Chapter 26 Ego
Ego
The snow’s coming down in thick, fluffy flakes now, and the streets are slick with a slurry of salt and meltwater—making driving rough and braking damn near suicidal.
My heart’s beating me to death.
But I yank the wheel up her block, slam the truck into park—half on the curb, half in the bushes—and throw the door open like the street’s on fire.
I don’t even kill the engine.
Kai yells behind me as I jump out, “I’ll park it, sure! You’re welcome, dickhead!”
I flip him off over my shoulder.
My boots hit pavement, and I’m running before I even realize it.
Her house is right there—quiet. Too quiet.
Lights on, but no movement.
Every breath I take feels like a curse in my lungs.
I take the porch steps two at a time and raise my fist to knock—the door flies open.
I freeze.
It’s not her.
It’s a short redhead I remember from her school.
Mary-something.
Teaches first grade.
She’s got her arms crossed and murder glowing in her eyes.
She doesn’t flinch.
“Well, well, look what the emotionally constipated cat dragged in!”
Her voice is sharp.
Clipped.
Like she’s barely holding back the urge to throw a punch. Behind her, I catch the faintest glimpse of Sabrina—curled up on the couch in an oversized hoodie, her knees tucked to her chest, eyes puffy.
I take a step forward.
Mary steps right in front of me like she’s the damn Secret Service.
“Uh-uh. No way. Back it up, Captain Testosterone.”
“I need to see her.”
“She needed you two days ago.”
My jaw clenches. “I know that.”
“Do you?” She plants a hand on her hip. “Because from what I hear, she was kidnapped, assaulted, threatened, watched several men get killed in front of her, and woke up alone in a hospital wondering if the guy who said he’d protect her meant it for more than just five minutes.”
The words hit like knives.
I nod slowly, trying not to lose it.
“I fucked up.”
“You think?” she hisses. “You don’t ghost a woman after something like that. You show up. You bring soup or flowers or something! You hold her hand. You stay!”
“I was trying to give her space,” I grind out.
“Bullshit. You were trying to run. Probably thought you were being noble, right? Classic man logic. ‘Let me disappear so I don’t cause her more pain.’” She throws her hands in the air. “Guess what, brooding Rambo? You are the pain.”
I wince. Because she’s not wrong.
“Mary,” Sabrina whispers, but I hear it and fuck, it is so good to hear her voice. Even though it’s raspy and hoarse from her crying.
Mary steps closer, not backing down.
“She’s scared, Theo. She’s blaming herself for everything. She thinks she was just a job to you—just some pretty face who got too messy.”
“She’s not,” I snap, chest tight, heart pounding. “She’s everything. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I left because I thought I was protecting her, but I was just being a fucking coward.”
Mary stares at me for a long moment.
Then she softens.
Just a hair.
“She cried for two hours straight in winter traffic in a goddamn rideshare,” she says quietly. “She shouldn’t have had to do that. I’ve known her for years, since we started working at school together, and I’ve never seen her like this.
“I should’ve been there.”
“Damn right you should’ve.”
I look at the door, then back at her.
“Please. Just let me talk to her. Let me apologize. I-I don’t care if she slams the door in my face. I just need her to know I’m here.”
Mary hesitates.
Then exhales, stepping aside.
“One wrong word, and I break your kneecaps,” she mutters.
“Fair.”
She turns and calls back inside, voice gentle.
“Hey, Sabrina? You’ve got a visitor.”
I step through the doorway, every nerve on fire, heart beating like war drums.
And there she is.
On the couch.
Wrapped in a blanket, hair a mess, eyes wide and wet and shocked.
Like she’s not sure if I’m real or a ghost.
“Angel,” I whisper, my throat tight. “I’m so sorry.”
The room goes painfully still while she decides if I even deserve another word from her.
Please.
Please, Angel, say something. Anything.
My thoughts are screaming, but I don’t move. I don’t push. I’ve done enough damage already.
Somewhere behind me, I hear Kai and Mary whispering near the door.
Mary sounds like she’s verbally eviscerating him, and honestly? I’m positive my asshole twin deserves it.
But I don’t care. Not right now.
Not about anyone except the woman sitting in front of me wrapped in a blanket like the world’s been too damn cruel.
And it has.
“What—what are you doing here, Theo?” she asks softly.
“Well, I thought Marco might—”
“Marco? He’s a confidential informant for the FBI, apparently. But so what? Were you worried? Ha.”
Her laugh is humorless, and it guts me.
“You don’t have to be.”
“Fuck, that’s just a cop-out. Truth is, I came for you, Angel.”
Her chin dips, fingers twisting in the edge of the blanket.
“Why now?” she whispers. “I wasn’t worth the trouble before.”
Fuck. Is that what she thinks?
That hits me straight in the chest. Rips something vital clean open.
“That’s not why,” I say quickly, voice breaking. “That was never why. God, Sabrina, no.”
I swallow hard. “Can I… can I sit by you?”
I don’t deserve it. I know that.
But I ask anyway.
She bites her lip, pulls the blanket tighter around herself, then nods.
Thank fuck.
I move carefully, like she’s made of glass, sitting beside her without touching her at first. I turn to face her fully because I refuse to hide—even if everything about this hurts.
“Angel, I’m so sorry I let this happen,” I say, the words tearing out of me now. “It was my job to protect you. And I failed. And the guilt just—”
My voice cracks. “It swallowed me.”
“What are you talking about?” she says, shaking her head. “You saved me.”
“No, I put you in that situation by not doing my job. I was supposed to stop it before it ever got that far,” I say hoarsely. “I was distracted. I got sloppy. And then you were hurt because of me.”
Her eyes soften, but there’s still pain there. Confusion. Fear.
“I stayed away because I thought I was poison,” I admit. “I thought if I wasn’t near you, you’d be safer. Like somehow my feelings made you a target.”
Her breath hitches.
“I didn’t trust myself,” I go on. “Didn’t trust that wanting you wouldn’t get you killed. And instead of talking to you—like I should’ve—I ran.”
I finally risk it, laying my hand on the blanket near hers, not touching skin. Waiting.
“I was wrong,” I say quietly. “So fucking wrong. Because being away from you didn’t protect you. It just hurt you more. And it hurt me, too. But that’s all on me.”
She stares at our hands, her lashes trembling.
“Theo, you don’t get to decide what I can handle,” she whispers.
“I know,” I say immediately. “And I swear to you, I will never do that again. If you give me another chance, I promise, I will never try to make choices for you without you ever again.”
“Relationships are hard work, Theo. It won’t always be high stakes drama and romance. What then? Will you get bored? Will you walk away?”
“No! I swear, I’m not going anywhere. I won’t disappear on you. Won’t run. Won’t leave. Not unless you tell me to.”
Her fingers inch closer. Not quite touching mine.
“Sabrina, the truth is, I love you. I am in love with you,” I say, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “I tried not to fall. But I failed at that too.”
She laughs then. It’s brief, but sweet. So damn sweet.
“I’m done pretending I don’t have real feelings for you. And I don’t care how messy or terrifying it is—I love you. I want you. I choose you. And I hope like Hell, you choose me back.”
Silence stretches.
I brace myself for her to pull away. To tell me to leave.
Instead, she exhales shakily.
“I’m really tired, Theo.”
“I know,” I murmur. “You don’t have to decide anything tonight. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
“Theo—”
“No, I mean it. I’ll sleep on the floor. I’ll stay in the truck if you want me to. I’ll do anything you say. I’m yours, Angel. All yours.”
She finally looks up at me. Really looks.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she whispers.
My chest caves in on itself.
“Then, I won’t,” I promise. “Not ever again.”
And this time when her fingers curl around mine, I know—whatever comes next, I’ll face it.
With her.