Page 37 of The Cruelest Kind of Hate
“She’d be better off dead.”
He slips his fingers around my nape, pulling my face close to his. Our foreheads touch, and our breaths mingle in an almost kiss. “Stop. Stop it. I know you don’t mean that. She loves you so much. She’s not ready to say goodbye yet, and neither are you.”
Water inundates my blazing eyes, surging down my face in tributaries that convene at my jawline. Saliva swarms my mouth as snot blocks my nasal cavities, giving my already-strained voice a relentless hiccup.
I was determined to carry this pain by myself, to lock Gage out, but I’m not strong enough. The guilt is going to kill me. I’ve never had another person to lean on. I’ve never allowed someone else to help me carry my burdens, but he’s righthere, and my heart’s unfurling like petals ready to blossom—ready to let the light in after months of darkness.
“Don’t punish yourself, Cali. You’re going to destroy me ifyou punish yourself. And I can’t…I won’t be able to heal if I lose you,” he chokes, pain drenching his waterlines in fat droplets.
I’ve never seen Gage cry before. I never thought I ever would. I thought he was one of those guys who warded off emotions like a priest warding off demonic activity, but he’s letting me see his vulnerability. He’s imploring me to take his outstretched hand. He’s offering me the support I’ve always searched for but never found.
I ball my fists into the back of his shirt, my heart racing so quickly that I’m afraid it’ll burst from my chest and gallop off into the woods. “I don’t think I c-can…do this…a-anymore,” I sob, needing to ground myself on the firmness of his shoulders, needing to feel his heart beneath my hand to remind myself that he’s real and he’s here and he won’t leave me.
Gage wraps his arms fully around me, bringing my shaking frame into his sturdy one, allowing my nose to nestle in the divot of his collarbone. “I know, Cali. Shh. I know. You can. I’m here, okay? You’re not alone anymore.”
Not alone anymore.
I’ve never known what it feels like not to be alone.
Everything hurts—my eyes, my heart, my throat. It feels like there’s a tungsten needle piercing the membrane of my heart—slowly,slowlyplunging into the barely pulsating muscle until everything in my body turns dark. “It h-hurts, Gage. I feel like I can’tbreathe. I just…I can’t…”
He squeezes me tighter, as if he’s afraid I’ll float away if he lets go. “Give me your pain, Cali. Give me everything. I’m here, Spitfire. Right here,” he croons into my neck, petting my hair.
Every emotion that I’ve compartmentalized since my mother’s diagnosis ruptures inside me, and a bloodcurdling scream emanates from me, one so loud that it rings in my ears and drowns out the ambience of the night. Gage doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t let go. He inhales my pain, swallows every last ounce ofit, and lets it detonate inside his body to spare me from the sharp, fragmented fallout.
Each wail robs me of oxygen, heating my cheeks and my forehead and the back of my neck. I don’t open my eyes because I won’t be able to see past the blurry, rippling caustics. I don’t know how long I cry for, but it feels like forever. My throat’s thoroughly abraded, and I know it’ll hurt when I talk again.
“You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’m not going anywhere,” he hushes, rubbing circles on my upper back.
I need to move my face because I’ve saturated the spot of his shirt that I was previously occupying. “I…don’t…w-want…to…t-trap…you,” I gasp, finally looking up at him.
His thumb comes up to brush away a weltering tear, a small smile dimpling his cheeks. “You’re not trapping me, Cali. Not even close.”
“But—”
“No buts. Do you know that I’d give anything in this fucking world to be in your life? I don’t care what that means—friend, lover, enemy, stranger that I occasionally run into at the rink. I need you in my life or I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”
I can’t believe this. I mean, Gage hasn’t tried to keep his feelings for me a secret, but I didn’t realize they stemmed from more than just some hate attraction. He has to be delirious. This—this can’t be how he really feels. “You barely know me, Gage.”
“I know enough. I know that you’re one of the most caring people I’ve ever met. I know that you put other people’s happiness before your own. I know that you put a guard up so people don’t see the vulnerable parts of you.”
Shock shrieks through me. “How do you know all of that?”
“Because I notice the small things,” he answers, catching another runaway tear from disappearing beneath the neck of his hoodie.
His words have an unexpected cataclysmic effect on me, andmore cries echo around his room, probably concerning the other inhabitants of the house. The dissonance of my whimpers and his string of coos whistle through my eardrums like wind through reeds of cattails.
I’ve never trusted anyone with my heart before because I was always certain that it would only lie with my family, but Gage Arlington has somehow managed to shoehorn his way into the tiniest crack. “W-what if you leave?” I ask through a sniffle, hating how pathetic I sound.
Nobody’s obligated to stay. Everyone eventually leaves. Just look at my dad.
Gage inclines his head, making his hair flop over. “Not a chance in hell. You’d have to get a restraining order against me before I ever decide to leave.”
A half-formed chuckle barely scrapes out of me. “I doubt that I’d ever do that. Or that a slip of paper would keep you away.”
“You’re definitely right about the last part. But I don’t know, I can be pretty annoying,” he jokes, nudging me with his elbow.
I don’t even realize that the tears have retreated for the time being, or that my lungs are bringing in fresh air again. “So you finally admit it?”
