The Border: The Complete Series by Amy Cross Read Free Book Online Page B

sound.
    And the rushing of his blood in his ears. Sometimes he could hear that too.
    After spitting some phlegm onto the doormat, he made his way through to the front room. He flicked the light-switch a couple of times, hoping that it might have somehow fixed itself, but of course the room remained dark. Muttering some more expletives under his breath, he staggered over to the sofa and crashed down, landing hard and rolling onto his side. The journey home had been slow and difficult, and now it was almost one in the morning. Even though the whole world seemed to be spinning around him, he forced himself to sit up.
    Orbit.
    Everything was in orbit around his head, all at different speeds.
    Again, there was a creak elsewhere in the house. It sounded like it was on the stairs.
    Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and squinted, trying to see the screen properly. He had to try several times to enter his pin-code, before unlocking the damn thing and bringing up the list of contacts. Scrolling through, he found Caitlin's number and stared at it for a moment, before tapping twice and starting the call. He knew this was a mistake, that he'd regret it in the morning, but he figured he'd just have to deal with it in the cold light of day. Right now, the call was the only thing that felt right. As he raised the phone to the side of his face and waited, he felt tears welling in his eyes.
    “Hello?” a tired female voice said suddenly, answering the call. She sounded like a teenager.
    “Hey,” he replied. “It's me.”
    “Oh my God,” she continued, “I told you to stop calling!”
    “Caitlin,” he whispered. “Put Caitlin on.”
    “My name is not Caitlin,” she said firmly. “Jesus Christ, okay, this number has obviously been reassigned from your friend Caitlin to me. You need to stop calling, creep, or I'll go to the police, do you understand? I will have you fucking arrested for harassment!”
    “I just want to talk to Caitlin,” he replied. “Where is she?”
    “Go to hell, loser!”
    As the call ended, he sighed and tossed the phone onto the cushions. He'd been using burner phones for a while now, since the person with Caitlin's number always ignored his calls if she knew it was him. Glancing at the latest phone, he knew deep down that he was making a mistake, but at the same time he felt he had to keep trying. After a moment, he heard another creak, this time from out in the hall, and a few seconds later he realized that a figure had appeared in the doorway, watching him.
    “Hey,” he whispered.
    Silence.
    “Hey,” Caitlin replied finally.
    Turning, he saw her standing there, as beautiful as ever and still the young girl she'd been on that fateful night nine years ago. There were no cuts on her body, and there was no blood on her shirt. Her neck was straight and normal, and she was smiling.
    “I went out,” he told her, trying not to slur his words too much. “I was thinking about you the whole time.”
    “I know,” she replied with a smile. “You think about me a lot, don't you?”
    “It's been nine years,” he whispered, thinking back to that night when he'd followed her through the darkness and then found her in the nook of the oak tree.
    “Nine long years,” she replied.
    “I thought maybe...” Pausing, he looked down at his belly and then pulled his t-shirt up to expose the thick scars that criss-crossed his flesh. “They're still there,” he continued, squinting again as he tried to make them out properly in the darkness. Running his hands over the skin, he felt the thick, rumbled grooves of scar tissue. “Fuck. Sometimes I think they're ugly, but sometimes I think they're pretty. Tonight I think they're pretty.”
    “I think they're pretty too.”
    “You do?”
    “Of course. They're part of you.”
    After a moment, he heard her stepping closer, and finally she sat on the sofa next to him. He turned and saw that she was looking down at the scars.
    “They're beautiful,” she