Page 191 of Tangled Like Us
I grip the sink’s ledge. “Is he going to be a problem?”
Farrow eyes me up and down. “I’ll let you know when I know.”
He’s not sure yet.I nod once. And I splash more water on my face before shutting off the faucet. My heart rate is starting to slow. I dry off my forehead and jaw using the hem of my shirt.
Farrow goes to the fridge and tugs a water bottle out of the door. He extends the drink to me. Like I once tried to do for him in Greece.
I take the water and nod in thanks.
“What helps you?” Farrow asks me, vague. We’ve been vague about PTSD.
“Water on my face should be enough.” I unscrew the bottle. “You said yours is triggered by rain?”
He kicks back against the closed fridge. “Yeah, but it’s been better.” He pauses. “Is yours frequent?”
“No.” I swig the water, coolness rushing down my throat. “I haven’t had a nightmare in a while.”
“It kicked your ass awake?”
I meet his eyes. “Like a hammer to the skull.”
He nods a few times.
We exchange this look that reaches into me. Acknowledgement. AnI understand youandI’m here.Something that I’ve never shared with Farrow face-to-face.
SFO is a brotherhood. More than any other force.
After hurting him, I’ve wanted to be deserving of it. Can’t say that I am, can’t say that I’ll ever be—but I won’t retreat.
I hold his gaze. “I stuck a fucking thorn in your side.”
“No, you were the thorn,” he says matter-of-factly. “And being honest, I didn’t know what Jane saw in you. I didn’t think you’deverbreak a rule to give her what she wants and needs, and the fact that you did—it makes you someone I don’t mind hanging around.”
I nod slowly, realizing this fucking whole time, he would’ve appreciated mebreakingthe “don’t fuck your client” rule. For Jane.
I cap the water bottle, my eyes narrowed at the reality. With the looming breakup, it’ll all reverse. Like I never broke the rule to begin with.
Farrow checks the oven clock. “And you broke her little 3 a.m. get-the-fuck-out rule.”
“Accidental.” I set the water bottle on the counter. “Don’t go buying me a fucking round.”
“Man, you don’t have to worry that I will.” He pushes away from the fridge. “I only buy rounds for broken hearts.”
I open my mouth to speak—acrashthunders from upstairs. Shaking the kitchen. Like a body just hit the ground. We don’t wait for the vibrating to stop.
We bolt. As fast as our fucking feet can carry us. Concern detonating a strong force inside of me. Fear hyper-focuses me. Four souls upstairs. Jane, Sulli, Luna, Maximoff.
Jane.
Jane.
We don’t call out to them.
In case someone broke in without setting off the alarms, wecan’tyell their fucking names and give our positions away. We’re already risking being heard as we race up the old stairs. I’m out in front of Farrow.
Adrenaline pitching my pulse. Her name is a scream caged inside me.
Maximoff is running down the stairs from the attic. Towards the second-floor. Where the girls are.
