All I can do is let him shine on me and where we end up.
Sex last night was intense. The way he held me, cared for me, then how we came back here and talked until we fell asleep. I can’t remember the last time I got to be with someone and not feel the crushing weight of anxiety on me. We had whole conversations, and it was easy. I barely froze up. I barely second-guessed myself.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt that free. This morning, I’m back to being me again, and it fits like a second skin. The quiet, the awkwardness, those things still infect me. But with Kennedy, I get a break from it all. Like my stress and trauma is put on pause while I gather the energy to deal with it again.
The whole time we’re building the wall, Rooney, Lynx, and Wilde talk about the thief. Foley is still in town after the fight last night, and Wilde keeps trying to link things back to him while Lynx shoots down everywhat-ifscenario. Like the fact that Booker was setting his arm in a cast during the early hours of the morning, so there’s no way Leo would have seen him.
While I don’t like Foley, and he’s definitely capable of theft and many other things, I also don’t think he’s behind it. The Dale has money, and they’re random things for him to steal. Like,sixcarrots? I didn’t even know Lynx paid that close attention, but I’m suddenly very grateful I’ve never tried to take food without asking.
All I know is that literally any of us better find this guy before Lynx does—given the way he’s detailing all the many ways he has to torture the man.
“And if he laid so much as a finger on Leo, I’ll pry every one of his fingernails from his hand before taking the digits bit by bit.”
“If he touched any of the kids,” Wilde tells Lynx, “I’ll help you.”
At least that’s something we can all agree on. The kids growing up here have a whole community to protect them, and it’s one of the ways I know that while Lynx might be …different, he’s not evil. Because he adores the shit of the kids, and they all love him back.
I shuffle closer to him, away from Wilde and Rooney, and clear my throat.
He sighs. “What?”
“Do you know what love is?”
My question makes him pause and throw a disgusted look my way. “Love? It’s fucking useless.”
Useless?
“Yes. Useless. It makes you pathetic and weak. Like prey. The second you fall in love, you’re done for.”
“But … there are other types of love … aren’t there?”
Some of the irritation leaves his face.
“Like … you love Leo.”
His teeth clash together. “That little ankle-biter. He needs better self-preservation skills.”
I give him a look to cut the shit.
“But he’s a baby Wender, so he’smybaby. And I’ll slaughter anyone who comes near my cubs.”
“Then … maybe love is … strength? As well?”
“Strength.” He scoffs and drills the final piece of the wall into place. “Fun. Kindness. Protection. A reason to keep living.”
Wilde and Rooney join us, and it takes Lynx a moment to notice them.
He glances over his shoulder at the three of us, and his whole face darkens into a leer. “It’s also a reason to kill. You tell anyone I said all that, and you’ll be sleeping with one eye open.”
Done with the drill, he tosses it onto the floor and leaves. Bob joins him when he crosses the threshold of my place, and I watch them disappear into the trees.
“Ziggy,” Rooney says from behind me. “Why are you asking about love?”
And it’s times like these I’m grateful that they don’t expect a response.
Because who would have thought Lynx would be the one to give me my answer?
Love is something different for all of us.
