Holding a gun with perfect, steady hands.
She’s not trembling.
I am.
We stare for one long, electric heartbeat. The adrenaline is leaving my body in a rush, and her icy gray eyes are the only thing keeping me grounded right now. She glares over my shoulder, and I can’t imagine what she’s thinking.
I just know I need to touch her.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, hoping I’m not yelling.
My ears are ringing, my knuckles are burning, and I try not to appear shell-shocked or feral. I can feel how crazed I must look, but I don’t take my gaze off hers.
“No. Not physically,” she answers, shaking her head.
I reach out—not to grab her or drag her in—just offering, curious if she’ll meet us halfway. I’m trying hard to be gentle, but there’s blood on my hands that I don’t want on her.
What I want is to wrap around her and take her home.
But she puts her gun in my hand like a fucking vow.
I don’t want the one thing she had to protect herself with.
I want her.
I pass the gun to Silas without looking back, and hold my hand out to her again.
“Come here,” I implore. But I don’t wait any longer.
I take her hand and pull her from the bathroom. She steps forward, fingers sliding into mine with no fear, like she’s known who we are longer than we thought… And she’s already decided what role we’ll play in her life.
There’s a moment where the four of us exchange glances, and Kieran takes a breath as if he’s about to start this very important conversation right now.
Silas holds his hand up. “Later. Let’s get out of here first, and then we can talk.”
Eris simply nods and tucks her feet into the fuzziest house shoes I’ve ever seen. No questions about what happened to Daniel as we walk past a body-sized hole in the wall and blood smears leading out the splintered wood of her door.
She stays beside me all the way to the car, her fingers laced with mine like she’s anchoring herself to the one thing that feels right.
And for the first time since this whole thing began, I don’t know which one of us is claiming the other.
But Idoknow she’s not slipping away from us now.
Not after this.
Not ever.
Idon’t ask where we’re going.
I don’t care.
Jace drives like a man with nowhere to go but somewhere urgent to be, like every red light is a suggestion. Silas rides shotgun, his jaw ticking rhythmically. Kieran sits beside me in the backseat, watching but not hovering. There’s no pity when he looks at me.
Just… calculated tracking, as if he’s memorizing the way I breathe.
I think we all need an outlet to release the lingering adrenaline from such an epically fucked up night… Though, I can guarantee their night feels fucked up for a totally different reason that mine.
I’ll just agree with their reason until I can estimate how freaked out they’re going to be when I murder Daniel.
