Page 160 of Unexpected Heroine

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“Thanks for thinking of Sue.” He finally meets my eyes again, and this time, he appears apprehensive. “I got a call from Josh today to let me know Lettie went back to her apartment.”

“Fuck.” The word slips out before I can stop it, and my body goes rigid. For the first time, my unaffected facade slips.

He puts his giant hands up in front of him, trying to calm me. “Josh didn’t tell me everything. He was trying to protect her confidentiality, but I picked up enough to get the feeling it wasn’t exactly a planned departure.”

Taking a few steps away from the car, I give him my back and drag my hands through my hair, tugging punishingly at the roots. “Is there a question in there, or are you just stating facts?”

My feet keep moving, leading me away from him of their own accord. Away from the pain he’s dredging up.

He sighs loud enough for me to hear it over the distance I put between us.

Planting my feet, I put my fists on my hips and let my head sag. “Go ahead. Ask what you’re going to ask.”

Whether I answer is yet to be determined.

“Listen, T, I won’t pretend to have the foggiest fucking clue how she must feel. And I don’t know how you’re holding up. I’d be fucking wrecked if I were in your shoes.”

“The fucking point, Lionheart?” I spit out, still unable to look at him and frantic to escape this conversation.

“Don’t wait.”

Huh?

Confused by his perplexing advice, if that’s what you want to call it, I turn to face him. “Don’t wait for what?”

His expression crumples, and his throat bobs. “Don’t wait to apologize for whatever the fuck caused the tiff. Don’t wait to tell her how you feel. Don’t fuck up like I did by convincing yourself she’s better off without you or whatever bullshit you’re likely feeding yourself. Give her a little time, but not too much. Let her know how you feel about her. Soon. And often. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Don’t let her go. Fight for her.”

Shaking my head, I wave him off. “It’s not like that, Leo.”

“What’s it like then?”

“It’s not some fucking tiff; I can tell you that much. No amount of apologizing can fix this.” I huff out an irritated exhale, then march back to my car. “It doesn’t matter, anyhow. I need to go.”

He puts his gargantuan lion paw on the driver’s door, preventing me from opening it.

“What the fuck is with you and Sawyer today? I need to fucking go. I’ve got?—”

“People to kill.” He finishes my sentence, a taunting quality injected into his tone.

“What the fuck would you do, Lionheart?”

While it’s intended as a rhetorical question, I soon realize I’m waiting for an answer, hoping he has some morsel of advice that could wake me from this nightmare.

As if he’s invading my thoughts or doing Big Al’s brain probe thing, he responds, “You want to know what I’d do? Or do you want me to tell you what I think you should do?”

I pop my knuckles on both hands and eye him down.“Is there a difference?”

“There is a difference, and here it is.” He steps closer, putting one hand on my shoulder. “I’d want to burn down the fucking world. I’d want to kill them all. With my own two hands. Painfully as fucking possible. I’d use every fucked-up thing the military taught us to hunt them to the ends of the earth and make them sorry they even thought about touching my girl.”

When he pauses for a breath, I jump in. “Not seeing a problem.”

“The problem is I’d have tried to do it on my own and would get myself captured or fucking killed because my emotions would blind me.”

“That’s the difference between you and me. I don’t have that ailment.” I tap my fist against my hollow chest.

He tsks three times at me. “The fuck you don’t. No matter what the hell you think is broken inside there.” He pokes the index finger of his free hand over what remains of my heart. “You’re the same as the rest of us. You love. You hate. You hurt. You just don’t show your emotions the way most people do. That doesn’t fucking mean they aren’t there. Quit pretending you’re a robot.”

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