Page 4 of With This Kiss
A wave of helplessness moved through me as I quietly stood up, feeling so fucking beat down, it was a miracle I could even move.
What was I supposed to do?
My feet felt like lead. It was as if something was stopping me from walking further, as if…
I looked back at Etta’s sleeping form just as I reached the door. Her eyes were closed, but I knew she wasn’t sleeping.
There was a perpetual crease between her brows. She was anything but at peace.
I took in a deep breath.
Then I crossed over the threshold, and it felt like my stomach had dropped all the way down to the basement of the hospital.
A deep feeling of foreboding hit me sharply, strongly, so much so that for one brief, minuscule moment, it felt like there was no oxygen left on earth, and I was left…
Helplessly gasping for the nonexistent air, just mere seconds from my own demise.
I ignored that feeling and continued down the hall.
I wished I hadn’t.
I wished I had stayed by her side the entire night. The entire week.
Wished I had attached myself so securely beside her, there would be no way for her to leave me.
How could I have known this would be the last time I ever saw her alive?
1
REIGN
Three Months Later…
Iclosed my eyes and let out a long exhale of the cigarette smoke I had been holding in my mouth, feeling some of the tension easing away from me at last.
For a moment, everything was quiet—from the outside world to all the fucking thoughts in my head.
For one brief, blissful moment, peace was achieved.
But like all good things, it ended much too soon.
Someone snapped their fingers in front of my face, and I opened my eyes to take in the annoying face of Baran Bocharov. The fucker was shooting me a stupid grin, his pupils expanding, taking over the greens in his eyes. He was high.
I didn’t react to him. He seemed to take that as a challenge and sat down right next to me. I didn’t move away to make any room for him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, moving in closer. I leaned forward and stubbed the butt of my cigarette out on the ashtray on the coffee table before the stupid fucker could burn himself. He smelled of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and desperation.
“What’s up, my brother?”
I shook my head. “I think it’s time for you to go home.”
“Home?” He looked offended by the word. “The party is just getting started.”
I looked down at my watch. It was nearing midnight. And he was right—the party was just getting started. I let out a small, tired sigh. Baran was like the rat fromCinderella. His true self would show at midnight, and no one wanted to be around for that shit.
Plus, we were getting too old for this shit.
It was a damn good thing it was only Baran and me here tonight. Had Makar and Fabian come along, I would have had to hunt them down before they could cause any more trouble than necessary.
When the hell didIbecome the responsible one in our group?
