Page 152 of Bring You Back

“What the fuck, Reyna,” Julian chides at the same time Banks gives a shocked, “Whoa.”

Julian’s arms slip from around my waist, knowing this will all be worse for him if he doesn’t let me go now.

“You didwhat?” I say, trying to hold on to any and all composure I have left so I don’t charge at her without having answers. She fucking came back over just tolet her go? “She wasn’t held captive, Reyna!”

“I just took a page from your book,” she says, and my thoughts stall at the words, the malice on her tongue, in her stare, in her actions. I step forward, closer, and see Julian move in my periphery, ready to pull me back again. But it’s not necessary now. Unlike with Banks, I have a need to understand what the hell is going through Reyna’s head.

“I never tookanythingfrom you,” I say, a rebut and a jab all in one.

“You tookyoufrom me,” she says back, a glimpse of the Reyna I know, her earlier steady tone cracking. “You always tookyoufrom me. And I gave and gave, so much of myself, and you didn’t even want me.”

“That’s not entirely true,” I find myself saying, my thoughts trying to process through the red, the tension still in my body, but she’s not here to listen.

“You’re a terrible friend,” she accuses, and my eyes narrow.

“You’re not Little Miss Perfect here, Reyna,” I fire back, the fact that I even have to remind her of that in the wake of what she’s done is comical. She’s making her problems a mountain. Acting on her emotions, like always.

“How awful of me to try to make you a better friend.”

“You’re the only one who has a problem with my friendship.”

“Because I’m agirl,” she throws at me. “A gender you think you’re above, even though it’syours, too.”You’ve got to be kidding.“Girls don’t like you, Camille. Because you don’t know the first thing about how to be friends with one. And what’s worse is you don’t care. You care about so little, and I’d rather care about it all. I’d rather caretoo much,” she spits, a mocking of my own words to her. “I’d rather be me than you.”

I cross my arms, not letting her dissecting words touch me, my focus on the last. “It took you a day to figure that out?”

She shakes her head at my jab toward her no longer trying to be my mirror. “I can’t do this anymore.” She looks past me to Julian, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You’re right. I deserve better.”

My breathing turns heavy again, my heart pounds, and Julian takes my hand, sliding his free arm around my now shaking body to rest around my stomach. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m being split open as much as Reyna’s been, but I can finally see how much she’s hurting, how much I’ve hurt her. But I can’t forgive this. For her to hurt badly enough to go this length—I understand that kind of pain, but it shouldn’t compare. This is more, worse than anything I’ve ever said or done to her. Worse than anythinganyone’sever said or done to her. The punishment doesn’t fit the crime.

Reyna still got what she wanted. I’m betrayed, hurt, angry. Just like her.

She wins.

The front door closes and a blink clears my vision, a stream of tears touching my cheeks.

Julian pulls me against him and I cry into his shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

“She let her go,” I grieve into the fabric and he holds me tighter, whispering more apologies into my hair.

“Yeah, I’m done, too,” Banks announces.

“What?” Julian questions, his tone distant.

I hear shuffling behind me, Banks’s voice farther back as he says, “I’m with Blondie.” Julian must make a face, because Banks adds, “Yeah, it doesn’t feel too good when someone doesn’t take your side, does it?”

I imagine Julian not taking Banks’s spew seriously as I break down against him, as the guest room door closes behind us.

Julian

I’m closing Camille inside her room to give her a moment to herself she’d asked for when Tommy arrives, here five minutes after I’ve called him. He wastes no time meeting me right here in the hall.

“What happened? Why can’t you find her?”

I skip the first question because I already told him what happened—whether or not he wants to believe me. “She’s not at her usual places,” I answer simply. I had Banks check around for Reyna—convincing him that the search was for her since he’s onher side—not long after she walked out like her work here was done. She delivered her reason, saw the results she wanted. I wasn’t leaving Camille, not in her current state. And after what Reyna has done, trying to make things right with her is not at the top of that list right now. Saving our friendship is a lost cause now.

Still, despite everything, I care about her. Reyna’s not herself. And considering I know what people are capable of when they’re not themselves—whatReynais now capable of—I’m worried.

“Did you look yourself?” Tommy asks with the same skepticism I heard over the phone, questioning my decision, questioning Banks.

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