Page 8 of Fear the Fall

“It’s not a challenge; it’s a flat-out refusal,” I shoot back, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave me alone.

I’m tired of this dance we’re doing. A part of me wants to give in, but I know it’s not in either of our best interests. Why can’t he allow me to do the right thing?

“I could never have an honest relationship with anyone else, Tori. Even if I did try to share my past with someone, I couldn’t tell them everything. There will always be that divide, and it’s not what I want in a relationship.”

“We want different things. Where I’m going, a relationship isn’t possible.”

“When are you going to realize that’s impossible?”

He doesn’t attempt to hide his loneliness, and it’s a feeling I know well. I utilize hunting as a way to pretend I don’t need anyone. His vulnerability cracks a layer of ice around my heart, because no matter what, I do care about what happens to Zeke. What he did for me at the beginning I can never repay.

“I know your opinion on the matter, Zeke, but I disagree. It would be unfair for me to tell you otherwise.” I puff out my cheeks. “I need you to stop. Maybe we can hunt together,” I offer, hoping this gives him motivation to lay off, “but nothing more can happen.”

He nods. “Fair enough. I’ll take your friendship.”

“The innuendos? Will those stop too?” I ask with a quirked brow.

He puts up three fingers in the Boy Scout salute. “On my honor.”

“Hmmm.” I purse my lips and consider his vow. He seems sincere, and if I’m really honest, I owe him an apology. I’ve been overly rude just to keep him at arm’s length, and all because of my own screwups. Not his. Not that I’ll admit that to him.

“Fine. Truce,” I say. “But you’re buying me dinner.”

He laughs. “So, I’m buying my friends now?”

“Who said anything about friends?” I grin wickedly.

“You’re a tough nut to crack, Victoria English, but I think I’m wearing you down.”

“Buy me a beignet, and you’ll be a little closer to the mark.”

We walk in companionable silence through the heart of Jackson Square. Vendors line the streets, selling everything from trinkets to card readings. A light fog blankets the ground, while the low glow from the streetlamps casts an eerie haze over the area. I pull my jacket tighter around me, staving off the chill.

“Miss, would you like a reading?” an elderly woman with a hunched back asks from her chair.

“No, thank you,” I say, shaking my head.

She stands on wobbly legs, making her way toward me. I keep walking, as that’s what you do in Jackson Square. If you make conversation, you’ll get talked into buying just about anything.

With my head turned forward, I don’t see what jerks me backward. I spin around to the haggard woman staring up at me, mouth agape. How did she make it to me so quickly?

“You’re shrouded in darkness,” the woman says, voice shaking. “I-I can’t see your light. Who are you?” she murmurs, and I pull out of her grasp.

“You shouldn’t touch people,” I grate through my teeth. “Never know what you’ll stumble across.”

Her eyes are wide, scared even.

“Something evil possesses your soul.”

“Yeah, well. Tell me something I don’t know,” I hiss, walking away without another word.

“What the hell was that about?” Zeke asks, lips forming a thin line.

“She’s nuts?” I offer, knowing she isn’t.

I might not consider myself evil, but according to Heaven, that’s exactly what I became the moment I fell. And the evil that possesses my soul? I’ve been trying to run from it since that very day.

A shiver courses through me, and Zeke pulls me in to his side. My initial reaction is to remain in the comfort of his warm, strong arm, but I resist, shrugging out of his grip. I don’t need to send mixed signals.

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