And the sheer, fucking rage at Brett’s audacity. He took something perfect, and bright, and he broke it.
My thumb brushes over her cheekbone, just once. I don’t trust myself to touch her any more than that.
I don’t deserve to touch her any more than that. My own voice is rough, grating against my throat. “I’m going to be here tomorrow. Every day, Kenny. I promise, okay?”
She doesn’t meet my eyes. “Okay.”
She doesn’t fucking believe me, and I don’t blame her.
“What he did wasn’t your fault,” she whispers, looking up. Her eyes are glistening again, and it’s shredding me. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. You already had one grief to deal with. I didn’t want to add to it—,”
“That’s not on you,” I snap. Immediately, I soften my voice. “You’re not adding to my grief by leaning on me, Kenny. I want you to lean on me.”
But not today. Not when I feel as if my rage could easily destroy her too. As if it could be endless. I’m barely fuckingkeeping it together, my jaw tight and my hold on the wheel tighter.
Kennedy has paid enough of a price for my pack’s issues.
No fucking more. “Tomorrow. All of us will be here, Ken. We’re… we’re going to fix this. As long as it takes. Together, okay?”
Her tears spill over, and I can’t. I can’tnot.
I’m out of the car, my arms wrapping around her. And she collapses into me, her sobs soaking my t-shirt in seconds as I hold her up.
She’s been holding herself up for months.
Alone.
“I’m so sorry.” My voice shakes. “I’m so sorry, Kenny.”
It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. My apologies do nothing to fix what he did. Or what I did to her after, when we found her again.
Eric Matthews went after her, and I shouted at her.
I forced her onto her knees and tried to use my bark to make hertalkabout it.
If she had—
Bile climbs up my throat, and I blink away the mist in my eyes, blowing out a breath as I stare blindly up into the sky.
She doesn’t even feel right against me. As if she’s a light breeze, barely present, instead of fire and fury and feeling.
Neither of us speak as she cries, and I hold her. I’m terrified of somehow hurting her more, of triggering something. Flashbacks, or memories.
I need Oscar, and his knowledge on everything. I need him to decide how we can help her. I need Jake to help me find the right words, and Max to hold us all upright.
I don’t bring anything to this, not really.
I’m terrified that she might look at me like I’m him.
I wear his fucking face.
My arms drop, and I back away. “Do you… need me to stay?”
It’s getting late. We spent a long time up there, as she told me in halting words that ebbed and flowed.
The attack.
The way she ran and didn’t stop, with Max’s words in her ear.
