“She never said no, never left, never asked me to leave or stop.I’ll never stop watching her, but I won’t take her free will.”
Atlas studies me, then nods.“Then we won’t stop either Cassius.As long as you want us to keep an eye on her, we will.”
“I know you can watch her, find her, track her every move.Adrian can hack anything I’d ever need, cameras, her bank accounts, medical records, all of it.Caleb, well I’m not sure what the mathematician brings to the table, but he’s good moral support.None of it matters.Unless I’m within arm’s reach, none of you can stop someone from hurting her.And that’s the part I can’t live with.”
“Not to be a dick, but that’s mostly your fault.”
“I don’t regret making the deal I did with Uncle Leven.I would never wish my life on you three.”
Atlas tilts his head.“Not even if it meant we could keep her safe?Like you can?”
“Not even then.”The words are out before I can stop them.But we both know they’re a lie.
“Go home, Cassius.Get a shower.Sleep.”
I glance at the lit window.“If she leaves?—”
“I’ll be on her before she hits the sidewalk.”
I don’t like it.I hate not being the one between her and everything else.But if I’m not sharp, I’m no good to her.
“Don’t take your eyes off her,” I say.
Atlas pops the passenger door and steps out.Cold air slides in, sharp enough to sting.He leans down to the open window, meeting my eyes.“Don’t insult me.”
I grip the steering wheel hard enough for the leather to creak.“Don’t fuck this up.”
Atlas shuts the door and heads toward his own car.I don’t watch him.I keep my gaze on the window until the light clicks off.Only once the apartment is dark do I drive away.
Our house feels like a crime scene.There’s no blood or bodies.But I’d take both over her absence.Over the way her scent is already thinning from the sheets.Over the ghost of her laugh hanging in the corners.
Her coffee cup is still in the sink.The lipstick print faded from the rim.Her hair tie is looped around the stair banister where she must’ve dropped it.There’s a strawberry shampoo bottle in the shower, almost empty.I don’t touch it.
Caleb watches me pace from the kitchen.His arms are crossed, expression unreadable.
“She’s not coming back,” he says.
I stop mid-stride.“She will.”
“You saw her face after the job,” he says, pushing off the doorframe.“She thought she could handle it, but it broke something in her.”
“She’s not broken.”
“She’s not like you, Cassius.”
“You’re right,” I snap.“She’s everything I’m not.That’s why I love her.”
Caleb exhales through his nose, slow and deliberate.He’s trying not to start a fight.“Love doesn’t change reality.Spider’sstill out there.We’re still at war.You think she wants to live in that kind of crossfire?”
“I told her the truth.”
He studies me for a moment, then shakes his head.“You told her you’d keep her safe.You can’t promise that.”
“Iwillkeep her safe.”
His voice sharpens.“From everything?Every enemy?Every bullet?”
We’re toe-to-toe now.My pulse is hammering.“She’ll come back.”
