Page 112 of Tactically Acquired

“We’ve met,” I smiled, grateful that I wasn’t completely surrounded by men. “So, these are the men coming with us to California?”

Thumper nodded. “They’ll be working security with us.”

“And on that thrilling note, I think Audrey and I will leave you to it.”

Spencer grabbed my uninjured hand and tugged me to my feet. I already knew what was coming. I’d seen the look in his eyes since breakfast. I didn’t argue as he guided me out of the room and down the hall, closing the door behind us.

“Alright, lay it on me,” I sighed, slumping down on the bed.

“How’s your hand?” he asked, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

“It’s not bad. Hurts, but the salve is really helping with the pain. And IRIS gave me some medicine, so all in all, it could have been worse.”

I tried and failed to pull off a real smile. Spencer sat down beside me, his shoulders slumping as he took my hand in his. He turned it over, tracing his finger around the bandage.

“Audrey, that could have been so bad. What if?—”

“I didn’t see him turn on the burner,” I blurted out. “And I didn’t realize I was that close to the stove. It was a stupid mistake.”

“You need to be more careful. This isn’t going to get any better.”

Anger surged through me as he reminded me once again of how serious my condition was. “I know that. I’m reminded of it every day when I open my eyes and there’s a big blank spot where I used to see the world. I don’t need it shoved in my face!”

“Audrey, that’s not?—”

“You don’t have to deal with this,” I snapped. “I know you care about me, but it’s not you losing your vision. It’s me! Everything is crumbling beneath my feet, and there are going to be times I’ll make mistakes. I can’t be perfect like you.”

He flinched back as if I had struck him. God, my anger was so out of control right now. Spencer was nothing but good to me, and I was lashing out at him for pointing out the obvious.

“Spencer, I’m?—”

“It’s fine,” he said stiffly, getting to his feet. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

“That doesn’t excuse it,” I mumbled, already feeling the tears burning at the back of my eyes.

He tugged me against his chest, blowing out a long breath as he rested his chin on my head. “Hey, we all have rough days. You’re just having a few more of them at the moment than anyone else.”

“I didn’t mean it,” I repeated. “I know you’re only looking out for me. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

I looked up at him, taking a step back. “What?”

“It’s just…we both know every step of what’s happening and what will happen in the future. But you’re the only one going through it.”

“It’s not just me,” I argued. “You’re going through it with me. You’ve been there through everything, taking me to appointments and reading up on everything that?—”

“And maybe that’s the issue.”

My heart clenched at his words. I didn’t like where he was going with this. “What are you saying?”

He flinched at the anger in my voice. “I’m saying maybe it’s time you let someone else in. Someone who doesn’t know the outcome of every single thing you do. Someone who won’t remind you all the time of what could happen or what you should have done.”

“Spencer—”

“You should tell him.”

I already knew who he was talking about, but that was impossible. There was no way I would tell him something so personal when things between us were chaotic and uncertain.

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