“I shouldn’t have run in the first place. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. All those awful things I said. It was so stupid of me. I just freaked out,” I stammer as fresh tears fill my eyes.
“We are both a mess,” he says before grabbing my face and pulling me in for a brutal kiss. His lips press harshly to mine as the door of the elevator closes us in. We’re so caught up in the kiss that neither of us presses the button for our floor.
“Which is why we need him,” I reply against his lips. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” he replies with anxiety in his voice. “I was an asshole after you left, and I threw him out.”
“Oh no.” I should have known things between them wouldn’t have gone well after I left. It pains me to think of Archer so brokenhearted. “We have to go to him.”
“I know,” he says, “But I don’t know where he is. After my sister talked some sense into me, I went down to his apartment, but he was gone.”
“Oh God.” Something about an emotional and erratic Archer all alone in the city fills me with dread.
“I have his location on my phone,” Julian adds. “But I’m afraid he’s at one of those fights.”
“No,” I whine.
I peek down at Julian’s phone, seeing the location on the outskirts of the city, meaning Julian is probably right. Turning around, I frantically punch the ground floor button on the elevator.
“We have to go to him. We have to stop him, Julian. What if he gets really hurt?”
“I know, I know,” he replies, his tone full of fear. “But I didn’t want to go without you.”
Turning back toward him, I launch myself at him again. Knowing that Julian needs me as part of this eases all that doubt I was feeling earlier. I am so worthy of this love. I deserve it as much as anyone else. And since I deserve it, that means it’s worth fighting for.
Fitting snugly under his chin, I let Julian hold me as we ride down the elevator. I have so much I want to tell him about the talk with my mom, but right now I just need to absorb the relief of this embrace.
Everything feels right, or almost. Once we have Archer, then it will feel right. I won’t be able to fully relax until the three of us are together again.
Rule #37: Sometimes fighting for the ones you love means ambushing an illegal fighting ring.
Julian
Lucien speeds across town, and my knee bounces in theback seat as I stare out the window nervously.
“Still won’t pick up,” Freya says at my side. Her hand is clutched in mine, and I sense the same tension radiating off her that I’m feeling myself.
It’s not that I’m worried Archer could get himself killed out there, but the thought of him being so distraught over me and what I said to him that he’s putting himself back in that dangerous environment nearly killsme. Just the image in my head of him taking a punch makes my stomach turn. I hate myself for the shit I said to him. The way I acted. Protecting myself and, in turn, hurting him.
What I said to Freya was true—we are a mess. The one truly holding us together was him. The one with the darkest demons was the only one brave enough to look us in our eyes and tell us what self-absorbed, ignorant cowards we were being.
And I pushed him away.
“He’ll be fine,” Freya whispers as she clings to my arm.
“Even if he is…why would he take me back?” I mutter sadly while looking out the window.
Freya tugs on my arm. “He will, Julian. You know he will.”
Turning toward her, I stare into her warm brown eyes, admiring the way they twinkle from the city lights through the window. Freya has such a warm heart and so much hope. How did she end up with me? A miserable brat. She deserves the world, and if tonight has taught me anything, it’s that I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure she knows it.
Sliding my hand delicately along her cheek, I pull her face to mine and kiss her forehead, holding my lips to her skin so she feels how sorry I am.
“I don’t want you going in there,” I say, and she pulls away as if I’ve just slapped her.
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m not going with you. We are in this together, Julian.” She squeezes my hand affectionately to get her point across.
“It could be dangerous, baby,” I whisper. “If you get hurt…”
