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Breathing Lies: (The Breathing Undead Series, Book 1)

Page 20

by Jessica Sorensen


  “Beth,” I whisper as I flop back down on the grass, my skin clammy, my chest and stomach sore from the vomiting. “Why do I feel so in tune with Kingsley? Is it because he saved me? Or is it because of something else?”

  She kneels down beside me. “It’s because of how he saved you.”

  I close my eyes as the pain inside me blazes. “And how exactly did he save me?”

  “By intertwining your souls.”

  My eyes pop open. “What? How… Huh?”

  “He doesn’t know he did it.” She starts to fade away. “You’ve been cursed with seeing the truth of the dead, which includes Kingsley.” Her voice is like the wind. “Use that curse to free him—to free all of us. To find the truth.” She dissolves before I get a chance to ask her questions.

  It probably doesn’t matter, though, since she rarely gives me straightforward answers.

  Still, her riddled words echo into my mind until it’s all I can hear or think about.

  Find the truth.

  Find the truth.

  Find the truth.

  Truth.

  Truth.

  Truth.

  Summoning a deep breath, I get up to do just that. And I won’t stop until I free the dead girls. And Kingsley, not just from jail but from his agonizing pain I can feel apparently in our intertwined souls.

  Twenty-Six

  Harlynn

  When I get into my house, I lock myself in my room. Then I send Porter a text so I can talk to him about whether or not I should come forward about Kingsley saving me. Not that I’m thrilled to be asking Porter for help. But it could be worse. I could have to ask Foster.

  He doesn’t respond, though, so while I wait for my parents to return home, I busy myself with searching online about this curse death has bestowed upon me, and the intertwining souls thing Beth mentioned. When my parents do show up, I know they’re going to bang on the door and demand some answers as to why I flipped the hell out.

  I wish I could tell them the truth, tell them what’s going on with me, and they’d simply understand. But it’s not going to be that easy, which I guess is okay. The complications can be my penance for how I treated Kingsley in the past, for the terrible person I was.

  Just like I expected, about a half an hour later, someone knocks on my door.

  “Harlynn, we need to talk about what happened,” my mom says, knocking on my door again.

  “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” I tell her as I scroll through the article I read the other day about the feather-shaped wound.

  Since Beth can’t give me answers and I haven’t been able to find out more online, I’m going to try to get ahold of the person who wrote this article and see if I can ask them some questions. Maybe if I can find out more about what’s going on with me, I can get closer to figuring out how I’m supposed to save all these girls. Because as of now, I have no clue where to start.

  “Harlynn,” my mom warns. “Open the damn door.”

  “Mom, I just need some space for a bit so I can try to process what just happened.”

  “I understand that, but the way you acted while you were over at the Avertonson’s… Something’s going on with you. I think something has been ever since the accident.”

  I need to tell her something so she’ll leave me alone.

  “I know,” I reply as I click on an Email the Author button at the bottom of the page. “And I think I should make an appointment with a therapist, like you suggested the other day.”

  She briefly pauses. “Okay, that sounds good. Do you want me to do that for you?”

  “No, I want—need to do it for myself.” And while I may not want to go to a therapist, I might have to so my mom can have peace of mind and give me some breathing room.

  “Okay… But I still don’t understand why you got so upset with Foster. He cares about you—you know that. And this has to be hard on him knowing that his own brother…” Her voice cracks. “I mean, Kingsley has gotten into trouble before, but this…”

  Anger simmers under my skin, but I remind myself to remain calm. That she’s only reacting this way because of how Kingsley’s parents portray him.

  “Mom, can you do me a favor?” I ask cautiously.

  “Of course.”

  “Can you please not just assume that Kingsley did this? From the bits and pieces I can remember about the night of the accident… It doesn’t seem like it was him. Plus, this Evalynn girl who supposedly witnessed the accident happen isn’t a reliable source. Trust me. I knew her in school and she stalked Foster.”

  “Wait…” She gives a short pause. “Was she the one who ruined Foster’s car that one time?”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh dear. I need to call Janie and see if she realizes it’s the same girl. But I think you and I should still talk about what happened, but not through a closed door.”

  Relief washes through me.

  I think I may have gotten her to question Kingsley being guilty. At least enough that she’s going to talk to Janie.

  I line my fingers to the keyboard, contemplating what I should type in the email. “Can you give me a few minutes?”

  It takes her a second to answer. “Okay… But I’ll be right out in the living room.”

  Great. At this rate, she’s never going give my space.

  Sighing, I focus on typing the email.

  Hey,

  I’m not sure how much you believe in the article you wrote, but I think I may be one of these people that died and came back to life marked with the Sight of Fallen Darkness. I’d really like to know more about it. If you could email me back, that’d be great.

  Sincerely,

  Dead Girl

  I shut my laptop and move to climb off the bed when my phone rings. When I glance at the screen, my heart nearly leaps out of my throat.

  “Hey?” I answer with a shaky breath.

  “Hey.” The sound of Kingsley’s voice makes my stomach flutter, and the pain in my chest momentarily dissipates. “I’m glad you answered. I was a bit worried you might not, considering… Well, I’m sure by now you know the full story of why I was arrested.”

  “I do, but I know you didn’t attempt to murder me.” I move to my closet to avoid risking my mom overhearing this conversation—I wouldn’t put it past her to be right outside my room instead of in the living room. “I was going to speak up and say that you saved me that night, but I’m not sure if you want me to. If you do, I will. In fact, please say you want me to.”

  “No, don’t,” he replies in a rush and my heart sinks. “The officer in charge of my informant case is going to handle this. He was with me at the lake, so he can speak for me as a witness that I didn’t do this. But he’s going to handle it discreetly so my cover doesn’t get blown.”

  Relief pours through me. “Okay. I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to. But how long will it be until you get out?”

  “It shouldn’t be too long. Hopefully by the end of the day because I have to be somewhere tonight.”

  “You mean in the drug world?” I crack a nervous joke.

  He chuckles and I feel the pain in my chest momentarily alleviate.

  Our souls are intertwined. Is that why I can feel what he’s feeling?

  “Yeah, pretty much.” He gives a brief pause. “But I’m still confused why someone said I did this.”

  “It was Evalynn. Do you know who she is?”

  “Vaguely. She went to our school, right? And had a stalking problem with Foster?”

  “Yeah, but I’m not so sure anymore if she was actually a stalker. In fact, I think she might secretly be friends with Foster.”

  A beat skips by.

  “How do you know it was her who said I hit the truck off the cliff?” he asks with a hint of puzzlement in his tone.

  “Foster told me, which I think is weird because last night I ran into Evalynn and she made a point to tell me she’d do anything for Foster.”

  Silence stretches across the line.
/>
  “You think Foster told her to say she saw me cause the accident?” he asks in a low tone.

  I slide down onto the floor and rest against the wall. “I’m not sure... Either it was just a strange coincidence she said that the night before this happened, or… yeah, I think he may have told her to say it.”

  More silence and I grow worried my accusations might be crossing a line.

  But then he says, “Can you stay away from Foster until I can look into this more?”

  “I wasn’t planning on going near him, so yeah, I’d be more than happy to. And besides, he’s leaving for school today anyway.”

  “Actually, he’s not. I called my mom right before I called you, and during our ten second conversation, she told me Foster was going to stay a few extra weeks to make sure everything’s okay with her and my dad. I think it was her way of making a point to remind me that he’s the good son. Of course, she made that point pretty fucking clear when she told me I was no longer part of the family and to stay out of contact with them. Then she hung up on me so yeah… I guess that’s that.”

  “Kingsley,” I whisper, sadness spreading through my chest.

  A sadness that doesn’t belong to me.

  There’s so much I want to say to him and ask him about, mainly about what Beth told me. How he may have tried to inflicted death upon himself. I want to take his pain away and trap it inside me. But I’m not sure where to start or if this is even a discussion we should have over the phone while he’s in jail. I want to see him when we speak so he can see my face, see that I speak the truth when I tell him that I’m glad he’s here, that he didn’t die.

  “No, it’s okay,” he utters before I can say anything else. “It’s not anything I haven’t heard before.”

  “Still…” I think about my mom sitting in the living room so she can be close to me and make sure I’m okay, like a good parent would do. Kingsley has never really had that, had someone who cared deeply about him. I know that now—can feel it. “I care about you. And I want you to be part of my life, and I want you to let me be part of yours.”

  The line grows so quiet I worry he hung up on me.

  “You don’t need to feel obligated to be nice to me just because I saved you,” he finally utters.

  Is that what he thinks?

  Can I really blame him for thinking that way?

  No, not with how I’ve treated him in the past.

  “I don’t feel obligated,” I swear. “I know I didn’t start being nice to you until after you saved me, but that’s only because I can see things clearer now. And I can see that you’re a good person. A person that I want in my life.” Who I want to kiss. Save. Take away your pain.

  “Okay… If that’s what you want.” He sounds defeated.

  I nervously chew on my thumbnail. “I do, but only if you want it too. I don’t want to force you to be my friend.”

  “Har… I’ve wanted to be your friend since the day I dug that hole in your backyard and you hugged me after we all got into trouble. No one had ever been that nice to me before and I… I just wish things could’ve been different between us.”

  Good god, that’s what he considers nice? A simple hug?

  “Things can be different now if you want them to be.” I hold my breath, waiting for him to respond.

  “I want,” he whispers. “I really do.”

  I free a trapped breath I wasn’t even aware I was holding.

  I can feel that he really wants this.

  “I want that too,” I say.

  “Good,” he says and I can feel the relief in him. But then he grows tense again. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you more when I get out of here. Be safe, okay? Don’t go outside at night alone and… stay away from my brother.”

  “I will,” I assure him.

  “All right.” A tiny drop of doubt resides in him. “I’ll talk to you later then.”

  “Okay.”

  He hangs up and I do the same with a sigh.

  He still acts as though he doesn’t fully believe me when I say I’m done with Foster. But I’ll prove to him that I am. I’ll have nothing to do with Foster. And I’m going to inform everyone that Foster and I aren’t dating.

  As I walk out of the closet, making all these vows to myself, my computer pings with an incoming email. I walk over to the bed where my laptop is and see that the author has responded to my message.

  I open up the message and read it:

  Dear Dead Girl,

  If you want to learn more about your gift, I can help you with that. But it’s going to take me a few days to set up a location where we can meet safely. I’ll be in touch. For now, be careful of the Death Stealers. If you haven’t figured out what those are, they’re the tainted souls that roam the earth looking for weak souls to feed on. If you see one, don’t trust it. They’re master manipulators and will try to trick you into doing something that’s evil and that benefits them.

  Sincerely,

  Death

  The entire email creeps the hell out of me, but them signing it as Death is beyond creepy.

  And what am I supposed to do when they email me back? Just go meet some stranger alone? No, I’m going to have to tell someone and since the only person I trust right now is Kingsley…

  Crap, I think I’m going to have to tell him about my curse. But if Beth was right and Kingsley once died and came back to life, maybe he’ll understand. In fact, I know he will. I can feel it.

  Can feel him inside me.

  It makes me wonder how he saved me that night.

  Beth said he intertwined our souls, but that he doesn’t know he did. What does that mean exactly? Because I couldn’t find anything about it on the internet. And at this point, the possibilities seem endless.

  “A lot of things are endless, especially death.”

  I jolt, spinning around. “Beth, why do you…” I trail off as I realize she’s not alone.

  Paige is standing beside her, only she’s not the Paige I remember, but a decaying skeleton of the girl I once knew. Beside her is a girl around my age that I’ve never seen before, and her hairstyle and torn dress look outdated.

  “What is this?” I whisper.

  “Your gift is growing stronger,” Beth says. “And until you save us, it’s going to get stronger and stronger until death is all you see.”

  “But I don’t even know where to begin to figure out how to save you?” I whisper as another dead girl with dark hair materializes behind them.

  “You’ll figure it out,” Beth says, blood dripping down her cheek.

  I force down a shaky breath. “And what if I don’t?”

  “Then the second life you’ve been given will fade away from you,” she replies ominously. “And the person who gave it to you—who tethered his soul to yours—will fade away as well. Fade into the darkness.”

  Then just as suddenly as the dead girls filled up my room, they fizzle away. And once again, I’m left trying to figure out the full meaning of Beth’s words.

  What did she mean by my second life, and the person's life that saved me, will fade away into the darkness if I don't save them? That I’ll fade away? That Kingsley will fade away?

  That we’ll both die?

  No, I won’t let that happen.

  I’ll make sure I find a way to save those girls.

  I’ll make sure I save Kingsley.

  Twenty-Seven

  Kingsley

  I can’t believe Foster might be the reason I’m here at the police station.

  No, I retract that statement. I can believe it. It sucks, though, knowing he hates me that much. The sucky part is my parents have started to hate me too. It’s not like they loved me that much to begin with, but at least before this happened, they didn’t disown me. But I guess it was a long time coming.

  It’s a good thing I’m used to dealing with this shit.

  And dealing with it alone.

  I haven’t always been as good at dealing with it, though. There was a point
in my life, when I was around thirteen, that I stopped wanting to deal with everything. When I tried to stop existing. The pain I constantly carried around, it was becoming unbearable. At least, I believed so at the time. But trying not to exist anymore didn’t work and I ended up coming back. I wasn’t the same person as I was before. My brief taste of death changed me, made me feel things I could barely comprehend. It’s why Harlynn’s statement of feeling different after she came back from death struck so close to home. I just hope she doesn’t struggle with her near-death experience as much as I did—it’s part of the reason why I got into drugs. But I don’t struggle with it so much anymore. I’ve gotten used to the difference in me.

  Well, I had until a few weeks ago after I saved Harlynn. And it only became worse when Harlynn started talking to me, touching me, letting me kiss her.

  Her lips are so soft… She tastes so good… Feels so good…

  I blink from the memory as a spark of fear zaps through me.

  A fear that doesn’t belong to me.

  Harlynn is frightened, but why?

  I massage my aching chest while glancing around at the empty room I’m being held in. I need to get out of here so I can go see Harlynn and find out what the hell is scaring her. But detective Brandlee said it could take a few hours for my release to be processed. I’m just glad I’m being released. And I’m glad Harlynn didn’t believe I actually did what I’ve been accused of.

  I could never do something like that to her or anyone else, no matter what people think of me. It makes me sick just thinking about her hurting. I’ve only ever wanted her safe.

  Deep down in the lightest parts of my darkened soul, I know I should keep my distance from her, that I’m not right for her, that I’m tainted. But she seems intent on getting close to me. And this thing… this growing connection I’ve been feeling with her for the last couple days is complicating things. How am I supposed to stay away from her when I can feel how much she wants to be around me, and all I can think about is wanting to be around her? But I question if she only wants me because I saved her.

 

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