Page 103 of Poison Aches

“Anything to tell you—” I repeat, my heart racing and thundering as if there’s a jackhammer at work in there.

Emmett steps closer, his head angled down in my direction.

“Tell me,” he demands.

As if he just electrocuted my nerve endings with just that command, I look up and hold his gaze.

“I’m leaving,” I whisper. Why am I whispering? “I’m going to New York for my studies.”

Emmett is silent. Just behind him, the patio glass door that I had left open is now closed shut.

“Are you?” he says gruffly.

“Yes,” I almost gasp.

“Is that all?” he questions in a deep, dark purr.

“I… I wanted you to know that…” I continue in a whisper. “I didn’t think I’d see you tonight, but I’m glad this has happened. Now we can say goodbye properly without anything hanging over our heads.”

Right? Let’s agree that we have nothing between us…not even the hatred of past grievances caused because as far as you know, I still don’t remember anything.

I hold his cold, icy stare, waiting on bated breath for him to say something, but instead, he takes another step closer until I’m literally backed up against the railing.

I can’t breathe anymore. I can’t think… he’s too much.

His intense gaze tracks from my eyes, to my lips, then to the scar at my temple.

He’s still silent, watching me with a deep gaze, but I’m fighting to stay calm.

After all these years, I’m still unnerved by his extreme silence.

There’s nothing much to say, so I force a smile that comes off as creepy no doubt and give him an awkward wave.

“I hope you take care and keep well,” I murmur.

I go to move past him, but his words reach my ears before I can move a single muscle.

“Did that make you cry?”

I freeze, then stare at him.

“What?”

“Everything. Tonight.” Two clipped words. “Did that wreck you?”

I stare into the depths of his cold eyes. Maybe this will be the last time I’ll ever be this close to him. The last time I’ll ever be honest with him. The last time he ever affects me.

“It made me cry, yes,” I admit. “But it didn’t wreck me. I’m beyond that mere pain now.”

A perfectly shaped eyebrow rises as he watches me.

“Is that what you think? That your little feelings are now beyond my reach or wreckage?”

“Excuse me?” Did he just say that?

Without warning, I feel Emmett’s huge hand at the back of my neck and then in a familiar, old move that weakens my knees, he pulls me closer, pressing my head to the left side of his chest until my ear is right over his heart.

A huge wave of déjà vu hits me right in the vital organs when I hear the unusual, tortured, slow heartbeat of a sick, unhealthy heart.

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