His answer feels too short. Like there should be more added, but he doesn’t continue.
“I hear Florida is pretty awesome in the winter,” I say, trying to lighten the somber mood that is nearly choking me. “Maybe you could go there. Start new where no one knows who you are. There are lots of old people there, so you’ll always have a job.”
Nothing. I don’t even get a tiny break of a smile from him. He lets out a hard breath, and something in his expression looks resolved. “Juliet, I’ve been trying to let go. I’ve been trying to work on myself. Hell, I even saw a therapist while I was in Rome. You seem to think that I can just… move on from this. That all I need is new people and some new scenery, but…”
Whoa. This just took a turn into the deep end, and I did not know I was going to need arm floaties on this walk.
“Sebastian,” I say quietly, sounding a little pathetic.
He shakes his head as if to silence me from saying anything else. “I meant what I said, Juliet. I won’t stand in your way. You and Roman…” he can’t say the words, and I can see just how much this hurts. “But I can still feel it there, I’m fighting it every second. The need to know you’re safe. To be the one to protect you. To make sure you’re not doing something reckless and dangerous.”
And I feel it in my bones then. Sebastian might be trying not to, but he’s just all but admitted that he hasn’t stopped stalking me.
We turn the last corner and cross the street to my building. My hands are shaking, and my stomach feels sick. Emotions are pricking the backs of my eyes.
“You deserve to live life without the fear of having my shadow over your shoulder, Juliet,” Sebastian says, his voice slightly hoarse. “I’m broken. I’m a mess, and I have been my entire life. I’m not the kind that you piece back together with gold and have something more beautiful after. I’m the kind that cuts your fingers as you pick up the pieces.”
I press the button to call the elevator. “Sebastian, you’re scaring me.” My voice shakes with the truth of my words.
“I have to do what’s best for you,” he says as he finally looks up and meets my eyes. I’ve never seen such haunted eyes. “I have to give you your freedom.”
“Sebastian, tell me what’s going on,” I say as the doors slide open, and I follow him inside. “The things you’re saying… No one is beyond hope. Everyone is worthy of love, and you are no exception to that rule. I wasn’t it for you. There is someone out there that is going to be able to give you the relationship you want. She can give you what I never could, and it will be so, so much better.”
Sebastian’s eyes fix on the wall in front of us as we rise through the building. “I’m doing what’s best for you,” he says simply, his voice only barely audible.
“What does that mean?” I ask, panic rising in my voice. “Sebastian, I don’t understand. Why…”
I can’t find the words. My head is spinning. It feels as if the world has tipped at an angle, and my feet are about to slip out from beneath me.
“It’s all going to be okay, Juliet. I promise.”
The doors slide open, and Sebastian steps out. He turns right instead of left, the correct direction. He walks down to the door marked 32J, and waits for me to catch up and unlock it.
Sebastian isn’t supposed to know where my building is. He absolutely should not know which floor I live on. There’s no way he should know what apartment number is mine.
My hands are shaking so bad it takes me three tries before I manage to get the door unlocked. But when I walk inside, Sebastian does not follow.
“Aren’t you coming in?” I ask. My emotions are swirling all around. I feel like a hurricane from everything going on.
Sebastian shakes his head. “I can’t watch him kill you, Juliet. Even knowing you’ll come back, I just can’t take that. I’ll see you soon.”
He pulls my door closed, and through the door, I hear his footsteps retreat.
What the hell is going on? What was all that about?
I let out a heavy breath and walk into my apartment, dumping my things on the dining table. I squeeze my eyes closed with my hands braced on its surface. Knowing what’s about to come, I need to switch gears. Right now, I have to bring out my best acting skills.
The next five minutes are the longest in the history of mankind. But finally, I hear footsteps outside. I busy myself in the fridge, though I’m not really looking for anything. Everything from here until my death is an act.
He doesn’t knock. He pushes the door open, and I stand straight from behind the fridge door as Orlando lets himself inside.
“Roman’s not here,” I say, my tone casual but annoyed. I grab some string cheese from the fridge and peel the wrapper off. “It’s also customary here in America to knock before barging in.”
“I’m not here for Roman,” he says. His tone is low, slightly rough. The dark conflict in his eyes tells me that he truly wishes he didn’t have to do what is about to be done. “I came to tell youbravo.”
I pick off a strip of the cheese and put it in my mouth. If I’m about to die, might as well not do it hungry. I arch an eyebrow at him. “For what?”
“For some truly incredible acting skills,” Orlando says as he slowly walks through my apartment. “You watched me kill your supposed best friend, right in front of you. Yet you kept it together, knowing I was coming after Night Council members. When you yourself were just made one of them.”