A Kiss to Tell by W. Winters & Willow Winters

Author:W. Winters & Willow Winters [Winters, W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-08-11T16:00:00+00:00

I don’t know if they’ll let me stay here now that my uncle’s dead. He died last week and right before my eighteenth birthday. The lawyer said he willed everything to me, but with the debt he left behind, they may have to take the house from me to put into the estate.

And then I’ll have no one and nowhere to go.

Those are the thoughts that keep me up tonight even though I know school will come tomorrow. I can’t keep skipping class, so I need to sleep, but I can’t.

I’m so fucking angry. That’s what I feel most guilty about. I had one person who barely even spoke to me, but he let me stay here, and occasionally it felt like we were family. Uncle Travis was a good man, a trucker his whole life, but he didn’t much like other people. A lot of the time, I wondered if that meant me too. Being alone for so long will do that to you.

He came home two weeks ago, and we talked about what was coming after high school. Tears flood my eyes again at the thought and I angrily brush them away.

Even if he wasn’t physically here for me, or even if he never showed me much of anything other than a place to stay, I knew without a doubt last week that he loved me.

And now he’s gone. It’s not fair.

I take in a staggered breath and try to calm down as I cling to my pillow. I’ve never felt as selfish as I do now, being filled with anger when I should be mourning him.

What’s wrong with me?

Just as I think the question, I hear the floorboards creak behind me, toward the open door to the hall.

A shiver runs down my spine as my eyes open wider and then narrow. Swallowing thickly, I know it wasn’t just the chill in the air that made the old boards bend in the night. I can hear whoever it is walking closer.

It better be him, I think bitterly as I reach slowly into the nightstand. My uncle left everything to me, and that means his gun too.

“You don’t need it,” the deep voice calls out from the doorway just as my fingertips brush the cold metal. Slowly shutting the drawer, I let my eyes close and try to calm the adrenaline racing through my body.

“Why are you here?” I ask him without turning to face him. My chest aches with a pain I can’t describe. Sebastian used to come all the time at night when I first moved in here.

“It’s been a while,” I tell him and hate the nostalgia in my tone.

He’s quiet; he always is.

He kissed me, he followed me, and then he left me alone.

“I’m fine,” I tell him and then turn in bed, slowly bringing myself up to sit cross-legged under the covers. “As fine as I can be.” Years ago, when he’d come, he wouldn’t leave until he believed me when I said those words.

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