Page 245 of Jagged Souls
“What would we even talk about? I’m almost double her age.”
“Twenty-six to her sixteen is hardly double –”
“Fucking close enough.”
“– and by the time she’s of age, you’ll be thirty-two. Half plus seven. You’re fine.”
“Well, what if I’m gay?”
A half-sob, half-laugh breaks out past my lips. He said that as if he really thought I didn’t know. Everyone in the family knows. We knew since he was five. Though, in truth, he knew we knew, but whenever he got annoyed, whatever he thought, he signed.
“Would you rather marry Vlad?” I ask in exasperation, wanting to get back to my wife.
I wish I spent more time with him. I never even asked about him and Vlad. I didn’t care then. I didn’t know if his feelings were serious. I should’ve asked. I should’ve taken the fucking time to ask.
And now I can’t.
Because he’s gone.
And I’m never going to hear his hands again.
Strong arms wrap around me as I sit on the ground and shake. The smoke is gone. The bubble is gone. I feel so damn exhausted.
So empty and hollow.
“That’s it. Just breathe. Feel the ground. Smell the air.”
I feel him. Notice the sickly smell of my sweat.
Ground myself in his arms around me.
Ground myself and remember why I lost control in the first place.
“I hit her,” I rasp. “Where is she?”
I need to find her. To apologize and explain.
“Just take a moment. You’ve had a panic attack.”
I shove him off me.
“Good rest,” he says dryly as I pull on the blood bond to find her. She’s heading back to the fucking warehouse.
I slip my phone out of my pocket and dial the manager there. He’s to let her in, then lock her in the office after he takes out all the V.
She’s pissed as all hel when I arrive, but at least she isn’t high. I open the door, then dodge the book she throws at my face.
“I’m surprised there’s a book in here,” I say. Ezriel isn’t big on reading physical copies.
The words take her off guard, just like Maddox’s fingers did to me, but instead of being annoyed I distracted her from her rage, her face twists in pain, and she sits down heavily in Ezriel’s chair. My throat tightens as I turn to the book on the floor. Squatting down, I pick it up and fix its crumbled pages. Talon might have turned traitor and set up my girl to take the blame, but he was still my brother.
I walk slowly over to her, collecting my thoughts, then place the book on the desk.
I start to tell her I’m sorry before I recall how she reacted to that phrase. The panic in her eyes, the self-disgust. I want to ask her to exchange more blood for the blood bond so I can feel what she’s feeling and better navigate this difficult conversation, but I don’t want to push her.
If she doesn’t want to be tied to me… If she doesn’t want to bond with me anymore… I want that to be her choice.
And besides, my emotions are so fucking crazy right now that combining them with hers and making us both feel everything would be relationship suicide.
