Keep Me: A HERO Novella Read Online Free PDF Page B

hand through it as we stare at each other.
    Dr. Adams clears his throat behind me. “Can I help you?”
    “I’m here to pick her up.”
    “I see. Are you also considering making an appointment?”
    “No. And I don’t appreciate the insinuation.”
    “Not an insinuation, sir. Just a question. Cataline—I’m sorry, Cat—I’ll see you next week.”
    The door closes behind me, and I take a tentative step toward Calvin. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing.”
    I glance over my shoulder and take his arm to lead him out of the office. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”
    He shoves his hands in his pockets, an action that pairs perfectly with the suffering on his face.
    “Did you hear us?” I ask.
    “Yes.”
    “Calvin. You told me you couldn’t hear anymore.”
    “It’s considerably weakened, but if I concentrate and I’m nearby, my hearing is still sharp.”
    “How could you? That was supposed to be private.”
    He shakes his head. “He’s right. This,” he says, gesturing between us, “is wrong.”
    I catch his hand and hold it over my heart. It brands the skin under my blouse with a cold handprint. “You can’t tell me this is wrong, Calvin. Don’t you feel what I feel?”
    “You’re justifying my behavior.”
    “No, I’m not. I don’t think what you did was right. I think it was cruel. Sometimes I wonder about all the different ways you could’ve kept me safe without locking me up and treating me that way. I can never forget how those months were. But if, in some fucked up way, the Cartel was an excuse to bring me close, to find a way of owning me, it worked. I love you, and for better or worse, this is where we are. Now we can move forward and forget the past.”
    He’s silent a moment as his eyes search mine, thinking. “We can’t forget it, Cat. And I can’t erase it for you. Those memories can’t be replaced.”
    I drop his hands and take a step back. “You—you can’t leave me,” I whisper. “You can’t.”
    “I’m not,” he says, his voice soothing. He pulls me into his arms, clasping me so tightly his heart thumps against my cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
    “I’ll stop the sessions,” I say. “I don’t want to come back.”
    “No. You’ll continue with Dr. Adams because you need someone to talk to.”
    “Then I’ll talk to you.”
    “You know it doesn’t work like that.”
    How does it work? I want to ask. What are the rules when you’re in love with your enemy? To a psychologist like Dr. Adams, there’s no sense in Calvin and me. But I know we just are what we are. It can’t be explained or rationalized. I hope I never have to try.
     

I wake up to screaming—but when I open my eyes and bolt upright, there’s only quiet calm. Cataline is warm and breathing evenly next to me. If there was screaming, it didn’t pierce her slumber. The covers are too hot, so I get up and pace the tiny room, trying to silence the ringing in my ears. Bits and pieces of a dream try to puzzle themselves together. Tense and alert, I find my jeans on the floor and pull them on. Next I rummage for a sweatshirt in my small but growing shelf of things in her apartment.
    Downstairs, I sniff in the cold night, walking briskly. I roam for hours, straining to hear for anything amiss, but all I get is a mob of rowdy college students. Even they are polite, nodding and smiling as I walk by.
    It’s almost five in the morning when I return. The black sky is lightening to indigo, stars brightest before they disappear into dawn. The scuffle of shoes up ahead has me straightening my back and surveying the area. My loss of precise night vision is frustrating and puts me even more on edge. I pause in my tracks only a moment when I spot Cataline in her glowing white nightgown and slippers, treading a path in front of the building. My entire torso seems to swell as I charge toward her. “What are you doing out here?”
    “Where have you been?” she cries, shoving her palms into my chest.