Authors: Emma Hart
I clear my throat, and he looks up. “How are you?”
“Fine. You?”
“Yeah, I'm good.” I glance behind him towards Braden's shut door.
“So you really are then? With him?”
“Kyle.”
“Sorry.” He holds his hands up. “Just... Be careful, yeah, Mads? I don't want to see him hurt you. You're too good for that.”
I touch his arm. “I won't, Kyle, don't worry.”
Braden's door opens, and he looks at us for a second before he registers it's Kyle I'm talking to. “Not chatting my girl up again, are you, Kyle?”
“Wouldn't dream of it, Braden,” he replies, his eyes on mine. “She's all yours.”
I look down and step around him towards Braden.
“Good thing, too. I'd hate to slam you against the wall again.”
I scoff, shaking my head and push past him into his room. What is it with males and their need to be absolute neanderthals?
I chuck my bag down, and he shuts the door. “What was that about?”
“You're asking
me
that?” I raise my eyebrows and look at him. “What was
that
about, Braden? Can I not even talk to Kyle now?”
“Of course you can, but excuse me for being a bit pissed when you're talking to him wearing my shirt.”
“Isn't that the point? Wearing
your
shirt. It's obvious who I 'belong' to, as you so eloquently put it last week, so there's no need to go all caveman on anyone who speaks to me.”
“How did I go caveman? 'Cause I don't get it.”
“'I'd hate to slam you against the wall again,'” I imitate his voice. “You'd love to pin him against a wall again for talking to me.”
“So what if I would? You're my girl.” He walks towards me and I tilt my head back to look at him.
“I'm not your property, Braden, and I won't be treated like I am!”
“You're mine, Maddie.” His hand cups my chin, and I knock it away.
“Don't treat me like I'm your possession, Braden, because that possessive streak doesn't go down well with me.” I turn, and he grasps my waist, pulling me back against him. His arms wrap around my waist, holding me tight to him.
“I'm not possessive over you, Maddie,” he says into my ear. “I'm protective, and there's a difference. I'd never try to control you or tell you what you can and can't do, but I know every guy in this frat house wants to be me right now – especially Kyle. And you know why? It's because you're so fucking beautiful.” My breath catches in my throat. “They all want you, but
I
have you, and there's not a chance I'm gonna risk one of them taking you from me, all right? So yes, Angel, yes, you are fucking mine!”
“You think I'm beautiful?” she whispers softly. Of course, that would be what she hears.
“Yeah.” I turn her face up to mine. “I do. You
are
beautiful, Maddie. Inside and out.”
And I'm being completely fucking honest. She's not hot, or fit, or bangable. She's beautiful, she's sexy and she's sweet.
She closes her eyes and, when she opens them, they're glistening with tears. Oh fuck.
“Did I say something wrong?”
She shakes her head and spins in my arms, sliding her arms around my waist. Her cheek presses against my chest and I feel her take a deep breath. I hold her to me tightly.
“No,” she whispers. “No you didn't.”
“Then why are you crying?”
Her shoulders shake, and she looks up at me, a smile on her face even though her eyes are filled with tears. “Because it makes me happy.”
“Good,” I whisper and kiss the corners of her eyes, kissing the tears away. “I like making you happy, Maddie.” And I do. For some reason, I do.
I pull her over to my bed and climb in, pulling the covers back and patting the space next to me. She slides in, my shirt raising up. I catch a glimpse of black silk panties. Holy
....
Doing my best to ignore the inappropriate thoughts running through my mind, I wrap my arms around her and pull her close to me, spooning her. She hugs my arm, and I breathe in the sharp apple scent of her hair, the ends tickling my nose.
She's molded to my body like she was made to fit there, and it's fucking unnerving. I'm not sure anyone else could fit against me the way she is right now.
I trace my finger along her arm and after a while her breathing evens out. I shift up to see her face. She's asleep – her eyes are closed, and her thick eyelashes are fanned out across her cheeks. Her lips are puckered in a slight pout, and I'd love to kiss them right now. I won't wake her though.
I lie back down next to her and pull her tighter to me, letting my eyes close shut.
~
I'm woken by an elbow in my cheek.
“The fuck?” I mumble and sit up, remembering Maddie next to me. “Maddie?”
I open my eyes, and she's shaking her head, still asleep. The TV casts a harsh glare over her, and I can see her lips moving, mumbling in her sleep. What's she saying?
“Maddie? Angel?” I push hair away from her face and she jolts awake, breathing frantically. Tears I didn't notice are streaming down her face. “Maddie?”
“Just a dream,” she whispers to herself. “Just a dream.”
“Angel, are you okay?”
Her eyes focus on me for the first time. She nods. “Just hold me. Please, Bray.”
“You know I will.” I tuck her into me, facing me this time – and I realize she called me Bray.
“Thank you,” she whispers, slipping her legs between mine and holding me tightly. Tears are still falling from her eyes. I can feel them as they drip from her eyes onto my shoulder and onto my pillow. I have no idea what to do. I have no idea why she's crying. I'm lost.
I make soothing noises in her ear and smooth her hair until she's quiet again.
There's more layers to this girl than I'll ever understand – but I'm starting to want to understand.
~
Maddie picks a piece of her muffin off and eats it.
“How do you stay so skinny?” I ask, amused.
“What do you mean?” She tilts her head to the side.
“I'm pretty sure I've seen you eat one of those muffins every single day for two weeks.”
“Only two weeks? I'm pretty sure I've eaten one of these muffins every day for at least eight months.” She casually shrugs a shoulder.
“And you look like that?” My eyes roam her body shamelessly.
“Fast metabolism.”
“Not that it would be an issue if you didn't have one. I'm sure I could think up a way to burn off those extra calories.” I wink at her, and she smirks.
“I'm sure you could think of several ways,” she replies. “Unfortunately, so can I, none of which probably agree with yours. They're all exercise.”
“I never said mine weren't exercise.”
“Sex does not count as exercise.” She looks at me pointedly. “In
any
position.”
“It burns calories,” I argue. “That counts as exercise.”
She sighs and shakes her head, but I can tell she's trying not to laugh. What? I make a damn good point.
“It's not a recognized form of exercise, Braden.”
“You called me Bray last night. I liked it.” I scrape her hair from her face with my fingers.
“Did I? When?”
“You, um... You had a nightmare, and I woke you. Then.”
“Oh.” She puts the muffin down. “Sorry.”
“Hey.” I make her look at me. “Don't be sorry. Do you have them often?”
Her eyes move from my face, looking out at the crystal clear water in front of us. “Sometimes. Less than I used to.”
“Why do you get them? I mean, what do you dream about?”
The silence is telling. I know what she's going to say before she even says it.
“The day my Mom died.”
“Maddie, we don't have to talk about this-”
“Talking helps, sometimes. I've just never had anyone to really talk to.”
I take her hand, slipping my fingers through hers. I rub the back of her hand with my thumb. “If you want to talk about it, then we'll talk.” I want her to talk to me about it.
She takes a deep breath, and in the silence, I wonder if she's going to speak. But she does.
“I have the nightmares because I watched her die.”
Fuck.
I remember it. I remember it like it was yesterday. Every detail is etched into my mind, and when I let myself remember – like now – it plays out like an old movie strip. The memories are cracked, a little fuzzy in some places, and sometimes the sound goes, but I still remember. I still know. I know it all.
“We'd been out for a girls night. It wasn't anything unusual. Once or twice a month, Mom insisted we had some girl time, and we headed for dinner and a movie, maybe some shopping. It was our time where we caught up on life. We talked boys, music, clothes. Everything.”
“It sounds like you were close.”
“We were.” A small smile graces my lips. “She was my best friend.”
“Tell me about her.”
“Everyone says I look like her, but I don't think so. Mom was beautiful. Sure, we had the same hair and the same green eyes, but she had this inner goodness that radiated out of her. She was always happy and smiling, always ready to lend a hand. She worked at a local youth center with young people addicted who were to drugs or homeless. Sometimes, when I'd go with her to volunteer on a weekend, I'd hear them talking about how amazing she was. She always brightened their day. Everyone loved her.
“But that night...”
We had been to the movies since it had been my choice for that particular girl’s night.
“Let's get some cotton candy,” Mom suggested, spying a vendor across the street.
“That's silly, Mom. It's eleven o'clock! Dad will be up waiting for us.”
“Oh, come on, Maddie Moo. Don't be a spoilsport.” She parked the car across from the vendor. “It'll only take two minutes. Promise.”
I sighed. “Okay, but you're crazy.”
She opened the door, glancing at me over her shoulder, her light, flowery smell seeming to strengthen in her excitement. She grinned, her eyes wide and mischievous, just like a child's. I couldn't help but grin back at her – she had the kind of smile that was infectious. I watched as she left the car and rifled through her purse for some change as she approached the vendor.
Bangs echoed from maybe a block away. Fireworks!
I rolled my window down and stuck my head out – then I heard the scream. Someone was screaming over and over. The bangs were getting louder and tires screeched-
“Maddie get down!” Mom yelled.
I began to shake and sat back in the car, wrenching the seat belt off me. I slid down my seat as the bangs ricocheted off the city buildings around me. I looked for Mom and then
...
Bang.
She began to fall.
I screamed.
A car sped past, the bangs finally registering in my brain as gun shots.
I crawled over the seats, reaching for the driver's side door. “Mom! Mom! No, Mom!” I yanked the door open and fell from the car, scrambling to my feet. Gunpowder and smoke filled my nose, the thick smell wrapping around me.
A crowd had gathered, and I pushed my way through, shoving bodies and people away, screaming her name, needing to see her because she had to be okay, she had to be. Mom couldn't leave me because she was always meant to be there, always.
A
lwaysalwaysalways.
Braden reaches up and removes my hands from my ears, bringing me back to the here and now.
I can still hear the ringing from the shots in my ears. I can still hear the screams that drowned out the city nightlife. I can still feel the adrenaline as it pumped through my body, the fear as recognition dawned. It's still so real.
“That's where it gets fuzzy. I remember hearing sirens, and I remember being held back. I remember breaking free and shaking Mom to get her to wake up. She didn't. She couldn't. She'd taken a direct hit to her thigh. In the time it took for me to get out of the car and to her, she'd bled out. Alone, on a cold sidewalk in Brooklyn. She'd gone, and I never did anything to save her. I never should have let her leave the car for her stupid cotton candy.”
Fingers swipe under my eyes at the silent tears falling there. Braden moves and crouches in front of me, cupping my face. I look into his eyes, blue eyes, full of sorrow and sympathy.
“You're so strong, Angel,” he says softly. “Not many people would have got through that and still be here today, going on the way you do. You're amazing, you know that, right? I bet if she could see you now, she'd be so, so proud of you.”