you lied to the sheriff earlier today. You might have fooled him, but I can tell when you’re lying.”
He’s said this before. “Because you’re an angel?” I ask, unsure if that’s a stupid question or not.
He shakes his head above me. “No. Because I know you, Benji.”
“You say that,” I say slowly. “You say you’ve watched me for I don’t know how long and—”
“Since you arrived here,” Cal interrupts, pressing harder against my back. I almost arch into it.
“What?”
“I’ve watched you since you were born,” he says. “You were mine from the beginning, just like the rest of the people in Roseland. The moment you crossed back into the town after coming home from the hospital, you were mine. That was a good day.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “It was?”
“Yes. I was very happy that day. But you haven’t answered my question. Why were you up at that house?”
“That was the night I was looking for you,” I say guiltily. “Griggs had come by the house and made those stupid threats, and I thought….”
“You thought what?”
Now I do try to pull away, but he doesn’t let me go. In fact, he pulls me back down to him and tightens his grip on my back. I put my face in his neck and inhale his earth scent. “I thought you might have gone up to his house. I thought you might try to send him away.”
“To where?”
“The black.”
Cal tenses beneath me. “So you thought I was going to attack him because of what he said?”
“I didn’t… I don’t know, Cal.” Like I don’t know anything about you. “You were pretty scary when you said that to him.”
A sharp intake of breath. “Do I scare you?” He sounds scared himself.
Does he scare me? If he does, it’s only because of the unknown, which I hate to admit makes up a big part of who he is. I tell myself I wouldn’t have just slept with him if I had feared him, but something inside me disagrees, telling me I probably would have done so regardless. He’s kinetic, dynamic, a moving storm over an open plain. He’s dry lightning, ozone-sharp and devastating. If there is fear there, it’s so wrapped up in everything else I don’t know how to separate it.
But I’ve waited too long to answer and he’s starting to breathe heavier underneath me. I prop myself up so I can look into his eyes. He’s wary, but doesn’t look away. “Should I be scared of you?” I ask him.
He opens his mouth and closes it again almost immediately. He furrows his brow and frowns. “I don’t want you to be,” he says finally. “But maybe you should be. Regardless, you shouldn’t have gone to his house, Benji. He could have hurt you. You need to stay away from him.” This seems like a slip on his part and he winces.
“Why do you say that?” I ask him, refusing to ignore it.
“He’s not a good man, I think.”
“You think? Or you know?”
He looks away and I can’t stop myself from leaning down and brushing my lips against his rough cheek. “I’ve been trying,” he mutters, leaning into my lips.
“Trying what?” I say against his face.
“There’s this… knot… in my head. I’m trying to untangle it, but the more I pull, the tighter it gets. I can remember certain things. I can remember many things. I remember Roseland becoming mine, only seven people here. I remember watching it grow. The buildings. The houses. The people. Many were good. Some were not. But it didn’t matter, because they were mine. I wasn’t made to judge. That is not my job. I was made to assist them, because sometimes, people need a little help. Just a nudge.” He shakes his head. “You think that God is some all-powerful being, and maybe he is. But I don’t understand. If he’s supposed to be, then why is there a need for someone such as me? Why is there need for other guardians? Or why is there need for any angels at all?
“If he really wanted it, nothing bad would ever have to happen. There would be no need for someone such as me. The threads are knotted in my head and chest and I want them to separate, but I don’t know what that would make me. What is God doing? Why do I exist, Benji? Why must I follow these threads? Why do I have control over certain things, but can’t stop others?”