Chapter Four

Holy smokes. What is happening? Why is Kyson kissing me, and why do I enjoy the wrongness of it all so much? I'm supposed to hate him, not fall under the spell of his charm. The last time he kissed me, he made me cry. I'm not looking to repeat past mistakes or get involved with him, no matter how sweet and hot his lips are. Regaining my senses, I shove both palms against his chest.

"Stop."

"Stop what? Don't act like you don't want this, Dahlia." His mouth comes down hard on mine and our teeth clash. My head smacks against the building and his fingers thread through my hair, giving it a tug as he bites my lip. He's right that I do want it, but I shouldn't. His eager tongue slides between the seam of my lips, dominating me. Taking what he wants.

Uncaring.

Unforgiving.

He kisses me hard.

Rough.

Without mercy.

The sound of a car starting breaks me out of the torturous hold he has on my morals.

I close my mouth and shut down his advances. "We should get back to the house. I need to unpack." I can't believe I allowed myself to get wrapped up in Kyson. My stomach burns with thoughts of Matt. How disappointed he'd be. How much this would kill him if he knew?

I'm a terrible girlfriend.

"You can pretend all you want, but we both know when I slip into your room later, you'll be begging me to get you off." My cheeks burn at his crude words. No one has ever spoken to me like that. Rude and filthy. I should slap him for it, but I stare at my shoes, unable to meet his knowing and cocky gaze. "Let's go."

I grab my discarded stuffed animal he dropped. Silently, I follow him to the car, and it's him who refuses to look at me. "Kyson. Listen to me. Please. I can't do anything to screw up living here. Uncle John is my last resort. I can't go to live with my mother. Doubt she'd want me anyway, but if this doesn't work out, then I'll be forced into foster care until I come into my inheritance and can be on my own. You don't have a clue what it's like for me. I have no one. My dad was the only person who cared about me. John only took me in out of obligation. Pity. Perhaps guilt."

I don't tell him what a horrible girlfriend I am to Matt. No need to give him more ammunition.

I get into the passenger seat, and he peels out of the parking lot as though he's stolen precious jewels.

"Don't be mad at me. You know I'm right. We can't mess around."

Kyson continues to ignore me, revving his engine to drown me out. He's such a jerk, but I can't get that stupid kiss out of my mind. Shoving a cigarette between his lips, he steers momentarily with his knee to fish for his lighter.

I steal the cancer causing stick from his mouth and snap it in two. "I'd like to not die just so you can give yourself cancer. Thank you very much."

"My car, my rules. Don't like it…" he slows to a stop. "Get out and walk home."

"Fine by me." I'm done with his games. I'll text Lauren. I'm sure she can give me a ride. When I exit the car, I realize my mistake. I don't have my phone because Kyson said I wouldn't need it. Big oversight on my part for thinking he can be decent for longer than five minutes. He's like a toddler throwing a tantrum for not getting an extra cookie. Chill bumps fan up and down my arms as I walk, not bothering to look back to see if he is still pulled over or if he turned around to go chase after Britney or to go hang out with his butthead friends. I really don't care at this point. Coming here to live with my uncle was a terrible idea, but the alternative is way worse than whatever Kyson Allen can throw at me.

The purr of his engine revs behind me. Then a blur of black speeds past me. Whatever. I keep strolling along the side of the road, pretending to be unbothered. Pretending I'm not an idiot for picking now to stand my ground. But Kyson needs to recognize the fact he can't go around doing these stunts and treating people however he wants. Releasing a deep breath, I stop and stare out at the coast, wishing I were back home with my dad. I miss Matt. I miss life making sense. The sunset is a beautiful distraction. Shades of gold, pink, and orange serve as a gorgeous backdrop to the sun as it disappears. I suck in a breath as tears threaten to fall at thoughts of my old life. I swipe my cheeks, wishing more than ever I were back home with my father.

Right about now he'd be standing at the stove telling me about his workday as he cooked dinner. I'd be at the kitchen counter, perched on a stool, doing my homework or in my room texting with Matt about our weekend plans.

It's not fair.

None of this is.

Time to suck it up.

That life no longer exists.

My father is dead, and Matt and I are in different states. There might as well be oceans between us. I told myself that I would give this fresh start a real chance, but all I want is to go back in time to when things were easy.

To when my dad was alive.

Enough feeling sorry for myself.

I have a lot of walking to do if I'm going to make it home by midnight.

I take off in what I hope is the direction that will lead me to Uncle John's house, eventually.

A few cars attempt to stop, but I know better than to take rides from strangers. I have no desire to end up on a true crime documentary.

Not even ten minutes have passed when Kyson shoots past me and abruptly stops, throwing his car in reverse and squealing his tires in the process. Simultaneously, Remy pulls up behind me in his big truck. The passenger side window rolls down. "Need a ride, princess?" He shoots me a wink.

Kyson throws his car in park and stomps toward me. "Let's go. Get in the car."

"I think I'll take my chances with Remy."

"Get. In. The. Fucking. Car." He practically growls the words at me like a feral beast.

I shrink away from him, not a fan of the tone he's taken. The fire blazing in his eyes threatens to scorch me till the ends of the Earth. It's all too much. Too soon.

Immobile, I'm at his mercy. A prisoner trapped by his intense gaze. The heated way he glares at me steals the breath from my lungs. I can't breathe as he seethes at me.

Emotions I don't quite understand clog in my throat. Tears burn in the corners of my eyes, and I don't even comprehend why. Were things always this intense between us, even as children?

I shake away the heaviness of my thoughts, reaching for something solid to cling to before I give into his bratty behavior. "No." I barely get my fingers curled under the door handle of Remy's truck when Kyson grabs my wrist. His fingers bite into my skin with possession.

"If Kipling sees you in this truck, it won't just be my ass on the line," he warns.

I sense Uncle John is a bit stern, but there's something in Kyson's molten gaze that gives me pause. I search his expression, unsure of what to think. I'm cold and annoyed. I just want this day to end. I want to disappear.

I want to go home.

I want Matt to wrap his arms around me and promise me I'm safe there. Like I always have been. But it's not his touch I feel.

Kyson squeezes my wrist.

I swallow my last shred of pride. "Thanks for the offer. Maybe next time," I tell Remy.

He shakes his head but pulls out.

I get back in Kyson's car. He turns the radio up so high my seat vibrates. The tempo drums across my skin. I don't attempt to hold a conversation with him, and he keeps driving in the opposite direction of home. We end up on what I think is the other side of the town, parked outside of an old church that, by the sight of it, appears to be abandoned.

White chipped paint. Overgrown grass. Busted stained glass.

A place lost in time.

Kyson kills the engine and exits the car wordlessly. I'm still all sticky, but my clothes have mostly dried. I'd like to get home and change, but I suspect he brought me here for a reason. I grab his jacket and push my arms through the sleeves, being wrapped in the scent of him once more with a tinge of smoke. He doesn't stop to wait for me and disappears through a loud clanking black metal gate. The sky grows dark, the sun completely disappeared, and there aren't any lights on the pathway. I catch myself on some rocks and nearly take Kyson down with me when I plunge forward. I hold his shoulders for support.

"Careful," he grits in a low growl and takes one of my hands, knitting our fingers together. The warmth emitting from him causes me to shiver. "This way."

"What are we doing here?" I look around, observing the angel statues, crosses, and headstones that I can make out now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness that has enveloped us both.

"You're not alone. I lost my dad, too. He's buried here." I think I remember my dad saying something about it as a justification for the way Kyson acted out so much. He was murdered in a random robbery at a convenience store. Tried to play the hero, and it cost him his life.

I start to say I'm sorry and want to slap myself. I hate it when I hear it. It's a stupid cliché phrase that means nothing. People say it to be nice because they are unsure of what else there is to say to express their sympathies, I guess. Now I get why people said it to me, but I still hate it all the same. "When did he…?"

"I was five. I can't remember him. It's whatever."

It isn't, but I think we both get that. The last thing Kyson needs from me is pity.

"I bet you look like him. Is he where you get those dimples and gorgeous baby blues?" He turns to look at me, and I feel my cheeks growing all hot and red again.

"You think I'm gorgeous?" There's a dangerous edge to his voice.

"I think we should go home so I can get out of these clothes."

"Now there's a pretty picture." He steps closer, and once again I can't breathe.

I'm trapped, hypnotized by this electric pull, drawing me closer and closer to him. To Kyson. A bad boy I should hate. The last person I should crave comfort from. Yet I do.

I don't know if I can handle him kissing me again. Shame washes through me at thoughts of Matt. I tried to end things before I left, but he said no way were we breaking up. I don't know why I told Kyson we broke up. I guess technically it's not a lie. We did break up briefly.

I know I owe him better than this. However, that doesn't stop me from following my stupid heart. My hand glides to Kyson's cheek and slides along the stubble of his facial hair.

He needs to shave.

Neither of us speak for a beat. I feel out of my mind. Impulsive. Out of control and wild.

All those emotions that pulsed through my veins at the arcade return tenfold.

His gaze holds mine in the pale moonlight that peeks between the tree branches hanging overhead of us.

"I'm going to kiss you again." His breath fans over my lips.

My only response is the slight tilt of my head inviting him in, knowing I'm being stupid and unable to stop. Lips brushing over mine, this time he comes in soft, slow, and sweet. The world around us disappears. All that exists is the steady beating of our hearts and the grip he has on my hip. Tongue sweeping along mine, Kyson shows me that he can be gentle and not only take. This side of him is dangerous. It's all too easy to be swept up in the heat of his attention. I lean further into him, bracing a palm to his chest, craving things I shouldn't. Like more of his touch. His thumb slides under the hem of my shirt, brushing the pad along the edge of my skirt.

"Tell me to stop, Dahlia."

The word hangs on the tip of my tongue, but his breath hits my lips, and I can't bring myself to say goodbye to this version of him. Because once I say the word, I am aware he'll go back to being a jerk. And this moment will die and haunt me forever.

Much like our first kiss. It happened the last time we came for a visit. He kissed me and I thought it meant he wanted to be my boyfriend, but to him, all it was, was a cruel prank.

And now here I am repeating history.

Me clutched in the arms of the boy I've vowed to hate.

His lips pressed to mine in the sweetest kiss.

His tongue sweeps into my mouth without warning.

All coherent thought leaves my body along with my breath as I return his kiss.

I cling to him, desperate for this version of him to last a little longer.

Desperate to get lost in a life that isn't mine. Sirens warn in my head that this is poison, but I could die right here in his arms. I've never been kissed like this in my life.

The ringing of his cell phone from his back pocket breaks the spell. All the magic disappears. I pull away and he lets out a huff.

"What?" he snaps, then pauses. "We went out for pizza because there wasn't shit to eat there and no one was home. Yeah. We're on our way." He tucks his phone back in his pocket.

My stomach rumbles, reminding me I didn't even get to try the pizza.

"Everything okay?"

"Yup. John wondered where we were. I forgot to leave a note. Normally he wouldn't care where I am or what I'm doing but seems he's keeping tabs on his precious niece."

"Don't you guys get along?"

"Nope. He always wanted a child of his own, and well, all he got was me, so he's bitter. The feeling is mutual."

"That has to suck."

"Don't stress it. I don't."