“Night.”
“Night.”
“Night.”
“Night.”
“Night…”
“Night…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BAD AUGUST
WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE
Okay, so I’m not good at breakups.
And it’s not like he’s my boyfriend anyway.
Boyfriend.
What a small word that is to describe what he is to me. Someone who understands my every thought and feeling by instinct. Someone who has solidarity of pain and heartbreak, who knows when to say something, when toneversay something. Someone who reminds me of the person I used to be, years ago. Back when I was hopeful, when I thought I might make something of myself, be someone important in this world. He’s a man who sees the aching beauty of the universe even now, after everything he’s been through…
He’s really sexy too. Christ, the way he made me come without even touching myself last night. The sounds of his orgasm, the thought of him doing that…
August is a comfort I crave, in every meaning of the word. I cannot get enough of him.
And now I’m on my way to break up with him. Properly. Whatever you want to call it. On my way to put an end to the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
I know August’s not in danger—not directly. My killer’s after me and me alone. He’s here to try to undo the same mess I’m trying to undo, just in a bloodier way. But August could get caught in the crossfire, like he almost did last night. And I can’t allow that to happen.
Then there’s Shashi’s threat hanging over me. I want to go see her to figure out how she knows so much, but I have no idea how to get in touch with her without asking August. And August…
We’re through.
I’ll let him down as gently as possible, break my heart in the process, and call it a day. I think the easiest way, naturally, is to lie. Tell him, it was nice knowing you, thanks for turning my life upside down, sorry I did the same to yours, and I’m off to another universe now.
So long, and thanks for all the coffee.
His work is probably the worst place to do this. But I don’t think it’s smart to go by his house, drop that on him, and leave him there by himself. He’s got an appointment after work, so if I can just time it right, I’ll make the break, we’ll part ways, and he’ll have an hour or two of driving the old lady around to adjust.
I don’t know what I’m even worrying about. It’s not like he thinks I’m the great love of his life or something. Sounds like he’s spent half of the last decade sleeping with groupies in hotels all over the world, so I’m easily replaceable.
That same twinge of jealousy propels me forward a little faster towards his karate school. It’s as though my body imagines I can outrun this twisting, anxious stabbing in my gut. That and the sadness. In another lifetime, what might August and I have been to one another?
What other lifetime?
If only I could find the right one…
His workplace is upon me the second I turn the corner. It’s floor-to-ceiling glass, like a regular gym, and August’s the first person I lay eyes on. I skitter back around the corner so I can peek out at him like a proper stalker.
He looks handsome in his uniform. It’s black, which looks great with his complexion. His belt’s black too, and I guess I hadn’t thought about that too much, but it adds a layer to my understanding of him. And his general hotness.
He’s demonstrating some move to the class, and the August I saw last night, tipsy, dancing in that tight shirt, soft and pliable, is the polar opposite of this man. His movements are sharp, his fists large and strong and also kind of scary.
More hotness.
