Page 44 of Bound By Threads
I pause. “No.”
He nods.
“No way.”
“He followed her after. Was parked outside the club since three a.m.,” Crew mutters.
“So he’s stalking her?” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose to try to get rid of this fucking headache their all causing me. I have enough to worry about than Scarlett fucking Reyes ruining everything I’ve worked so hard for the past two years, and I don’t care if she’s suddenly alive. I won’t let her destroy everything.
“Protecting.”
I laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. “Protecting her? From what? Us?”
Crew doesn’t say anything, just stares at me brokenly. We failed her. That’s what he’s saying without words.
And now she’s back from the dead, and I’m the only one angry. Because she did this. She vanished. Broke them. Left them bleeding and left me to pick up the pieces.
Now Crew’s high off his ass, Elijah’s spiraling, and I—I can’t breathe without wanting to rip something apart. Preferably her. She doesn’t get to come back and pretend like she’s the one who suffered.
She ruined us, and I’m going to make her understand what that cost.
I leaveCrew passed out again, slumped on his bed with more regret in his eyes than I can stomach.
The quad is still quiet when I get outside. Everything feels like it’s been turned up since last night. The streets are sharp with color and sound. It’s like it’s been muted since she was gone. I can’t shake the image of her on that stage. Her body moving like the past never touched her, like she hadn’t disappeared and taken pieces of all three of us with her.
I drive to the location on my phone, that lets me know exactly where Elijah is. I don’t even question it anymore. Elijah’s been distant since we were told she was dead, and he’s pulled back more ever since. His new wife hasn’t helped either.
A sick, coiling feeling in my gut has my hands clenching around the steering wheel. Did we push her too far? She understood that we were made to do it, right?
His truck comes into view, parked across the street, engine off, windows down just a crack. From the look of the empty coffee cups and snack wrappers piled on the dash, he’s barely moved all night. His eyes don’t move from the house in front of us, and I knock on the window.
He flinches hard, then opens the door slowly, his eyes bloodshot. Elijah always looks too clean for what we are—too calm. But this? He looks worse than Crew. He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at me… waiting.
“She’s not going to come running into your arms,” I say, leaning against the door frame.
“I know.”
“Have you been here all night?”
“Yeah.”
“Elijah…” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose again. The migraine is in full force. “What the fuck, man?”
He stares at the front door like it might open its mouth and spit her out. “I don’t know. I thought maybe…” he shakes his head. “I just needed to see her again. Make sure she was real.”
“She’s real.”
“She’salive.” He practically chokes the word out.
“Yep.” I try not to sneer the word, but he eyes me, a warning lurking in the depths of his eyes.
“Don’t Roman.” He shakes his head. “She was dead. We thought she was gone. I couldn’t sleep for weeks after. Kept thinking I heard her voice.”
“Well, she was never really gone, was she?” I pull out a cigarette, light it, and take a drag. “She doesn’t care about us, E. You and Crew need to get a grip. We—You can’t lose your head over some girl.”
Elijah looks at me. “Maybe, but you saw how scared she looked last night.”
“So what? We scared her? You twoshatteredwhen she vanished. Crew went off the rails. You stopped talking and married someone we’ve never even met. And me? I had to carry it all. So no, I don’t give a shit if she’s scared of us now. She should be.” Elijah doesn’t say anything, so I carry on. “She’s been out here dancing. Do you really think she gives a shit about any of us?”
