The Accidental Kiss (The Kiss Book 1) (25 page)

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Authors: Nicole Simone

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BOOK: The Accidental Kiss (The Kiss Book 1)
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He cornered me against the brick wall, his face inches from mine. “Well do you? Do you want to die?”

I slammed my palms against his rock hard chest. He didn’t move. “Give me some fucking space! Jesus.”

“Not until you answer me.”

My heart hammered against my ribcage as we stared at each other. Fury coiled inside me, ready to strike out at him. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

I told him the truth. “No, I don’t want to die.” Daemon sighed, as if my answer released him of his greatest fear. “But I do wish you would jump off a steep cliff,” I continued.

He had the nerve to actually smile. “I know.”

The fury released itself and seeped into my veins like acid. “You took away my best friend, manipulated my memory, and all you can say is I know?” My fists clenched at my sides. “I fucking hate you, Daemon.” I laughed bitterly and shook my head. “No, hate isn’t a strong enough word for what I feel for you. I despise you.”

“You can’t hate me more than I hate myself.” He ran a hand through his hair. “If I could take back that moment in time, I would. Trust me. But all the apology’s in the world wouldn’t take away the pain I’ve caused you.”

He was right. A verbal Band-Aid wouldn’t get rid of the pain. Nonetheless, I wanted to take Daemon down to the lowest level of self-destruction where numbness was a gift. “What happened that night?”

“There was a reason I manipulated your memory. I wish I could have done the same to myself.”

“Tell me,” I bit out.

A haunted looked entered his gaze as he traveled back to August first, the day Melissa was ripped out of my life so unjustly. “The procedure was clear. Stage your death and get out. It was supposed to be easy but we hadn’t factored in the power of friendship.”

When Melissa and I were young, we stole a kitchen knife and sliced open our palms. As the blood seeped out, we bound our hands together and recited a friendship prayer. I don’t remember the words but the basic gist was that we would always have each other’s backs. I realized now how seriously Melissa had taken that vow.

Daemon cleared his throat. “There was a car accident but as you probably have guessed, it wasn’t an accident.”

“And I’m guessing that’s not what killed Melissa.” The images of her death played like a film in my head. My voice came out thick. “That she didn’t actually get thrown through the window. It was a human who did the deed.” When I witnessed the sadness in Daemon’s eyes, my statement was answered.

“You really want to hear this?”

I should have known recounting the story wouldn’t only hurt Daemon but me as well. It was like ripping open an old wound and pouring salt in it. I couldn’t turn back now, though. The true narrative about how my best friend died had to be heard. “Yes.” I said, hesitantly. “Tell me the truth.”

“When Parker slammed into your car, you guys spun off the road and ended up in a gravel patch. We had direct orders to bring you unharmed and anybody else involved had to die. Parker was hyped up on green so that wasn’t a problem for him. I wouldn’t touch the stuff though.” Daemon’s mouth pulled into a thin line. “When we got to the driver’s side, Melissa was unconscious but alive.”

She could still be here today if it wasn’t for me. The admission sunk me to my knees and I buried my head into my hands. “It’s my fault. Your hands might have killed Melissa but it was me who brought it upon her.”

Daemon crouched next to me. “It wasn’t your fault. It is the voodoo priest who shoulders the blame. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

My chin jerked up. “She shouldn’t have risked her life though.” A strangled sob broke out of my throat. “Why did she have to die?” Tears gathered in the corner of my eyes as I looked desperately at Daemon. “Why couldn’t you have just manipulated her memory?”

He attempted to console me but I shrunk away. “We had direct orders to kill.” The sky opened up and rain fell from the heavens above. “As I was dragging you out of the car, Melissa’s eyes opened. When she saw what I was doing, she started to scream bloody murder. She threw her body over you and tried to stop me.” He drew in a ragged breath. “Parker grabbed Melissa’s ankles and she attempted to fight him off. Amongst all the chaos, you regained conscious. You looked straight at me and it was like you saw me for who I was, not who I had become. That evil didn’t reside in my soul. In that moment, I knew I couldn’t complete my mission.” Daemon reached out and brushed the side of my cheek with his thumb. “You changed everything for me.”

Lost in his gaze, the world around us dimmed. It took me a few moments to find my voice. “What happened next?”

His eyes matched the stormy clouds above as he snatched back his hand. Dread turned in my stomach. This was the part of the story where Melissa was killed. I wanted to jam my fingers into my ears and run away. Daemon spoke quietly. “As I was about to abort the mission, Parker threw her through the windshield. I couldn’t bear the fact you witnessed your best friend’s murder so I manipulated your memory and convinced Parker we had to leave before the police got there.”

The cold brick dug into my back while I fought against the rising bile in my throat. It was no use though. I bent at the waist and dry heaved. Daemon smoothed back my hair as he murmured words of reassurance. Once I was done, my head tipped toward the sky. Raindrops splashed against my face. “Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

“No.”

We sat in the silence of the alleyway as puddles formed at our feet. I wished with every part of my being I could turn back the hands of time and save Melissa. Since I couldn’t, there was only one thing I could do. Avenge her death and kill the voodoo priest.

I rose to my feet. “Let’s head back.”

Surprise registered on Daemon’s face. “You sure? You can take a couple more minutes.”

“We’re wasting valuable time. The voodoo priest doesn’t deserve to breathe a minute longer.”

“I agree but I don’t know if his death is the answer. Let alone if it will make you feel better.”

Outrage hummed in my veins. “Nothing will make me feel better. My best friend is no longer alive because of me. You can twist it any way you want, but that is the truth. I can’t fix the inevitable. What I can do is stain the sidewalk with his blood and watch the life drain out of him.”

“You’re not a murderer, Sky.”

“Yesterday, I would have agreed with you.” As I was about to walk out of the alleyway, Daemon gripped my upper arm. I looked over my shoulder at him and scowled. “You can’t stop me.”

“I know I can’t. You are the most stubborn, resilient person I have ever met in my life. You are also beautiful with a pure soul that wouldn’t harm a single hair on anybody’s head.” He spun me around. Our faces inches from each other, my gaze took in his full lips. “When I said you changed everything for me, I meant it. Please, I beg of you—don’t turn into somebody you are not because of what I did. I couldn’t live with myself.” He softly brushed his mouth against mine. “Please.”

I fought against the urge to turn our kiss into something more but his touch was greater than any drug I’d ever known. Daemon brushed against my lips again, testing the waters. I let out a small whimper and his self-restraint shattered. His tongue teased mine as my mouth opened for him. I snaked my arm around his waist, pulling him closer to me. His fingers made their assault on my bare skin, cooling and heating me at the same time. In the distance, a car horn wailed and reality slapped me in the face. I broke our kiss and dragged in some much needed air into my lungs. Desire clouded Daemon’s eyes.

“We can’t do that again,” I said.

“Why?”

I threw my hands in the air because it was so obvious; I felt stupid even having to say it out loud. “We are toxic together, can’t you see? Death follows us wherever we go. My best friend died because of us. We’ll remain together until we complete what we were meant to do but after that, we’ll each go our separate ways.”

His face-hardened. “If that’s what you want to do.”

“It is.” But as the words left my lips, I wanted to shove them back in and forget I had ever said them.

The sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the cavernous entryway of Mrs. Ruth’s house. Our clothes clung to our bodies, water dripping onto the marble floors.

“I’m going to take a shower and head to bed. I’ll see you in the morning,” Daemon said.

I watched him walk up the staircase and I couldn’t help but feel the distance grow between us the further out of sight he got. Grief settled in my bones. Tonight was a night where I would mourn the loss of my best friend and a man who somehow along the way had stolen my heart. My feet headed in the direction of the kitchen. I flipped on the light switch, illuminating a space that mirrored a chef’s wet dream: stainless steel appliances, Cara marble, and a vintage stove with a gas hood range. Either Mrs. Ruth loved to cook or she loved to show off her wealth. I’m guessing it was a combination of both. I opened the refrigerator and was delighted to see it was well stocked. My mouth watered with the endless choices presented. A roasted chicken, fruit, caviar, and a plethora of nut butters lined the shelves. I was in desperate need of the comforting embrace of my mother so I turned to the next best thing: a peanut butter sandwich with the crusts cut off. I set the white bread and other essentials on the counter.

As I was searching for a knife, Mrs. Ruth’s melodic voice spoke up behind me. “I have never had a food burglar before.”

I faced her, ashamed at my lack of manners. “Sorry,” I stammered. “I haven’t eaten anything since this morning and I was…”

My words died off as a grin pulled at her lips. She floated over and nudged me aside. Pulling open a bottom drawer, she grabbed a knife and handed it to me. “I was just joking with you. My home is your home.”

“Thank you,” I said sincerely.

Mrs. Ruth hoisted herself onto the counter, her legs dangling over the side. It seemed like such a relaxed manner for somebody who seemed anything but. I had a sense though there was a lot more to her than met the eye.

“You came back,” she stated.

“Yes.”

“After everything he revealed to you?”

While it sounded as if she was judging me, there was genuine surprise written on Mrs. Ruth’s face. I laid a peace of bread on a plate. “Yes, I came back. Otherwise there’s a ghost in your kitchen with a fondness for peanut butter sandwiches.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Stupid ghost used my whole entire jam of jelly for one sandwich. Who does that?”

I shrugged because up until two seconds ago, it wasn’t known to me ghosts had an appetite. Mrs. Ruth sighed and kicked her feet against the cupboards. Underneath the pale lights, I noticed how youthful her face was and it made me second-guess her age to be around twenty-seven.

“It took balls to forgive Daemon,” she said.

“Who said anything about forgiving him? I simply don’t want to die and he is the key to my survival.”

“Is that all he is? A key? Nothing more?”

Her probing gaze reached the inner depths of my soul. Lying wasn’t an option when it came to Mrs. Ruth. I had a feeling she could spot bullshit a mile away.

“No,” I treaded carefully. “He has become more than a key, but he betrayed me and you can’t form a relationship without trust. Plus, I don’t know which way is up or down anymore. Who is my friend or my enemy? Who speaks the truth or speaks lies?” A headache formed behind my eyes and I rubbed my temples. “It’s exhausting.”

“Life isn’t simple for anybody. It’s a chaotic puzzle that yanks you in different directions. People always say you choose your own destiny when in reality destiny chooses you.”

“Like how I was born with this supposed gift that makes me a target for a power hungry voodoo priest?”

An amused grin spread over her face. “Yes, exactly.”

I smeared peanut butter on the bread as I mulled over Mrs. Ruth’s words of wisdom. Slapping the other piece of bread on top, I took a bite out of the sandwich. “I wish a different destiny chose me.”

“Don’t you think Daemon wishes the exact same thing?”

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind he did. Who wouldn’t? I pictured a life where Daemon wasn’t tricked into joining the voodoo priest and he lived a full and happy existence. A wife, 2.5 kids, and a dog named Buster.

“Obviously, nobody wants their soul stolen,” I said around a mouthful of food.

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