I lean against the wall and press the heels of my palms into my eyes. The worst part isn’t that I lost focus. The worst part is that I know exactly why I did.
In every room that’s ever mattered to me, I’ve had a role. A function. Something I was designed for that made my presence make sense. In my world, I’m the weapon.
But out there, in the real world with Bambi, I don’t know what the fuck I am anymore. She made it clear she doesn’t want my help, but I don’t know what to be if I can’t be of service. Protecting others is the only thing I’ve ever been good at.
The door opens behind me, and Briggs takes a seat on the curb beside me. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one up, and hands it to me before pulling out another and lighting his own.
“He got loose.” He says calmly, blowing out a puff of smoke.
I flick off the ash and snap my head towards him. “What?”
“Mikey. You accidentally loosened his restraints. He got free and tried to make a run for it. I caught him. Barely, but—” He pauses, studying my face. “Where the fuck is your head at?”
On her. On the way she looked at me like I disgusted her.
“This isn’t you.” Briggs continues. “You don’t make mistakes. You don’t lose focus. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” He says, lifting his head to look at the nightsky. “We’ve been best friends since we were kids, asshole. I can tell something’s going on with you.”
I meet his eyes. “It’s handled.”
“Clearly, it’s not.”
He’s right. I know he’s right.
“I’ll take care of it,” I say, taking another inhale.
“How?”
I don’t give him an answer. Partly because I don’t want him getting more involved in this than he already is, and partly because I don’t have one for him.
“Is this about a girl?”
When I don’t answer right away, he exhales sharply and shakes his head. “Jesus, Echo. You’re smarter than this.”
“I know.”
“Then act like it.”
He takes one last puff of his cigarette, stubs it out on the sidewalk, then stands to his full height. “I’ll finish up here. You go home and get your head straight.”
I stay outside for another few minutes, staring at the sky and thinking about what to do next. Then I pull out my phone and open her tracker one last time.
Still home. Still safe.
When it comes to securing her safety, I know exactly what to do. Break hands. Remove threats. End problems. That part is easy. Getting her to accept me? To admit what this really is? That’s something else entirely.
Every instinct I have is telling me to keep pressing. To close the distance. To back her into a corner until she can’t pretend this isn’t happening. And it’s getting harder to fight against those urges.
She got in my head tonight, and because of that, I lostcontrol and nearly fucked everything up. I can’t keep obsessing over her like this, and I’m sick of being at her mercy.
Bambi wants me to stop?Fine. I will.
I’ll step back. I’ll go quiet. And we’ll see how long she keeps wanting to stay “friends” when I’m not there to blur the lines for her anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
