“Shit, Luc.” Someone grumbles.
“Fuck!” An object is thrown across the room, clattering loudly.
I close my door so I don’t have to listen to their not-so-quiet murmuring. It’s far too early to deal with this bullshit.
Part of me thinks I’m being unfair—they’re only trying to protect me.
The other part thinks that they’re being fucking hypocrites.
Hurt and anger at them not trusting me and not knowing if Drake’s safe has me blinking away frustrated tears as festering emotions get the better of me.
I crawl into bed, dragging the blankets up to my chin. I roll to face the wall, giving the door my back. The knife stays clutched in my hand as tears stream down my face.
Everything with Marcus was just icing on the cake, leading me straight down the road to break down mode.
. . .
Jace ~
I see the moment Rory starts stirring.
She cutely scrunches up her nose, her hand tightens briefly around mine.
Her head’s on my shoulder, my arm curled around her. Her hair’s like a waterfall on the pillow from where I’d been running my fingers through it.
Her body’s pressed up against mine. Our fingers interlocked rest on my chest.
I look up at the ceiling as I wait for Rory to wake up. The guys have stayed mostly quiet, letting Rory catch up on sleep. It was a late night doing assignments, Luc and Alec were going over Luc’s testimony for the case and then Drake pulled us all out of bed before dawn.
Rory’s been run down the last few days. I’m not sure if it’s stress or something else but she’s needed the extra hours of sleep.
It didn’t escape my attention when I came in that she’d been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy like she’d cried herself to sleep.
Fuck, what did Drake tell her?
Or was this because of us?
When I crawled into bed, she’d flinched away from me on her sleep. In the time that we’ve been back together, that hasn’t happened before.
Whatever Drake told Rory is serious.
Luc might not like Drake but even he can’t dispute that The Bloodhound seems to care for our Rory. Not in a romantic way, more like siblings or close friends. And Rory seems to care for him just as much. That’s not a surprise though. Rory always finds the best in people.
“J?” Ro mumbles, her eyes still closed. I smile faintly. Not even properly awake and she knows it’s me.
“Hey, sleepy head.” I brush her cheek with my fingers.
“When’d you get here?” Her words muffle as she presses her face into my shirt.
“Pillow talk—I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” I tease. A small smile graces Ro’s face.
“A little while after you must have fallen asleep,” I tell her.
Her smile slowly fades. She shifts, arching her back as she stretches. She grimaces like she’s uncomfortable.
Rory retracts her hand from mine. I smile as she slides her hand up under my shirt, resting it on my chest.
“S-cold,” she slurs. My grin fades. It’s midday—the morning sun warmed the room hours ago. I was just contemplating turning the fan on.
