Page 137 of Break Me

After a while, he speaks again, almost as though he's thinking out loud.

"Then we make the time count."

I turn toward him.

He's staring at the ceiling now, that familiar look settling over his face—the one that always appears when he's working through the impossible, turning it over until he finds somewhere to begin.

It's the same expression he wears in the garage when a bike arrives in pieces, and everyone else says it isn't worth saving.

"What does that look like?" I ask.

His eyes meet mine. "Whatever you want."

I can't help smiling. "You might regret saying that."

His smile grows, small but certain.

"Never."

Outside the window, the creek slips through the darkness, unchanged by everything that's happened today.

"I want to tell them tomorrow," I whisper.

He doesn't hesitate.

"Tomorrow."

Our fingers remain intertwined between us.

For tonight, that answer is enough.

Raven

The clubhouse feels the way it always has. Coffee that's been reheated too many times. Worn leather. The low drone of a college football game fills the room while late afternoon sunlight filters through the front windows.

For a second, the familiarity of it almost makes me forget why we came.

Almost.

Knox doesn't notice us at first.

He's stretched out on one end of the couch, a mug of coffee within reach and the remote balanced on his thigh, half-watching a college football game with the volume turned low.

The front door clicks shut.

He glances over, surprised to see us.

"Hey," he says. "Didn't expect to see you two."

His eyes move from me to Sam. Whatever he sees wipes the easy smile from his face. The remote lands on the coffee table as he sits forward, his forearms resting on his knees.

"What's going on?"

My chest tightens.

Sam's hand slips lower until his fingers find mine, weaving through them without a word.

I hold on.