Page 127 of Renegade Rift
I just wanted her to be safe.To be happy.
But I’m not upset by what has happened. Not by a long shot. Juliet is the sun I didn’t know I’d been missing, living in a world of gray.
I can’t go back to dismal, depressing words on my baseline.
Then again, if she asked me to, I would.
Where I’m used to being in the spotlight, Juliet isn’t. First hidden away by Tyler, and then choosing to do so to protect her family. She’s been in a constant state of trying to survive. But of course, the headlines won’t say anything about that.
If she wanted to walk away, I’d let her.
Right?
Unease fills me, and the tendrils of the lie tease at my heart.
Fuck. Who am I? Of course I would let her go. I’m not her keeper.
But I want her to stay.
No, I want her tochooseto stay. That’s not the same thing.
Ending the existential war between my heart and mind, I whip out my phone, almost dropping it as I do,and shoot a quick message to Max, sending him the link and letting him know he’s got a fire to put out.
The distraction isn’t enough though
There isn’t enough air to force into my lungs, but I try anyway. I need to be the essence of calm—like I’m about to step on the field for nine innings. Juliet needs me to be her anchor.
I focus on that as I breathe.
In for two.
Out for two.
In for three.
Out for three.
In for four.
Out for four.
I’ve made it to ten by the time I reach the door to my apartment, but the uneasiness that fills me still hasn’t lifted.
Another two minutes of stalling and breathing pass before I finally work up the nerve to grip the knob and swing the door open.
My mouth immediately gapes.
I’m not prepared for what I find.
The apartment is…
Fuck, it’s magical.
Tiny little electric candles cover every surface, softly flickering and sending light bouncing off the walls. In the living room area, the coffee table has been pushed to the side and replaced with mounds of pillows and blankets. A small projector paints the ceiling with a slow-moving portrait of the milky way. It reminds me of the night spent in the back of my dad’s truck looking up at the stars.
Don’t Stop Believingechoes quietly from the record player, and there in the middle of it all, setting the table with what looks like a s’mores bar is Juliet. Her shirt dances along the hem of her shorts, revealing a line of beautiful tan skin as she sways her hips to the beat of the music. She looks like a fucking angel bathed in the dancing lights of the candles.
It’s at that exact moment I know three things.
