“Of course I do, you fool. Which is why I want to know what’s going on with you.”
“You’re going to make a big deal out of it, like Corbin does. He thinks it means I’m thinking like Keegan, but it’s not that at all.”
“What is it, then?” Maeve traced the cut across my skin, running her fingers over the layers of parallel scars.
She loves me. She loves me.
Maybe if she loves me she’ll understand.
My chest fluttered with hope.
No, this is stupid.I stared down at my arm. The scars dominated my vision, moving in and out of focus. Looking at them in the light made my stomach squirm. I wanted to turn away, but I didn’t want Maeve to think I was weak, that I was ashamed.
Maybe she’ll understand. This is who I am. I’m not ashamed. This is a completely normal thing lots of people do.
“Sometimes when I get upset or angry, I’ll make a little cut on my skin,” I mumble. “The blood reminds me that I’m in control over myself and my body.”
Maeve’s fingers squeezed my skin. “Oh, Arthur.”
“It’s not a big deal. It’s not a suicide attempt. They’re just surface cuts. It’s a little nick to remind me that I’m real.”
It sounded so stupid when I said it out loud.
Maeve shook her head. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
“Why did you come out here today to swing your sword around? You don’t feel in control of the situation with Kelly. So you came out here to assert some control. It’s the same thing.”
Maeve rubbed her neck. “Yeah, but when I got hurt, it wasn’t fun anymore.”
I looked up then, into her eyes. They widened into shimmering pools of mottled blue-green, shining with hope and desperation and love…A lump rose in my throat.
She’s looking atme, right inside me. She seesme.
“Most of your scars are old.” Her words came out in a whisper as she brushed her hand over my cuts again. “You haven’t cut yourself in a long time. But those two cuts are recent. Why?”
“I did one when I found out about you and the other guys. I wanted to join in, but I couldn’t. I did the other one after the church.”
“Why?”
“Because all those people died, and I couldn’t save them.” I slid my arm out of her grip and rested my hand on the hilt of my sword. “I failed, and that failure was impacting my ability to protect you, to be what you needed. One small cut, and that feeling went away.”
“So this is me?” Maeve’s eyes swam with sadness. Her gaze make my stomach queasy. “I’m making you feel like this?”
“No.” I clamped a hand around her arm. “That’s not it at all. It’s just a thing I do. It’sreallynot a big deal. I’ve never hurt myself.”
“Yet.” Tears sprung in the corners of her eyes, all that emotion spilling down her cheeks.
I knew what was going on here. I’d been with her in Arizona when she had to sit with Kelly in the hospital after her suicide attempt. She was thinking exactly like Corbin did, that this was me crying out for help. She thought she needed to save me, when really it was the other way around.
“Hey, hey.” I wiped the pink streak of hair off her forehead. My chest felt heavy, like some bastard was standing on it in heavy Docs. “Don’t be upset. I’m not going to leave you. I’d never dream of leaving you. I just need this sometimes.”
Maeve sniffed. “I don’t like it, Arthur.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to. Maybe when this fae thing is over with, I’ll go talk to a doctor about it.” Unlikely, but if it made her feel better… “Now come on, let’s go back to our drills and forget this whole conversation, aye?”
Maeve glanced over at her wooden sword lying in the grass. She shuddered. “I don’t think I want to practice any more.” She scrambled to her feet. “I think I’ll just go back inside, see if Corbin’s found anything in his books. Bye Arthur.”
“Do you want?—”
