Page 111 of What We Bury
“Whoops.”
“It’s fine. But—no. Not a thing. Definitely not a thing.” I set the fork down. “I think it’s new to all of us. We’re close—closer than most. But there’s never been an object of mutual obsession before.”
“I’m an obsession.”
“Yep.” I flash my teeth. “You went fromthe girl we have to protectto the girl we want to follow home. It’s a whole vibe.”
She snorts. “That’s culty as hell.”
“Absolutely. Kool-Aid vibes. Waiting on the matching tracksuits.”
“And the others are all . . . okay with this?”
“Best to ask each of them yourself. I’m only an expert on me.” I pick my fork back up. “But for what it’s worth—we don’t share, we never have, and at the end of the day we’re linked by the blood we spill. Whatever shape this becomes, the rest will sort itself out.”
She pushes pasta around her plate. “I like Micah. I like Knox. I like—” she gestures vaguely at me, “—even Holden, in a weird scary way. But I’m worried about Eli.”
I frown.Eli was wound tight at the meeting this morning—refused the jacket Sage sent back, then disappeared into the alley with Micah.
“Did something happen?”
“He saw me with Micah. It didn’t end well.”
“When?”
“Last Monday. Early in the morning. I was having a nightmare and . . .” She shakes her head. “Just—Eli saw, and itseemed like he was into it. But when I reached for him, he left. He seemed hurt.”
Motherfucker.He’s upset our girl and now I’m probably going to have to pull his fingernails out.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t be lumping this on you. You made me dinner and here I am moaning about other guys.”
She bows her head, strands of hair falling over her eyes. I want to slide my chair over and pull her into my lap, squeeze her until the sadness leaks out. But I don’t. That’d be presumptuous. More so than breaking into her apartment, the pasta, the wine, and the extra keys.
So I snag a garlic knot from the bowl.
“It’s not moaning if it matters, kitten.” I gesture with it. “And don’t worry about Eli. He feels everything so much he has to barricade it behind ten feet of simmering angst. Letting you see any of it was probably catastrophic for him.”
She nods but bites her lip. “I just don’t understand what’s happening to me. Eleven days ago I was a normal person with normal feelings, and now I’m sitting here having dinner with a man I watched hang someone—who watchedmekill someone—and all I can think about is . . .”
She stops. Shakes her head.
“All you can think about is what?” I ask, soft.
She doesn’t answer. Just looks at me across the table, color climbing her throat, and I have the distinct, dizzying sense of a door starting to open that neither of us is ready to walk through yet.
So I don’t push. I nudge the bowl of garlic knots a little closer.
“Whenever you’re ready, kitten.”
THIRTY
KNOX
The night air hits my face when I step out of her building. I stand on the sidewalk for a second, breathing. My hand is still warm from where she pulled me up the stairs by two of my fingers, her grip small and perfect and somehow the most certain thing she’s done since I met her.Come up. I’ll make tea. Or whatever giants drink. Maybe I’ll ask you to help me get undressed.
Maybe I’ll ask you to help me get undressed.
I was three minutes from finding out whatthatlooked like before Milo ruined the moment.
