Page 30 of Piston

But I don't. I can't. Because as much as I want her here, as much as I need her, I know that I'm not good for her. That my life, my world, will only drag her down.

So I let her go, even as every fiber of my being screams at me to chase after her. I let her walk out of my life, knowing that it's the only way to keep her safe.

Even if it means tearing my own heart out in the process.

I sink back onto the bed, my body aching with every movement. The pain in my ribs is nothing compared to the ache in my chest, the hollow feeling that Jenny's absence has left behind.

I close my eyes, but all I can see is the hurt in her eyes, the way her lips trembled as she tried to hold back her tears. I did that. I put that pain there.

And for what? To protect her? To keep her safe from the dangers of my world?

I let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the empty room. Who am I kidding? I pushed her away because I'm a coward.Because I'm too damn scared to let her in, to let her see the broken pieces of my soul.

I've spent so long building up these walls, these defenses. I've convinced myself that I'm better off alone, that I don't need anyone. But the truth is, I do need her. I need her like I need air to breathe.

But I can't have her. I can't let her into this life, can't let her become a target. I've seen what happens to the people I care about, the danger they're put in just by being close to me.

I won't let that happen to Jenny. I won't let my enemies use her to get to me. I won't let her become collateral damage in my war.

So I'll let her hate me. I'll let her think I'm a heartless bastard who doesn't give a damn about her. It's better that way. Better for her to be angry than to be dead.

I roll onto my side, wincing at the pain that shoots through my body. The bed feels too big without her, too empty. I reach out, my fingers brushing against the pillow where her head should be.

I'm doing the right thing, I tell myself. I'm protecting her. But the words ring hollow in my ears, a flimsy justification for my own cowardice.

I close my eyes, willing sleep to come, to take me away from this pain, this guilt. But sleep is a long time coming, and when it finally does, it's filled with nightmares of Jenny walking away, of me watching her go, powerless to stop her.

The nightmare shifts, and suddenly I'm not watching Jenny walk away anymore. I'm watching her run, her eyes wide with terror as she looks back over her shoulder.

She's in an alley, dark and narrow, the kind of place you don't want to be alone at night. But she is alone, and she's running from something, someone.

I try to call out to her, to tell her to run to me, that I'll keep her safe. But my voice is stuck in my throat, and all I can do is watch as a shadowy figure gains on her, reaching out with grasping hands.

She stumbles, falls, and the figure is on her in an instant, pinning her to the ground. I can hear her screams, see the fear in her eyes as she struggles against her attacker.

I'm running now, my feet pounding against the pavement as I try to reach her. But no matter how fast I run, I can't seem to get any closer. It's like I'm running in place, helpless to do anything but watch.

The attacker's face comes into view, and I feel my blood run cold. It's the Russian, the one from my earlier dream, his eyes glinting with malice as he looks up at me.

"You can't save her," he sneers, his accent thick and heavy. "You can't save anyone."

I lunge forward, my fist drawn back to strike. But before I can make contact, the scene dissolves, and I'm back in my bed, my heart racing and my skin slick with sweat.

I sit up, my head in my hands as I try to catch my breath. It was just a dream, I tell myself. Jenny's safe, she's not in danger.

But the fear won't leave me, the image of her terrified face burned into my mind. I can't shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen, that by pushing her away, I've put her in even more danger.

I reach for my phone, my fingers hovering over her number. I want to call her, to tell her I'm sorry, that I didn't mean what I said. But I hesitate, the words of the Russian echoing in my head.

You can't save her. You can't save anyone.

I put the phone down, my hand shaking. I'm not sure what to do, how to keep her safe. All I know is that the thought of losing her is worse than any physical pain I've ever endured.

I lie back down, my eyes fixed on the ceiling as I try to come up with a plan. But my mind is a mess, my thoughts jumbled and incoherent.

As I drift off into a restless sleep, one thing becomes clear: I can't let anything happen to Jenny. No matter what it takes, no matter what I have to do, I'll keep her safe.

Even if it means losing her forever.

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