The Devil's greatest trick actually wasn't convincing the world he didn't exist.
I put my arms up around my head to protect it, sinking to my knees into the wet sand. It's cold. So cold. My skin pulls in his direction and my heart throws itself into the sea. Blackness, death is better than this feeling but this feeling is exactly what he wants.
I'm not giving it to him.
Not today.
Bridget-
His voice draws me closer still. His hand outstretched, waiting to bring me to him. Waiting to lift me up. Waiting to take credit for saving me or maybe for destroying me. His mouth is turned up, a beautiful, devastating line setting the tone for his face.
Come, now.
I shake my head and keel forward until I taste grit and salt. I turn my head so my cheek rests against the sand. I make myself into a ball. Maybe I can roll underneath the tide, never to be seen again. Dramatic sure but escape is escape and you don't know this man like I do.
And now he's put Bryan Adams in my head and I can't get him out. So the whole mess is set to a host of beautiful ballads from my formative years in which they raised me only to tear me down, putting the pieces into their pockets, only to spend the rest of their lives fighting over an equal share.
Help me, I ask Jake but his reflection breaks in the surf.
Bryan will help me, if only he'd put down his microphone.
Shouts from beyond my hearing tell me if I wait, if I stay put, everything will be fine.
But in the meantime.
Here it comes.
A wave of cold threats, a promise of death crashes over my head, pulling my knees out from my chest, rolling me into the Pacific only to find she doesn't like the taste and so she spits me back out.
Jesus. Help me, I order Cole, who never helped me a day in his life and isn't about to start. His reflection fades into Caleb's and I scream.
Are you finished? His face is an inch from my own. He isn't an apparition. Too bad.
I wish, I tell him and close my eyes as another wave crashes over us both.
I remember the smell of your skinIt's in the way he uses Lochlan's habits (she can be soothed with music) and tries to pass them off as his. Tries to blur the edges. Tries to bend my brain into shapes that hurt now, shapes it no longer bends into.
I remember everything
I remember all your moves
I remember you
I remember the nights, you know I still do
So if you're feeling lonely—don't
You're the only one I ever want
I only want to make it good
So if I love you a little more than I should
I put my arms up around my head to protect it, sinking to my knees into the wet sand. It's cold. So cold. My skin pulls in his direction and my heart throws itself into the sea. Blackness, death is better than this feeling but this feeling is exactly what he wants.
I'm not giving it to him.
Not today.
Bridget-
His voice draws me closer still. His hand outstretched, waiting to bring me to him. Waiting to lift me up. Waiting to take credit for saving me or maybe for destroying me. His mouth is turned up, a beautiful, devastating line setting the tone for his face.
Come, now.
I shake my head and keel forward until I taste grit and salt. I turn my head so my cheek rests against the sand. I make myself into a ball. Maybe I can roll underneath the tide, never to be seen again. Dramatic sure but escape is escape and you don't know this man like I do.
And now he's put Bryan Adams in my head and I can't get him out. So the whole mess is set to a host of beautiful ballads from my formative years in which they raised me only to tear me down, putting the pieces into their pockets, only to spend the rest of their lives fighting over an equal share.
Help me, I ask Jake but his reflection breaks in the surf.
Bryan will help me, if only he'd put down his microphone.
Shouts from beyond my hearing tell me if I wait, if I stay put, everything will be fine.
But in the meantime.
Here it comes.
A wave of cold threats, a promise of death crashes over my head, pulling my knees out from my chest, rolling me into the Pacific only to find she doesn't like the taste and so she spits me back out.
Jesus. Help me, I order Cole, who never helped me a day in his life and isn't about to start. His reflection fades into Caleb's and I scream.
Are you finished? His face is an inch from my own. He isn't an apparition. Too bad.
I wish, I tell him and close my eyes as another wave crashes over us both.