“What’s true?” I asked softly, careful not to break the fragile thread of her thoughts.
Her green eyes had darkened, their light dimmed by the weight of tears clinging to her lashes. “Everything!” she choked out, those tears spilling over. “And she’s just been suffering, alone while everyone called her crazy.”
“Violet…”
“The doctors diagnosed her with all these conditions,” Violet whispered, voice trembling, “but… what if she was just scared?” She looked at me then, eyes wide and unguarded, her vulnerability laid bare.
And I had no idea what the hell to do with it.
Jesus Christ.
“Hey, look at me…” I said gently, trying to figure out what to say.
“I didn’t believe her,” she whispered. “All this time, I never believed her.”
“Violet.” My tone came out sharper than I intended, and I caught her jaw between my fingers, forcing her to face me. “Lookat me.”
She blinked, her gaze colliding with mine. Steady, and calm, while hers churned like a storm tearing through the forest.
“Your mumiscrazy,” I said flatly.
She pushed weakly against me, but I only tightened my hold, my other hand sliding up to cup her jaw, anchoring her in place.
“That doesn’t mean everything she said was nonsense. You did what you could for her. More than most would. But the truth is, no one, not even her, fully understands her own mind.”
“How do you know that?” she cried.
“I don’t,” I admitted quietly. “But I do know a thing or two about mothers who live in their own world… and who make their children carry the weight of it.”
Violet’s lips parted, and before I could stop myself, my thumb traced the velvet softness of her mouth. The simple touch rattled me. Gentleness wasn’t my habit, not even when initiating sex, and yet with her it came too easily. Almost naturally, which was a worrying thought.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I murmured, trying to steady her. “I?—”
“Violet?”
I flinched, so wrapped up in her emotional storm that I hadn’t noticed that bloody lizard-girl slithering in behind us.
What was wrong with me? I was usually much more observant of my surroundings.
“Get the fuck away from her!” she snapped, shoving me back with surprising force. A short woman, five foot nothing at best, jabbed a finger at my face. “Violet, run! I’ll keep him here.”
I arched a brow. “Will you, now? And how exactly do you plan to manage that?”
Christ.She weighed about as much as one of my thighs. Nothing on her, no muscle or curves, none of Violet’s soft legs or an arse you could actually hold. And yet here she was, squaring up to me like she thought she had a chance.
I had to resist the urge to flick her aside like an annoying insect. Probably for the best. Something told me roughing up Violet’s friend wasn’t the fastest way into her good graces.
Plan A and all that.
“Bug, he’s fine,” Violet finally said, having regained some composure. Her face still looked like shit, all puffy and wet from her meltdown.
“Seriously, go. I’ve got this!” Bug shoved me again, and I bit back a snarl.
Don’t hit her back. Don’t hit her back.
Violet stepped between us, turning so she faced her friend.
“Vi, what’s going on?” Bug demanded, still glaring at me like I was the devil come to drag her friend straight to hell.
