Months ago, in this very room, Victoria referred to Nolan as my boyfriend, and I was quick to correct her. This time I don’t correct Helena when she says I love him.
Though I have to admit, this wasn’t quite the way I envisioned Nolan finding out. I wanted to tell him myself, not have him hear it from the woman who wants to kill me.
I stand and plant my feet firmly against the carpet, expecting her to lunge for me, ready to fight. But Helena just steps aside, clearing the path between Nolan and me.
“The boy is free to go,” she says. Ryan Michaelson’s spirit vanishes: the chill dissipates, and Nolan is unfettered.
I practically leap across the ottoman. I put my arms around him—nausea be darned!—and use one of Victoria’s pretty throw pillows to apply pressure to the gash above his right temple. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “This is all my fault.”
With effort, Nolan shakes his head. He reaches up and takes one of my hands in his. After months spent in the Mexican jungle, my skin looks so dark next to his, but somehow our hands still seem to fit together perfectly.
The warmth of being near Nolan turns into heat as I struggle to control the sensations rushing through my body. Sweat forms at the base of my neck, and without my long hair to catch it, the moisture drips down my back, in between my shoulder blades. Touching Nolan feels simultaneously so right and so wrong, but at least now I know that all those wrong feelings are just a trick manufactured by Aidan. They’re not real.
“Can you stand up?” I ask, putting my arm around his shoulder to help him. I may be shorter than he is, but I can feel my muscles working. All that strength I built up in the jungle has come home with me.
“I think so,” Nolan whispers.
“Let’s get you out of here,” I say, helping him to his feet. I just have to get him to safety. And then . . . I don’t know what happens then.
Nolan shakes his head. “I’m not leaving without you.” It’s clear from the look on his face that he knows what Helena intends to do with me.
Before I can protest, Helena’s voice makes me jump. I hadn’t forgotten that Nolan and I weren’t alone in the room, but it just didn’t feel like anyone else was part of our conversation.
“Well, then,” her hoarse voice begins, “I’m afraid we have a problem. Because I can’t let you leave with her.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Kissed
Nolan seems strong enough to stand on his own, so I turn to face my birth mother. “I won’t give up without a fight.”
“No,” Helena agrees. “I don’t imagine you will. You inherited your father’s willfulness.”
“Maybe I got it from you.” I raise an eyebrow. After a few months living with Aidan, I know I got that from him. “You seem every bit as stubborn as Aidan.”
Helena sinks onto the couch across from us with a sigh. She looks relaxed, but she warns, “Don’t try anything.” She nods slightly, and I feel a spark in the electric current of nearby spirits. Helena could pull them all close in a heartbeat. And this time they would restrain me, not Nolan.
I nod that I understand.
She brings her hand to her forehead and closes her eyes just the way Mom does when she’s battling a headache. “You can say good-bye,” she offers, gesturing at Nolan. Suddenly I feel grateful to the woman who wants to kill me, the woman who’s been hurting the boy I love. She’s going to let Nolan go.
But before I can say a word, he protests. “You’re not actually going to say good-bye to me, right? We’re going to get you out of here. Away from her,” he spits, nodding in Helena’s direction.
“No, we’re not,” I say firmly.
“You’re just giving up?” He pushes the sleeves of his jacket up over his elbows, and I see dark bruises on his forearms, reminders of the spirit who held him down.
“I didn’t say that. But we’re not getting me out of here. If I’m getting out of here alive, I’m doing it myself. I’m not letting you risk your life to save me again.”
“You risked your life to save me,” Nolan counters, every bit as logical as my father, like the math of me saving him without letting him save me back just doesn’t add up.
That’s the second time I’ve thought of Aidan as my father. As my parent. A parent who underestimated me. His protections aren’t enough to keep me from Nolan. I ignore every bad feeling, silently saying No every time my body tries to pull me away.
“I have to tell you something,” I begin, but Nolan cuts me off.
“I love you,” he says plainly, just as calmly as if he were telling me it was raining outside.
“I love you too.” It’s just as undeniable as the fact that the sky is blue (or gray, here in Ridgemont), water is wet, or owls can fly.