She devoured a quarter of the huge pizza Jace ordered and drank two glasses of bourbon before her eyes began to droop.
Which means I still don’t have any fucking answers—though, at least she’s fed and resting.
And in danger.
From my life?
Or hers?
I hate you.
I’m just…sorry.
As opposite as those sentences are, I know she meant both of them.
Without my shoulder to lean against, she starts to slump. I catch her and Jace helps me tuck a pillow under her head. I snag a blanket from the back of the couch, wrap it around her, then follow him down the hall and out the front door.
He crosses his arms. “You going to fix this?”
“IthoughtI fixed it before.”
“You know whatIthought of that decision,” he mutters.
“Yeah.” He made it pretty fucking clear I was making the worst mistake of my life.
And considering what remains of the woman I once loved, the woman who ate tonight like she hasn’t had enough food for five years, then fell asleep like she’s been hovering on the brink of exhaustion that entire time, I know, without a doubt, that he’s not wrong.
“She really hit you hard enough to give you that?” A nod at my cut temple.
“Sort of. I slipped and hit my head on the desk after she kicked me in the junk hard enough to almost make me pass out.”
His brows fly up. “That’s not the Briar I know.”
“I’m not sure the Briar we know exists any longer.”
He sighs. “Fuck, man. This is a mess.”
I don’t say anything.
Because what the fuckcanI say?
“You want me to look into the files she stole?”
“Nah. I already know what it was she took.”
His brows fly up. “Corporate espionage?”
“No, they were personal.”
“Howpersonal?”
“About as fucking personal as it can get.” My temple throbs and I reach up, barely catching myself before I rub at the still-healing cut there. “My dad’s journal.”
He curses.
“Yeah. He left it to me in the will and I read all of ten pages before I shut it in the safe.”
“That was enough?”
