Chapter Three #3
I cross my arms. “Sayshen… two minutes ago you admitted this whole thing has been weird as hell, and that Talon needs space, which I said I’d give him, and now you want me to apply as your team’s mechanic and go have lunch with your girlfriend and her friends like we’re doing some kind of forced bonding exercise? ”
He exhales, the sound almost a laugh.
“It’s not a bonding exercise,” he says. “It’s practical.”
“Practical,” I repeat, flat.
“Yeah.” He shrugs, but his voice doesn’t waver.
“Look, if this works, it gives you a reason to stay. And it gives you something solid while we figure the rest of this out,” he continues, quieter now.
“Look, I know this is messy. I know it’s awkward and fucking complicated.
Shit, I don’t know what I’m doing, but you’re my sister, Echo. ”
The word hits harder than I expect.
“And sitting in this motel room, alone, isn’t helping anybody,” he adds. “You’re good with bikes, you clearly enjoy working on them, and the team could use you. That part’s simple.”
I huff out a short laugh. “Wow. That’s your pitch?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Fuck off.” he smirks, “It wasn’t a horrible one,”
I drag a hand down my face, thinking.
“I really don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
He tilts his head slightly, studying me again, not challenging this time, just waiting.
“Why not?”
Everything about this is a terrible fucking idea.
Because I’ve been quietly keeping tabs on them for months like some unhinged background character who never meant to get attached, and I know more about their lives than I should.
Not to mention I’ve been flirting with, and, okay, sometimes sexting, Draygon for weeks like I’m not fully aware of how catastrophic that's about to become when he finds out who I am.
Sayshen reads the silence on my face like he’s used to waiting people out.
“You don’t have to decide today,” he says evenly. “I’m just telling you it’s there.”
I swallow. “Okay.”
He nods once. His eyes flick to the guitar on the bed.
“You play.”
“Yeah.”
“Sing too?”
My stomach twists. “Sometimes.”
He doesn’t push. Just nods like it’s another piece of information filed away.
The quiet between us settles into something less tense. Still awkward and new, but not hostile.
I pick up the coffee from the tray and take a sip. It’s strong. Real coffee, not gas station sludge. It warms my chest in a way that makes me want to cry and punch something at the same time.
Sayshen pushes off the desk. “Text Bexley,” he says. “And seriously, go to lunch. It could be fun, you know.”
“I’m not not sure I’m up for the whole “fun” thing today,” I mutter.
“I get that, but honestly, you’ve already been here for weeks, if you’re not waiting for an invite into our lives, why are you still here? It’s now for never,”
He heads for the door, pauses with his hand on the knob, then looks back. “And Echo?”
“Yeah?”
His expression goes serious—steady, and grounded. “I know shit is fucked up right now, but you did the right thing, coming here.”
My chest tightens.
I want to argue. I want to tell him he’s wrong. I want to say Talon made it pretty clear I’m not wanted here.
Instead I just nod, because my voice feels completely unreliable.
He leaves, and the door clicks shut behind him.
The motel room is quiet again, but the silence feels so much different now—less like isolation, more like… a pause.
A breath.
I sit back down on the bed, and pick up my phone. I open it to Bexley’s contact info while taking another sip of the coffee. It's all so overwhelming.
Bexley.
The girls.
A lunch invitation that should feel casual, fun even, instead feels like stepping into a world I’ve been circling from the outside.
My thumb hovers over the keyboard. I think about Draygon’s last text.
strays still eat. I think about what Sayshen said, how if I’m not waiting for an invite into their world, why am I even here.
Fuck it. I type before I can overthink it.
ME: hey. it’s echo.
sayshen told me to text you and i’m mildly afraid of what’ll happen if i don’t.
apparently you’re doing lunch am i allowed to crash it?
I stare at it for a second.
Too much?
Not enough? Well, too late.
I hit send.
Instant regret spikes, sharp and fast. I toss the phone onto the bed like it just betrayed me and grab my guitar, because at least that makes sense in my hands.
I strum a chord. Let it hum out. Pick at it without really hearing it.
My phone buzzes.
I grab it immediately.
BEXLEY: ECHO!!! ????
i’m so glad you messaged me!!
yes, you are absolutely allowed to crash it.
we’re going to Seaside Café 12:30.
Seaside Café.
Of course they’re going somewhere cute and coastal with overpriced coffee and good lighting. The smile that tugs at my mouth feels unfamiliar. Like I haven’t used those muscles in a while.
It feels like the start of something, and that’s the part that scares me.
But I text back anyway.
ME: okay.
Great, ill see you there and thanks
Three dots pop up instantly.
And just like that, I’m in. For now. For lunch and whatever this turns into.