“We’re not injured. I need you to secure that rifle in the armory,” I tell him. “And then I need to get her home.”
“I’m sorry,” she says again, but I simply kiss her temple. “Gideon got shot, and there was so much blood, and it was all my fault—”
“Shh.” I shake my head when Ry’s face falls. “Itwasn’tyour fault, Lena.”
“I justhadto go to that exhibit. I begged you to go until you finally gave in, and it could have killed you.”
Ryker isn’t supposed to be privy to this information, but fuck it. He’s my brother.
Framing her face, I make her look me in the eye.
“Listen to me right now. It was arandommass shooting. They didn’t know who you were. It had nothing at all to do with you, Lena. We were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it’s as simple as that.”
“It’s not simple.” She shakes her head slowly. “It was the worst night of my life, and I regret it so much.”
“Baby, you just wanted to look at pretty art. There’s nothing wrong with that. You didn’t lure me into an active war zone.”
“Fuck,” Ryker whispers, dragging his hand down his face.
“I can’t get the image of you lying in that wet alley, bleeding, out of my head. Ican’t.” She breaks down again, and I finally stand with her in my arms as Ryker grabs the weapon and secures it in the armory for me, then locks it and the range up behind us as we climb into the back seat of his truck.
The tears calm a bit as we get closer to the house, but Ryker keeps checking us in the rearview mirror, his brows pulled together in concern.
“What can we do?” he asks when he parks by the house.
“I have her,” I reply as I open my door. “Thanks for the help, brother.”
“I’ll have Willow make extra for dinner. Come over later.”
I nod, and then pat him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
After stepping out of the truck, I lean in and take Lena’s hand, helping her out of the truck, and then lead her inside. I don’t like how pale she still is, or how flat her gorgeous lavender eyes are. She’s always full of life, full of fire.
“What do you need, baby?” I ask her.
“Can we just snuggle on the couch?”
With a small grin, I lead her through to the sofa and take a seat, and she curls up next to me, resting her head on my shoulder and linking her fingers with mine.
“I need you to talk to me.” I take a deep breath and kiss her head. “Reallytalk to me. I know that we were both there that night, but I think there are some holes for both of us that need to be filled in.”
Her deep breath is shaky, but she sits up and faces me, sitting crisscross, her legs pressed up against my thigh. She won’t let go of my hand. It’s like if she stops touching me, I’ll disappear.
Again.
“I should have listened to you and Richie when you said that it wasn’t safe for us to go to the museum at the last minute. I was being selfish, and you know how I hated having a security detail in the first place.”
“First of all, you were not being selfish, Lena,” I reply, frowning over at her. “I know you didn’t like the security, and you tried to rebel against it, but you never saidwhy.”
She rubs her lips together, thinking about it.
“I was seventeen when Mom was elected. I’d always struggled to fit in because teenagerhood is horrible, and suddenly having big, mean-looking guys following me around in high school made mesodifferent. I’ve never been the person with a ton of friends. And that’s okay with me, because I’m pretty introverted, but no teenager likes to feel different.”
Been there, done that.“I can understand that. I was a foster kid with a murderer for a father. I know what it’s like to be different.”
She rubs her hand down my cheek, and I press a kiss to her palm. “I wasn’t really the rebellious one, you know. That was Chelsea.Shewas my friend, and she knew that the constant security drove me bananas, so she encouraged me to try to escape. We made it a game.”
“She’s a shit influence. She’s also a shit friend, Lena. I wish you could see that.”
