He needs to be taught a lesson, and I’m not sure why I haven’t done it yet.
He needs a few days in a damp basement with nothing but his thoughts for company and fear of the unknown gnawing at him.
I frown at the spatters of blood on my knuckles.
Make the call. You know you want to. All it would take is one word to Carlisle, and you could have Noah at your mercy in less than an hour.
I take a few more sips of my drink and mull over my options.
The door creaks open, and London appears in the doorway. Music spills in behind her as my frustration rises.
She will never forgive you if you do anything to him.
She stops a few feet away from the desk. Then, she pushes her hair out of her face and looks at me.
Maybe if you make it so London doesn’t find out.
I shove the thought away and set my glass down with a little more force than necessary. “Shouldn’t you be making sure Noah’s okay?”
London exhales. “He’ll be fine. He shouldn’t have pushed you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you telling me what you think I want to hear?”
“Would it help?”
I stare at her and say nothing.
Slowly, I down the rest of my drink, my eyes never leaving her face. Once it’s done, I stride past her and toward the door. In one quick move, the lock clicks into place, and I wheel around to face London.
The whole thing feels a little too familiar, but I don’t care.
“I am not going anywhere,” London continues, in a smaller voice. She takes an uncertain step in my direction and lets her hands fall to her sides. “No one is taking me away. When are you going to understand and accept the fact I am not leaving you?”
“Not yet.”
“Not ever,” London counters, her eyes flashing momentarily before she exhales. “I don’t know what I can do to make you believe me.”
I stare at her and say nothing.
“I know things have been hard, and I know there’s a lot going on….”
“Yes.”
London takes another step in my direction, her eyes never leaving my face.
“What’s your point?” I ask.
She covers the distance between us and reaches for my hand. “My point is you can trust me. We’re in this together.”
I glance down at our hands and back up at her face. “I want to.”
She wraps her arms around me and exhales. “You can.”
For a long moment, I hold her against me, terrified of doing anything else.
She feels solid and warm and far more real than anything else in my life, and I don’t like how it makes me feel.
I hate feeling weak and like at any moment she can be ripped away, and I’ll be left exposed, laid bare for the world to see.
