Page 166 of Ravaged Soul
“Hilarious.” I roll my eyes.
Tom whooshes out a breath. “Not funny!”
Resting a hand on the back of the sofa, he dips his head to drag a hand over his still-pale face. Despite being fit enough to leave the hospital, he still doesn’t look quite like himself. Part of me worries whether this will be the final straw for the sanity he’s managed to claw back.
Ember inches forward to touch his shoulder. “Please sit down. We can talk, but you should be resting up.”
“We are not discussing this!” Anger ripples across Tom’s features.
“Yes, we are. Now fucking sit.”
He baulks but slumps as the fight drains out of him. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
We end up seated on his two sofas, a fresh round of beers opened and Jamie’s chopping resumed to give us time to talk alone. Tom glares daggers at me across the drinks, making me feel like I’m at the world’s worst job interview.
I should’ve sent Hyland or Axel in here first. At least they could’ve taken the heat. Next to them, I’d look like a ray of fucking sunshine, saving Ember from the worst that Sabre Security has to offer.
“How long has this been going on?” Tom questions.
While I look down at my clasped hands, Ember doesn’t shy away from his interrogation.
“It’s complicated, but I’ve had feelings for a long time now,” she admits. “My relationships with the guys?—”
“The guys?” he repeats in a high-pitched chirp.
Ah, shit.
That skin-melting glower returns, aimed directly at me and dialled up to max. We’ve had our fair share of fallings out over the years, but Tom’s never looked at me likethatbefore.
“Guys… Plural?”
“Yes.” Ember’s head bobs in confirmation.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Tom points an accusatory finger right at me. “What the hell did you do to my sister?”
“Nothing!” I quickly raise my hands. “Not me personally.”
“It sure didn’t look like that from the security feed. You were seconds away from throwing her over your shoulder like some kind of caveman.”
“And if he was, so what?” Ember bats back. “I’m an adult. If I want to be with Warner, then I’m entitled to make that decision. Regardless of whether or not you like it.”
“He grew up with us, Em!” Tom protests indignantly. “He’s literally family.”
“So you know exactly what kind of person Warner is.”
“That doesn’t mea?—”
“Warner’s kind. Loyal. Empathetic. Loving. He’s honest and reliable. He cares about me and our team. He makes me feel safe, loved and welcome. Even in my lowest moments since returning home. What else could you possibly want?”
Stumped, Tom’s mouth slams shut. He looks down at the beer rolling between his hands, taking several seconds to mull over her words. In that time, I briefly consider whether running is a viable option. He’s in no shape to chase me.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Tom admits eventually. “And least of all by him. I can’t hate your asshole ex if he’s my best friend, Em.”
“What makes you think that I’d hurt her?” I challenge.
“Besides the fact that you have one of the most dangerous jobs in the whole country and could easily die at any given moment?” Tom pins me with a stern look.
