16. Kali

CHAPTER 16

Kali

Me: I have a question.

Me: Feel free to say no.

This has to be the dumbest idea I’ve ever had.

Paxton: Yes.

I can’t help but laugh. I wonder if he’s this funny in real life. For a few weeks, we’ve been texting back and forth. I feel normal when we text, not the broken girl, even though he was the one who rescued me. It’s like my brain has separated the two.

Me: Okay. You said yes. Meet me here on Saturday.

Paxton: Time?

Oh, shit. This is really happening.

Me: Um…three?

Paxton: See you at three.

At exactly three o’clock, Paxton stands at the front door. My belly aches from nerves as I open the door and our eyes meet. I might not have thought this through. It’s been two months since we saw each other in the hospital. Talking through texts has been easy.

This isn’t easy.

“Hi,” I say, trying to act normal. Trying to breathe normally.

His smile, softened by the rough stubble and intense eyes, surprisingly steadies me. “Hey,” he says, breaking the awkward tension. “I brought a friend.”

“Riggs!” I exclaim, beaming as I notice the dog I’d missed in my focus on Paxton. I kneel to give him some deep rubs behind his ears before standing back up when I hear Ted behind me.

Ted insisted on meeting him before we left. It felt weird and wonderful having a father figure worry about me. Having both Amy and Ted so invested in my healing has helped me become a stronger version of myself. Zander may be the one who is equipping me physically, but dinnertime conversations around the dining table, movies on the couch, and laughter with Ted and Amy have made me feel so much stronger emotionally.

I’ve never felt this cared for—loved—since I lost my parents.

Introductions are made quickly, and we’re out the door. I needed to rush things along because the longer I stood there, the more second thoughts crept in.

Paxton opens the door for me and asks where we’re headed. I bite my lip, hesitating as he stares at me with a lifted brow. “We’re going back to the spot.”

He does a hard nod and shuts my door without a word. He probably thinks I’m crazy. When he gets in, I wait for him to say something—anything—but he stays silent, putting the Jeep in drive and heading down the dirt drive.

Minutes pass before he finally asks, “You sure about this?” His focus is on me as the wind swirls around us in the open Jeep.

Stray hairs dance in the gusts, and I all but give up keeping them in check. I try to control the jittery nerves, my leg bouncing with pent-up energy. As I chew my inner cheek, my eyes fix on Paxton, still surprised he’s here.

I fidget in my seat. “This is stupid, isn’t it?” Please say it is.

“This is your thing. Personally, I’d rather never see that place again, but if it’s something you need to do, I’m happy you called me.” Riggs barks in the back seat, and Paxton gives him a side eye over his shoulder. “Okay, us. Called us. Better?” Riggs barks again, making me laugh. He can’t be that smart, can he?

Paxton’s crooked smile sends a subtle thrill in places it shouldn’t. He’s so good-looking . I avert my eyes forward and focus on the monotonous stretch of road ahead, rather than on the muscles in his arms or the way his sturdy fingers grip the wheel. Or how sexy he looks with his baseball cap backward. There’s something familiar about him with his cap on, but I can’t place it. He looks younger. But my thoughts, at the moment, are a chaotic mess when all I can focus on is my next phase: confronting my chamber of horror.

What is wrong with me? Dr. Betty mentioned alternative approaches to confront my trauma, but I must do this on my own. A way to prove to myself that he didn’t win. I think of the worn paper in my pocket. Don’t give him control.

Needing a distraction, and clearly Paxton is a distraction, I shift in my seat.

“Are you married? Or have a girlfriend?” Brown eyes turn toward me with a hint of amusement. I wave him off as if I’m not asking for a personal inquiry. Maybe I’m asking for a friend. “If a lady calls me upset about her husband spending time with me, I want to be prepared. I should’ve asked this before.”

His laugh catches in the wind. I love his laugh. It’s carefree and infectious and what I need right now. “If some woman calls you saying she’s my wife, I’m gonna need a heads-up so I can get a restraining order in place.”

“Girlfriend?” I press, because there’s no way this guy is unattached. Not looking like that. He loves his dog, and he’s a live-action hero. Saving people every day, myself included.

He shakes his head, and I remain still, shooting him an incredulous glare because it’s difficult to believe. He shrugs. “I date. I haven’t found the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with yet.”

Riggs sticks his head between the two of us and I scratch it. You need to approve of her too, huh?

But any fluttering butterflies in my chest die a swift death the second the Jeep veers off the main road. Even though I don’t know our location, an eerie sense of closeness fills the air. The stench is already clogging up my throat. I’m thrown back in time. My hands grip the bar in front of me, and I squeeze my eyes shut in sheer terror.

The truck comes to an abrupt stop. “That’s it. We’re turning around.”

My eyes fly open, and a wave of blistering heat hits me, intensifying the moment. “No.” I take quick breaths and plead with my eyes. “I can do it. I need to do it.”

He lifts his ball cap off and runs his hands through his hair before putting it back on. “I don’t know if I can stomach watching you torment yourself.”

I shake out the tenseness in my arms and sit up taller. He’s right. I’m here to prove this place doesn’t control me, but now the invisible leash tightens, proving the opposite.

“Please,” I beg, desperation lacing my plea.

He shakes his head in disapproval but puts the Jeep back in drive.

We stop, the empty grave to the right of us. I unfasten my seat belt, not allowing myself any time to reconsider. Both my feet hit dirt, and my mouth feels like a desert, making it impossible to swallow. This is where he stood, reveling in my terror, listening to my desperate pleas for life as I fought like a rabid animal, caged.

Paxton walks around to the front of the Jeep and waits for me, an unspoken understanding lingering in his eyes. Paxton directs Riggs to stay.

“ When you get there, Kali, remember that you survived. As you confront that faceless, cowardly demon, you remind yourself that you survived. He didn’t win. You survived .” Dr. Betty’s words swirl through my mind as I sense the evil around me.

With each step, I whisper, “I survived” to myself. The earth shifts with each footfall, the weight causing a slight earthquake underneath me. I pause for a moment, glancing at the tree Paxton placed me under, giving me a moment to regain my senses. I exhale with puffed-out cheeks, shaking out my hands. Fresh scars line the tops of my hands, serving as a visceral reminder of the ferocious struggle. My nails, though still horrendous, are growing back. “I survived.”

I continue, nearing the edge of the hole, and Paxton matches my steps, a silent pillar of support at my side. The closer I get, the harder it is to breathe. Yellow tape still surrounds the hole, a stark reminder to the world that the girl buried alive suffered right here. As we approach, Paxton tears off one side of the tape, letting it fall to the ground. It dances like a serpent in the breeze before getting wrapped around the wooden stake.

I gaze down and swallow hard. They removed the box, leaving behind a random hole in the ground. I thought it would be deeper. In the suffocating darkness, it felt as if there was a mountain above me.

Squatting down to a sitting position, I sit at the edge before pushing off and jumping into the hole. It’s only about four feet deep. Being free, it’s surreal to think this was the exact spot that held me captive.

A hawk soars overhead, casting a fleeting shadow, circling in search of death.

Not going to find it here. Not today.

Paxton watches me from above as I lie down. His crossed arms are tense, but he remains quiet. There’s a single cloud above, shielding me from the intense afternoon sun. Off in the distance, a clap of thunder warns of impending rain.

My fingers dig into the bed of the grave, and I take a deep whiff of the surrounding earth. This is not the devil’s playground . The dirt is as innocent as me. I am not afraid of you . For the first time, my stomach doesn’t twist. “I am free. This hole can’t hurt me anymore. It’s not the villain.”

A sense of calmness envelops me, and my lips curve up. Even though Dr. Betty told me I had made great improvements, I questioned if I really had. I was in a controlled arena, and I wondered if I would crumble the second I got within five feet of this place. But I didn’t. I did it. “I beat you, asshole. You didn’t kill me. You didn’t break me. I. Beat. You.”

That same surge of energy propels me upward. Paxton extends his hand to help me up from the shallow hole, but my uncontrollable excitement sends me right into his arms. He catches me effortlessly, my feet dangling above the ground. In that perfect moment of a million milliseconds, everything around us disappears. His eyes fill with longing as they drop to my wet lips. My heart moves faster than my brain, like lightning chasing thunder, and before I can stop myself, I lean in to kiss him.

And then it ends before it begins.

He sets me down and twists away from me, his shoulders tense as he silently fights with himself.

Oh my gosh. Why did I do that ? “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean?—”

He whips back around, shaking his head and running his hand over his stubbled beard. “Kali, there’s nothing to be sorry about.” He sighs, shoving his hands into his short pockets. “You’re the one dealing with all these emotions. I’m supposed to be the one in control.”

Right,” I say, relieved he’s offering me an out to one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. “Because if I was in control, we’d probably both be dodging emotional landmines like it’s a game of Twister.”

His laugh lightens the moment. “You would totally win because I’d trip on the first one.”

“Oh, whatever, sly. I saw the video of you jumping some fence.” Of course, I googled him and that was the first thing that popped up.

He rolls his eyes, biting his bottom lip. “I can’t believe you saw that.”

“It was the comments from the women that did it for me. I’ve never seen women act that desperate. I was a slightly afraid for your safety,” I tease, happy to have moved on from the awkward kissing attempt.

“Freaking man-eaters,” he says, laughing out loud as we start heading back to the Jeep.

I stop before getting in, turning to face him, a weight of gratitude filling my chest. “I just…can’t thank you enough.”

“Stop. You don’t have to thank me for anything,” he insists. I have everything to thank him for. He has to see that. I don’t imagine this area gets a lot of traffic. If not for him and Riggs, we’d be standing at my gravesite. A flash of lightning brightens the sky behind him. The storm is getting closer. “Was that your stomach?”

“No, it was thunder,” I lie, a blush coloring my cheeks as I glance down. Dirt covers my brand-new white shoes. “I should’ve eaten lunch.” Glancing at my watch, I realize it’s already four. I had too much anxiety to eat before I left, but now my stomach is revolting.

“I have stuff to cook at my cabin,” he offers, but sensing my hesitation, he quickly suggests, “Or, I can take you to dinner? Either way, you’re getting something to eat.”

It’s not about the food, it’s him taking me to his house. I practically just threw myself at him. But he’s right, that was a momentary lapse of judgement caused by an emotional heart attack. This is silly, I can control myself around him. I’m not one of those man-eating women. With my clothes covered in dirt and having already fished rocks and sticks from my hair, I’d rather not embarrass him in public.

I brush my palm against my dirty shorts. “The cabin sounds great, if that’s all right. I’m a bit of a mess right now.”

“No, it’s perfect,” he says, reassuring me. “I just stocked up on groceries. Hope you like steak and potatoes.”

I stare at him for a few seconds, biting my lip. “I’m a vegetarian,” I deadpan.

His face contorts as if he ate a lemon before he manages to plaster a forged smile on his face. “Okay. I, ah, think I have stuff to make a salad.”

He shifts from foot to foot, and my laughter bubbles up. “I’m kidding. Texas girl here, through and through. Medium rare, and I’ll eat any type of potato that’s put in front of me.”

“Kalico, you are my type of person.”

Did he just give me a nickname? “Kalico?”

“It’s fitting. You’re cute and have nine lives.”

Cute? Like little sister cute? Friend cute? Cute is not the word for a girl you like, right? I tamper down the flutters in my belly. Don’t misread him, Kali. He just made it clear he wasn’t into you five minutes ago. He’s just being a nice guy. A friend.

He walks around the Jeep. “I’ve got pie too,” he says over his shoulder, and I freeze, wondering why his words give me pause. I blink as memories of the college guy who sent me a pie flood my mind. “Kali, what’s wrong?”

Light-brown eyes meet mine, and I draw comparisons between the two guys. No. It’s not him. There is no way. That guy had green eyes, was clean shaven, and he was a student—definitely younger. They both have a sexy smile. But that doesn’t make them the same person.

“Nothing… I just got lost in thought.” I wave him off. “What kind of pie?”

“Pecan, of course. Is there any other?”

I can think of at least five that’s better than pecan.

I playfully sigh as I shake my head. “Nobody can be perfect.”