Page 115 of Chalk Outline

I wish you could rise from the ashes and return to me because no matter where I go, you’re the ghost haunting me, bleeding me dry, and opening the hollowness I was forced to become.

It hurts to know that I won’t get to share my life with you. Am I crazy for thinking about everything we’ve been through together and falling in love with you even more?

I caress the black smudges on the paper.

Our love is gasoline, fueling hearts that run on empty. The infernal regions might set the world on fire, and no amount of water will extinguish our burning flames. It wouldn’t take longfor us to combust with it. So, no more secrets. I’m done waiting. Even if she hates me for it, she needs to know I’m alive.

I’m alive.

And I never really left.

Chapter twenty-two

Winona Bishop

Is It Really You? — Sleep Token

Jason is sprawled on the couch, a bowl half-filled with Cheerios resting on his solid abs, his hand wrapped around it as it slightly moves with each breath he takes.

I grab the rifle, cock it, and aim at the empty beer bottle he left on the top rail.

Jason, you’re sweet, but…

I pull the trigger.

He jolts out of sleep like a cockroach. His limbs fly in the air as he tumbles off the couch with the bowl—the glass cracks in the middle, and his Cheerios scatter around him.

Payback’s a bitch.I chuckle to myself.

He sits there, contemplating the event, before reaching to grab the radio from the table.

“You crazy motherfucker,” he says in a groggy voice. The confusion surrounding him is priceless.

I bark out a laugh.

“Come on, Sunshine. We have work to do unless you’re only here for the view,” I quip with a wicked smirk.

“The view isn’t that bad, to be honest.” His gaze locks with mine. “What’s the plan, boss?”

“You’re coming here, and we’re going to look for the prison together,” I say as I go downstairs to eat breakfast.

“Subtle,” he replies. “Now I’ve got glass all over the balcony.”

“Careful, these things are sharp,” I tease.

“You’re such a brat.”

You know I am.

“I have a few things to take care of first.”

“See you later, Jason.”

I could be wrong, but my gut tells me I’m right.

He told me to trust my instincts, and I never stopped following them. I never stopped chasing the voice in my head that urged me to find him.

I feel like I’m dancing on landmines, and they’re about to go off and wake me from this dream.