Page 61 of Mortala
She's absolutely seething, arms are folded so tightly across her chest they look painful. Her eyes follow us across the parking lot with an intensity that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Is that normal? Seriously. What kind of friend gets that pissed because her friend agreed to leave with a guy? She looks less protective and more angry that Maddie chose me. She’s practically got smoke blowing out of her ears.
I curl my lip at her in disgust, because what the actual fuck is that, and turn away from her. I don’t bother looking back again, because the only person I care about is halfway across the parking lot already.
I catch up quickly, placing my hand on Maddie’s lower back. I can feel her stiffen at my touch and it feels like my heart was stabbed straight through my ribs. One month. That’s all it tookfor my touch to disturb her. I try to shake the thought away because at least she’s letting me keep my hand there.
I walk her to the passenger side of my Jeep and open the door for her, letting her in as she silently thanks me. It’s the little things with her that are slowly mending the broken.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but for now, I’ll fucking take it.
After the intensely awkwardand quiet drive, I walk Maddie into my apartment. She wouldn’t talk to me the entire way here, but I’m hoping being in my space will open her back up. We walk inside and I drop my keys in the dish, noticing there’s no note this time. Good. I hope that motherfucker stays out.
“Do you want a drink or something?” I ask as I walk to the fridge and grab myself a beer. “Water? Soda?”
“Uhh, no. Thanks, though.”
I watch as she looks around my space. She relaxes a little, the tension slowly easing from her shoulders. Hope stirs somewhere in my chest. Then she looks over at my bed, the blankets tangled together and pillows thrown wherever they landed when I crawled out of bed this morning.
I can tell just by looking at her that she’s thinking of the last time she was in it. What we did together. How I made her feel and the delicious sounds I dragged out of her. I can give her that again, I can give her everything if she would just fucking let me.
I set my beer on the counter and slowly make my way toward her. She senses me and turns in my direction, her body responding to me no matter how hard she tries to deny it. Can’tshe feel this thing between us? Our connection is so fucking intense, how could she not?
She inhales a deep breath and looks away, clearing her throat.
“Miles,” she whispers and I step into her, one finger slipping beneath her chin to lift her face toward mine.
Being this close to her is almost unbearable. She smells like coffee and vanilla, just enough to make every memory of her come crashing back all at once. My gaze drops to her full lips and I literally salivate at the thought of tasting them again. I drag my tongue across my bottom lip, her eyes immediately follow the movement. I know she wants me to kiss her just as much as I want to kiss her, but wanting and forgiving are two separate things.
And I don't think I can handle being rejected again.
“Tell me to do it, Madelyn.” My voice is rough, barely more than a whisper. “Just say the words and I’ll give you more than you could imagine.”
I run my hand along her neck and feel her pulse quicken. I cup her cheek and she breathes in, her eyes fluttering shut, and I wait for her response.
“Could you please show me the footage?”
There it is, that pesky rejection. I drop my hand and step away from her, accepting that she’s just not ready yet. She’ll get there, I just need to keep trying.
“Yeah. Give me a minute to pull it up.”
I walk over to my computer and pull up the security footage. As soon as the masked man appears on the screen, I hear her suck in a sharp breath. This is probably the closest she’s been to seeing this guy. I show her the clip of his face and she gasps.
I look between her and the screen, “What is it? Do you recognize him?”
She doesn’t say anything at first, but after a moment she finally says, “Can you zoom in, please? Th-the necklace. Zoom in on the necklace.”
I do what she asks, and I try to see what she’s seeing. She runs her finger along the necklace on the screen and tears up.
“Do you recognize it?”
“Y-yeah. It was my mother’s. I thought it was gone. I-I thought it was buried with her.”
My mind is racing, trying to make sense of what she just said. Why the fuck would someone have her mother’s necklace? She breaks, grasping at my shirt and, without thinking, I pull her into my arms. I hate that this is what’s bringing her back to me, but I’m selfish and just glad that I have her in my arms again. That it’smewho's bringing her comfort.
Minutes pass before her sobs finally quiet, but neither of us moves. My fingers drift slowly through her hair, careful not to pull at the curls, and little by little she relaxes into me.
“Do you want to watch more of it? It could possibly help us find out who this is.” She shakes her head against me, and I’m too selfish to pull her away. I just want to be her comfort.
