Chapter 4 #3
But then she says, “When I hurt my hand. It was an accident. But what happened… I was walking out to my car after class. The parking lot was empty.”
“And?”
“I thought I heard a noise. At first, I told myself it was nothing. An animal, maybe. Or trash blowing in the wind. But then I heard the sound again. It was footsteps. Quiet ones, like they were trying to be sneaky.”
Everything inside me draws up in alarm. “Someone was following you?”
Shit. Shit. Winthrop is on house arrest in Tacoma, but what if he slipped away and came to Seattle to get revenge on Yara? Or he paid someone to come after her?
“No.” Yara pats my arm. “I just thought someone was. And it was so stupid—even if someone had been out there, I could have defended myself. I had my multi-tool with the whistle and pepper spray. Plus my self-defense… But something just came over me, and I panicked. Ran to my car like there was an army of insurgents on my heels. And when I tried to close the door…”
Yara lifts her bandaged hand as evidence. “I shut my hand in it. After sprinting across a perfectly empty parking lot like an idiot. Then I look around and no one’s there. Dumb, like I said.”
The self-recrimination in her eyes makes my heart twist. “Not dumb, Yara. I think a lot of people would have reacted that way.”
“A Green Beret?” she asks with a skeptical tilt of her head. “Or at least, I was. I know what to do if I’m attacked. I still practice Krav Maga and Jiu-Jitsu every week. A regular person might have panicked, but I shouldn’t have.”
“That’s not true,” I persist. “Everyone has—”
“Really, Ace? So you’d panic if you—” Yara stops. Sighs heavily. “Sorry. I’m just frustrated with myself.”
I touch her arm. “Why?”
Another sigh. “Because I’m not doing quite as well as I said. Since Tacoma, I haven’t felt right.”
“Like how?”
“I’ve been extra anxious. Unsettled. I can’t get rid of this feeling that someone’s coming after me. I know it’s not true. But it doesn’t stop my imagination from going haywire. And I hate it.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to suggest that maybe Yara wasn’t imagining things in the parking lot.
She doesn’t have as many enemies as I do, thanks to the criminals I’ve helped put away with Blade and Arrow, but anyone who served in Special Forces has their fair share of people with a motive for vengeance.
And that’s not even counting that slimy asshole, Winthrop.
But Yara’s opening up to me. And I don’t want to ruin it. Maybe later, when I can’t put it off any longer, but not now.
“Hey.” I jostle Yara’s side. “It’ll get better. Trust me.”
When her gaze meets mine, there’s a vulnerability in them she hasn’t let me see before.
“I hate not feeling like the Yara I used to be. I never used to get scared. Even when things were at their worst, I was confident in my skills. I was confident in my team. And now…” She shrugs.
“Sometimes I feel like a shadow of my former self.”
That wrenching feeling in my chest is back.
Fighting the desire—need—to hug her, I settle for rubbing Yara’s arm instead. And I end up saying something closer to the truth than I’ve ever admitted. “I know how you feel, Tink. Of coming back and feeling like… less.”
Her brow creases. “Ace.”
“But you’re not,” I add. “You came back and jumped right back into doing amazing things. Creating these incredible prosthetics. You changed Indy’s life with the one you made him. You change other people’s lives. That’s not being a shadow, Tink. You’re one of the brightest lights I’ve ever seen.”
She looks at me, long and hard, emotion working in her eyes. “Thanks, Ace.” After another long pause, she nudges my elbow with hers. Then she gives me a tiny smile. “So. BattleBots. I’m in the middle of the quarterfinal rounds, but if you aren’t up to them yet…”
“Quarterfinals sound great.” Leaning forward, I grab the remote and turn on the TV. “And you can explain this giant wheel business. Plus, the robot that’s supposed to be so powerful, but it keeps overheating every match. What’s the point of having high RPMs if the engine overheats every time?”
Yara shifts, so her thigh is brushing mine.
The next smile she gives me is bigger. More genuine.
Some of the tension in her features is gone.
“Okay. So, with the spinner, the idea is to take out all the opponent’s offensive gear right away.
But it’s really an older style of robot.
You’ll see when you get into the later seasons.
That’s when the flippers really come into their own. ”
As Yara continues explaining, I watch the last of the darkness leave her eyes. And along with it, some of my worry dissolves.
Not all of it, no. I still want to know just how bad things have been for her lately. And I still want to look into these mysterious footsteps in the parking lot that I’m not entirely convinced were imagined.
But for now?
For now, I’m at Yara’s place, listening to her talk about one of her favorite things. We’re going to eat pizza and watch TV like we used to. If she wakes up from a nightmare, I’ll be here for company.
She’s smiling. She’s safe.
And for now, that’s more than enough.