The only one I was worried about protecting was Reid.
The next few weeks passed in almost complete darkness, with just a few brief moments of light piercing it.
All of them involved Reid.
The brightest was when I caught him laughing at some show he was watching on his laptop. I had no idea how he was able to concentrate on it, given he also had his TV on and his Switch in his hands, but that was standard for him.
Even with a third of a mile and a wall between us, I could hear it perfectly. It was as wonderful as I remembered it being when I’d heard it in the bathroom when he’d inadvertently discovered my fear of spiders.
It didn’t last long enough, fading away almost as suddenly as it had begun. As the same darkness that was cloaking me reached its claws out and dragged Reid deeper into its depths.
I hated it. I fucking hated that Reid’s light was dimming with each passing day. I hated that he only left his house to go to work. That he hadn’t seen his friends in months now. That he refused to let any of us sit with him—even Logan.
Reid was isolating himself. I understood why—it was fear. Thanks to Finn and Chester, he knew about the wardeclaration hanging over the McCarthys. He knew his clan wasn’t backing off.
And he knew what an easy target he presented.
Well, what hethoughtwas an easy target. Given anyone trying to get to him would have to go through me first, he was anything but. On the rare occasions I allowed others to guard him, I never ventured far. I’d return home just long enough to shower and eat, before lurking within earshot of whoever was on duty.
The point was that Reidwasn’tan easy target. But it was one thing to know that, and another to believe it.
And, as much as I hated it, I did understand his logic of keeping his distance from his friends. The Clarksons had already proven that they were capable of using those people loved against them with Chester and Finn.
Reid didn’t want his friends in danger.
Given it was exactly how I felt about him, I got it.
The isolation wasn’t all that was scaring me about Reid. It was how the darkness was claiming each part of his life, one after another.
He wasn’t eating proper meals, relying on snacks or straight up skipping meals. He wasn’t sleeping more than a few hours a night, even if he had to be up for work the next morning. Dark bags had taken up permanent residence below his eyes. His cheekbones, which had always been sharp, were starkly prominent now. The jeans that had once tightly cupped his luscious cheeks sagged loosely, slipping down his hips as he walked.
Night after night, I watched from the woods, helpless, as he’d sit up until three, four, sometimes even five in the morning. It didn’t seem like he wanted to be awake, either. Most of the time he’d snuggle under a blanket, barely paying attention to whatever was on the screen.
I didn’t judge him for his behaviour. Hell, I was guilty of doing the same things. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept more than an hour at a time. I only ate a full meal if Ma shoved me into a seat at her table and refused to let me leave until my plate was clear. As for spending time with my friends or doing anything I enjoyed? That simply didn’t happen.
My sole purpose was guarding Reid. Apparently that went hand in hand with worrying about him.
And fuck, was I worried.
It was one thing for me to allow the crushing darkness to envelop me. My body would recover. Shifters could last months on little food or sleep.
But Reid wasn’t a shifter.
I hated that he wasn’t sleeping. I hated that he wasn’t eating properly. I hated that he was isolating himself.
Most of all though, I hated how unhappy Reid was. It wasn’t him at all. Reid was an older version of the spirited, happy child I’d once known. He didn’t show me that side of him, but that didn’t mean I didn’t witness it. His laughter and joy that night in the club with his friends. How he’d danced and sung with Logan. The gentle teasing he gave Chester in work. The chatty phone calls he shared with Bryce and Mac.
Since learning of Clyde’s death, all of that happiness seemed to have leached away, and I wasn’t even sure if it was grief.
I thought it was fear. Fear that his past was haunting him. That it might lead to others getting hurt because of him. It had to be. It would explain why Reid was distancing himself from everyone and barely leaving his flat.
I couldn’t stand it.
I’d tried to help. I’d had takeaway anonymouslydelivered to him on more than one occasion, only for Reid to sniff at it and leave it on the side. I’d called Logan when Reid cried until three in the morning, asking him to go and offer the comfort he’d reject from me. I hadn’t expected him to reject it from Logan too. He hadn’t even got off the sofa, yelling from there for Logan to leave him alone.
He wasn’t opening up to Chester either. Finn’s mate was as worried about Reid as I was.
Neither of us knew how to reach him.
