I blew out a frustrated breath when he grunted in his sleep, as if he refused to wake up.
“Kale!” I pleaded, my emotion shining through my voice.
He groaned and moved around on his mattress, trying to get away from me.
“What is it, Lane?” he grumbled. “I’m sleeping.”
The wardrobe door creaked, so I let out a little whimper, and like a shot Kale was up from his mattress and climbing onto my bed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, now wide awake.
I threw my arms around him. “The wardrobe – it’s open. They’re gonna get me.”
Kale released a laboured breath but kept his tight hold on me. He placed his hand on my back and rubbed up and down. The action calmed me down a little, but not enough to let go of him.
“The latch on the door is broken,” he murmured, his voice low to soothe me. “That’s why it opens when it’s been closed – you know this. We talked about it, remember?”
I refused to believe that.
If that was true, then why did the door just magically decide to open in the dead of night? Why not during the day when it was bright out and not scary? I’d tell you why: it was because there was no stupid broken latch on the door. It was the hideous monsters that lived inside my wardrobe that opened the door at night. They were planning to take me away.
“It’s them,” I mumbled into Kale’s chest. “I know it is.”
He sighed but chuckled a little. “I’m not going to argue with you. Move over and I’ll sleep on the outside of your bed, so that way, if they come out, they’ll have to fight me to get to you.”
I gasped in horror. “No! What if they take you away?”
They couldn’t take Kale away from me. No one could. I wouldn’t allow it.
“I’m not going anywhere – now move over. It’s really late, and I’ve to get up for my football match tomorrow morning.”
I did as Kale asked; I moved to the inside of my bed and shivered because that section of the bed was cold. Kale settled next to me, and I thought he was going to turn his back to me so he could watch the wardrobe, but he didn’t. He lay on his back and used his left hand to tug me over to him. I was wide-eyed as he settled my head on his shoulder. His arm was hooked around my body and his hand rested on my hip.
My. Hip.
I began to breathe heavily, and I felt myself blush like crazy. I could actually feel the heat crawl up my neck and spread out over my cheeks like wildfire.
What the heck was happening?
“You okay?” Kale mumbled to me, then yawned.
I cleared my throat. “Yep . . . just scared about the monsters.”
That was a lie; I wasn’t bothered about the monsters anymore. I was freaked out that I was feeling strange lying like this on Kale. He was on my bed, and I was just lying on him. I liked it. A lot. And that was super weird because Kale was like my brother, but I didn’t feel all tingly in my stomach when I lay with my real brothers, so why was it like this with Kale?
I’m coming down with a severe case of the flu, I thought. It’s the only explanation.
“Lane, are you sure you’re okay?” Kale pressed, worry laced throughout his tone. “You’re breathing really fast.”
I swallowed and tried to control the rise and fall of my chest.
“Yep, I’m good, like I said . . . just scared of the monsters.”
He sighed. “There are no such thing as monsters, Lane. I told you to pay no attention to those stupid lads in your class at school.”
I grunted and sat up so I could look down at Kale. My room was dark, but the night-light plugged into my wall helped brighten the place up a little. It was enough for me to see Kale’s face anyway.
I looked down at his tired features, my eyes scanning over them. “But what if they’re right? What if monsters do come through the wardrobe at night and kidnap me? What if they eat me and spit out my bones? That would be horrible, Kale. I’d never survive it.”
I frowned when Kale shook with silent laughter.
“I’m not playing right now!” I huffed.
He laughed harder and had to put his hand over his mouth to muffle the noises.
I shoved at him. “You’re horrible!”
I turned my back to him and lay down on my side of the bed. I tugged my duvet up and covered myself with it completely, but the darkness creeped me out, so I poked my head out of the duvet, leaving everything else covered. Kale was lightly chuckling as he turned to me and grabbed at me with his hands under the covers. I slapped at his hands and kicked at his legs, and he found it bloody hilarious.
I was just about t0 explode with anger when Kale suddenly grabbed hold of my body and pulled me back into his. He wrapped his arms around me and pinned my arms to my sides, trapping my legs together by throwing his leg over them. I felt his bare chest pressed against my back and felt his breath on my neck.
“Kale,” I breathed, “what are you doing?”
I was feeling something, and I wasn’t sure what. I was very aware that it was Kale who was holding me, and I was also aware that I really liked it. I liked it in a way that I didn’t quite understand.
“Protecting myself,” he chuckled. “I knew you were about to snap and hit me.”
He was provoking me by laughing on purpose then.
I growled. “You’re such an idiot.”
“Possibly,” he said, chuckling, “but I’m an idiot who is going to protect you from all harm. Especially monster harm.”
Huh?
“How are you going to do that?” I murmured.
Kale untangled himself from me and slid off my bed. I was shocked at how badly I wanted him to stay, but it felt wrong because Kale was my best friend, like my brother, so I knew I shouldn’t want him to hold me . . . not in a way that made my skin tingle and my tummy hurt.
I shook my head clear of my very sudden and weird thoughts and focused on Kale, who was walking over towards my wardrobe. I gasped and gripped onto my duvet cover.
“Be careful!” I squealed.
Kale glanced over his shoulder, smiled at me and I just about died because he looked so . . . cute.
Oh, my God. I thought Kale looked cute. My Kale.
K–A–L–E.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my heart slamming against my chest.
He turned and nodded at the wardrobe. “I’m going to stand guard until you fall asleep or until the sun comes up. Whichever one comes first. You don’t have to worry. I’ll protect you.”
I licked my suddenly dry lips. “You – you would really do that? For me?”
Kale reached into the wardrobe and grabbed my baseball bat, then shut the door and leaned against it and winked at me. “Only for you.”
Butterflies exploded in my stomach, and I got giddy with excitement.
“I don’t know what to – thank you, Kale,” I breathed, completely in awe of him.
He smiled at me once more and gripped onto the baseball bat. “Don’t thank me. I can’t have monsters kidnapping you, right?”
I lay down and pulled my duvet up to my face so he wouldn’t be able to see my smile.
“I guess not,” I murmured.
“You guessed correctly,” he said, winking. “Now go to sleep, Laney Baby. I’ll protect you.”
“You promise?” I whispered.
“I promise to protect you always, silly.”
I stared at him as I remembered when I asked my Uncle Harry how he knew he loved my Aunt Teresa and he told me what he felt like. He said his stomach got butterflies, and his heart pounded really fast when he saw her. He said she made his heart happy, so it beat really fast when she was around, like it was singing for her.
He felt like I did at that moment when I looked at Kale. My heart was singing for him.
It was a daunting thought, but I positively knew in that instant, even though I didn’t know exactly what real emotion was, that I’d fallen wholeheartedly in love with Kale Hunt, and it frightened the living daylights out of me.
CHAPTER FIVE
Day one in York
What are you doing here, Lane?”
I jumped and looked over my shoulder when the voice of my father jolted me from my thoughts and brought me back to my sombre reality. I didn’t answer him straight away as I turned and looked back at the freshly dug hole.
“I needed to think, so I decided to go on a walk,” I replied.
When it had got late and my parents’ house became very quiet, my thoughts suddenly seemed to be too loud, so I’d decided to go on a walk. My feet brought me to my Aunt Teresa’s grave, and my Uncle Harry’s soon-to-be grave. I stared down at the grave plot that, starting from tomorrow, would house my uncle until the end of time, and it gutted me.
“You scared us,” my father said. “Everyone is out looking for you.”
I blinked with surprise and looked to my father when he came up beside me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think to tell anyone I was going out. I never have to do it in New York; I guess I forgot.”
My father sent out a text on his phone, pocketed it, then sighed and slid his arm around my shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
I felt bad, but since I’d already apologised, I remained quiet.
“Since we’re alone, I want to tell you something that I should have told you years ago.”
I blinked. “Okay.”
“I’m so sorry for what I said to you the day you told us you were leaving. I should have never said it, and I didn’t mean it. I’ve regretted it for years but was too stubborn to admit it.”
I wasn’t surprised at my father’s apology. I knew what he’d said was out of hurt and anger.
“It’s okay,” I assured him. “I forgave you the moment you said it.”
My father’s shoulders sagged a little. “I’ve missed you, my love.”
I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. “I’ve missed you too, Dad. I know it doesn’t seem that way, but I have. I just . . . it’s very hard to be here.”