Page 31 of The Risks of Reuniting

My mouth is dry as I keep walking, taking in stacks of bones piled in old graves. I imagine people carrying the dead down here and it makes my skin crawl. This is no longer cool or interesting, this is death. I shiver and hug my arms to myself, looking down at my feet to avoid more bones and skulls as we move through the dark chambers. My stomach feels queasy and my palms begin to sweat.

"Someone could really get lost down here," Rachelle calls cheerily. "This would be a cool place to spend Halloween."

Holt chuckles. "This would have been a great place to take a teenage date. She'd have been clinging all night long."

"I'll cling to Cesar," Rachelle teases, and I hear Cesar laugh, which I figure means she's wrapped her arms around his and is pretending to be frightened.

I can't even fake joining in. The air in my lungs is tight and I have to pull hard to get enough. My throat is thick with the musty air.

"It was an honor to be buried here," Cesar says, growing serious. "It's what all the people wanted."

"They wanted to be buried underground?" Rachelle asks.

Cesar explains in more detail to Holt who translates. "They wanted to be buried under the church. They believed only those buried here would go to heaven."

"I'd rather risk hell," I mutter, wheezing slightly as I wrap my arms tightly around my stomach.

"Chlo?" Holt asks, coming up right behind me. "You okay?"

I turn and gaze up at him, struggling to keep from freaking out. "I need you to get me out." My eyelids are sweaty. Is that possible?

His expression immediately grows serious and he looks around for a quick escape. I watch his feet as he speaks to our tour guide in Spanish while I feel like I'm being buried alive myself.

"Oh, honey," Rachelle sympathizes, coming close and rubbing at my arm. "Why didn't you tell us you're claustrophobic?"

"I was okay for a while," I reply softly.

Holt's there again, taking my hand in his, prying it away from my body, and leading me along. He tells Rachelle and Cesar to go on with the group and then we're going the wrong direction, causing fellow tourists to have to step to the side, but I'm so relieved to be leaving that I hold Holt's hand tightly and keep my head down, not bothering to apologize.

My breathing quickens and in my head it seems to take an hour to get out, but in the real world it's less than five minutes before we're climbing up the same stone steps we came down and stepping out into a chamber with an impossibly high ceiling and beautiful woodwork. Holt turns to face me and tugs at my hand to pull me into an embrace that I sink into. I'll hate myself for it later, but for now I soak up his cedar-scented solidness. He did what I asked, he got me out. I'm safe.

I work to slow my breathing as I stand in a fuzzy state, my thoughts lazily telling me that this moment is my version of heaven. My cheek rests against Holt's neck and his chin is pressed against my temple as he firmly strokes comforting circles on my back. Forget being buried down there, just give me Holt's warm arms. Why had I been nervous about hugging him the other night? This is perfection.

His breathing is slow and I match mine to his until I feel better, centered – and then my eyes pop open. Oh no. This isn't a good idea.

I don't want to offend my new truce buddy, so I slowly pull away and reach up an unsteady hand to comb back a lock of my hair that's tickling at my forehead. He releases me without complaint and I manage to smile up at him.

"Well, that was interesting," I say sheepishly. "I'm so sorry you had to miss the rest of the tour."

He waves a hand before pushing it into his pocket. "If you've seen one catacomb, you've seen them all." His smile is crooked and charming.

"Uh, where are we meeting everyone else?" I ask.

"Do you remember where the bathrooms were? Off that center courtyard?"

"I think so. Follow me?" I need to get moving again before I feel awkward about all of this.

I start walking before he has a chance to respond, but I swear I hear him sayalwaysunder his breath before he tails me out of the beautiful old building.

Chapter 12

Holt

Chloewantedatruceand I gave it to her, so why does everything feel worse than before? Maybe it would have been fine if she hadn't gotten scared in the catacombs, but holding her body close and feeling her citrus-scented hair tickle at my chin, well, let's just say all those emotions I was making peace with? They're baaaack!

And if it isn't hard enough to reconcile all of that, and figure out what – if anything – to do about it, I'm sitting on a hard pew in a gorgeous old church on this perfect Sunday morning with her thigh pressed tight against mine. Groan. Higher powers do not love me today. I'm being made to suffer for my past sins.

I have nothing against attending church, in fact my family semi-regularly attended Sunday services throughout my childhood, so when Cesar excitedly told me he'd found a local congregation similar to the one he attends back at home, I was happy to oblige him by coming along. I'd thankfully brought a nicer pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, so I cleaned up my work boots until they shone, and after breakfast we headed out to make our way down the steep path to the small church house. It wasn't until we were at the gate leading out of the Center that I realized he'd invited Rachelle, Chloe and nurse Emilia to join us.

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