my father says, folding the page in front of him. “I think I used to have one about drowning when I was a kid. And your sister used to have them after your mother died. Remember, Lucinda?”

“No, Doug,” she responds, and goes back to typing. Her curt response makes me wonder if her pain level is causing her increasingly moody behavior. And then I wonder if she’s told my father about it yet.

“Don’t get so upset,” my father says, sounding surprised. “I was just pointing it out.” He turns to me. “She used to wake me up with stories of a man with a broken face trying to push her off of a tower. You don’t forget things like that when they’re coming from your nine-year-old.”

“Dad.” My sister turns to him, closing her laptop. “I don’t think my creepy childhood dreams are appropriate breakfast conversation. I’d almost rather hear about Elise’s G-rated love life.”