Page 78 of The Vigilant

Sutton

Iturned my head, my heart in my throat, as a breeze swished through the trees that encircled the clearing in front of Tynan’s cabin.

To him who is in fear, everything rustles.Sophocles whispered in the back of my mind, and I let out a groan of frustration.

Two days was a long time to spend on edge. Waiting. Afraid. I flitted around the cabin, watching over Tynan while he slept—recovered. Unable to really sleep myself. The first night after the attack, I picked out a few books from his shelf that looked well-read; they were all writings of ancient philosophers. Stoic and broody and wise, just like Tynan.

When he was awake yesterday, I avoided conversation. I avoided the confrontation—the anger he must have for me. An anger that was justified. It wasn’t too hard. The meds he was on made him sleep a lot, and when he was awake yesterday, there was a revolving door of visitors to the cabin. First, his friends Harm, Rhys, and Dare stopped in, the four of themshowing a kind of “us-against-the-world” camaraderie I’d only ever experienced with Mara. Then, Dr. Nilsen came by.

I paid close attention there. How he checked the wound. What he put on it. He explained what to look for if something was infected and then showed me how to replace the bandage on the wound, informing me that he had to go into the city for another case tomorrow, and I’d have to handle this task. My heart thumped so loud it was almost impossible to hear his instruction over the idea that tomorrow—today—the hands on Tynan’s chest would be mine.

Creed had called as Dr. Nilsen was leaving. The apartment in the city was empty; Mara and whomever had been holding her there were gone. It was a blow, but not unexpected. Thankfully, Creed wasn’t deterred. He seemed like the kind of man who wouldn’t be deterred by a hurricane headed straight for him, and I appreciated that.

And later after that, Rob’s returned with dinner for the three of us. Pizza and a strained conversation about Carson and Shazad and heroin distribution. For most of it, I sat quietly and listened like a fly on the wall.

A fly who’d caused all this destruction. A fly who was furious at herself for putting people—the few people she cared about—in danger.

I was never one to run, but fighting was no longer an option. Fighting after what he’d done for me—risked for me—was impossible when he lay wounded because of me.Because I’d lied to him.

The grass flattened like fallen soldiers where I’d paced the same path, the overcast sky mocking the cloudiness of my situation. There was a storm coming, and I welcomed the release of energy, feeling my own bottled up with nowhere to go.

I struggled to wrap my head around the fact that my best friend had disappeared on her own quest for vigilante justice.Mara had never been the one to jump into danger or the first to throw a punch in a fight; that had been all me. But after I was gone…now, the restless tone in her letters seemed a little clearer. The urge to want to fight back like I had. Still, knowing the depth of danger she’d put herself in…the pure evil of these men Tynan was sure were involved…and how I’d only made it worse.

I tensed and my neck cramped, and I sucked in a breath of pain.Dammit.

Tynan almost died because of me. Mara could be dead because of me.Too many times over the last two days, it felt so hard to breathe, as though my lungs were collapsing in on themselves under the weight on my chest.

Never in my entire twenty-one years had someone stepped into the ring for me. Never had someone taken up my sword in a fight. Never, until Tynan.

I turned my wrist, no longer able to look at my tattoo without hearing his strained low rasp.My little wasp.My chest tightened so hard, air pushed through my lips in a small cry, my eyes burning with tears I still hadn’t been able to shed. From fear. From regret. From anger.

Hearing Tynan on the other side of the door fighting for me. Hurting for me. Helplessness choked the life from me, and I don’t think I took a full breath until I made it through that door. Until I barged in just in time to see him choose my life over his. And then when that life began to bleed out of him…God, he was so stupid to try to protect me.

Before this, it was easy to pretend it wasn’t real. That Tynan, like my father, was just one more hero who would disappear when I needed him most. But he hadn’t. He’d cared for me even when it cost him. When it cost him pleasure. When it cost him pain.When it almost cost him his life.

I couldn’t ignore that anymore. I couldn’t pretend it was a lie. And I couldn’t pretend I didn’t desperately want it—want him.

I spun when I heard the crash, my bare feet instantly crunching over the dried grass to get back inside.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, seeing Tynan standing at the counter, a black mug shattered on the kitchen floor.

“Getting a cup of coffee.”

“You should’ve asked me. I would’ve gotten it for you,” I scolded and went to the mess, collecting the broken ceramic pieces onto a towel.

I thought he’d move, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood over me, shirtless and wearing dark gray sweatpants.

After two days, I’d hoped his naked chest would be less of an attraction, but the novelty of it still hadn’t dulled. A good chunk of it was still bandaged—that was why he preferred to forgo a shirt in the first place; it made checking and changing the bandage easier.

“Like you should’ve told me the truth about Kang the first time I asked about him?”

I sucked in a breath, his question catching me off guard. It shouldn’t have. I knew this had to come sooner or later.

“I was going to handle it.”

Tynan’s gaze held me hostage, the pain and anger buried in their depths flaying me open like the sharpest knife peeling away my armor. He seemed even larger above me when he was angry.

“How? By making yourself a target?” His hand flexed by his side, and goose bumps skittered over my skin, recalling how that palm had landed on my ass and how those fingers had been inside me.

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