The Heart's Ashes
Page 73
Jason’s troubled gaze fixed on the ground beside our feet. He remained close, trapping me between the edge of the lake and his broad chest. “For what it’s worth—” He paused, tapping his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “I loved her, once. And when she came to me yesterday, I—I never meant to hur—” He stopped talking again, tilting his head as a broad smile smeared across his lips. “You blame yourself for what happened to her.”
“I—” I looked down. “I never had any such thought.”
“Yes, you did. Just…very deep down.” His mouth fell open a little. “It wasn’t your fault, Ara.”
“Yes, it was. I shouldn’t have told her about you. But worse—”
“No.” He cupped his thumb to my lip, his warm green eyes searching mine. “You have to stop this self-defeating behaviour, girl. There are two people to blame for this, and that’s her—” he pressed his hand to his chest, “and me.”
“But—”
“No.” He slid both hands along my cheeks, resting his thumbs on my lips; I tugged away and wiped the eerie crawl of his touch from my skin. “If you think, or say one more thing I don’t like, Ara, you’re going in the lake.”
“You wouldn’t,” I challenged.
“Try me.” He grinned.
I shuffled my feet; the lake was barely an inch behind my heels; it’d take one shove and I’d be driving home saturated—again.
“You know what?” He shook his head softly, his grin spreading further across his cheeks. “I think I’ll do it anyway.”
“No!” I squealed, digging my elbow into his chest as he swept me off the ground and carried me—so close to him—then launched us both into the refreshingly icy liquid. “Uh, that’s freezing!” I wiped my palms over my face, pushing the beads of water over the back of my head.
“Yes, I know.”
“Why did you do that?” I screamed at him, splashing water in his face. “I didn’t do anything to you!”
He chuckled loudly and grabbed my floundering hands, pinning them to his chest as he waded closer and looked down at me. The bright sun glared behind him, making his wet hair glow white on top and the beads of water, gathered on the ends of his lashes, sparkle. “You needed a wake-up call, Ara,” he said then released my struggling hands. “Not everything is your fault, and blaming yourself won’t take the pain away.”
“What would you know?” I called as Jason walked to the edge of the lake, leaving me behind.
“More than you might think, little girl.”
“I’m not a little girl.” I splashed my hands in the water.
“Then act like a grown-up,” he called back.
“Screw you.” I folded my arms and turned away.
“Real mature.” He appeared in front of my face, but it didn’t startle me this time. “Believe it or not, Ara-Rose, the world is not out to harm you—and there are a few insignificant people in it that happen to care for you and how you feel.”
I backed away in unison with each of his advancing steps; “I hope you don’t class yourself as one of those people?”
He stopped walking. “See? You already know the truth of that, or you wouldn’t have asked it.”
“You assume too much.” I turned away; he grabbed my arm to stop me.
“Assumptions are not my weakness, Ara.”
“No, violence is.” I shook his hand off.
“No—love is.”
Love. Pah! He stayed put as I walked out of the water. “If you knew the meaning of love, you wouldn’t have bitten Emily.”
“Really.” He stood beside me. “And if you knew what love was, you wouldn’t have a burning desire to give yourself to Mike.”
I sank back on my heels, a mighty huff escaping my lips as I folded my arms.
“Yeah, that’s right, isn’t it?” he said smugly. “That’s what all this is really about. Admit it, Ara. You don’t care that Emily’s a vampire; you don’t even care that I did it—you only care that Mike hates you and won’t give you what you want from him now.”
“What I want from him? Like what?”
“His love, attention, affection.” He came closer with each word.
“What would you know about it? You don’t know me; you don’t have any idea what I want.”
He smiled down at the water dripping from my skirt. “I’ve been watching you, Ara. You love him—and you shouldn’t. When you think about him, you get hot.” He moved closer. “Hot, in places you shouldn’t.”
The air coming into my throat shook. I shuffled my feet closer together. “That has nothing to do with you.”
“But it does.” His breath touched my forehead, warm and sugary. “Because you get the same heat, the same racing in your chest, when I touch you.”
Feeling small, I looked up into his eyes, letting him stroke my cheek with the back of his finger. “I hope you’re not implying that I have feelings for you,” I managed to say.
“No,” he said, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. “When it comes to you, emotions have nothing to do with sex.”
“Sex?”
“Not just sex, but...everything leading up to it.”
“What are you saying?” I placed my hands on my hips.
“I’m saying, you like touch—you need it.” He smiled. “You’re not like other girls, Ara. How you feel in here—” he touched my chest, “is separate to what you want—” he edged his fingers closer to my skirt and stopped short, “here.”
My breath shook as my mind searched for clarity, fighting the images of desires I wasn’t sure were mine or merely forced upon me by his own sick needs to make me think I loved him.
“I’m not making you picture those, Ara, you’re doing that yourself.”
“Why?” I asked, aiming my question at him, myself and God.
Jason glanced over his shoulder again. “Will you meet me? Tonight?”
“What?”
“Meet me,” he added more hurriedly. “And I’ll tell you.”
“Why would I do that?” Do I look crazy?
“No, but you’ll meet me anyway.”
“I—” I looked down. “I never had any such thought.”
“Yes, you did. Just…very deep down.” His mouth fell open a little. “It wasn’t your fault, Ara.”
“Yes, it was. I shouldn’t have told her about you. But worse—”
“No.” He cupped his thumb to my lip, his warm green eyes searching mine. “You have to stop this self-defeating behaviour, girl. There are two people to blame for this, and that’s her—” he pressed his hand to his chest, “and me.”
“But—”
“No.” He slid both hands along my cheeks, resting his thumbs on my lips; I tugged away and wiped the eerie crawl of his touch from my skin. “If you think, or say one more thing I don’t like, Ara, you’re going in the lake.”
“You wouldn’t,” I challenged.
“Try me.” He grinned.
I shuffled my feet; the lake was barely an inch behind my heels; it’d take one shove and I’d be driving home saturated—again.
“You know what?” He shook his head softly, his grin spreading further across his cheeks. “I think I’ll do it anyway.”
“No!” I squealed, digging my elbow into his chest as he swept me off the ground and carried me—so close to him—then launched us both into the refreshingly icy liquid. “Uh, that’s freezing!” I wiped my palms over my face, pushing the beads of water over the back of my head.
“Yes, I know.”
“Why did you do that?” I screamed at him, splashing water in his face. “I didn’t do anything to you!”
He chuckled loudly and grabbed my floundering hands, pinning them to his chest as he waded closer and looked down at me. The bright sun glared behind him, making his wet hair glow white on top and the beads of water, gathered on the ends of his lashes, sparkle. “You needed a wake-up call, Ara,” he said then released my struggling hands. “Not everything is your fault, and blaming yourself won’t take the pain away.”
“What would you know?” I called as Jason walked to the edge of the lake, leaving me behind.
“More than you might think, little girl.”
“I’m not a little girl.” I splashed my hands in the water.
“Then act like a grown-up,” he called back.
“Screw you.” I folded my arms and turned away.
“Real mature.” He appeared in front of my face, but it didn’t startle me this time. “Believe it or not, Ara-Rose, the world is not out to harm you—and there are a few insignificant people in it that happen to care for you and how you feel.”
I backed away in unison with each of his advancing steps; “I hope you don’t class yourself as one of those people?”
He stopped walking. “See? You already know the truth of that, or you wouldn’t have asked it.”
“You assume too much.” I turned away; he grabbed my arm to stop me.
“Assumptions are not my weakness, Ara.”
“No, violence is.” I shook his hand off.
“No—love is.”
Love. Pah! He stayed put as I walked out of the water. “If you knew the meaning of love, you wouldn’t have bitten Emily.”
“Really.” He stood beside me. “And if you knew what love was, you wouldn’t have a burning desire to give yourself to Mike.”
I sank back on my heels, a mighty huff escaping my lips as I folded my arms.
“Yeah, that’s right, isn’t it?” he said smugly. “That’s what all this is really about. Admit it, Ara. You don’t care that Emily’s a vampire; you don’t even care that I did it—you only care that Mike hates you and won’t give you what you want from him now.”
“What I want from him? Like what?”
“His love, attention, affection.” He came closer with each word.
“What would you know about it? You don’t know me; you don’t have any idea what I want.”
He smiled down at the water dripping from my skirt. “I’ve been watching you, Ara. You love him—and you shouldn’t. When you think about him, you get hot.” He moved closer. “Hot, in places you shouldn’t.”
The air coming into my throat shook. I shuffled my feet closer together. “That has nothing to do with you.”
“But it does.” His breath touched my forehead, warm and sugary. “Because you get the same heat, the same racing in your chest, when I touch you.”
Feeling small, I looked up into his eyes, letting him stroke my cheek with the back of his finger. “I hope you’re not implying that I have feelings for you,” I managed to say.
“No,” he said, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. “When it comes to you, emotions have nothing to do with sex.”
“Sex?”
“Not just sex, but...everything leading up to it.”
“What are you saying?” I placed my hands on my hips.
“I’m saying, you like touch—you need it.” He smiled. “You’re not like other girls, Ara. How you feel in here—” he touched my chest, “is separate to what you want—” he edged his fingers closer to my skirt and stopped short, “here.”
My breath shook as my mind searched for clarity, fighting the images of desires I wasn’t sure were mine or merely forced upon me by his own sick needs to make me think I loved him.
“I’m not making you picture those, Ara, you’re doing that yourself.”
“Why?” I asked, aiming my question at him, myself and God.
Jason glanced over his shoulder again. “Will you meet me? Tonight?”
“What?”
“Meet me,” he added more hurriedly. “And I’ll tell you.”
“Why would I do that?” Do I look crazy?
“No, but you’ll meet me anyway.”
