Chapter 23 - August #2
He jogs after the rebound and cradles the ball like a confession. “It’s easier… when I watch her. Her routines, weird flourishes, how she hides her panic under a quiet smile.”
Ah. And there it is. He relates to her.
“That sounds like your type.” I’ve got no idea anymore. He’s changed from the man I knew.
He grins, boyish and a little bruised. “Maybe. I know that when I watch her, I want to be better.”
He takes another shot and nails it. I let him kick my ass. He needs it.
I circle him and whistle. “My boy’s got a crush.”
He sinks the next shot. “She deserves someone who’s not afraid of his own shadow.”
I catch his shoulder. “She’s not asking you to be perfect, and neither am I. We want someone who will meet us halfway.”
He falls quiet and lets that sit.
“Does she know you’re watching?” I ask.
We cleared her as a threat early on, but Grayson kept circling back, unable to move on to the next target. Now he’s running background checks with his heart.
“Yes.” He tucks the ball under his shoe, removes his glasses, and polishes them with his shirt.
“I got her out of the club when she panicked after the unicorn was drugged. We talk online. She seems calmer when I check in on her. Smiles and laughs more. Doesn’t flinch when a customer gets angry with her. ”
By the sound of it, he hasn’t left the bunker much since then. I haven’t checked in much since my time’s been consumed by Kate.
I walk over and ruffle his hair. “You like her?”
He bats me away like an annoyed little brother. “Depends on what your answer is.”
Fuck. I’ve had worse thrown at me. I’ve ridden him too hard. Treated him like a machine instead of a man. Pushed him to the brink to keep us all safe. Now he’s asking me if he’s allowed to feel something again besides the plastic of his keyboard or cables.
I take the back of his neck and squeeze.
“I’ve been so focused on the Romans, being a grumpy asshole barking orders, that I forgot my team’s made of people, not pawns.
You’ve held this all together. Held me together.
Spartacus wouldn’t be what it is without you and Katar.
” I pat his chest with my other hand. “You’re my brother, always. ”
His hand comes to my chest. “It’s beating again.”
“Fuck off.” I laugh and release him. “What I’m trying to say is, thank you. And if Charlie is what you want, I won’t stand in your way. Just be careful, okay?” I sound like a broken record but fuck it.
He nods and picks up the ball. “When are you gonna tell the unicorn, August?”
August. Not Mace. Man, not weapon. Friend, not leader.
I walk with him to the bleachers. “Tell her what?”
“That you’re halfway in love with her and three-quarters fucked over it.” He throws the ball at me hard.
I catch it with a grunt, my hands clenching tighter than they need to.
Outrunning the countdown ticking in my head is impossible.
Eventually, I’ll have to take off my helmet and show her the man she used to know.
The one who let her down when her world fell apart.
Who left her to rebuild alone, in the name of protecting her.
I called it strategy and sacrifice. I was a fucking coward.
Afraid that personal attachments would weaken my purpose, when it’s done the opposite.
My feelings for her have sharpened my aim.
I’ve spent too long denying myself and my team any sliver of happiness for the sake of a cause that was meant to mean something.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped being a man and became a weapon for vengeance.
Kate reminds me to feel. Strips away the armor that numbs me.
Shows me that I want more. Deserve a slice of heaven in this hell surrounding us.
I want to believe that what we’re building now is strong enough to survive.
Deep down, I know better, and that’s why I’m delaying the inevitable.
The truth has a way of leveling everything.
If she looks at me, eyes shining with betrayal at the ghost who failed her, I don’t know if I’ll survive.
She built a wall to protect herself. I built mine to protect everyone.
I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me. I’m terrified that this time, she’ll be the one to walk away.
Grayson’s voice hauls me back from the edge. “Tell her before it gets too late, August.”
My body ices over.
We wander back to the bunker, him to change, and me to get him back safely. I leave him there, rolling in guilt, and type out a text to Glitter Bomb.
I miss you already.
Delete.
Wish I could sleep beside you.
Sappy. Delete.
Me: Something came up. Won’t make it back tonight. I can’t fix it with fists and fire. Don’t wait up.
Kate: Everything okay?
I swallow at the lump in my throat.
Me: I hate being away from you. Just tired. Need to clear my head.
Ice in my blood sinks into my bones as I ride home.
I fire up the furnace to warm up and fashion something that will fix this.
Hours later, when it reaches temperature, my home workshop hums with the burners combusting the gas in the furnace, melting the glass.
Orange fire glows inside like a reopened wound.
My jacket’s slung over the chair, helmet tossed on the workbench, weighing more than my guilt.
My sleeves are rolled. I need my hands steady, but they shake with dread as I remove the melted blue glass from the belly.
I watch it stretch and soften before I begin to work with it, using the metal arms of the jacks to refine the shape.
Kate wears her colors like a mask, Cinderella wearing a spell.
Inspired by our fairy tale—or upcoming nightmare—I fashion her a rainbow pumpkin of tangerine, lemon, blue, with veins of violet and pink running through it.
Unlike me, this ornament can be salvaged if I don’t get it right, and I pour my damn soul into it.
I pinch the glass into the desired ridges of the vegetable.
It shapes up to be one of my best creations as I tease out the stalk and cut off any residual with shears.
When it’s finished, I sit and stare at it. I’m the grumpy prince under a spell. The glass slipper. The illusion. It’s only a matter of time before midnight hits, and the truth shatters our fragile bond, and she walks away. And no fairy godmother is coming to wave her wand and save me.