Her throat works, ink rolling as she composes her next words. “It’s really hard to work out where I stand with you, Fang.” Fingers tangled before her, Jenna avoids looking at me as she speaks. “I can’t tell if you hate me or if you sympathize with me. If you want to help.”
“Neither.”
My answer confuses her more.
“You lie,” I explain. “You withhold important information that you know could help others purely to help yourself. You change your tune about what you want to do every day—do you stay in the chase, or do you break away and start again? You separate yourself from the others, and you seem hellbent on not needing anyone’s help when all people have done is show you that they’re willing to be a sounding board for your problems.” Her chin quivers, nostrils flaring. “And yet you’re also the most selfless person I’ve met in a long while.” I pause to gather mygalloping thoughts, aware her gaze softens on me—intrigued. “You keep yourself in harm’s way with the sole thought of helping other people to avoid going through the same trauma you did. You check on Kathy, on Darla, and The Kid, always wanting to make sure they’re okay. You got yourself involved in this fucking ludicrous plan of your father’s to avoid seeing him bear the consequences of an unpaid loan from the Devil’s Breed. A man, by the way,” I stress, “who has done nothing for you in return. You confuse the fuck out of me, Jenna. I don’t know whether I hate you or admire you or want to protect you,” I admit. “All I know is I’d hate it if you left and I never knew what happened to you after; where you went. Whatever you decide to do when this is all said and done, I want to help you do it.”
“Even though I’m a liar,” she weakly bites.
“Do you honestly believe I’ve been one hundred percent truthful with you?”
She ponders the idea for a moment before a slight smile tugs at her lips, pink from her worrying teeth. “I’m glad you haven’t been.” She smirks, huffing a small laugh out her button nose. “You want to know God’s honest truth?”
I lift my chin to urge her to go on.
“I’m scared, Fang.” Soulful eyes lift to mine. “I’m fucking terrified of what does come next. Nobody wants me here, but I also don’t want to be anywhere else. I’m stuck, just…” She winds her hands, searching for the right words. “Frozen, I guess.” Jenna shrugs. “Frozen solid in stasis here, doing what I’m told and fucking petrified that if I make a definitive decision for myself, I’m gonna get it wrong.”
She lifts her head, a sharp inhale passing her lips when I step closer.
“I’m fucking terrified too,” I admit, the truth both setting off warning bells in my mind for taking my vulnerability too farandproviding relief. “Difference is, I’m fucking terrified of where Iam now. Scared that’s all it’ll ever be. This goddamn groundhog day of disappointment and hopelessness for change.” My throat constricts, heat pooling behind my eyes. I clear my throat and sling my elbows wide, hands laced behind my neck. “Take from that what you will,” I mutter. “Just didn’t want you to think you were the only one who feels like they’re lost.”
Her soft gaze threatens to shred what little composure I have left. “I knew I wasn’t the only one.” Jenna almost looks proud of me.The fuck?“I’m grateful you shared that with me, Fang.”
“Yeah, well, don’t expect too much more like it.”
I don’t look at her. Don’t wait around to hear what she has to say next.
I book it from that room like the fucking pussy I am, heaving deep breaths as I aimlessly head for the front door.
Fuck Chaos.He has an uncanny way of reading into these things before you’ve had a chance to unravel them yourself.
Being more vulnerabledoeswork.
And Iammy own worst enemy.
Otherwise I would have done what I wanted in that kitchen instead of bolting for the yard. I would have admitted that what’s right for us doesn’t always come at the most convenient time, and what’s good for us doesn’t always appear that way.
I would have eliminated any doubt in Jenna’s mind about how I feel about her.
And I would have kissed that woman like she needed me to.
LikeIneeded to.
THIRTY-FIVE
JENNA
I learnedsomething about Fang during our interaction: it was never me who was the issue. In every instance where he’s avoided me, it was never about what I’d done; it was about how he feels. He isolates himself when shit gets too real, just as he has for the past twenty-four hours. Sure, I saw him when we all sat down to eat last night, but the man spared me a vague stare and bundled Molly up to eat in another room. I heard his voice as he prepped his daughter for bed. Saw him outside in conversation with Darko.
And I felt his eyes on me in the dark when he hesitated in the doorway after we’d all turned in, checking on those of us still sleeping in the parlor before his boots slowly carried him up the stairs.
He wants to protect me. At least, he thinks he might.
He thinks I’m selfless.
That I’m a good person despite my constant mistakes.
I lift the semi-warm mug of coffee to my lips and pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders. Sleep was a bitch last night—hard floor, thin cushions, and Darla softly snoring. Pretty sure she’s getting a head cold. The Kid didn’t seem too bothered,curled closest to the fire. One of the prospects dragged a steel fire-guard in from outside, brushed it off, and placed it on the brick hearth. I think Dolly might have said something when she saw The Kid’s bedding folded to one side.
