Page 59 of After Our Kiss

Her defiance nested in her stare. She bent away from me, folding in half, scooping her hair off her neck as she did it. That stunningly beautiful tattoo of an open eye was exposed. The blue iris pierced my soul.

The day I'd first seen it, I'd been pressing Georgia onto the bed. Fighting with her had excited the most primal part of me. And with her face in the mattress, I could avoid her judgment. Then I'd pushed her hair aside. That inked eye washereye. It had stripped away my courage and replaced it with loathing.

“I do know what I'm saying. I knew it when I had this needled into my skin the day after my mother died. Death makes you look back at your actions, realize what you'd change if you could. This is here to remind me of that.”

I digested everything she'd told me. “Your mother is dead?”

“Cancer gets all the wrong people,” she said, not yet facing me. “We moved next to one of the best hospitals in the country. Best treatments, best doctors, best everything. It didn't matter.”

She'd always spoken about her mother so fondly. Everything had been a constant worry, afraid to leave her alone... to let her suffer. And she wasdead?The unfairness blackened my mood further.

Her head turned. I could see part of her wistful smile. “I told you before that I never knew my dad. But I did know his money. He left so much for her. For us. Treatment wasn't a burden.” Her laugh sounded like a stone was rolling across her sternum. “All that cash didn't matter. You can't buy immortality.”

Watching her, I was reminded of the women from classic paintings who always wore such placid expressions. She was crafted from quiet knowledge, her soul untouchable. “You've suffered through so much,” I said, reaching for her—then stopping. “How do you do it?”

Georgia rounded on me, her hair slipping over her back again. “What?”

“Keep fighting. Keep your head up high. How do you find the will to keep going and be so strong?” It was a plea that turned my voice ragged. She'd spoken about immortality—but to me, living forever was the worst curse imaginable.

Her hands came down on my shoulders. I could have thrown her off with ease, but her gentle weight was comforting. The mystery in her face was gone. She'd become the girl I'd known nine years ago - the young woman who'd been brave enough to tell me to kiss her.

She said, “You've been carrying around Anna for years. That death is a burden that's made you hate yourself and think you should be erased. But for me... when Mom passed... I realized how much it meant for me to live. That's what makes me strong, my love for her. My love foryou.”

I pressed her against my chest and hid my face in her thick hair. Was my body built the same as everyone else? Could I handle this explosion of compassion that shoved at the back of my eyes like a tsunami?

“I love you so much,” I whispered against her scalp. “And I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry.” They were just words but maybe, if I was this close, they'd sink in and mean more.

She didn't ask me what I was apologizing for.

Whether Georgia held me, or I held her, it wasn't clear. As a bundle of regret and soothing whispers, we sat on my bed and listened to the rain outside. It attacked the boarded windows. It wanted to come inside and flay us to pieces. Mother Nature was as likely to help as rip you to shreds. I didn't need the weather for that—I was amazing at cutting myself open on my own. I was doing it now as I combed my mind for solutions.

Just keeping Georgia alive wasn't enough anymore. Her beautiful heart deserved freedom. She deserved the whole fucking world.If I can find out where Emily is, my father will have nothing over me. I could free Georgia and my sister both.

The plan that was forming inside of me was knitting my soul back together. “I have an idea,” I said.

Pulling back, she stared at me. “For...?”

“Keeping you from my father. But it's risky, Georgia. There's a chance it could go wrong.”

With kind hands, she traced the curve of my ear. “A boy once told me the same line before he rescued me. I trusted him then. I trust him now.”

I wove our fingers together until our knuckles clicked into each other's gaps. The purple ribbon on her wrist rustled over my skin. “I'm going to kill my father.”

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