Burn It Up

I’m not scared. Not just now, not for herself or the baby. Just now she felt terrible and selfish and worried that something bad might happen to whoever did see James first. That someone would get threatened or hurt if they refused to tell him where she was. Was living with that guilt truly better than living with Casey finding out her secrets?

Mustering a little bravery, a little hint of the spine she so wanted to one day possess for the sake of her daughter, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to him. Once he’s made contact, like you said.” As she heard those words in her own voice, she sat up a little straighter, felt a little different, a little stronger.

“Good.” Casey gave her knuckles a rub and let her hand go. “Drink your coffee.”

She took a sip.

“It’s gonna be okay, in the end. It’s the uncertainty and the waiting that sucks, is all.”

“No kidding.”

There was a silence, and they focused on their coffees until the suspense became unbearable. She looked at him pointedly.

“What?”

“Is that it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Were you expecting something else?”

She looked to the mug cupped in her palms. “I sort of assumed you wanted to talk about what happened. Between you and me.”

“Oh.” A canyon-deep pause. “I hadn’t planned on it. We could, though, if you want.”

Jeez, did she? “I dunno.” She wanted to know how he felt about it—she knew that much. Wanted to hear that it had meant something, anything, to him, even as she was afraid to admit the same.

“I mean, we talked some already, after it happened,” Casey said. He was acting blasé, like it hadn’t mattered, but whether that was because he regretted it or because he assumed she did, Abilene couldn’t guess. What she really wanted to hear was that it had meant something. Anything at all, even if it could never go anywhere.

Abilene wasn’t brave at the best of times, and with all the worries now rushing through her head, she had no courage to speak of. “Yeah, I guess we talked plenty already,” she agreed. “I mean, it was just a thing that happened.”

But something in her expression must have shown how much she hurt just now. He reached across the table again and touched her wrist. “It was real nice, though. It was a real nice thing that happened.”

Her heart buoyed at that. She flipped her hand over, clasped his in return. “You think?”

Another nod. “Not something we can keep doing, but I don’t regret it. Not unless you do.”

She shook her head. It was weird, talking to a guy this way. Openly, about sex or anything else. She wasn’t like Kim or Raina—women with no issues sharing their opinions and feelings with a man, talking with one like they were equals. Abilene had never been the equal of any of the men she’d been with, or hadn’t felt like she was. She did what voiceless women did—she manipulated. Through sex or tears, she could coerce a guy into not being angry with her, or into lending her money, into just about anything. It wasn’t good, but she’d gotten good at it. Way better at it than speaking her mind and articulating her needs. She’d gone unheard her entire life, after all. The concept was foreign.

What would she say, if she could get her mouth to speak the absolute truth?

I do want that to happen again. And again, and again, until my body’s ready for more, and then I want to do a hundred other things with you. And to hell with his past, and all her vows to quit falling for criminals. Her life was teeming with uncertainty and worry just now, the temptation to escape into good feelings all the more seductive. To hell with everything that didn’t feel half as wonderful as that kiss had.

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