Page 127 of Nest of Thieves
Silence stretches between us, and the longer he goes without responding, the more the stupid organ in my chest fractures. I should have known better. I should have known I couldn’t trust this feeling. Every time I’ve shown someone my true self, they’ve rejected it. My mother doesn’t even like me. Moisture pools in my eyes, but I force the tears back and dig my nails into my palms.
He doesn’t get to see me break.
He won’t break me.
I like Vette and Mac, but I won’t stay if this is how it’ll be with Lark. I want all of them or none of them. That’s the only way this makes sense.
thirty-two
LARK
Jo has two things right. I’m an asshole and I’m scared. Sadness taints her scent with whispers of bitterness. I’m tempted to pull the car over, but I can’t. It’s not safe until we’re home. I speed through the streets, reaching our house in record time. Before I can fully park inside the garage, Jo is up and out of the car.
Fuck.
Knowing it’ll only make me more of an asshole, I jump out and race after her. She sees me coming and slams the door to the house in my face. I simply wrench it open and run after her. She screams at me, the sound agonizing and deeper than any pain I could have inflicted.
Could I really have hurt her so deeply?
That sound...that’s the sound of someone who has been pushed to their limit. The sense of failure makes my steps falter and gives her time to race up the stairs. I clench my jaw, taking the stairs two at a time. I try her door, but it’s locked.
“Baby,” I say, voice hoarse with emotion.
“Don’t, Riku. You don’t get to call me baby.”
I deserve that.
I deserve that and so much more. I’m not worthy of her love, but damn if I’ll let myself hurt her like this. I should have talked to her sooner.
“Please.” I pound on the door with my fist. “Let me explain.”
The door opens a few inches, and Jo throws daggers at me with her eyes. “You don’t need to explain shit. I get it, Lark. I really do. You don’t want me. It’s fine. I don’t want you either.”
“Don’t lie to me,” I growl. “I want you.”
Her face contorts with fury. “Oh?” One word shouldn’t sound so threatening. Jo’sohis coated in poison and vitriol.
I place my palm on her door and force it all the way open.
She huffs and steps back, reaching for her gun. My heart leaps in my chest, but even that threat doesn’t stop me. She won’t kill me. Even if she did, I’d probably deserve it. I walk toward her, and she lifts the gun, the barrel directed straight at my heart. Her arms tremble for a millisecond before a familiar hardness and resolve grabs hold of her. Jo’s used to doing what needs to be done.
I keep walking until the gun presses into my shirt. “Kill me.”
She scowls. “You want me to?”
“If it’ll make you feel better.”
Adjusting her grip, she considers it. I watch her mind process through what that might do. What it would mean when Mac and Vette got home. How it would change everything. I hold my breath, a sliver of doubt racing up my spine.
Will she?
“Don’t look so scared,baby.” Jo lowers the gun and places it on the desk. “I’m not going to kill you. You’re not worth it.”
I grab for her, but her palm cracks across my cheek hard enough to whip my head to the side.
“Don’t you dare touch me.”
I nod and drop my gaze to the floor. “Fair enough.”
