If I Die (22 page)

What’s important is salvaging what time we have left together.”

Crap. I’d never felt more guilty in my life, and it was worse knowing that he wasn’t mad at me when he had every right to be, and if I weren’t about to die, we both knew he would be.

“Nash, I really appreciate that—” Lame. “—and I know you’re just trying to make sure that my last day on earth doesn’t suck.” True. “But we can’t get back together just because I’m going to die tomorrow. That’s not a real reason.”

“We shouldn’t have broken up in the first place,” he insisted, and I realized he was only hearing what he wanted to hear. Competing vines of unease and guilt wound slowly up my spine, tightening as he continued.

“When I messed up, you forgave me. Now I’m forgiving you. You were scared and confused—who wouldn’t be in your position—and he was there, like he’s always there.” Nash shrugged. “I’m still gonna kick his ass the next time he has the bal s to face me, but today’s about us. You and me. So let’s get out of here and have some fun. This may be our last chance.”

He reached for my hand, but I pulled away before he could touch me, and an irritated twist of green shot through his irises, piercing stubborn composure to reveal something stronger and darker than mere determination.

Uh-oh.

“Nash, I need you to understand something,” I said. “Tod was the catalyst for our breakup, but he wasn’t the reason. He’s not the source of our problems. Nothing’s been the same between us since the winter carnival.”

Since the thing we didn’t talk about. It was always there between us, making him too cautious and putting me on edge. “You know that.”

“That’s not true.” He shook his head firmly, stubbornly. “We moved on.

We were fine. It was working.”

“No it wasn’t. Not like it used to.” I was always afraid he’d slip up, and it would happen again—even Sabine had told him that. Hell, he had trouble trusting himself half the time. “I’ve tried to put it behind me. I tried so hard, and I didn’t realize it wasn’t real y working until I felt something that did work.”

“What are you saying?” He looked like I’d just smacked him in the head with a two-by-four—like he didn’t know whether to cry or strike back.

Why was there no greeting card for letting a guy down easy the day before you’re scheduled to tumble into the dark hereafter? “I’m sorry for what I did. I’m sorry for how this happened. And I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t see the problem sooner. I didn’t want to see it, because I wanted us to work.” My vision blurred with tears and I had to swallow the lump forming in my throat. I didn’t want to say what needed to be said, but it wasn’t fair to either of us to leave this hanging. “But we don’t work. Not as a couple. Not anymore.”

Nash shook his head, frowning, more frustrated than surprised now.

“Yes we do.”

“Nash, you need someone with more than I have to give you. More than I’d have, even if I were going to live.” Someone who didn’t have to talk herself into trusting him. “You need someone who understands the way you think and sees into your soul.”

“That’s you.”

“No, it’s not. I don’t understand what’s going on in there most of the time.” I glanced at his chest, where his heart beat beneath his shirt, then back up to his face. “I don’t know what you want from life. I don’t know where you want to go to college. I don’t know where your father’s buried. I don’t even know how you feel about losing Scott and Doug. You don’t tell me any of that.”

“Because I don’t want to scare you!”

“That’s my point. You need someone you aren’t worried about scaring.”

“He’s not getting it,” Sabine said, and I whirled around to find her walking toward us, from the direction of the quad, her sneakers silent on the spring grass. How long had she been there? “Maybe because you’re leaving out one important detail.” She stepped onto the sidewalk and aimed an angry, challenging look my way. “Why don’t you tell him what this is really about?”

“Go away, Sabine.” My pulse spiked, and I realized with one glance at her that she knew what he didn’t want to hear and I didn’t want to tell him—

that Tod and I weren’t a once-kiss mistake. That we’d gotten together for real after Nash and I broke up—either because she’d read my fears, or she was just plain perceptive. Or both. “This is none of your business.”

“What is this really about?” Nash glanced from her to me with dread twisting tight coils of brown and green around his pupils.

“She’s talking about Tod, but this isn’t about him. He’s not what went wrong between us.”

“What about Tod?” Nash demanded through clenched teeth.

I exhaled slowly. “He and I…kind of…got together last night.”

Nash’s irises went still, and the only interpretation I had for that was that he didn’t know what to feel. Then the colors in his eyes burst into furious motion—a true storm of color. “What the hell does that mean? You slept with my brother?”

“No! You know, there are entire moments in some people’s lives that aren’t about sex!”

“You were the one pushing the issue this week, Kaylee,” he snapped, jaw tight, forehead deeply furrowed.

“I know. And that was a mistake.”

Too late, I realized what I’d said, and how he would misinterpret it. “Sex with me would have been a mistake?” He bristled with anger, but the wound went deeper than that, and we al three knew it. “Why? Because you’re so pure and spotless, and I might have tarnished your shine?”

“That’s not what I—”

“That is what you meant.” He was getting louder, and I was afraid someone would hear him, but there were no windows on this side of the building, and the doors stayed closed. “You’re purity personified, and I’m one big moral question mark. So I guess you’re really doing me a favor. Maybe I won’t look so bad when you’re not standing next to me,” Nash snapped, and my face stung, like he’d slapped me. Tears formed in my eyes, but I blinked them away, clinging to anger as I faced the death of any hope I’d had for us parting on good terms.

“What is wrong with you?” He’d never spoken to me like that before. He wouldn’t.

“I caught my girlfriend making out with my brother in front of half the school!” He was shouting now, his hands curled into fists at his sides. “I think that entitles me to a little anger.”

“Yeah, it does.” I wasn’t going to deny that. And I’d been pissed when I’d caught him kissing Sabine, even though he hadn’t initiated that. “But I don’t know what else you want me to say. I’ve never been sorrier about anything in my life. Tod feels so bad he’s prepared to spend the rest of your life trying to make it up to you.”

“But he wasn’t sorry enough to keep his hands to himself last night, was he?” His eyes shined with angry tears, even as his irises churned with pain.

“You let him touch you?”

“Oh, hell…” Sabine mumbled. “Don’t answer that.”

I glanced at her in surprise, and she seemed to be trying to tell me something without actually saying it. Some kind of warning. But by then I could hardly see through my own anger.

“That’s none of your business,” I said softly. Yet I could feel myself flush.

Nash blinked, openly wounded for a second before fresh fury rolled over him, straightening his spine, squaring his shoulders.

“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth, and the bright green coil of malice twisting in his eyes seemed to suck the air straight from my lungs. “I guess I should have seen this coming. I mean, you two have so much in common, like death, and lies, and spying on people you claim to care about.

He’s the cold corpse to your frigid bitch.”

His words stung so sharp and deep that at first I couldn’t breathe. Even Sabine looked surprised by the venom in his tone, and in the second it took me to recover, I realized something was truly wrong. Nash wouldn’t talk to me like that, no matter how mad I made him, or how badly I hurt him. He wasn’t that kind of guy.

“Give me your hand.” I reached out for it when he refused, and when he tried to step back, I lunged forward and caught his fingers.

They were ice-cold.

No. “Damn it, Nash.” I turned to Sabine without letting go of him. “He’s using again.” And it was all my fault. Again.

Chapter Eighteen

“What do you care?” Nash pulled his freezing fingers from my grasp and leaned against the brick wall. “You’d rather be with the living dead than with me, so why don’t you two just go haunt someone and leave me alone.”

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t decide whether to yell at him or wrap one arm around him and take him somewhere safe until he came down from his bitter high. I didn’t know whether to hate him for giving in again, or hate myself for driving him to it.

Final y I whirled on Sabine with a furious insight. “Did you know about this?”

She shrugged, but looked distinctly unhappy. “Harmony caught us with a bottle of Jack last night and kicked me out. I left to feed, then went back after she left for work, and he was like this, but I couldn’t find his balloon. He finally fell asleep early this morning, so I left him for half an hour to grab a change of clothes, and he was high again when I got back. But he insisted on coming to school to talk to you.”

“Shut up, Sabine,” Nash snapped, but she ignored him.

“Why didn’t you tel me?” I demanded.

“Why should I? He’s not your problem anymore.”

I gaped at her in disbelief. “Breaking up with him doesn’t mean I don’t care about him!” Nash and I had been through too much together for that to ever be possible. Our parents were close. His mom was the only mother figure I had. He was the only other bean sidhe my age I’d ever met. And my feelings for his brother would have kept me and Nash in each other’s lives, even if none of the rest of that were true. At least, they would if I were scheduled to live past Thursday. “And it definitely doesn’t mean I want to watch him die!”

Sabine rolled her eyes. “He’s not going to die. I’ll take him home with me until he comes down, then I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. That’s the difference between you and me—I’m not going to run from his problems.”

That wasn’t fair. But it was true.

“Both of you shut up!” Nash brushed past us and stomped into the parking lot. “I’m nobody’s problem but my own.”

I rushed after him with Sabine on my heels, and we caught up with him just past the first row of cars. “Nash, go home with Sabine. She’ll make sure you don’t kill yourself.”

“Why bother? I have to be dead to get your attention, right?” He took a left in the first aisle, and I had to jog to catch up. “What are you, some kind of necrophiliac? ’Cause that’s really sick.”

“Damn it, Nash.” As Sabine caught up with us, I grabbed his arm and spun him around to face me before he could take another step, trying to ignore the cold that seeped through his sleeve and into my fingers. “I don’t expect you to understand about me and Tod, and I’m so sorry that we hurt you. I can’t justify what I did and I can’t explain what I feel for him, and I honestly don’t know where it would go, if I were going to be here past tomorrow. All I know is how good I feel when I’m with him, and how I want to be with him when he’s gone, and how, when he looks at me, I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I’m falling, but I can’t remember jumping, and I don’t think I’ll ever hit the ground.”

Nash jerked his arm from my grip. “I do understand—that’s how I feel about you. But that doesn’t matter, does it? It wouldn’t matter even if tomorrow never comes and you get to live forever.”

“Nash, tomorrow will come, and I will die. And you can’t deal with that like you’re dealing with this. No more frost. Promise me.”

“You can’t make out with my brother, then ask for promises from me.

Not that any of that matters now, considering we’re both going to lose you in a matter of hours,” Nash said. “But you’re an idiot if you can’t see what Tod’s really doing. He’s clinging to you for the same reason he hangs around me and Mom—he thinks if he has something to keep him anchored in the human world, he won’t lose his humanity. That’s all you are to him, Kaylee. You’re just another anchor helping him cling to what he can’t let go of.”

“That’s not true.” Unshed tears burned in my eyes and behind my nose, and I refused to let them fal . “Why would he bother? What kind of anchor am I going to be for him when I’m dead?”

Nash huffed in disgust. “Sabine was right—you only see what you want to see. It’s easier for you to cast him as the hero and me as the villain, ’cause then you can justify running away when I needed you. I needed you, Kaylee, and you weren’t there. And now look what’s happened.” He spread his arms to indicate his own frost high, and guilt and anger buzzed inside me like a swarm of wasps in my chest.

“I never cast you as the villain, Nash. You’re doing that to yourself.” My openhanded gesture took in his entire body, currently full of Netherworld poison, and Sabine bristled.

“You know this is at least partly your fault,” she snapped.

“I know.” It bruised something deep inside me to see him on frost again, and it hurt even worse to know I’d driven him to relapse. Frost—Demon’s Breath—was more dangerous to humans than to bean sidhes, but Nash couldn’t dodge permanent damage forever. While he was high, the drug would magnify his emotions—in this case, heartbreak and anger. It would also amplify any aggression—true even in the most even-tempered users—and compromise his judgment. But the long-term effects—insanity and potentially death—were much scarier.

I couldn’t just leave him like that, knowing it might be the last time I ever saw him. “What can I do? You want me to call your mom?” Harmony knew how to help him through this. She’d done it before.

“No.” Something dark and determined stirred in his irises, and an uneasy pressure settled into my chest. “Can you just…give me a ride home?”

he said, and Sabine stiffened on my left.

“I’ll take you home!” she insisted, but he shook his head.

“I need to talk to Kaylee. Spend the day with me,” he said, holding my gaze with one so intent I couldn’t look away. “Keep me company.”

My heart tripped unevenly and I glanced at Sabine to find her jaw clenched, her eyes dark with something stronger than fear, more dangerous than anger.

“Both of us?” I wouldn’t go without her. I couldn’t do that to either of us.

Nash shook his head. “Just you and me. One last time.” When I hesitated, he sighed. “Please, Kaylee. I just want to talk.”

“She doesn’t want you!” Sabine shouted, and we both turned to her in surprise. “Not like that. She can’t trust you, but she was scared to admit it and you were scared to face it. But now it’s out, and you both need to just move on.”

“Sabine, let it go,” Nash said, and I could feel the seductive warmth of his Influence, which sent chills skittering up and down my spine, even though it wasn’t directed at me. “I just want more time,” he said, and though he was looking at her, Influencing her, he was really talking to me. “A chance to say goodbye.”

“Stop it!” Sabine spat, visibly shaking free of his words, sunlight glinting off the ring in her upper ear. He couldn’t control her unless she wanted to be controlled. For her, his Influence was a game, and today she wasn’t playing.

Nash reached for me, and when I stepped back, I bumped into the side of a dusty blue sedan. “Just come talk to me. We don’t have to go to my house.

We can go to the lake and feed the geese.”

My pulse spiked with a bolt of old fear. I couldn’t be alone with him while he was using. He would never intentionally hurt me, but he wasn’t himself when he was on frost, and things had gotten out of control before.

“Nash, I can’t,” I said, drowning in my own guilt. “Go home with Sabine.

Let her take care of you. I promise I’ll check on you later.” With Tod, whether he was visible or not. “I’m sorry.” I edged around the blue car and had taken several steps toward my own when Nash shouted behind me.

“You owe me!”

I flinched, but I didn’t stop. Yes, Tod and I had made a mistake, and yes, we felt horrible about it, but I’d done my best to explain and I’d apologized from the bottom of my soul more times than I could remember. But Nash was asking for something I couldn’t do.

When I didn’t answer, he shouted again. “Come back!”

Confliction burned in my chest for a single instant before his Influence rolled over me in a white-hot wave of compulsion, and suddenly I wanted to turn and walk back to him.

Panic tightened my throat, threatening to choke me. I fought him in my head, but my feet turned and carried me back to him, even as angry tears formed in my eyes. This isn’t happening. He’d sworn he’d never Influence me again!

“Nash…” Sabine said, but he ignored her, staring straight into my eyes.

“Give me your keys,” he said, and my hand slid into my pocket slowly, as the first tears fell.

Fighthimfighthimfighthim…!

But I couldn’t fight, because I wanted to give him my keys.

“Come with me.” He took the keys, then wound his freezing fingers around mine, and I wanted to follow him toward my car, even though I knew that if he’d just stop talking, I wouldn’t want anything but to run far enough away that I couldn’t hear him.

“Stop,” I said, using all the willpower I had left to halt my steps and voice my objection. “You promised you wouldn’t do this.”

“You’re not leaving me much of a choice. I just want to talk.” And every word he spoke washed away a little more of my objection, blurring my thoughts until they were hazy at best.

“Where are we going?” I asked, as my pulse swooshed sluggishly and my feet carried me farther and farther from the school building.

“Somewhere private,” he said with another warm pulse of Influence, and suddenly I wanted to be alone with him—al except for the thin voice of protest in my head whispering that this was a very bad idea. But the rest of me knew better. The rest of me knew that Nash could take care of me and make me happy. And all I had to do was let him.

Sabine grabbed his arm. “Nash, let her go!” She looked scared for only the second time since I’d met her, and I knew I should understand her fear, but it was just out of my grasp. “This is insane. You can’t make her want you. You can’t talk her into loving you.” Sabine flinched, like each word she said actually hurt, and I felt bad for her. She needed someone to make her happy, like Nash made me happy.

“My memories of her are empty, Sabine. The images are there, but I can’t feel anything when I think about them. I can’t feel what Kaylee and I used to be like together. I know that’s my fault, and I’l never forgive myself for giving that part of her up. But I need today with her. I need new memories of her—good ones—or after she’s gone, I will truly have lost her. All of her.”

He jerked free from her grasp and we were walking again. “I need you to understand that, and give us this one day.” He stopped next to my car and pulled open the passenger’s-side door, but Sabine stepped in front of him, blocking the car, her face a raw display of determination, her eyes dark with bitter pain.

“You’re high,” she said, and he tried to brush her aside, but Sabine wouldn’t go. “Listen to me, Nash. You’re not thinking clearly. You’re hurt, and angry, and you’re already mourning her, and the Demon’s Breath is making all that worse. But I’m telling you right now that she’s gonna hate you for this.

And so will Tod.”

“Screw Tod!” Nash shouted, and I jumped, startled. I blinked, and everything looked a little clearer. The world felt a little sharper. “He shouldn’t have been anywhere near her in the first place.”

“Fine. But this isn’t going to fix that. You can’t talk forever, and as soon as you stop, she’s going to realize what you’re doing, and she’ll die hating you.

Is that what you want?”

Fear slipped into the vacuum that the departing mental haze left in my head, and my hands started to shake. Something was wrong. I didn’t want to go…wherever he wanted to take me.

“I just need her back, for one day. This is my last chance to make that happen.” Nash pulled her out of the way and pushed me closer to the car. “Get in,” he ordered, and the pain in his voice almost rivaled the Influence.

But by then I understood. This was wrong, and I should fight it.

I watched him through my own tears, struggling to keep my legs locked.

To stay standing. “If you ever loved me, you won’t do this…” I whispered, with all the volume I could manage.

“I do love you. Everything’s going to be fine, I promise. Now get in the car.”

“She doesn’t want to go with you!” Sabine pulled him away from me, but he jerked free of her hold.

“Yes she does. Ask her.” And he was right. I wanted to go wherever he wanted to take me, and that fact scared me so badly I could hardly breathe, because I knew I shouldn’t want to. “Sit, Kaylee.”

My legs gave out and I fell onto my own passenger seat, as the first tear trailed down my cheek.

He tried to close the door, but Sabine held it open. “Nash, don’t make me do this…”

“Get out of the way. You know I’d never hurt her. I just want to talk to her,” he said, face flushed with irritation, irises swirling in an uneven, complicated mix of grief and determination.

“That is hurting her.” Sabine punched him in the stomach, and he doubled over from the blow. And suddenly I was free.

While he coughed, I sucked in a deep, clean breath and stood on shaky legs, tears falling steadily now, backing away from him in horror.

“Thank you,” I whispered to Sabine, and I realized from the bruised look in her eyes that she was hurting, too. Maybe more than I was.

“Just go away, Kaylee.” She handed me my keys and slid one arm around Nash to hold him up. “You did this to him, and the sooner he’s over you, the better off we’l al be.”

The ache in my chest was a steady throb of guilt, and fear, and worry. I slammed my open door, and backed away from them both, then around the car. “Are you sure you can handle him?” I asked as I sank into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah. I’m stronger than you are. And I know how to work off misplaced aggression.”

The truth of both statements pissed me off, but I wasn’t going to argue.

“Keep him away from me. And keep him clean.” Then I started the car and drove out of the lot, fighting more tears.

I texted Emma to tell her I was going home, and that she should stay away from Nash for a while, and that I’d call her after school to explain. Then I took several deep breaths and cal ed Harmony from the road.