Deepen The Kiss

by Willow Winters

  I sit up, wiping at my face. She misunderstood me.

  “No, Mama. I’m trying to tell you… I’m trying to say I have to leave Hallow Falls.”

  Mama's eyes narrow on my face, but she doesn’t disagree with me. Her next words are tender.

  “Are you sure you’re running toward your dream? You’re not just running away from your fears?” she asks carefully.

  “I just… I need to get away from this town. And Hunter, and Slade…” I can’t finish that train of thought. I breathe in deep and says, “I want to be a teacher, you know? I’m not meant to be running the bakery, it just sort of fell into my lap. It was never a part of my plan.” I wipe at my blotchy face, though I’ve finally stopped crying. “I need to start over, to get a clean slate.”

  My mama looks at me for a second, her eyes welling with tears.

  “Don’t cry,” I tell her. “Or I’ll start again.”

  “Just… just follow your heart, baby,” my mama says, brushing back a strand of my hair. “That’s all you can do.”

  I take a deep breath and blow it out.

  “I’m not leaving right now,” I say, covering my mama's hand with my own. “Okay? I’ll stick around a little longer. I just know I need to get out, and I know you’re the reason I stay.”

  “Well, you don’t have to stay because of me,” she sighs. “You don’t stay here for me, you hear?”

  “Okay, Mama.”

  “You just go when you’re ready, alright? You let me and your father know where you’re going, but other than that… don’t worry about me.”

  I halfheartedly smile at her and nod, and my mama pats my shoulder. I don’t have anything more to say.

  My mama turns the sound up on whatever show she was watching, and I slide deeper into my seat. We sit like that for a long while, until she falls asleep.

  CHAPTER 20

  HUNTER

  I’ve been waiting against the side of Vi’s bakery since 5 a.m.; when the sheriff let me leave, I walked straight here. My boots and ass are in the dirt and my back’s against the cement wall. It’s cold as fuck and there’s not a goddamn thing around here to do. I would’ve fallen asleep from exhaustion if I wasn’t so fucking pissed and worried.

  I don’t have my phone or my keys. But more than that, I don’t know where Vi is. She could be anywhere. I’m hoping she's at a friend’s house.

  But all sorts of bullshit has been running through my mind for the last few hours. I wanna know where she is. And I’m coming up with all sorts of places, but I keep settling on Slade’s house. And not because she wants to be there. A few times I almost walked over to his parents' house. I don’t know where Slade’s is, but if he’d gotten his hands on her, I wouldn’t have let anyone pry me away from him again.

  I know where she is now; she’s walking my way with wide, worried eyes. I get up off the ground, brushing the dirt off my ass and feeling sore all over.

  She’s wearing the clothes she was in last night, and they’re wrinkled like she slept in them. Her eyes are red and slightly swollen and her face is tearstained. Vi.

  “You weren’t here last night.” My voice comes out harder than I intended. “Where were you?” I can’t help how the words come out. That’s the only thing on my mind.

  She stops in her tracks and takes in a shaky breath. At first I think I startled her, but that’s not it. She’s pissed.

  “It’s none of your business. I’m none of your business. You made that clear all those years ago. Just leave me alone, Hunter.” Her voice cracks on the last word. On my name.

  I’m taken aback by her anger. “I just wanted to talk to you,” I say in a soothing voice. She still hasn’t moved. She’s a mix of emotions, and I’m not sure what’s winning out, but she’s not okay.

  “I don’t need to talk to anyone. I’m done with this town, and I’m done with you, Hunter Graves.” She shakes her head and says, “You’re no good for me. There’s nothing good for me here.”

  Although her voice is even, it’s like she’s slapped me. I don’t understand what the fuck changed for her. Then it hits me. Slade.

  Whatever that fucker did, it messed her up. She’s not okay, and I’m gonna have to be gentle with her. But I can help her. I know I can.

  She just has to let me in. I fucking hope she does. She needs me.

  “What did I do, Vi?” I ask, taking a step toward her. She almost takes a step backward, but she stops herself.

  “Don’t, Hunter.” She looks up at me with pleading eyes, and I listen to her. I stop, I put my hands up in surrender.

  “I’m only here for you.” I look back at her and take a moment to collect my thoughts. “I don’t want you to run away from-”

  “It’s not running, Hunter.” She lets out a long breath, trying to calm herself. It kills me to watch her and not give into the urge to take her in my arms like she needs.

  “I think you are running,” I say and she opens her mouth to object, but I keep going, “and I get it, Vi. I understand, and I’m so damn sorry. But you don’t have to run.”

  “Let me hold you,” I ask even though it’s more of a command.

  “No,” she says, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around her. Her blouse bunches, and she looks away. She shakes her head, looking at the bushes that line this side of the building.

  I give her a minute to calm down. She wipes under her eyes and lets her shoulders hunch forward.

  “I’m here for you.” I say the words softly. I just need her to believe it. All this other shit, I don’t care about it. I don’t live for it. But I live for her. Even with all those years away in the Navy and all the shit I got in, I just kept thinking I needed to get out and get back here. I had to get back to her. I wish she knew that. I wish she’d believe me.

  She looks up at me, but she doesn’t answer. It cuts me deep that she won’t talk to me.

  “Is this about Slade?” I ask softly. Her eyes flicker to the ground and she reaches up, hugging herself again. “What’d he do to you?”

  She shakes her head, refusing to give me an inch. She looks so wounded. She’s not the woman I know. I just need to know what happened so I can fix it.

  “I’ll kill him if he ever touches you again,” I say with conviction in my voice.

  Before I can say any more, her phone rings in her purse. At first she ignores it, but the ringtone is different. It must be someone important. Her forehead scrunches as she digs for it and then answers the call.

  I can barely make out the sound of her father’s voice.

  She answers with a question in her voice, “Dad?”

  Her face pales, and she covers her mouth with her hand, shaking her head. Fuck. I walk closer to her, trying to understand what’s going on. Why she’s so upset. I’m cautious, but then she loses it, and her phone falls to the ground.

  I grab her small body in my arms before she collapses to the ground, with her shoulders trembling and tears flowing down her cheeks.

  “Vi?” I’m desperate to understand what’s wrong. I have no fucking clue. But she’s not okay, she’s hysterical.

  I hold her, not knowing what’s wrong and just trying to calm her down.

  “Vi, what’s wrong?” I pet her back and kiss her hair, waiting for her to tell me something.

  She finally grabs a hold of me, burying her head in my chest. A sob wracks her body. “Vi?” I ask her again, but she just holds me tighter. I sit on the ground, holding her in my lap. “What happened?” I ask again, rocking her back and forth.

  She sniffles and takes in a ragged breath, not pulling away from me. With her head still buried beneath my chin she manages to answer, and my heart shatters.

  “My mama… she,” she cries harder. “She died.”

  CHAPTER 21

  VIOLET

  I’m at my parents’ house, just after the funeral, standing in the backyard. My mother’s wake is still going on inside, but I need a break.

  I’m still in my funeral clothes, a black lace dres
s and black pumps. I brush back a lock of my dark hair, frowning at how windy it is today.

  That’s the weather report today: windy, cool, and grey. I look up at the sky, wondering how the sky knew that it should be grey today.

  When I was little, my mama used to say that grey days were God’s way of keeping the sun fresh. The corners of my mouth curl up as I imagine my mama saying just that to a younger version of myself.

  In my mind, my mama says it to me as I’m peering outside, looking glum. She turns me around and tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear. Then she says, Today is grey because God is keeping the sun fresh.

  It’s a nice memory, as comforting to me as the smell of cinnamon and the warmth of the fireplace.

  Then I realize that she’ll never say that to me ever again. She’ll never again say anything to me. She’s said all that she’ll ever say.

  The pain is like a knife in my heart, the memory exposing yet another nerve ending to be sliced and shredded. This is about the thousandth time I’ve gone through this exact process since she died. Remembering something small but nice, reliving it, only for the whole thing to come crashing down. Crumpling my heart and causing me nothing but pain.

  I sniffle and kick the dirt, trying to alleviate some of the emotion overwhelming me.

  Reality sucks, big time.

  I shiver and wrap my arms around myself, even though it isn’t exactly cold. It’s warmer than it has been lately. I look out into the woods behind my parents’ house, trying not to cry.

  I think I’ve cried myself out, anyway. I cried when my father told me that my mama died. I cried almost all day, every day between then and now. I cried when they put my mama in the ground.

  That’s a lot of crying, a lot of tears. I think my mama would’ve appreciated my efforts not to cry anymore, now that the funeral's over.

  My mama is dead. She’s gone. There is nothing on this earth that can bring her back. Nothing that can ease my pain.

  It’s midmorning, but I could do with some sleep. I’ve only slept a handful of hours this whole week, but now it seems like all I wanna do is sleep.

  Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever been as tired as I am right now.

  The sliding glass door opens, and I turn to look at who decided to come join me out here. It’s Hunter, looking somber in his dark suit and tie.

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in a suit. His broad shoulders fill the jacket and make him look… powerful. He looks like he owns the world wearing that suit. Or maybe just me. The sight of him, looking so polished and domineering, makes me want him. I look away at that realization. I don’t want him. I can’t.

  “Vi,” he says, his voice gone to gravel. “I came to see how you’re doing.”

  I look at him. He was at the funeral, though he stayed on the edges of the crowd.

  “Are you alright?” he asks, moving toward me.

  I stay still as he takes one of my hands in his, squeezing it gently. I shake my head, tilting it down so that my dark hair covers my face.

  He reads me immediately, just like he used to in high school.

  “Hey,” he says, touching my shoulder and then wrapping his arms around me. “It’s okay, Violet. It’s okay. You’re not going to feel this way forever. I promise.” It hurts to hear him say that. It doesn’t feel that way. I can’t imagine ever living a day without her and not feeling this pain and emptiness inside of me.

  I close my eyes and revel in the comfort of his embrace for a moment. It’s nice, feeling the simple comfort of his arms around me. It makes me yearn, makes me want more. I reach up and put my arms around his shoulders, letting him hold me. I melt into him and feel a desire for more. More than comfort. I need to feel something else. Something to take this pain away.

  I want to run my cheek along his stubble until he takes my lips with his own. I want to run my hands up his dress shirt and feel the hard muscles I know are underneath the clothes. I want his hands on me, too. Slow and gentle, leaving goosebumps along my skin, hardening my nipples. I breathe out steadily, but evenly. Lust clouding my judgment as I push myself harder into his embrace and close my eyes.

  I imagine how he used to fuck me. He’d lay me down and cage me under him. He always watched as he entered me slowly, stretching my walls and letting me accommodate his size. But he was never gentle the whole way through. Only the beginning and then he’d lower his body and kiss my neck, my jaw, my lips as he slammed himself into me over and over. Toward the end, it seemed he lost control. I know I did.

  Just for a moment, I want it more than anything. I want us both to lose control.

  But I think of his words. It’s okay. You’re not going to feel this way forever. I promise.

  And I know it’s not true.

  The whole world will go on, the sun will rise and set, and my father and I will just be here. As if we’re frozen in place by grief, this terrible and palpable thing.

  And if I don’t feel this pain forever, if the feelings overwhelming me right now lessen…

  Then it will truly be tragic, because a person’s child should feel their loss, should mourn their death for a lifetime.

  “I’m not…” I whisper into Hunter’s shoulder. I pull my head back, look up at him. “I’m not okay. Nothing is… nothing is okay.”

  I push myself off of him, force myself to move back and forget the thoughts of him taking the pain away. I’m supposed to feel this way.

  “Violet, I can’t begin to imagine what you feel right now…”

  “No, you can’t,” I snap, feeling isolated. “No one can.”

  “Just let me—” He reaches for me again, but I evade him, walking away a few paces.

  “I can’t be with you. I can’t be with anyone right now, Hunter. I’m sorry. I’m not okay. I don’t even know what okay is,” I say, the words all tumbling out at once.

  Hunter crosses his arms and looks at me.

  “Sometimes when you’re not okay, that’s the moment you really need someone. You can feel it. I feel it, Vi. I don’t want to lose you again.”

  I feel like my heart is shattering into a million pieces. I didn’t think it was possible to feel any more pain, but here it is.

  That is what I needed to hear him say, needed so badly four years ago. It’s what I lay awake at night dreaming of, that he’d come riding in and a white horse and save me. From myself, from all the gossips in our town, maybe from the world.

  But that was then. I draw a deep breath and exhale, my shoulders bunching.

  I look Hunter dead in the eye, so there’s no way he can misinterpret what I have to say.

  “You never lost me, Hunter. You threw me away. There’s a difference,” I say, sober as a judge.

  “Vi, wait,” he says as I turn and start toward my apartment.

  I throw one last look over my shoulder. “Goodbye, Hunter.”

  With that, I head toward my apartment, my bed.

  CHAPTER 22

  HUNTER

  I haven’t spoken to Violet in over a week. Not my choice. I’ve left her half a dozen messages. But she’s not answering, I don’t know if she’s even seeing them. The bakery’s been closed, and she’s not answering her door either. I just need to know she’s alright. She needs someone, and I hope she knows I’m here when she realizes that.

  I lay back on the sofa as my phone pings.

  I’m sure it’s Jared, he’s been trying to get me out of the house for the past few days, but I’m not ready to talk to anyone about this shit. I don’t want a beer, I don’t want to get lost in work. Not on the house I’m supposed to be fixing up, the garage I bought, not on a piece of junk car. I just… I don’t know what I want.

  Other than Violet.

  But I can’t have her. She won’t take me back, and she won’t let me help her. What choice do I have?

  “Son,” I hear my pops' gruff voice from over my shoulder and I turn to him. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. We haven’t really talked since our argument.


  “Yeah?” I ask him, looking straight ahead at the TV even though it’s turned off.

  “I know we haven’t spoken much, but I thought I needed to tell you how proud I was of you.”

  I’m surprised by my father’s words. I look over to him as he slowly takes a seat on the arm of the recliner across from me. “I mean it.”

  I stare into his eyes, not knowing what to say. I don’t remember if my father’s ever told me that before. I can’t remember a time when he has. “Thank you.” I don’t know what else to say.

  “You’re a good man. It must be the way your mama raised you, 'cause God knows I have my own problems, but she raised you right. And I’m proud of the man you are.” He nods his head, and I feel something shift between the two of us.

  “I just wanted to make sure you knew. I love you, and I’m proud of you son.”

  “I love you too, Pops.”

  He breathes out heavily and stands up abruptly, reaching for his coat slung over the back of the recliner. I feel off-centered, that’s not like my father. He’s a hard man and he always has been. I can admit it’s nice to hear though.

  “Where are you headed?” I ask him.

  “To the Shaw’s. Bud left his glasses at the bar last night, I thought I’d stop by and give them to him. See how he’s doing.”

  I nod my head and take in a slow breath. Bud is Violet’s father. Before I can ask him anything or offer to go with him, I hear Haley’s soft steps as she climbs down the stairs. She’s careful moving around me. Everyone is.

  I watch her hold onto the banister as Pops walks by and out the front door. I think about calling out to him, but I can tell Haley wants to talk by the way she’s looking at me, so I don’t. She’s been distant since our fight, and I can’t blame her.