Page 89
Chapter 25
Addie
“Not again,” I groaned, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Not a-fuckin-gain.”
The Calax hallucination took a trembling step towards me, wobbling like he didn’t know how to use his legs. His arms were extended, and his lower lip trembled.
Now I knew for sure I was hallucinating. The Calax I knew and loved never cried.
I waved him away dismissively.
“Shoo,” I said. “Go back to the corner of my mind where you belong.”
“Addie.” His voice was raspy, harsh, and sent tremors up and down my arms. My flesh erupted into goosebumps. How could his voice unravel me so, crumble the carefully constructed walls I’d erected around myself? Damn Fake Calax.
“My memory got this right,” I whispered hoarsely, taking a step backwards. “Your voice. I would recognize it anywhere.” Stepping closer, I grazed my finger over his neck, pulling away his hair as I went. He trembled almost delicately at my touch. “And right here. You have a mole. I noticed it before, but I didn’t say anything. You should probably get that checked out. You don’t want to get skin cancer.”
“For fuck’s sake, Baby-”
Tears flooded my eyes.
“Callie used to call me baby,” I cried. His gorgeous golden-flecked eyes widened in his face as something akin to realization twisted his features. He cursed under his breath and stomped towards me, eating up the distance in two long strides.
I had to lift my head to maintain eye-contact, but I refused to look away for even a second. He might’ve been a figment of my imagination, but he was still Calax. My mortal enemy. My arch-nemesis. One of the loves of my life. He was a mirage of water after I’d been traipsing through the desert for days. A sight so sweet and beautiful, yet so sinfully deadly. Looking at him, seeing him, was balancing precariously on a sharp sword. One wrong move, and you would impale yourself, blood dripping down the keen blade.
But fuck, if it wasn’t the sweetest way to die.
“Addie, Baby, listen to me.” Fake Calax put his large hands on my shoulders. I stared down at the splatter of golden freckles on his knuckles. They weren’t as pronounced as I remembered them being. And there, on the back of his hand, was a tiny white scar. I never knew what he’d done to get it. “I’m here, Baby. I’m fucking here, and I’ll never leave you again.”
He moved so our foreheads were pressed together. His hot breath fanned against my face smelling vaguely of mint.
“Your breath smells good, Fake Calax,” I blurted out. “Like minty chocolate.”
“There was a sink and a toothbrush in our prison cells. And I just ate a brownie,” he said softly.
“Prison. I don’t like that word. It just sounds kind of...weird. Like, who the fuck says prison anymore? Actually, don’t answer that. I know a lot of people say that word, even though I think it should be banned. Maybe I’ll talk to the president, Fallon’s uncle apparently, about removing it from the dictionary. A prison-free country. Hmmm...I could get behind that.”
Before I could say more, could ramble more, Fake Calax’s chapped lips were devouring mine. I froze, heart racing, even as my hand snaked up to fist in his hair, tugging on the silky strands.
I’m making out with a hallucination.
“I’m real, Baby. I’m not a hallucination,” he murmured against my mouth, greedily pushing his tongue inside when I made a noise of protest. His warm lips moved to my neck, sucking and lapping at the skin. “What did you tell me so many months ago, when I thought you were dead? That you were a real girl. Well, I’m a real guy, and I fucking love you. Please come back to me, Addie. Don’t leave me. I need you.” His voice broke, quivered, and his lips against my skin turned desperate and needy.
“Oh fuck, Callie, I missed you so much.” It took all of my self-control, all of my effort, but I placed a hand on his chest and shoved. Like the real Calax, he stepped back immediately, though his eyes flashed with hurt and frustration. “I love you so damn much. And I miss you. And I want you to be real, I want you to be real so badly it’s a physical pain, but you’re not. I saw you die. The memories haunt me, but I know what’s real and what isn’t. And I wish you were fucking real and alive and in this prison with me, but you’re not. Calax, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”
My legs couldn’t support my body, and I collapsed to the ground, the carpeting softening my fall. Calax dropped to his knees and took my face in his hands, eyes emanating love and tenderness. He kept me tethered to the world, to the here and now.
“I’m real, Addie, and I’ll prove it to you.”
His lips once more claimed mine.
* * *
Calax
She was here. In the flesh. Alive.
In my arms.
Table of Contents
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