Page 16 of Dead Love

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“It’s all right, Kora,” I said. “You remember me from Mount Punica? I’m here to see if you’re alright.”

“And why wouldn’t I be all right?”

“Your friend died.”

Her expression went white, then as the color returned to her cheeks, she gritted her teeth. “My father is the sheriff. My mother will—”

“Tell me, flower. Is that what you want to do? Go to your parents for protection when you and I both know you’re capable of handling me, all by yourself?”

She shifted, her eyebrows squeezing together, not backing down. To say that she could handle me by herself was generous, but I knew it would appeal to that independent streak buried inside of her.

“For all they know, you’re dreaming,” I said. “Sleep-talking in a grief-induced dream.”

She tucked her long hair behind her ears, the need for sleep evident in her sunken eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” My lips pressed into an eerie curve. “I’m here to save you.”

Her jaw dropped. “From what? What could possibly be more dangerous than a man breaking into my bedroom?”

“You enjoy thinking of it that way, don’t you?” I tilted my head. “But you knew I was coming. That’s why you started leaving the window unlocked for me. You knew I was watching over you. Waiting for the right chance to speak.”

She held a hand to her chest, her eyelids fluttering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lying to herself, then. What a silly flower.

“Do you enjoy your life here?” I asked. “Staring out barred windows. A view of a fence. A garden on your windowsill.” I gestured all around us. “I could give you more than this.”

A slight tremor ran through her body, and she unconsciously spread her legs. “You’re the man from Nectar Latte.”

I nodded.

“The man from the flower field.”

I nodded again, a smile spreading across my face.

“The man from the viewpoint years ago.”

“You recognize me, then.”

She trembled, her eyes flickering around, searching for a sign,anything,on what she was supposed to do. But she found nothing.

“You want to save me?” she whispered. “From my home?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t.” She pulled the blanket up under her chin. “My mother would die without me.”

“There are far worse things than death,” I said. I stepped toward her, and the blanket fell from her grasp, dropping to her waist. The creamy silk of her babydoll shined in the moonlight. “Trust me.” I took another step closer to her bed. “This will all be easier if you go of your own free will.”

She shook her head. “I can’t leave my mother right now. She needs me.”

“Your mother wants someone to obsess over. Someone who will fall in line. But what about you, Kora? What do you want?”

Her eyes widened, those bushy brows tense. But she leaned closer to me, and with my boots touching the comforter of her bed, I knew I had her. I peered down at her body.

“Show me,” I murmured.