Still, my mind holds on to delusions because I’m unwilling to entertain certain realities. Delusions are safer for everyone. Steadying my breathing, I sink into my denial.
Until a man strolls up to her, dragging her into a hug.
So, this … is a goddamn date.
Or worse … a boyfriend.
Fuck. That.
Sweat beads my hairline as I stuff my dice into my pocket and dial Axel. Why the phone call? Someone needs to get me an alibi because there’s about to be a corpse in my trunk.
“Yeah?” he answers.
At the sound of his voice, all my emotions bubble to the surface—the ire and hurt, loss and pain. The sense of sadness, failure, and betrayal. A jumbled mess.
“Axe?”
“I’m here.” He stalls for a second, cautious. “She’s not there?”
“She is. She’s at a street fair in this shitty little town, walking around with some asshole. I’ve been following her.” I clear my throat, trying to conceal the mental breakdown I’m enduring. “Her hair is shorter. It hits right at her shoulders. And it’slighter. A dark blonde now. She looks … gorgeous. So damn pretty. Healthy. Maybe even happy.”
The image of the last time I saw her flashes before me. Bruised and battered, head to toe. Eyes hollow. So fragile. She ran away from him …from me… and now, she’s whole.
“And that’s …” He trails off before a door clicks shut, and he organizes his thoughts. “How do you feel about that?”
“Fucking confused. Pissed. Happy for her—not for being on a date. The healthy part. Hurt. I don’t want to mess things up for her. Again, date excluded,” I clarify.
“Got it.” He’s undoubtedly smirking, even if I can’t see him.
My fingers curl into a death grip on the steering wheel, as though it were her date’s neck. “Everything in me wants to crash her fucking night out, slit his throat, slap a collar on hers that declares she’s mine, throw her over my shoulder, and haul her ass back home.”
He sighs. “That’s one way to go. But I think we should table that idea and circle back to it after we exhaust plans A through Z.”
A jagged breath blasts out of me. It probably isn’t the best idea for our reunion.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I can do that.”
“Progress,” he commends, and it isn’t sarcastic. “So, is your plan to watch her, or do you intend to actually let her know you’re there?”
“I like watching her,” I admit while fully realizing if I’d announced myself earlier, she wouldn’t be gallivanting around town with that dipshit. “But I have no intention of leaving without her. It’s just … if I get out of this car …”
I don’t finish that thought, but he can fill in the blanks with all the threats I just listed. Maybe I do bulldoze.
“Take a few deep breaths.” His tone is the calm and controlled one he uses when he’s talking one of us off a ledge.“But to add to what I was saying last night, she has no idea things have changed for you. When you show up, she’ll be seeing her best friend.”
“Nah. Mercy is too smart for that. Thefriendship sailed when she disappeared on me. She became someone else, and so did I. But I guess I see where you’re going. I can’t tackle this head-on. I need to get creative, tie her to me.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” he grunts, resigned. “But you sound calmer, so let’s roll with it. There’s a lot she doesn’t know, Ryker. So, regardless of the approach, this is going to be messy. Having a game plan will go a long way. Keep that in mind before you crash her date, and let me know what you need.”
There are shades of truth to everything Axel said. Mercy will still view us as friends. That’s who we always were. When we were young, I tried distancing myself, aware that in my world, innocent people often burned with the evil ones.
Ashes and lies.
The right thing to do was to let Mercy go.
But she didn’t stay away. And I couldn’t tell her no. So, we settled into an unwavering friendship.
For years, it worked. We were us.
