But I’d chosen. I’d chosen Kreed over myself.
Because I loved him, and there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for the people I loved, even if it hurt them. Even if it broke them? Broke me?
A blanketof darkness enveloped me, pressing against my skin until breathing became a conscious effort. I sat perched on the bed and brushed at my cheek. Most of the tears had dried, leaving theirsaltiness on my skin. My fingers shook slightly as I reached for my phone on the nightstand, betraying the fragile control I was barely maintaining.
The screen glowed through the gloom when I thumbed it awake, blue-white light harsh against my adjusted eyes. I unplugged it carefully from the charging cable and watched the battery indicator blink at the top. One hundred percent. Fully charged. Bright and ready and completely useless against the hollow feeling spreading through my chest.
Kreed slept deeply across the hall where I’d left him. I scrolled through my recent calls and pressed the familiar number. A voice answered on the third ring, low and flat and carefully neutral.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I replied, barely a whisper, doing my best to keep the emotion churning inside from my voice. I didn’t want anyone to hear, and God knew this house had ears. “We need to move up the timeline. Accelerate everything.”
“Why? What’s happened? Did something go wrong?” he asked.
“He’s closing in on us.” The words fell out sharp as glass shards, each one cutting on the way up.
“Are you absolutely sure this is a good idea? Moving this fast?” His concern was palpable. It wasn’t just me I had to think about. “We haven’t had time to prepare properly.”
“No,” I admitted because I desperately needed a slice of honesty to keep myself buoyed above the fear threatening to drown me. “But I need this nightmare to be over. I can’t keep living like this, waiting for him to strike.”
“So do I,” he said quietly. “But it feels like there are too many moving pieces right now. Too many players we can’t control. Too many variables that could go catastrophically wrong.”
“I know,” I agreed, breath shuddering. “Just stick to what we discussed. Don’t deviate. Don’t improvise. The plan works if we follow it exactly.”
“What about Kreed?”
My eyes lifted instinctively to the door again, heart fluttering hard and uneven. “Keeping him alive is what’s important.”
“Toyou,” he said pointedly.
“You promised.”
A long sigh came through the other end. “I know. I’m working on it. But you know that you can’t protect everyone all the time.”
“I’m going to do my absolute damnedest. Does he suspect anything?”
“No, I don’t think so. And you?”
“Same, but truthfully, it’s hard to be sure with them. They always seem to know more than they should. I need to go,” I whispered. “Before someone hears me.”
“Be careful. Please.” The plea was soft but fierce.
“You too.” I ended the call, the screen going dark and leaving me in shadow again. For a long moment, I just sat there, phone clutched in both hands, staring at nothing. Then I carefully plugged it back into the charger, arranged the blankets to look undisturbed, and crept across the hall to where Kreed slept.
I forced myself to unclench, taking a deep breath, but that damn pesky knot of tension remained in my stomach. I listened to rain skitter across the roof again, fat drops hitting shingles in irregular percussion as I tiptoed across the floor. I moved to my side of the bed, noticing Kreed had shifted slightly in my absence, one arm thrown across the pillow where my head had been, searching for me even in sleep. The bandage on his side was still clean, no fresh bleeding.
I slipped back under the covers as quietly as possible, fitting myself carefully against his uninjured side. His arm came around me automatically, pulling me close. The gesture was so instinctive, so protective, it made my throat tight all over again.
“Where did you go?” he huskily murmured thick with sleep.
“Bathroom,” I replied, hating the lie regardless of how small. A lie was a lie. “Sorry I woke you.”
He nuzzled deeper into my hair, inhaling the scent of me. “I’m glad you did.”
God, he is going to ruin me.“Are you in pain?” I asked, hyperaware of his injury.
He tensed for half a second, then melted back into me. “I wouldn’t be,” he rasped, “if you were kissing me.”
