Feeling sick from both the nightmare and what I’d just almost done, I simply stood there, unsure of what else to say to her, or what the fuck I should do. I wasn’t used to this, having someone here with me, being responsible for someone other than myself. And I didn’t like the feeling, or the guilt that caused my stomach to churn.
Dragging a shaking hand through my hair, pushing it back and out of my face, I scanned the room, my eyes landing on one of my many stockpiles of weapons. I turned and headed toward them, then pawed through them until I found several hand blades and a small revolver. Then, just for shits and giggles, I picked up a small ax as well. On my way back to Autumn, I kept my steps slow and purposefully light, hopefully not at all threatening. Even so, when I reappeared in front of her, she flinched.
“Here.” One by one I tossed each weapon on the mattress. “I have nightmares.” My tone was matter of fact, entirely different from what I was feeling. “I don’t sleep much and when I do, I get ... Fuck, I just don’t sleep much. If you hear me shouting, just stay away from me, and if I ever do anything like I just did, you use one of those on me, okay?”
Autumn dragged her gaze away from her lap to glance at the pile of steel I’d just presented her with, and then toward me. Her big gray eyes searched my face for several tense seconds before she eventually nodded sharply. “Okay,” she said.
More than uncomfortable, I scanned the room again, wondering what, if anything, I should do next. I’d apologized, provided her with a hearty supply of weaponry, and given her permission to gut me if I ever touched her again. So, we were good now, right?
Probably not, but whatever. I needed to get the fuck out of this concrete coffin and get some fresh air fast. It had been a long damn time since I’d dreamed of that day, even longer since I’d allowed myself to even think of it, and the emotional consequences of both were damn near suffocating.
Once in the outer room, I grabbed the clothing I’d stripped myself of the night before, dressed hastily and started for the door, not bothering to look back in the bedroom.
When I yanked the door open, I stepped outside and came face-to-face with Jeffers. I covered my shock quickly with disinterest and kicked the door shut behind me.
“I figured you’d be up,” he said, pulling a heavily chewed toothpick from between his lips and tossing it away. Narrowing his eyes, he scrutinized my face.
I shrugged, then turned and began reattaching the locks. “You need something?”
One by one I fastened each lock on the door, clicking them into place. They were all secured when I turned around to face Jeffers again, who still had yet to answer me.
He shoved his hands into his pants pockets and let out a long sigh, but didn’t answer.
“Liv?” I asked. Folding my arms over my chest, I leaned back against the door and turned my face toward the sun. It was going to be hot as hell today, the early morning air already sticky and warm.
“I was going to come last night,” Jeffers finally said, his deep voice full of resignation. “But I needed to think.”
“Jesus Christ, Jeff.” I growled, slamming my head against the metal door before pushing away and pinning him with a hard glare. “Just say whatever the fuck you came here to say. Don’t pussyfoot around with me like you do with her. Just man the fuck up and say it.”
Jeffers’s all-too-familiar blue eyes flashed with anger. “We’ve got rules, Adler. You can’t be breaking them whenever the fuck you feel like it. That girl you have in there, she killed someone and injured someone else. You’ve got to hand her over.”
I snorted. “Or what? What’s going to happen when I don’t? You going to turn this place against me? A place we found together? A place we built together?”
“We?” Jeffers roared, his fist slamming into the door directly beside my head. “When was the last time you did anything for someone other than yourself? When was the last time you gave a shit about anything?”
I opened my mouth, ready to throw his own words back at him, to tell him exactly how I felt about his holier-than-thou speech when it wasn’t him doing jack shit around here, but Liv. He was the motherfucking puppet, and that little psycho was pulling all the damn strings, but I never got the chance.
Jeffers’s fist shot out again, aiming for my midsection, but this time I was ready for him. As big as he was, as strong as he was, he hadn’t been in a fight in years. Grabbing hold of his fist, I used his own force to shove him backward, and he stumbled several feet before tripping. And then I was on him, sending my own fist into his face as I shoved him down and onto his back.
Standing over him, I glared down at him. “You choosenowto come to me!” I shouted. “Now? Over this? You haven’t said more than two fucking words to me in years, and because I broke a couple of useless rules that I helped create, now you want to talk? Fucking now?”
Turning his head to one side, Jeffers spit out a wad of blood-tinged saliva before raising his arm and offering me his hand. “Should’ve never taught you how to punch,” he muttered. “Scrawny little shit, always getting your ass kicked. Never thought someday you’d be besting me in a fight.”
Nostrils flaring, my jaw locked, I shook my head angrily before clasping my hand with his and yanking him upright. “I’m not handing her over,” I told him.
Rubbing his jaw, Jeffers eyed me, shrewdly assessing me. I stared back at him, my muscles bunched, ready to knock him down again if I had to.
“Why?” he finally asked. “I let the shit with the redhead from the wild go. I knew why you went after her, knew what you—”
“Shut up,” I growled as I took a step toward him, bringing us nose to nose.
“Why?” He glared at me. “Just because you can’t say her name doesn’t mean I can’t! I want to remember her; I want to remember all of them! It’s your own damn fault you can’t live with what you fucking did!”
Rage, guilt, and pain washed over me in one fell swoop. Hot and angry, the emotions burned up my veins, turning my blood to nothing more than ash as they raced their way to my heart. Razor-tipped claws speared the muscle, sending white-hot pain shooting through every one of my limbs.
“Walk away,” I gritted out. “Walk away before I hurt you.”
But the man didn’t listen; he never had and he never would. Instead, he closed the remaining inches between us and slapped a hand on either one of my cheeks, taking hold of my face. It was a move I knew well, something my uncle had done to me as a child when he knew I wouldn’t listen otherwise, when he needed me to hear what he had to say.
