Chapter Twenty-One
James
“What?!” The question comes as a sharp demand, and my hand slams on the kitchen table. Benny winces and subtly takes a step back. Theo lets out a low laugh, and I glare at him. “Why the fuck are you laughing?”
“Because I fear Benny is about to learn the reason for the phrase ‘Don’t shoot the messenger.’”
“I’m not going to shoot him.”
“No? Because you’ve got basilisk eyes right now.”
Confusion drains any anger from my voice. “What?”
“Ya know, the big snake with the murder stare.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“Jesus Christ,” Theo groans. “Sadie has been calling you Weasley for weeks and you still haven’t watched those movies?”
“Sorry I don’t remember every fucking detail about a children’s book.”
“That’s, like, the main plot of the second one, though,” Benny says. When I turn my apparently snake-like glare at him, he holds his palms out and mutters an apology.
“Why the fuck has everyone seen these movies?”
“I’ve just read the books,” Benny says. Then, “Right, sorry. I’ll shut up and go.”
“Wait not yet,” I say, giving a heavy sigh and rubbing my hand down my beard. “Tell me exactly what you saw.”
He does. And with every word, heat fills my blood until I swear I’ll give myself a fever.
Theo’s own face grows more serious as he paces the dining room.
Before he can pull me into a discussion, I stalk outside and jump onto my bike.
The tires squeal as I take off, making the journey in record time.
The bell above the door jingles. A young woman at the front of the plant shop gives a chipper greeting that falls flat when she sees the look on my face.
“Where is she?”
“I… uh. What?”
I shake my head. “Never mind.” Ignoring her protests, I head to the office in the back, shouting, “Sadie Oliver!”
“What the fu—James?” She’s halfway to the door when I push it open and she freezes. She’s wearing her darker, square glasses that always seem to make her mesmerizing hazel eyes look slightly bigger. Upon landing on me, those eyes widen with surprise and a hint of fear that I know I’ll regret later.
“You met him again?”
“What?”
“Last night! Benny saw you talking to Bowie at that bakery. Are you still dating that asshole?”
The blush in her cheeks does nothing but stoke the flames of anger. “It wasn’t a date.”
“Then what was it?”
“I just ran into him and… You know what? Fuck you! I don’t owe you an explanation for anything. We’re not partners anymore, remember?”
“Only because you were supposed to stay out of it! So you could be safe!”
“I’m never going to be out of it!”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because!”
“Because why?”
Her mouth opens, then shuts. Frustration is practically painted on her face. Finally, she yells, “Because I choose this!”
“You choose this? You choose to date a gang leader with endless blood on his hands? You choose to be in constant danger?”
“I choose my best friend! I choose to protect my new friends in the Saints. I choose to not sit back and let some asshole man do whatever he wants with no consequences! Not this time. Not again.” The last two words are much quieter than the rest, like she lost steam.
There’s a shine in her eyes that makes me want to murder someone, even if that someone is myself.
“Again?”
Her shoulders fall. She nods and wipes away the tear sliding down her cheek. “My boyfriend. My fiancé. My best friend. I let all of them take advantage of me.”
“Wait… your best friend?”
“Not June, dumbass. My high school best friend.”
“What did they do?” My voice is dangerously low, my anger finding new targets to focus on.
She scoffs. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“The growly ‘who did this to you’ alphahole thing.”
I nearly smile at the memory of showing up at her apartment to see a red mark on her face where she’d clearly been hit.
At the time, the idea of finding any humor in that experience was beyond ridiculous.
Now, I can’t help the soft amusement when I think of Sadie babbling about John Wick and that random vampire movie.
“Are you going to give me a name this time?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Why don’t you let me decide if it matters or not?”
“Because it’s not your life. It’s mine.”
“Well, clearly you can’t be trusted with it, if you insist on putting it in harm’s way.”
A harsh, guttural noise escapes her as frustration boils over. For some reason, the sound sends the heat in my body south. I shift, cursing my body for reacting so inappropriately at the wrong times.
“Well, congrats. You got your wish. Bowie and I won’t be dating anymore.”
“What happened?”
Her daze drops to the floor. “He did his research.”
“He did… wait, he figured out who you are? What the fuck, Sadie? He could have killed you!”
“Well, he didn’t. I can handle myself.”
“You should have told me!”
“You made it pretty fucking clear last week you don’t want anything to do with me.”
My brain screams to slow down, to think carefully before speaking. But guilt slams into me, shoving the words free. “Only because I didn’t want to lose you!”
She frowns. “You’re going to need to explain your logic there, because rarely does pushing someone out of your life stop you from losing them.”
Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up.
Tuning out the internal warning bell, I step forward. “If I keep getting you involved in dangerous shit, you’re going to get hurt.”
“I told you, I can handle—”
“Yeah, I get that. You’re a badass and you’re smart and you can handle yourself. But you’re still new to this world. Hell, Matthew has been in it for years, but look how that ended! We pissed off the Fivers and now he’s dead. But it’s not just that, Sadie. You’re a fucking… Venus flytrap.”
She blinks. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re an ambush predator. A spider or a lynx.
You sneak up on people with your bright smiles and stupid references and pretty flowers.
Then when they realize all the flowers are poisonous, it’s too fucking late.
You lure people in, and the best part is, I don’t think you even try to!
You don’t realize how dangerous you are, and that’s… that’s dangerous.”
“You know, you keep using that word, but I do not think it means what you think it means.”
Barely containing a bellow of rage, I grip my hair and force a long breath into my lungs before trying again. “I’m undefeated in the ring. I’ve knocked out giants in under ten seconds. I have better aim than ninety percent of the Saints, and I don’t even carry a gun.”
“You’re getting off topic, Lorelai.”
“I’m saying that I rarely feel outmatched.
But the more time I spent with you, the more I felt like a fly who landed on the wrong plant.
Or web, or whatever fucking metaphor you prefer.
But I was the fly, and you were the spider, and every second in your company was making me more and more vulnerable. ”
“Why does this feel insulting?”
“God!” I shout, the frustration overtaking me.
I really should’ve gone to therapy longer.
Maybe I’d be better at communicating. “I couldn’t have you around anymore because you were consuming my thoughts!
And that can only end in one of two ways.
Either something happens to you, or I’m too distracted by you and something happens to someone else because I wasn’t there to protect them.
Either way, I lose someone I care about, and it would be my fault.
I can’t let that happen. Not again. I won’t. ”
“It’s Scottie. She… I’m so sorry.”
My eyes are burning. My hands curl into fists. I think I’m shaking.
“James?”
“She’s gone. They’re both gone.”
If I’d just been there. If I hadn’t been so fucking selfish. If I hadn’t been distracted by her. They’d both still be here.
“I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.”
Dad had the right idea. Getting out of here. Starting over. Of course he had to. He lost his wife, his daughter, and his granddaughter.
And his son was a worthless piece of shit who let it happen. Three goddamn times.
Four times. Matthew makes it four.
“James!”
Something drips from the ceiling. It’s warm as it slides down my face. I look up, expecting to see a leak in the roof. But no. It looks dry.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.”
Someone is touching me. I’m moving. Sitting. My head is against something soft.
Shit. I’m losing it. I need to breathe.
But the air is made up of tiny razor blades. It’s the same air that was in the building when Dad called me that day. It took six tries. Three calls from Theo, then two from Scottie, then one from Dad, until I answered.
Six fucking calls.
Because I was distracted.
By the time I answered, it was too late.
Shiloh was gone.
She was already gone after that first call, I know. But it doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t there when my family needed me. I let myself get distracted, and we lost everything.
Dad lost everything. Again.
Theo lost everything.
My family fell apart.
I watched my dad lose it after Mom left. Then Theo fell apart after Scottie. Hell, even those hours when June was taken I thought I was going to lose him for good.
I’ve already lost too much in life because of my own mistakes. I can’t go through that too. I’m not as strong as Dad and Theo. I wouldn’t survive it.
“It’s okay, James,” she whispers. I feel her slender fingers running through my hair while I lean against her and cry. “I’ve got you.”
Yeah, I think. That’s the fucking problem.