Page 70 of Rival Hearts
My brothers and I each had our own burdens to bear, and sometimes, it felt like I was the only one carrying the heavy weight by myself when Chris had his adventures and Daniel could fly away from here whenever he felt like it.
Charlotte stood in front of me, only a blanket wrapped around her, and she looked up at me with hazel eyes that filled with so much emotion I felt like I was drowning in it.
The moment between us was electric.
I knew all of this was wrong. I wasn’t supposed to feel about her this way. Hell, I didn’t ever feel aboutanyonethis way. Something about her was so different, and it mademefeel different.
And that was scary as fuck.
I wasn’t scared of a lot. I’d been to hell and back more times than I could count before I was a teenager, and when shit like that happens to you, there isn’t a lot of pain that can still scare you off.
It wasn’t pain that scared me now, though. It was everything about Charlotte that was good. I didn’t deserve good. She was perfect, blemish-free.
And I was scarred.
Maybe not on the outside. The scars I’d had as a child had faded, healed after years and years of not being hurt anymore. But that didn’t mean they weren’t still there on the inside. I was marred and Charlotte was perfect.
She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against my chest, and I wanted to protect her from everything out there. All the pain and hurt and all the horrible things people did to each other.
Thunder clapped loudly overhead, and lightning struck dangerously close to us. This storm had become wildly electrical, and if we stayed up here, we were in trouble.
Charlotte relished in the danger up here, but I knew what could happen. I knew how the sea could consume you, how a storm could drown you or burn you to a crisp.
“We should go back downstairs.”
Charlotte looked up at me, lips parted. She wanted to say something, but then another bolt of lightning snapped so close I could feel the electricity running over my skin.
“It will be safer lower down.”
She nodded, and I took her hand, leading her back to the stairs. I let her go first, making sure she got down okay before I followed her to the tarp.
“Do you want some more water?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I think we should save it for when we really need it. I’m okay for now.”
I nodded.
I wished I had something with me that could make this evening a little more romantic. A picnic basket with bread and cheese and grapes, maybe. Some wine would be nice.
And candles to light up the place.
I walked to the shelf.
“What are you doing?”
“There might be supplies here we can use.”
“Like what?”
“And old lamp, maybe. Matches. This room has stayed dry over the years, from the looks of things. Maybe we can make something work.”
A lamp stood on the shelf. It was an old kerosene lamp. I grabbed it and studied it, but the kerosene had long since dried up.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“What?”
“The lamp is out of kerosene. I was hoping we could have some light.” Lightning lit up the place, and my gaze fell on the old trunk.
