Dead Girls Never Talk

Fire erupted inside my core, and memories flooded me so quickly that my foot slipped. A gasp rushed out of my mouth, and when a large, warm hand landed on my bare thigh, every amount of oxygen rushed out of the room through any crevice it could find. His fingers dug into my flesh, biting the skin so roughly that my nerve endings fried, leaving a trail of heat all the way up to the spot between my legs.

“Breathe,” Cade commanded. The whisper left his mouth and landed on my bare flesh. His fingers stayed glued to my skin as mine dug into the shelf in front of me. My nails scratched along the wood as I let my eyes fall, landing on his steely expression. His pupils were dilated, and I couldn’t see the golden flakes I was used to.

“You do remember, right?” he asked as his fingers undug themselves from my skin. Chills rained down over my smooth legs as he pushed my leg back up to its rightful spot on the shelf edge. The goosebumps were replaced with heat as he slowly brought his hand down past the curve of my knee, all the way to my ankle, before dropping it all together.

His chest was rising, but mine was unmoving. My lungs burned to breathe, but I kept them closed off until he took a step away, and that was when I finally turned and let out a held breath.

Cade sounded nothing like the boy I was used to as he swiftly turned around and leaned his back against the same shelf I was half-climbing. “Is this how it’s gonna go, Journ?” His words were laced with something gravelly—like hate. I’d heard this voice before, and it wasn’t one he ever used with me. “You’re gonna run away when I try to talk to you, pretend like you don’t see me staring at you?”

I said nothing. Instead, I continued on with my search of scanning the tiny letters that were printed on the ends of the files up on the top shelf. Cade Walker does not exist, and your heart does not beat for a boy who potentially set you up for death. I glanced down fleetingly with my last thought, catching him peering up at me with the muscles against his temples rocking back and forth.

I flinched internally when his eyes narrowed. “Nice outfit.”

“Do you have a problem with it?” I bit back, likely shocking him. My heart hurts, and I don’t like it.

He scoffed as I leveled my chin and found the letter S, making my way down to the last name Smith. Despite there being over two million people in the world with the last name Smith—which was given to me by Sister Mary—there was only one file with that printed on it. My fingers gripped the manilla folder with a tight grasp, and I jumped down from the shelf, landing with a soft thud right in front of Cade.

We were on level ground now, our chests almost touching, and that was when he scanned me from head to toe again, making my heart beat a little faster than before. I miss him. It was the one emotion I couldn’t seem to turn off when it mattered the most. I also liked his eyes on me, and that may have meant I had a death wish.

Cade ignored my question as he flung himself from the bookshelf in my direction. Panic fled me from behind, and I quickly turned around, taking his spot with my back pressed to the books. They weren’t so comforting now. In fact, I wished one of those books would open up and swallow me whole at this very moment.

“Why do you keep running from me, Journey?” His tone had subdued a little, like he was curious rather than angry, which only caused jitters to enter my belly. He was suddenly hiding his emotions, and I’d learned the hard way that it was better to know what someone was feeling rather than not. “Are you angry with me? Or are you afraid of me?”

He could see right through me. Cade knew me, and even though I’d been gone for most of the school year and some things had changed, my heart was still the same.

“I’m not afraid of you.” Am I? Standing here, looking at him, I knew the answer to that question. I should have been afraid because the truth of that night was buried deep underneath a layer of snow and dirt out in the courtyard. But I was feeling something other than fear, and the only way I knew how to crumble it before it grew into an avalanche was to get angry.

Cade’s head tilted, and my soul begged to see those dimples on his cheeks that were like a glimpse of sunshine. “You’re not?” His eyebrow lifted as a slight grin laced with deception curved onto his cheek, like he was ready to prove me wrong.

“I think it’s the opposite, Cade,” I whispered in a low voice, chest rapidly gaining traction.

“You think I’m afraid of you?” he asked, fully skeptical. He took a step forward, and I gritted my teeth as I dropped the file to the ground, allowing its contents to float over the soft carpet.

My voice was shaky, and it proved right there that I was afraid. Just a little. But not for the reason I should have been. My fingers trembled as I pulled one sleeve down over my hand and pushed it over my bare shoulder. I had to admit, my outfit was skimpy, and it was even worse with the leather jacket falling to the floor. My confidence wavered as cool air hit the thick, red lines running vertically along my forearms, realizing this was different than before. At the psych hospital, I didn’t care who saw them. No one cared about scars at that place, on the outside or inside. But here? Standing in front of Cade with his stern expression glued to my face instead of my arms bubbled with goosebumps? I wasn't feeling so sure of myself.

I dug the heels of my feet into the carpet below me, pushing myself further into the bookshelf, and met his gaze for what it was. “I don’t think you’re afraid of me,” I whispered. “I think you're afraid of these.” I dropped my head, staring at my arms with too many emotions, none of which were shame, like most people would assume. When I peeked back up at Cade, with my heart thudding in my chest like a drum, his jaw was tight, and his face was growing red with rage. “You’re afraid of them, right? You won’t even look at them.”

He made no move to glance down. Instead, he snapped back a response. “Is that why you won’t even look at me? Because you’re afraid of me? It’s safe to assume that’s the reason if you can assume just the same about me.”

Annoyed that I wasn’t winning this…argument, I raised my hands and pushed them against his hard chest like I wanted to do earlier at the claiming. Resentment and anger outweighed my suspicions, and my insides rioted. “I’m not afraid of you!” I gritted, shoving hard.

Cade didn’t move.

He didn’t even flinch with surprise.

Instead, his hand wrapped itself around my slim neck, and he suddenly crowded my space, taking all the air with him. A gasp got stuck in my throat as he quickly moved me to the side to avoid a falling book from the top shelf, only to put me back in my rightful spot with his knee tucked in between my bare legs.

My hand gripped his wrist tightly, so tight my nails dug into his skin, but he didn’t wince. His hand around my neck wasn’t so hard that I couldn’t breathe, but hard enough to gain my full attention. My throat bobbed against his palm, and angry breaths left me as I stared into his darkened eyes. “Why are you afraid of me, Journey?” His warm, slightly intoxicated breath hit my face, and I inhaled like I was starving for him. The slight movement of his finger rubbing against the side of my neck that he’d marked once before caused a familiar feeling to nestle itself into my core. “Why is your pulse racing? Is it fear? Or something else?”

Both.And I was certain that meant I was completely insane.

“I thought you may be angry with me.” Cade looked away, his hand still curved against my neck. I knew he was strong enough to strangle me if he wanted, but I also knew he wouldn’t, which probably should have told me right there that, deep down, I wasn’t as afraid of him as I originally thought. “I even thought you might slap me for standing you up that night.”

I swallowed against his palm, and I knew he could feel my pulse racing even faster the more he talked about that night. I jumped in his grip when he whipped his attention back to me quickly.

“But I never, ever fucking thought you’d do this…” A small whimper left me when Cade’s other hand slapped my arm up above my head, causing another book to fall beside us. His long finger sent sparks to the raised scar as he trailed the length up and down again. “To yourself.”

Anger and desire swarmed me, and I curved my chest and pushed it against his, causing his already dark eyes to darken further. He was hard against my front, and there was a wicked part buried inside of me that wanted to move against him, like no time had passed at all. Only, time had passed, and I wasn’t the same girl he was used to, and I wasn’t quite sure I knew him like I thought.