My phone slipping through my fingers and falling on the floor with a loud clatter that echoes around the house.
The glass house.
That belongs to his friend, Pete.
Reed glances down at the phone before looking up, “Fae, what —”
“I talked to your dad.”
I hit him with these words. Punch him.
Because he draws back.
For a second, that’s his only response, being pushed back slightly.
Before things happen.
Things like a flash of panic in his wolf eyes. The same one that I saw this morning, which confirms what I already knew after talking to his dad.
That is why Reed was so paranoid, panicked.
Because his father found out about me and Halo.
But the panic is only momentary. It’s replaced by anger.
Great, mighty anger that makes his arms loosen for a second so that paper bag slips out, before tightening up every inch of his body. Every single inch of his muscle, every bone and tendon and vein that I can see tightens up, stands out.
“What?” he spits out, his wolf eyes deadly.
“I… After we came back from Pete’s, I realized what your dream was. I realized that even you didn’t know. Or even if you did, you didn’t think you could have it. What you wanted. So I wanted to give it to you. I wanted you to have it, Roman, your dream. And so I got your dad’s number from Tempest and… and I called him.”
His vampire skin is stark white, leached of all color like his blood has frozen over.
Like there’s a chill inside of him.
That perpetual winter that makes him wear hoodies all the time.
White and pure and pristine hoodies that he loves so much.
“You called my dad,” he repeats in a low voice.
“Yes.”
He takes a step toward me. “After I told you not to.”
I clutch my dress, white, his favorite. “Yes.”
“After I made it clear that I didn’t want you anywhere near him,” he pushes out through clenched teeth, taking another step toward me. “After I made it crystalfuckingclear that you’re not supposed to even think about it. You’re not supposed to interfere.”
I swallow. “You did but I had to.”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because you’re killing yourself by working there. You don’t want to work there. You want something else.” And then, I can’t keep it in any longer, I have to say it to him, I have to beg him not to do it.
So I go to him. I meet him halfway.
I clutch his hoodie. “Don’t do it, Roman. Don’t do what your dad asked you to do. Don’t destroy Pete’s garage. Please.”
