Why won’t you let me? What good can come from pushing away someone who only wants to help you?
And you know you went too far with the dick grab. Even after that, I still want to help you.
And maybe I want to help you even more because of it. I forgot how damn good your hands feel on me.
Please let me help you, Lila. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.
Wow. Reed rapidly traveled through the stages of grief during the time it took me to drive across Tampa. Denial, blinding rage, bargaining, and sadness. Then he added in some horniness. Never made it around to acceptance, though. That’s too bad for him.
Oh well. He’s not my problem anymore.
Still nothing from Silas.
Argh.He’s probably ticked that I took so long to get here. He’d have been furious if I arrived with a federal agent in tow.
Although I might not be great at losing weight, I’m sensational at pissing off men I despise.
Taking pity on the onenotholding my best friend hostage, I type out my reply.
Me:
Reed, if you had left when I asked, you’d be in a better mental place right now. I wouldn’t have been forced to give you the slip. Eventually, you’ll learn that you aren’t entitled to everything you want. Let’s consider tonight a free lesson in disappointment. I’ll have Kenzie call you when I see her next. Goodbye.
Right after I hit send, my phone rings, making my entire body tense.
“Hello, Silas? I’m here like you said.” My words rush out in a voice that’s high-pitched and fraught with anxiety. “Where is she? Where is Kenzie?” I scan the lot frantically, my vision coming up empty.
“Did you come alone like I said?”
“Yes.”
“I see your car. She’ll come to you in a minute. Just wait for her there.”
My chin wobbles. “Thank you.”
With my head on a swivel, I scan the parking lot frantically for any sign of her. My hands go numb from my titanium grip on the steering wheel.
It might be five seconds or five minutes. What is time when you’re waiting to find out if you’re about to be murdered or if you’ve managed to save your friend’s life?
Finally, she emerges from the far end of the parking lot, near the street. A beacon of light in the dark, she staggers toward my car. Her steps falter as if she’s weak or injured.
I throw the car in gear and race to her side, ignoring all the painted lines in the mostly empty lot and driving to her in a straight line. Reaching her in a flash, I leap from the car and hoof toward her.
Unable to take another step, she collapses to the concrete, one arm reaching toward me. “Lila,” she whimpers.
I fall to my knees, my arms surrounding her.
She’s alive. I didn’t lose her too.
This time, I didn’t fail. She didn’t die because of me. History didnotrepeat.
For a long, long time, we cry together.
Tears of relief. Tears of pain. Tears of anguish. Tears of joy. All the tears.
A while later,we’re safely in the car, and I’ve finished recapping the night’s misadventures and why it took so long for me to get to her.
“My brother?” Kenzie rasps, voice cracked. “Ew. Why would you talk to him? You know you can’t trust him.”
