Unraveling You Series: The Complete Set

by Jessica Sorensen

  “Yeah, I know.” She sighs, turning down the temperature of the burner. “I guess it’s okay. Just make sure you make it home by midnight.” She picks up a spoon and stirs whatever’s in the pot. “Oh, and please keep Lyric’s bedroom door open at all times.”

  “I will,” I tell her, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

  Ever since the Gregorys and the Scotts found out about mine and Lyric’s relationship, they’ve been very adamant about an open-door policy. I’m okay with it, though, just as long as I get to see Lyric.

  On my way out of the house, I pass by the living room. Fiona, Kale, and Everson are sitting on the couch, watching some sort of zombie movie on the flat screen.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Fiona calls out when she spots me hurrying for the front door. At thirteen years old, she has a lot of spunk. In a way, she reminds me of Sadie, back before we were taken. Always playing around, always so excited about everything, and a bit over-dramatic at times. “Oh wait. I bet I know. You’re going to see Lyric.” She flutters her eyelashes, drapes her hand over her head, and flops back on the cushions. “Oh Lyric, I love you so much. I can’t stand being away from you for more than ten seconds.”

  I shake my head, my lips quirking. “Lyric and I haven’t seen each other all day.”

  “That might be a record,” she says, sitting up on the couch. “Seriously, you guys have issues. When I start dating, I’m going to have a rule that we can only spend like two hours a week together.”

  Kale, who’s almost sixteen, chokes on a laugh. “Yeah, I bet that’ll never happen. With how dramatic you are, you’ll end up being one of those girls who wants to spend every two seconds with her boyfriend.”

  “Hey, don’t be rude just because you and Zoe broke up.” She slumps back. “It’s not my fault you got too clingy.”

  “I wasn’t too clingy,” Kale grumbles, pushing to his feet. “I just liked spending time with her.” He squeezes by me and stomps up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door.

  “Teenagers are so hormonal,” Fiona says with an eye roll.

  “You should cut him some slack,” I say. “He’s still really upset about the break up.”

  “He needs to get over it,” Fiona replies. “He didn’t even like Zoe that much.”

  “He might have.” I lean against the doorway. “It seemed like he did to me.”

  “Yeah, well, he didn’t,” she says. “Trust me.”

  “Did you actually hear him say that?” I ask.

  “Nope. I just know this stuff.” She focuses on the television.

  Fiona says these kinds of things frequently—that she just knows things she couldn’t possibly just know. I once heard her tell her friend she believes she’s a psychic, and while I’m not sure I believe in that kind of stuff, I can’t help but wonder sometimes.

  “Hey, you still coming to my game tomorrow?” Everson asks as I turn for the foyer.

  He’s fourteen years old and has been obsessed with football for as long as I can remember. His games are important to him and even though sports really aren’t my thing, I want to go to his game, get out of the house, get some fresh air.

  “I think I should be able to make it.” I pat my pockets as I back toward the foyer again, making sure I have my phone on me, because I know Lila will text me a few times to make sure I’m okay.

  “Cool.” He stuffs a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “It might be the last one you ever get to see for a long time.”

  I pause. “How do you figure?”

  He nonchalantly shrugs. “Because you’re graduating and going on that band tour.”

  “I’m not going on the tour.” Just thinking about my band, Alyric Bliss, going on the Rocking Summer Blast Tour makes my mood plummet. But I can’t go with them. Not when the Soulless Mileas want me. Not when Sadie is out there waiting for me to save her.

  “Yeah, right. You’ll change your mind,” Everson says. “I know you’re going through some stuff and those crazy people are after you, but you like music almost as much as you like Lyric. And since she’s going on this tour, you’ll end up going.”

  I want to argue with him. Tell him he doesn’t get it. That there’s more to it than just some crazy people being after me. But a small part of me still hangs onto the hope that maybe over the next month my life will change, and somehow, I’ll get to go on the tour. Lyric even insisted I go with the band to record next week. She said whether they replace me or not, I’ve earned the right to be on the album. My initial instinct was to argue, but I really want to be a part of this with them, so I agreed.

  “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” I tell Everson then walk out the front door.

  I make my way down the path to the driveway, the night summer air instantly making me sweat. As I’m rounding the fence to head next door, I spot a police car parked not too far down the road. The car is always there, watching my house, and when I go to school, therapy, or band practice, it tails me. I never get any time alone anymore, and I long for the days when I can walk down the sidewalk without being watched and without worrying that someone is going to grab me.

  Live for the days when I can just live.

  When I reach the side door of the Scotts’ two-story home, I hear music blaring from upstairs, probably from Lyric’s room. I rap on the door several times before I give up and just walk in. I don’t cross paths with Mr. or Mrs. Scott as I make my way upstairs and to Lyric’s room, something I’m thankful for, considering Mr. Scott seems uncomfortable every time I’m near his daughter. Lyric says it’s because he’s worried we’re having sex. I want to tell everyone that they have nothing to worry about, that because of my fucked up past, I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to have sex. I used to think I’d never get to a point in my life where I could even think about having sex. But when I met Lyric, some of that fear was overpowered by want.

  Want, want, want

  All the time.

  I want her so badly

  I’m losing my mind.

  With all the desire

  And heat

  Pulsating through me.

  I feel like I’m stuck

  Out on a wire.

  Wanting to stay on

  Yet wanting to fall.

  Fall, fall, fall

  Right into her.

  God, please let me fall.

  I can’t help but smile as I reach Lyric’s bedroom. Her door is open, “Holocene” by Bon Iver is playing from the stereo, and she’s sitting on her bed strumming her guitar and singing along with the song. Her long blonde hair flows over her bare shoulders, and she’s wearing a pair of red shorts, a black tank top, and the leather bracelets we gave each other last Christmas. She’s so beautiful that I have to catch my breath.

  Instead of walking in, I linger in the doorway and watch her play, getting lost in her singing. Lyric has an incredibly beautiful voice that gives our band an edge. I could probably listen to her sing all day long, if she’d let me. While she’s okay with her stage fright, she gets nervous when people watch her sing, including me. She conquers the fright, though, every time she steps up on stage, which makes her that much more amazing.

  As the song ends, she scrunches up her nose, clearly frustrated. She must be trying to work out something with the tune because the song turns right back on. She lines her finger to the guitar strings and her lips part, but she freezes when she notices me.

  A smile spreads across her face, and her green eyes light up. “Hey, I was just thinking about you.”

  I don’t know how she can look so happy to see me. She tells me all the time it’s because I make her happy. That has to be a lie. Lyric is just an upbeat person. She smiles about ninety percent of the time, laughs the other nine percent of the time, and that one percent is for the rare occurrences when she’s sad.

  “Weird. I was just thinking about you too before I came over,” I say with a small smile.

  “That’s because we can clearly read each other’s minds.” She sets down the guita
r and stands to her feet, stretching out her arms and legs.

  “If that’s the case, then what am I thinking right now?” I ask as my eyes wander up and down her body.

  “Hmmm . . .” She taps her finger against her lips with a sparkle in her eyes. “That you so want to kiss me right now.”

  My lips quirk in amusement. “How’d you guess?”

  “Because it’s always what you’re thinking about,” she teases as she crosses the room toward me. “Morning, noon, and night, you can’t get my kisses out of your head. Because they’re that awesome.”

  “And apparently mind controlling,” I joke, already feeling better.

  “Well duh. Awesome kisses have to have the awesome power of mind control; otherwise, what’d make them awesome?” She grins, placing her hands on my shoulders.

  “Maybe your kisses are just awesome because you’re you,” I suggest, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

  Her attitude shifts from playfully joking to intensely wanting. I know what she wants, so I dip my lips and give it to her. I kiss her softly at first, but the longer our tongues tangle the more I begin to tip sideways on that wire. I just want to let go. Tumble off and never get back on.

  I back her up, kissing her passionately until our legs bump the side of the bed. We fall onto the mattress and she giggles against my lips. The sound makes me smile, but the light mood immediately heats up again as my hands travel up and down her sides, across her breasts and her waist. I kiss her with every ounce of emotion I have in me, but my body trembles as she parts her legs and grinds her hips against me. I fight the urge to stop, refuse to let the past control me.

  I won’t go there anymore.

  Back into the dark

  Where I’m lost and all alone.

  I won’t let them control me anymore.

  “My parents aren’t home,” she whispers against my mouth as I slip my hand under her shirt.

  I nod, even though she wasn’t really asking me a question. Not straightforwardly anyway. I know her well enough to understand what she wants without her flat out asking for it.

  I push back, grab the bottom of her shirt, and fumble to pull it over her head. Once it’s off, I toss it onto the floor.

  She stares up at me with her intensely green eyes as her fingers wander to the hem of my T-shirt. “Can I?” Her voice is soft as she carries my gaze.

  I swallow hard then nod, wishing she didn’t have to ask. Wishing I was strong enough to just get over my issues so I could be the kind of laidback, carefree guy she deserves. But it’ll take time before I’ll ever be able to jump off that wire without the inner fight rising inside me. I’m starting to believe that one day I’ll get there, though, which is more than I could say a few months ago.

  She sits up and I lean back so she can pull my shirt over my head. Then she tosses it onto the floor and splays her fingers across the tattoo on my side. She traces the lines of the feathers that form a phoenix, then her hands skate downward toward the top of my jeans. I shiver out of fear, out of want, my mind racing so quickly I barely register when she asks if this is okay. I dazedly nod and she skims her fingers back and forth across my lower abdomen, just below my waistband before she tugs on my belt loop, pulling me against her as she collapses onto the bed.

  I stick my hands out to brace the fall, but she yanks on my jeans again until I lower my lips to hers. I kiss her slowly, taking my time, memorizing every inch of her mouth as my hands explore her body. The longer the kiss goes on, the more complicated it becomes to breathe, but in the best fucking way possible.

  I don’t care if I die.

  If I ever breathe again.

  Just let this kiss go on forever.

  Let it carry me away

  To someplace better.

  Where it’s just Lyric and I

  No past, only the future.

  Let me be with her.

  Let me get through this.

  Let me get to a forever.

  I move back to remove her bra, then I crash my mouth to hers again as our chests collide. A shudder ripples through my body from the skin-to-skin contact. Fear resides inside me, underneath a sea of want, stirring.

  Don’t forget.

  Don’t forget.

  Don’t forget.

  What was done to you.

  Don’t forget that we own you.

  Don’t forget.

  Don’t forget.

  Don’t forget.

  I won’t let it consume me. Won’t let the past ruin this moment.

  No more. I’m stronger than this—than they are.

  Shoving the memory out of my mind, I focus on her lips, how incredibly soft they feel against my mouth, how her warmth engulfs me, and the pleading whimpers she makes as my hand wanders to the top of her shorts. My fingers linger there for a while as I fumble with the button. Once I get it undone, Lyric shimmies out of her shorts and kicks them onto the floor.

  I take in her long legs, smooth skin, and beautiful green eyes. “I don’t . . .” My fingers shake as I sketch a line up the inside of her thigh. “Are you sure you want me to touch you like—”

  She pushes up and slams her lips against mine, answering my question. As we lie back down on the bed, my finger slips inside her, and I instantly become lost in everything that’s Lyric. The way she lets me touch her. The way I’m the only one who gets to see her like this. The way she trusts me. How fucking gorgeous she is. How amazing her smile is. How amazing she is.

  “Ayden.” She moans my name as her eyes shut and she clutches onto my shoulders.

  Good God, I’m about to lose it. Seriously. Somehow between the fear and uncertainty, desire has completely taken over. I don’t even care that she’s touching my shoulders, my chest, my stomach. All I can think about is getting to see her like this.

  Once she comes apart, I brush her hair out of her eyes, place a tender kiss her lips, then roll on my side, letting my mind slow down.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, rolling over and facing me.

  I bob my head up and down. “I’m fine.” When she still looks concerned, I take her hand and place it on my chest. My heart thrashes as my adrenaline soars. “I promise I’m okay.” I swallow hard. “I love you and I trust you.” To prove it to her, I move her hand down my chest, across my stomach, all over my scarred skin. It’s tortuously confusing because I fear being touched yet at the same time, I want her to touch me more.

  Want. Fear. Want. Fear.

  So closely tied together.

  How can I untie them?

  And make them come apart.

  “I love you too,” she says.

  Sometimes it feels so unreal when I’m with her, like I’m dreaming. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m really still stuck in that house and this is all just a dream, my mind’s way of coping with what happened to me. If that’s the case, then let me die in the dream, never wake up.

  “No matter what you think, no matter how much you say you’re not good enough for me, no matter what, I love you, Ayden,” she says, as if she senses where my thoughts are heading.

  Even though my body is quivering from her hands’ exploration, my lips manage to turn upward. “That kind of sounds like the start of a song.”

  She leans over me, her hair veiling around my face. “What can I say? I guess you just inspire me.”

  “You inspire me too.”

  “We so sound like a cheesy love song right now.” She grins as she sings, “You inspire me. I inspire you. Let’s get together and run through a magical field of rainbows and butterflies.”

  I snort a laugh. “Don’t pretend like you don’t actually want to run through a magical field of rainbows and butterflies. I know how much you love them both.”

  “Okay, you might be right. But let’s never, ever include rainbows and butterflies in our songs.”

  “Our songs?” I ask with a cock of my brow. “As in plural? Because we’ve only written one so far.”

  “You and I have a lot of songwriting in our future
.” As if she senses me tensing, she adds, “Ayden, I know you say you’re not going on this tour, but I’m still holding onto the hope that you will.” My lips part in protest, but she talks over me. “And even if you don’t make it, I’ll still be back in a few months, and we’re going to pick up right where we left off. Nothing’s going to change between us.”

  Reality seeps in and my body trembles even more.

  Misreading my fear, she starts to withdraw her fingers, but I place my hand over hers, securing her palm against my chest.

  “It’s not that,” I say in an uneven voice. “It just scares me . . . Thinking about being away from you for three months.”

  “It scares me too,” she admits, giving in easily as I wrap an arm around her and pull her closer so our bodies are aligned perfectly.

  Surprisingly, I stop shaking and a warm calm settles inside me. I give myself a moment to breathe in the inner peace, to let it really sink through me, because I don’t get to experience calm very often.

  “I know you think I’m being naively silly,” Lyric whispers. “But I’m still hoping we won’t have to be apart. That you’ll go in on Monday and do this experimental therapy treatment, and the police will be able to find your sister.”

  I know that it’s not going to be easy. That it may take several tries for the treatment to work. That if it does work, it might be like opening Pandora’s Box, and my mind will be so fucked up that I’ll be back to where I started before I came to the Gregorys’. There’s also the possibility something could go wrong. That I could end up in shock, with more memory loss, or even heart failure. The risks are why Lila won’t let me go, and why Lyric looks like she’s going to throw up every time the treatment is mentioned.

  “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” I tell her when I note the paleness of her skin.

  “You don’t know that for sure.” She buries her face into my chest. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me.” I smooth my hand over the back of her head, wanting to promise her I’ll be okay no matter what happens.

  But I can’t bring myself to lie to her.