Jake goes rigid, expression slamming shut so fast I can practically feel the air shift.
“Look,” I try again, carefully, “I know I don’t have the right to pry.I just want you to know if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here.”
“Did Nate put you up to this?”His voice has a cold edge now.
“Nate?”I blink.“No, Jake—what?—?”
“Just stop, okay.”He shakes his head.
“Jake, I don’t?—”
“People don’t understand the bigger picture,” he snaps, frustration simmering.“I just wish people would trust I know what I’m doing.”
“I’m not judging you,” I say softly.“Sometimes it just helps to talk to someone who isn’t?—”
“It’s not complicated,” he cuts in, leaning forward.“I’m doing what I need to do.So just leave it alone already.”
“Jake—”
“You want to know your problem?”His voice is sharp now, but not steady.“You always think you understand everything.But you don’t.”
The words sting.
Not because they’re fair—because they aren’t—but because I know he’s bleeding from a place I can’t reach.
For a second all I can do is breathe around the ache.
I reach into my bag and pull out the worn copy ofThe Chronicles of Narnia.I set it on the table between us and he just stares at it.Something shifts—recognition, grief, maybe both.
“You know what I loved about these books?”My voice is soft, tight.“It wasn't the magic.It was how people found their way back to each other.Even after they’d lost themselves.”
I stand, sling my bag over my shoulder, but before I move toward the door.I pause—not turning back, just letting the words find him.
“You don’t have to let me in, Jake.But I’m not your enemy.”
I don’t look back, instead I walk towards the door and into the sunlight, hearing the familiar bell chime.
Walking down the street, I realize something I wish I’d learned sooner: you can’t pull someone out of a darkness they’ve chosen.
You can only stand at the edge with a light and hope someday they move toward it.
CHAPTER20
THE MOST DANGEROUS DRUG
NATE
The wrench slips,screeching off the exhaust manifold — a sharp metal-on-metal scream that drills straight into my skull.
“Fuck.”
Pain bites into my knuckles.I shake out my hand, jaw tight, blood buzzing ugly under my skin.The Mustang stares back at me, hood up like it’s fucking smirking — one more thing I can’t fix.
My phone buzzes against the concrete floor where I left it.Nick's name flashes across the screen.
"Yeah?"I answer, not bothering to wipe the grease off my fingers first.
"They suspended Danny."Nick's voice comes through tight, clipped.
