The taste of betrayal is hard to swallow. It chokes me more than the
blood in my lungs ever could.
I don't remember how the fight started with Kate. She'd been calling
herself Mrs Holliday again and it was just too much to bear after those
dreams.
The dreams were getting so real, so vivid that I could feel his body
heat even while lying in bed alone, shivering.
Kate only wanted to help. I know that. Sometimes she's out for money,
out for herself, out for a fight, but this time she only wanted to help.
I knew that, but after those dreams her touch was too much to bear.
The fight was one of our more violent ones. Another room wrecked and
we're gossip fodder again. I don't care. In my fever I can still feel
his body heat.
A floorboard creaks and there's someone else in the room. I'm almost
afraid to open my eyes just in case it's him. When my name is finally
spoken it's almost his voice but not. I open my eyes but don't look
directly at Morg; I can still feel that body heat beside me, stronger
than the blood in my lungs and the betrayal in my throat.
When Morg speaks again it's because Wyatt has entered the room. I
close my eyes, unable to look at my friend while his body heat warms my
flushed skin.
Someone leaves. I think it's Morg and am proved correct when Wyatt
says my name low. After a moment, I feel his fingers brushing a few
errant strands of hair back from my forehead. It's almost too much but I
can't open my eyes, can't let him see the betrayal.
Wyatt sighs and settles down on the chair beside the bed even while
his body heat holds me closer.
The taste of betrayal is hard to swallow. It chokes me more than the
blood in my lungs ever could.