Chapter 22 Rose
I slam the door and turn toward Parker. Does he think I’m stupid? That I don’t know he’s just had his tongue down her throat? That I was oblivious to the fact that his plans changed the second he saw her?
The truth pools behind his cunning eyes.
Once Parker’s powers are restored, he isn’t going home.
He’s going to stay here with her. He’s tried to tell me for days, but I haven’t wanted to hear it.
Because deep down, part of me wanted to buy his family bullshit.
He’s a liar. I’m better alone. I like being alone.
At least I did, until Neurovida ruined me.
“Did you tell her?” I ask him, my forearm clutching McGregor’s journal against my chest. The corner digs into my ribs.
He spends a moment taking me in. “Tell her what?”
“About Flame.”
“Shh, keep your voice down,” he says, leading me away from the door.
I yank my elbow out of his hold. “She has a right to know, don’t you think?”
He studies me for a moment, his blond brows furrowed. “You were the one who wanted to keep that information between us.”
“To protect her,” I say with a snarl. “Not play fucking house in the past and repress what happened.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
I laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“What’s going on, Rose? You’re not yourself.”
I hate the way he keeps his voice level, as if he’s reining me in like a wild animal.
“How would you know?” I spit. “We spend every single second focused on you.” I inhale on my vape, gripping the plastic stick so tightly my fingers ache.
“Where’s this coming from?” he asks, moving toward me.
I dodge his touch and pace the room, randomly changing direction without purpose. I never should’ve let Parker talk me into coming here. Six months I’ve been stuck here, living with this relentless headache, losing my mind. Fuck Parker.
I jerk to a halt. “I want to travel the book to McGregor. To when he first agreed to help us. It’ll save time.”
Parker steps in front of me. “No way. You’re not traveling again. You need to rest.”
“I’ll rest once he has his journal,” I argue, holding it up.
Parker’s jaw flexes. “If we’re taking it back to when we first met him, it won’t matter if we go now or in a week or two.”
I slam McGregor’s journal down on the dining table. “You’re stalling so you can spend more time with her,” I yell.
“Are you kidding me?” Parker asks, his face scrunched. “I’m stalling because I don’t want you to travel so soon after last night. At one point, you nearly lost your hold on me.”
I laugh at the ceiling. “So, this is about you?” Surprise, surprise.
“I’m worried about you. Your clothes are hanging off you. You barely eat, or sleep for more than three hours straight. Every day, you become more distant. I don’t know how to get through to you anymore.”
“Get through to me? As if you’ve ever tried. You’ll never be able to see past her, will you? Never be able to see what’s right in front of you.”
“See past her?” Parker squints, his lips pressed together. “What are you talking about?”
I storm into the kitchen, shoving my shaking hands into my hoodie.
He releases a breath and sits at the dining table. “Rose, come and sit down for a second. Please?”
I pace the short distance between the front door and the kitchenette. How could I be so stupid? I promised myself I wouldn’t let this happen, but somehow Parker crept in, settling under my skin like a splinter left to fester. Cut him out, snarls a dark voice. Leave him, before he leaves you.
He stands and approaches me slowly. “Look, it’s been a tough twenty-four hours, for you more than me, and I know that’s because you’re the one doing all the work. But I’m worried about you. You’re not thinking clearly.”
I storm past him, continuing with my pacing. “Don’t pretend to care,” I throw behind my back.
“Of course I care.” I turn around and he grabs my shoulders, stopping me in my tracks. He dips his head so I’m forced to meet his gaze. “Rose, I fucking care.”
His fingers press into my shoulders, and my pulse spikes. “Get your hands off me,” I scream.
He yanks his arms away as if I’ve burned him. “Why do you do that?” he yells back. “You think I can’t feel it because Neurovida taught you to block it out, but you’re so unwell, you don’t even realize… I’ve felt it for months.”
Now he’s gaslighting me. Telling me I’m not thinking clearly. Making me believe I’m the one who’s crazy, so he can call the shots. He’s a fucking monster. I size him up. “Feel what?”
“Your echo. That tightness in your chest, the burning in your gut. The pain. The anger. I feel all of it, and nothing I do makes it better. You hate me. Being stuck with me. This burden I’ve put on you.”
His words are like an injection of icy water through my veins.
“I—” I fumble for a response. I had no idea he could feel my echo.
Here I was thinking I’d been so clever suppressing it.
I stop avoiding his stare. His pupils are dilated, his eyebrows drawn up at the center.
Guilt bubbles in my chest at his tension-lined face.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Parker isn’t a monster. He literally took a bullet for me, and he’s right. I’m not thinking clearly. “I don’t hate you,” I say.
He steps toward me, so close his woody scent envelopes me. “Then why can I feel it? Every time you look at me. Every time I touch you.” He presses his fingers to his chest. “This explosive hatred, right here.”
“I don’t hate you, Parker,” I repeat, my body trembling.
“What is it then? Tell me what I can do to make it better.”
I stare out the kitchen window as my shaking limbs turn heavy. Leaning against the sink, I close my eyes. “There’s nothing you can do.”
“There must be. Tell me.” He’s beside me now, taking up too much space. Too close. Eyes too bright.
I turn toward him, chewing on the inside of my cheek. He raises his brows—he won’t let this go. My shoulders drop. “Come on, Parker. It’s not hate, it’s—” I sigh. “I hate… the way I feel about you.”
His brows furrow. “You—” His eyes widen, his mouth slackening. I’ve never seen Parker speechless before. And the sadness in his eyes is crushing. “But you like women.”
“I mean, not exclusively. After what happened, I didn’t think I’d ever…” Parker’s shoulders tense, and I trail off. He’s seen more than enough of my memories at Neurovida to understand.
He leans against the sink beside me and runs a hand through his hair, gaze darting around our half-furnished apartment for an answer that isn’t there.
A way to fix this massive problem that is me.
I study his profile, the tension in his strong jaw, the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. “Let’s just—”
“It’s fine, Parker.” I rush to the dining table and pick up McGregor’s stolen journal. “Let’s take this to McGregor. There’s no point wasting any more time.” I check my watch and plant my hand on his shoulder. Our bodies tremble, the throbbing in my head a vicious stab.
“Rose, wait. You’re my best friend. I owe you my life. And you know how I feel about you.” He grabs my hand, gripping it to stop me from pulling away. “But it’s like you said… I’ll never be able to see past her. She took up so much space. I’m not sure there will ever be room for anyone else.”
“I know,” I whisper, slipping my hand from his.
And I really do know. But what Parker fails to understand is how much I don’t want to feel this way about him.
I don’t want him to make room for me in his heart.
I don’t want my chest to palpitate every time I close my eyes and see his tilted grin.
I need to make it stop, to give myself a break.
My aching heart. My pounding head. My worn out body.
I’ve spent the last six months putting Parker before myself, but I can’t do it any longer.
Something’s going to break, and I can’t let it be me.
Heart sinking, stomach too tight, I hold my hand out to him and put on a firm voice. “I’m taking this book to McGregor, and I’m going with or without you. Decide.”
He shakes his head but mutters, “Fine,” and takes my hand. “But after this, promise me you’ll rest.”
“I promise.” I close my eyes and push the volatile energy swarming my chest into Parker. My body heats from the inside, every cell in our bodies vibrating. “Please don’t forget everything I’m doing is for you. To get your powers back.”
He gives my hand a squeeze. “Never.”
Pain rips through my head, and my power whips through our bodies, carrying us forward through time.
“Goodbye,” I whisper, but with the blood whooshing through Parker’s ears, I know he can’t hear me.