“She is not a toy. Not a fucking pawn.” My voice holds a deadly edge to it. I grip the steering wheel tighter. “She will not be used just because I want to get to that piece of shit. I will protect her, even if that means I can never get to him.”
“But what if he doesn’t care the same as you do? What if she chooses family over—”
“She won’t,” I say, managing to keep my calm though I’m vibrating with rage. “She hates him as much as I do.”
If it’s not one hundred percent true, I know it’s close. I could see it in her eyes when she looked at the vial of poison. I could see the way she hated what had been asked of her by her father, and the way it was tearing us apart once I found it.
“You love her,” he states, and I don’t miss the shock in his tone.
“I care about her,” I attempt to correct him, but I fear he might be right.
“And what if this curse is the end for one or both of you?”
I sigh and pretend to pay attention to the red light in front of me. Why the fuck won’t it turn green?!
“I hope that I die so she can live,” I say, an ache in my heart at the thought of her dying. She can’t. I will do anything to keep it from happening.
He wants to say more. I can feel it crackling in the air between us as he plans out his words again.
“That’s the end of this conversation,” I warn, tone dark and on edge. The light finally turns green, and I press hard on the gas, making the tires squeal as I take off.
I park the car in the back of the hotel and hop out. Leaning against the closed door, I reach inside my jacket and pull out the slim metal case that holds my cigarettes. Torrin takes the same stance beside me as I light up and then tuck the case back into my pocket.
“I’m not trying to upset you,” he says, and he’s smart enough to keep his tone low so only I can hear him. “I just worry about you. And I worry Aubert will use her as a way to get to you, even if she’s not part of the plan. You can’t stop him, which makes this situation even worse. If I could kill him for you, I would.”
I know Torrin. I can see it in his eyes when I look over at him. He’s thinking about trying, even knowing how it will end. Sure, they are just rumors, but some rumors have merit, especially when you’ve seen one of the bodies of the people who have dared to try to kill Aubert. They didn’t just go crazy, they ended up taking their own lives in the most disturbing ways. Something even I couldn’t conjure up in my mind.
“There has to be a way to break the protection spell,” I say, my eyes darting around to make sure no one is listening.
“Oh, so you get a little witchy girlfriend and you suddenly believe in magic without question.” His tone mocks me as much as his words do.
I tilt my head slightly and glare at him, nearly laughing when the smile slides off his face.
My dad used to pull the same terrifying look before he killed someone. I guess I know where I got it from.
I take a strong drag of my cigarette instead of punching him square in the nose. The burn in my lungs is enough of a distraction. I need Torrin more than ever now, and I need him strong and uninjured. Besides, I hate the way he talks when he has a broken nose. I need to keep my annoyances to a minimum if I’m going to deal with this shit.
I drop my smoke as I push off the car, grinding it into the asphalt with my shoe.
“Alright,” I say with a long exhale. “Let’s go make this asshole pay.”
“Or…” Torrin says with a look on his face that screams trouble, “we could hit the bar, have a celebratory drink, and let Paulie sweat it out a while in the hole.”
I’m half tempted to tell him I’m not in the mood. But I pause, taking him in for a second.
“What the fuck are we celebrating?” I ask as I head toward the main entrance in the back of the hotel instead of the door that leads straight to the basement room where Paulie is being held.
“Your recent catch of the feels.” He smiles and shoots a wink my way. He tosses his arms up in the air like he’s throwing out Mardi Gras beads or something. “Love is in the air.”
He’s so fucking annoying. If I didn’t need him, he’d be dead for that shit. This isn’t the first time I’ve had a thought like that, and strangely, I find comfort in it. If only I could find comfort knowing there will be more similar thoughts in the future.
I resist a sigh.
It’s something I’m going to have to deal with soon, but not now.
“One drink,” I say, hoping it will get him to knock that shit off.
“You’re buying.”
