Page 106 of Hide and Keep

His head bobs slowly.

“For someone that claims to hate having a personal protection agent, you sure seem obsessed with being protected.”

“You’ve noticed I’m a woman…correct?”

I ignore the goose bumps his once-over creates.

“What does that have to do with—”

“I’m constantly at risk of getting mugged, raped, kidnapped—”

Crue proceeds to roll my bracelet off my wrist.

“Um… That’s mine.”

Except, he puts it in his pocket like it’s not.

“What… No… Because…” I stammer before settling on, “I need that back.” Like right now. Today is not the day.

He dodges my hand when I reach toward his pocket, saying, “You don’t need it.”

“Actually, I do.” I don’t care if other people believe in crystals or not, I do, and they give me some semblance of security. It’s not a superstition either. This morning’s interaction with my father proved that. I wasn’t wearing it and now I have two new bruises.

“I’m more powerful than any superstition. None of those things will happen to you when I’m around.”

I continue my advance.

“And when you’re not?”

Unfortunately, Crue matches my every step forward with two of his own backward.

“When I’m not what?”

“Around!”

He gives his head a single shake. “You don’t have to worry about that for a while.”

“You’re not always around,” I argue because it’s the only thing that makes me feel alive right now.

Crue suddenly comes to a stop to study me. “Do you feel unsafe when I’m not?”

I throw up my hands. “I’m a woman. Ialwaysfeel unsafe.” Hello. That’s my whole point here.

Closing some of the distance between us, he says, “The only times I’m not with you are when you’re in your classes, your conservatory, or…your room.”

Silence grows around us like a field of cornstalks, taller and taller until all we can see is each other…and cornstalks. Just like at Hide and Keep. For a moment, I let myself pretend we’re back there, just the two of us again.

A smile tugs at my lips.

Crue’s focus falls to them quickly before yo-yoing back up to my eyes.

“Do you want me to change that?”

Yes, but not just in my sketches or during my dreams. In reality. And I don’t just want you in my room. I want you in my bed. In my shower. I want you everywhere, Crue Brantley. I wantyou.

I drop my gaze to the ground, away from the cornstalks, away from the fantasy, and tell him, “No. Of course not.”

“Are you sure? I will follow you into hell if you want me to.”

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