Wicked by Addison Moore

the ring Gage gave me hanging from a thin thread of silver around my neck. I had it once, the protective hedge, and I was foolish enough to give it back. I’m sure all that babbling in her diary about a game of buried treasure had to do with just that. Chloe spent the last several weeks of her life securing her future, so that I couldn’t kill her a second time.

    Gage slips his hand into the hem of my robe just above my stomach.

    “So what does she want from you?” This time it’s me catching his wrist like a thief as I gently pluck him away from the warmth of my skin.

    “To talk.” He pulls me in, resting his head on my shoulder. “She’s convinced the more time I spend with her, I’ll actually want to be with her.”

    “Be with her,” I mouth the words. Chloe was trying to land a kiss from Gage long before she knew she was terminal. I’m sure she wants something more than having him in her close proximity, like being with her in the literal sense. “So you think this will end soon?”

    “It’s never going to end with her. I just need to tactfully remove myself from the situation before she does something irrational.”

    “Does that irrational behavior involve me?” I already know the answer. Gage would die before he let one bad thing happen to me.

    He pulls back, a direct stream of moonlight pours over his features. There’s such a magnified splendor about Gage. Every piece of marble should ache to be carved into his likeness.

    “It involves you.” He gives a nod. “I’d let her set me on fire before I let her hurt you.”

    I nod into his words.

    Chloe will never relent from her blackmail—I already know this. And Gage will never stop trying to protect me. He will end our relationship if he has to, I can already feel it. It’s funny how this mirrors what happened to Logan and me, only I’d have to kill an entire faction of people to ever be with Logan—back when I wanted him—when I thought I knew who he was and what he stood for. But for Gage, only one person has to die, and it just so happens she can’t.

    ***

    Gage goes home at the crack of dawn, no thanks to my mother, who made it a point to bang on my door and offer to teach me how to look down the business end of a turkey—to which I unremorsefully declined.

    It’s a little after two in the afternoon, and I fully expect the Olivers any minute. I think Brielle and her mother are already downstairs because I can hear Mom exuding an unnatural level of glee that she reserves only for company. I shut my door and push the dresser over an inch.

    “Holden?” I say his name a shade above a whisper. “Hello? Earth to Holden?”

    Since we are having another sit down dinner, and he does seem to prefer an audience to embarrass me in front of, I thought I’d have a little tête-à-tête with my least favorite disembodied spirit. “Are you there?”

    The dresser mirror splinters in a perfect spider web pattern.

    I give a quick blink.

    This is the exact kind of shit I’m trying to avoid.

    “Look, I know you want a body. But destroying my life and embarrassing me isn’t going to bring it to you any faster.” Well really, nothing will, but that’s beside the point. “It’s Thanksgiving. That means there will be a ton of guests over, and I want to have a civil meal without the fear of my hand lobbing table scraps at people.” Except maybe for Tad, but that’s because he’s an asshole and deserves to have table scraps lobbed at him, hey… “So, I’ve decided,” rather spontaneously, “that if you want to earn your keep, you need to stay in line. That’s not to say you can’t be bad. I know you’re a bad boy and some things never change, so I expressly give you permission to do whatever you like to my stepfather, Tad. In fact, I encourage you to unleash whatever the hell you feel like unleashing, just make sure there are no other casualties, and I play no part in it.” I’d sic him on Chloe, but it’s a mute point.