Possessed Soul

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Is he dead?" she asked, between tears. It was hard for me to guess if she was asking the question because she wanted him dead, or because she was worried that I had actually killed him.

I shook my head, but then realised she wasn't looking at me but at the floor. "No," I told her.

The only sound coming from her mouth were little sobs and sniffles.

"Foxie." I crouched down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "We really need to go."

"Don't call me that," she ordered half-heartedly. She shook my hand away and stood up. Her fingers immediately grabbed either side of her jersey and held it together. Tears glistened on her face, and without thinking I reached my index finger out and caught one drop. In the dim light of the police station her tear looked like a diamond. I squished it with the tip of my finger.

"Don't waste your tears," I said. "They're way too precious."

I wasn't sure if she heard me; if she did, she did a good job of ignoring me. She stepped out of the cell and grabbed an oversized grey coat off the coat rack. She shrugged the coat on, keeping her back towards me.

I waited for her to dry her face with a tissue from a box that sat on the wooden desk, before I walked towards the door. "You're not leaving me, are you?" she enquired.

I closed my eyes, sighed and turned around. She gazed at me from under long eyelashes which were a shade lighter than her hair.

"You don't want to come with me," I argued.

"I have nowhere else to go," she told me, her bottom lip quivering.

"You should go home."

"You heard what Patrick said," she pointed out. "I'll die if I go home." It struck me that she called Officer Stark by his first name, but what did she mean by she would die. I would have asked if I wasn't worried about Johnson waking up at any minute. I walked away and pretended I didn't hear her. But with each step I took, I could hear the sound of footsteps behind me. I exhaled deeply and waited for her to catch up to me. She laced her fingers with mine. This action surprised me. Her palm lying flat against the back of my hand almost felt like it belonged there. "Please," she begged.

I couldn't say no... not to her. This girl had a habit of making me do things I had never dreamt of doing. I remained mute, but continued walking with her hand in mine. We made an awkward pair,- her in a jacket that hung loosely, and me covered in dried blood. "You owe me," she stated. "You'd still be stuck in there if it wasn't for me."

"True," I agreed. Our intertwined hands swung as we walked.

"He tasted foul," she pointed out, trying to add as much as she could to her case.

"You're only saying that because you're comparing his kiss to mine," I teased her. I wasn't sure why I felt like I could joke with her about a situation like this, but the words were out of my mouth before I could filter them; and I lessened the blow with a small smile.

"Huh," she rolled her eyes. "As if you're the world's best kisser."

"I am," I replied, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Prove it." Her hands flew to cover her mouth as she realised what telling me to prove it meant.

"Too late." I turned so that I was facing her. My hands travelled from her shoulders down the length of her arm, and then I took both her hands in mine. "This is all the proof you'll need."

I shouldn't have kissed her. We didn't belong together, we were from different worlds; but when I started I couldn't stop. Kissing her was like flying. I couldn't quite describe how soaring through the clouds felt, but I knew it was the best feeling I'd ever encounter. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me towards her. I was conscious of the fact that we were in the middle of a public square and that we were still fairly close to the police station, but I needed her more than I've ever needed anyone or anything before. I gently lifted her feet off the ground and wondered if she would be grossed out by the fact that I was covered in blood. The kiss was beginning to make my spilt lip hurt, but I didn't care. I welcomed the pain and continued kissing her. Her body suddenly went limp in my hands. My first reaction was that the kiss was numbing her. It wasn't abnormal... I had once kissed a girl who fell down after I brushed my lips against hers. I pulled away from Sage and realised my hands were the only thing holding her upright. Her closed eyelids were casting shadows under her eyes and her lips were parted slightly. She was motionless and barely reacted when I lightly touched her face.

"Sage." I shook her shoulders just a little bit, but it was no use: she was out cold. Worry seized me. "Sage, please wake up." People were beginning to stare at us, but could you blame them? Her torso was parallel to the floor and her head fell back, my hand on her back was the only thing between her and the hard pavement.

We couldn't stay here like this. Someone was bound to call the police. I could leave her and run, but that thought was gone before I even considered it. I needed to get us out of here.

I pulled her to my chest and concentrated on her soft heartbeat. The rise and fall of her chest was the only indication that she was alive. I put a hand under her knees and scooped her body into my arms. I placed my other hand on her head, supporting it, like how you would hold a child. She looked so small in my hands that it was hard to believe that she was only a year younger than me. The sunlight reflected off of her face, highlighting her goddess-like features. I took a deep breath and tore my eyes away from her. Where could I take her? I could take her back into the Warehouse, but she didn't look like the kind of person who would be comfortable in a house of thieves. But what choice did I have? I couldn't drag her unconscious body into a motel; there would be too many questions, and I didn't have any money. The Warehouse was my only choice, and I hoped with all my heart that everyone would be okay with her staying with us.

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