Whispered Darkness by Jessica Sorensen Page 0,17
get rid of me by letting the truck crash off the cliffside?
Kingsley abruptly sets down the computer, scoots to the edge of the bed, and takes my hands in his. “I don’t even know if Grey made it up there. It’s just a theory and I …” He shakes his head, the muscles in his jaw pulsating. “This is hurting you. I never should’ve said anything.”
I suck back the tears. “No, I’m glad you did. I want to hear the truth, even if it’s hard to hear. I just … I hate that I don’t know what happened. Hopefully, if Grey and Foster do get arrested, you’ll be right and Grey will confess.” Honestly, I just wish I could find a way to remember, because this unknowingness, the emptiness inside my mind, is starting to drive me insane. I wish I could fill in the gaps.
Maybe hypo-therapy could work? Or Beth mentioned I have some sort of abilities. Perhaps if I can figure out what those are, I can figure out a way to fill in the gaps of my mind.
“I hope so, too.” He skims his finger along the back of my hand, causing a shiver to roll through my body. He does the movement again, and I shudder again.
His touch feels so unbearably amazing, and I think he may be catching on to that, because he repeatedly strokes the back of my hand. By the sixth time, I feel like I’m about to explode out of my skin. Well, that and kiss him. To avoid doing either, I try to focus on something else.
“Did you get your computer to turn on?” I ask, my breathless tone making me cringe.
He nods, sketching his finger along the back of my hand one more time before letting go. Then he picks up the computer and moves to hand it to me.
“You wanna log in to your email?” he asks.
Nodding, I sit down beside him, close enough that our legs touch. I have no desire to move away. In fact, I want to move closer, so I do. Then I take the laptop from him and open up the email I received from Death.
“Here’s the conversation we’ve had so far.” I show him the screen.
He slides one arm behind me and leans over my shoulder to read it. I can smell his cologne mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke as I watch him read what’s on the screen, probably looking like a freak. But I can’t help it. I feel so safe right now, something I thought I’d never feel again after that truck went off the cliff
I can’t help thinking about every missed moment I’ve ever had with him and the moments I did have before I stopped being his friend.
Why wasn’t I strong enough to see past Foster’s lies? Why couldn’t I see the truth? Why did I have to be so blind?
“You’re staring,” he says softly, his eyes remaining on the screen.
“I know.” I crack a smile. “Call it even for all those times you took photos of me.”
He glances at me, briefly assessing me. “I still can’t believe you’re not more upset about that.”
“It’s kind of flattering,” I admit. “And besides, the photos are beautiful … Are you gonna be a photographer one day?”
He gives a half-shrug, directing his concentration back to the screen. “I don’t know. I want to take some classes for it, but my dad has always said he’d only pay for me to go to real college. And that was before all this shit with Evalynn happened. Now I know he won’t give me a drop of money, which is fine. It’s not like I ever wanted to go to college, anyway. I just want to take some classes that I’m interested in. I know the local college has a few photography classes, and I was thinking about taking them, but that requires getting a full-time job. I can’t do that until this whole informant thing is over.”
“That makes sense, I guess.” I pause. “Do you have a part-time job right now?”
He nods, taping the cursor. “I work at that photography studio that’s next to the bank your mom works at.”
“How did I not know this?” As soon as the words leave my lips, I realize the answer. Because I hardly know anything about him. I used to know him until … well, I decided to end our friendship. “I don’t really know much about you. You should tell me some stuff.”
He arches