She held a hand up. “I know it isn’t that simple. Nothing with you ever is. But I get it. He’s hot. I’d have fallen for his sexual prowess as well. I still have so many questions.”
“I know. I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand why he approached us like that.”
“He obviously likes you enough to want you around longer.”
I shrugged. “I guess so? He’s confusing and goes against everything I stand for, but he’s a good guy. So far. I meant it when I said he refused to hurt me.”
Willow flopped onto her side, looking up at me. “You gotta see it from my point of view too, Crew. Not only am I pissed and hurt that you kept this from me, but imagine what I’ve seen. I know you only sleep with the roughest, toughest, asshole men. You have a type, and you don’t deviate from it. So imagine my surprise when I walk in, see you covered in bruises, and in bed with your boss, of all people.”
The sadness in her voice almost broke me. “I thought he hurt you because you’ve never let someonenothurt you. Price felt like my last chance at seeing you blossom, or grow, or some stupid, hopeful shit like that. When I walked in, I felt heartbroken. I’ve been desperately tryingto get you away from this life, and there he was, a man I’d pushed you towards, hurting you.”
Hearing her side of things, it made sense. Her reaction was out of concern, which I already knew, but didn’t fully understand. “I’m sorry.” I lay next to her, our bodies facing one another.
She shook her head slowly, reaching out to lightly touch my bruised cheek. “I stopped being able to see a future for us. When we were kids, I imagined New York would be a clean break. Now, when I think about our future, I see myself kneeling at your gravestone.”
“Willow.” My voice broke. It felt like I’d been punched in the gut again. It hurt to pull a breath in, making odd wheezing sounds come from my throat.
“Shh, let me finish. You don’t understand. When you come home late at night, bruised and bloody, it chips away at me. And on the nights you don’t come home at all, I wait by my phone for the inevitable call that you’re dead or seriously hurt.”
I let her pull me into her body, curling my face against her chest. I listened to her speak through small hiccups, knowing tears were falling down her cheeks. “The path you’re on, Crew? It’s going to rip you away from me. Whether it’s the men that kill you, or yourself. I accepted that if this job with Price didn’t work out, I’d lose you. Not eventually, not in the future, but soon. Do you understand what it’s like to grieve someone who hasn’t died yet? ’Cus I’ve been grieving you for fucking years and that breaks my heart more than anything.
“So, yeah. When I saw Price, I thought that was it. I was fucking furious. And so damn hurt because I knew my attempts at saving you had officially failed. To me, it wasn’t walking in on my best friend and his new boyfriend, it was me walking in on my best friend’s last call to life.”
I couldn’t tell who was crying harder anymore. I couldn’t open my eyes, letting everything pour out after hearing Willow explain. I could sit here and claim I had no idea how much pain she was in, but that’d be a lie.
Deep down, I had always known. She was right. The path I was on was going to kill me.
That was the point of it, actually.
As a human, I was selfish enough to disregard Willow’s heart in the matter. For years, I had fought with her about it. As the prostitute who took pain with greed, I didn’t care. As Crew Hayes, the man who loved his best friend more than anything in the entire world, I was broken.
I wasn’t used to giving a shit. It hurt to admit that I did. “I’m so sorry, Willow. I’m so fucking sorry.” I sniffed, pulling back to look up at her face. “He isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my fucking catalyst. He’s the inevitable, not my death, and that scares the ever-loving shit out of me.”
Willow frowned at me with her lips wet with tears and snot. She looked so beautiful, even at her ugliest. “I wish you would talk to me. I wish I could understand. I wish I knew why it scared you so bad.”
I opened my mouth, wanting to spill it all. I wanted to disband all the thoughts running through my mind.
But Thompson cut me off with a mental stabbing to my brain. With a heaving sob, I sank into Willow’s embrace further. “I can’t tell you. I’m so sorry, but I can’t tell you, Willow.”
She rubbed my back soothingly. “I know, honey. I know.”
“I wish Mom was here.” She’d hug me like Willow was doing. Maybe even sing me one of her songs. The deep, burning need to hug her one more time tore me to shreds, leaving nothing in its wake.
“I wish she was here too.”
With that, I cried.
And cried.
I had cried more in the last twenty-four hours than I had in ten years.
Like all things in life, my crippling breakdown slowly ended. My chest ached, my eyes burned, and I could hardly breathe through my nose. The room was silent save for a few sniffles coming from me or Willow.
Until finally, Willow gave me a horrifying order I knew I was powerless against obeying. “See Price again. Not at work. Ask him to dinner. Maybe he doesn’t have to just be your inevitable. Maybe he can be your new path.” She pressed her lips against the side of my head, right by a scar I’d earned from previous disobedience. “Give yourself a future, Crew. I’m tired of preparing your funeral arrangements when you’re only twenty-three.”
A searing pain wrapped itself around my heart. I felt the beats pick up, thumping just beneath my ribcage. The blood in my veins pulsed, spreading the warmth through my body as I realized what it was. I hadn’t felt it since my first day at Tiger Claw Camp. Fuck.
It was hope.
