Bared Souls - Ellie Wade Page 0,35

a mouthful. Your parents really did hate you, didn’t they?” I kid.

“I told you.” She shrugs and then goes into the story of her name, which is fascinating.

I like the idea her parents had of combining names, and even though her name is different, it fits her perfectly. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met, and she should have a unique name.

“It fits you, your name,” I say. “You could never be an Emma, Olivia, Ava, or Sophia.”

“Why? I could pull off a Sophia”

“Nah, they’re too common, and you’re anything but.” I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She blushes and changes the subject. “Enough about me. What’s your story? Start with this house. No one your age has a house like this.”

“My dad bought it for me.”

“Pretty nice dad,” she says.

“He’s anything but. He’s a horrible person. Money doesn’t mean you’re good, and it definitely doesn’t mean you’re happy.” My tone is harsher than I intended.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

I cut her off, “It’s fine, Alma. It’s just that my dad is one of the worst humans alive, and my mom and brother are right behind him. I’m not close with my family either. But that’s the difference between us. Where you used your adversity to make you a better person, mine gave me an excuse to be worse.”

Now, I get it. I am the darkness that lurks in the shadows, and she is the light. My shadow of a soul can only exist where there is light. Without her, I’ll keep slipping into the blackness until I can’t find my way out. Alma, with her soul of goodness, is my one chance at anything resembling happiness, and I know that I’m selfish enough to take it.

SEVENTEEN

Alma

The scream jolts me awake, and I fling off the blankets in a panic as I gather my bearings.

His voice is pained as he cries, “Please, no! Please, stop! Stop! No!”

His agony is visceral, and tears well in my eyes at its sound.

Leo.

I spin in bed to face him. “Leo.” I grab ahold of his shoulders and shake him. “Leo, you’re dreaming. Wake up.”

His body is rigid, petrified as he whimpers, still trapped in the nightmare playing in his head.

“Leo!” I scream, desperate to free him from the demons.

He gasps and bolts up into a seated position. His chest heaves as his vicious breathing calms.

“Alma?” he murmurs, confused.

“I’m here,” I reassure him, bringing my palm to his cheek. He leans into my touch. “It was just a nightmare. It’s okay.”

“Alma?” he utters my name again.

“It’s me. I’m here.” I pull his head against me and brush my fingers through his sweaty strands.

“Please don’t leave me,” he implores, terror saturating his words.

“I’m not. I’m right here.” I kiss his forehead. “Shh,” I whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He lies back down against his pillow. “I need you,” he sighs before sleep pulls him under.

I scoot in next to him and wrap my arm around him. My fingertips drag lightly against the skin of his forearm, and I listen to his deep breaths.

What has this beautiful man been through?

My heart shudders as I think about what kind of trauma would cause that level of pain. The raw hurt that radiated through his cries was evidence of his torment.

I’m unable to fall back asleep, so I lie here. Listening. Thinking.

The past couple of days have been great. Leo’s been normal and kind. I can’t help but get my hopes up that things could be real between us. It’s clear that we’re drawn toward one another. The crazy attraction we have is palpable, a tether between us that keeps us connected. I don’t understand it, but it’s there. I feel it every time I think of him.

Last night, we sat at his table and did homework together, like a regular college couple would do. He was true to his word that he wouldn’t pressure me to do anything sexually. We kissed and cuddled and kept our clothes on. As much as I love when he touches me, I need to know that we’re more than that. The second that Leo’s hands and mouth are on me, I can’t think straight, and I question if what I’m feeling is real or simply lust.

I want to be with Leo. Perhaps it’s a bad call, given our history, but I can’t deny that I do. I need to trust that he’s in it, truly in it with me. I need stability, and I’m terrified of falling in too deep

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