fingers laced behind his head. I needed to get that chip out of my finger. Why had I not seen it before? The Council was keeping tabs on me for sure. I spun the blade around in my palm, like I had done it a million times before, grinning as the sharp edge touched my skin. I wanted to feel it, the cut; I wanted to feel anything except the pins and needles that prevailed throughout my entire body. I wanted to see myself draw blood.
“Wait!” he shouted.
I looked up. “What?” My heart caught in my chest.
“You can’t just cut yourself open like that.”
“Umm, yes, I can.”
“No, you’re a girl and it’s ugly,” he said, snatching the blade from me and grabbing my palm in his.
“That’s the best you can do?” I smirked. “If you wanted to hold my hand…”
He smiled, pulling some kind of scanner over my fingers, and then frowned. “Other hand.”
“It’s that one, I am sure.”
“Just give me the other hand, Ava!” His impatience was showing.
He pulled my other hand to the scanner. “Why do girls always have to make things so complicated?”
“By ‘girls’, you mean you have had more than your fair share.” The pain burned like fire in my chest.
He grinned.
I huffed.
“What is the problem?” He lifted a brow, pausing the scanning process.
“I’ve heard and seen things,” I shared, suddenly aware of my former consciousness. I stared at him blankly, that particular memory flooding in with a bang. I caught my breath. I saw myself standing, waiting for a storm to consume me… girls’ laughter echoed through me. Troy had another, more than one that night on the beach when I was waiting on him, hoping he was my destiny. The storm whipped my hair over my face; I remember staring into the cold, distant water crashing below and then I fell, face first, yet the rush was amazing, the sadness holding me captive as I submerged beneath the icy, cold waters. I also remembered that Enoch and his voodoo had tricked me into believing Troy had caused that fall, that it was believed I had committed suicide over a boy.
“Ava.” He pressed his finger into my palm real hard, and I was thankful for the feeling of his skin on mine, of the warm pressure.
“I just… I remembered something.” My voice caught in my throat, the lump steadily dissolving as I came back to reality.
“Why does that happen?” I asked on a released breath.
“What?”
“Memories… when they hit, it’s not a memory. It’s like I’m living it all over again, but it’s as if I am living them for the first time.”
He had no answer to my question. His hazel eyes continued to search mine.
I smiled, but it was forced. “You and those girls, there have been many.” I could almost taste the revenge as I imagined slicing them open with the blade I had held a few moments ago.
“I’ve heard and seen things,” I repeated, like my brain was latching on to that memory. Had I really tried to kill myself over him? Was he really into me at all? I needed him to reassure me, I wasn’t sure where my mind was taking me.
“All nonsense!” he fumed.
“You are a liar,” I said.
“And you are judging.” He met my gaze strongly.
Damn, he got me there.
“I didn’t mean to judge.” I looked down. His hand grabbed mine again, and all that confusion and doubt floated away as life returned to my skin.
He simply nodded. “You never mean to do anything, do you?”
I snatched my hand from his. “Why would you say that?” I almost yelled.
“Is it not the truth, then?” he asked, all innocently.
I looked away, feeling the coldness wrap itself around my body. “You think you know me, that you’re always right.”
“But I am always right. And I wasn’t trying to be mean.” He stared blankly at me like it was pure fact.
“You can’t always be right.”
“Why not?”
I thought for a moment. “Because, you just can’t!”
“That’s the best you’ve got?” he said on a grin.
“Arrrh! Why do you have to
“Wait!” he shouted.
I looked up. “What?” My heart caught in my chest.
“You can’t just cut yourself open like that.”
“Umm, yes, I can.”
“No, you’re a girl and it’s ugly,” he said, snatching the blade from me and grabbing my palm in his.
“That’s the best you can do?” I smirked. “If you wanted to hold my hand…”
He smiled, pulling some kind of scanner over my fingers, and then frowned. “Other hand.”
“It’s that one, I am sure.”
“Just give me the other hand, Ava!” His impatience was showing.
He pulled my other hand to the scanner. “Why do girls always have to make things so complicated?”
“By ‘girls’, you mean you have had more than your fair share.” The pain burned like fire in my chest.
He grinned.
I huffed.
“What is the problem?” He lifted a brow, pausing the scanning process.
“I’ve heard and seen things,” I shared, suddenly aware of my former consciousness. I stared at him blankly, that particular memory flooding in with a bang. I caught my breath. I saw myself standing, waiting for a storm to consume me… girls’ laughter echoed through me. Troy had another, more than one that night on the beach when I was waiting on him, hoping he was my destiny. The storm whipped my hair over my face; I remember staring into the cold, distant water crashing below and then I fell, face first, yet the rush was amazing, the sadness holding me captive as I submerged beneath the icy, cold waters. I also remembered that Enoch and his voodoo had tricked me into believing Troy had caused that fall, that it was believed I had committed suicide over a boy.
“Ava.” He pressed his finger into my palm real hard, and I was thankful for the feeling of his skin on mine, of the warm pressure.
“I just… I remembered something.” My voice caught in my throat, the lump steadily dissolving as I came back to reality.
“Why does that happen?” I asked on a released breath.
“What?”
“Memories… when they hit, it’s not a memory. It’s like I’m living it all over again, but it’s as if I am living them for the first time.”
He had no answer to my question. His hazel eyes continued to search mine.
I smiled, but it was forced. “You and those girls, there have been many.” I could almost taste the revenge as I imagined slicing them open with the blade I had held a few moments ago.
“I’ve heard and seen things,” I repeated, like my brain was latching on to that memory. Had I really tried to kill myself over him? Was he really into me at all? I needed him to reassure me, I wasn’t sure where my mind was taking me.
“All nonsense!” he fumed.
“You are a liar,” I said.
“And you are judging.” He met my gaze strongly.
Damn, he got me there.
“I didn’t mean to judge.” I looked down. His hand grabbed mine again, and all that confusion and doubt floated away as life returned to my skin.
He simply nodded. “You never mean to do anything, do you?”
I snatched my hand from his. “Why would you say that?” I almost yelled.
“Is it not the truth, then?” he asked, all innocently.
I looked away, feeling the coldness wrap itself around my body. “You think you know me, that you’re always right.”
“But I am always right. And I wasn’t trying to be mean.” He stared blankly at me like it was pure fact.
“You can’t always be right.”
“Why not?”
I thought for a moment. “Because, you just can’t!”
“That’s the best you’ve got?” he said on a grin.
“Arrrh! Why do you have to
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