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That’s not living.
The words hit harder than they should, probably because I’ve known they were true for years. “I know.”
His eyes come back to mine, and something in them has me bristling anyway.
“You think I don’t fucking know that?”
His face softens immediately, but sitting still suddenly feels too difficult, so I push off the bed with the towel still clenched in one hand. “Do you know what happens when you live like that long enough? You stop buying shit you can’t carry. You stop making plans more than a few days ahead. You stop getting close enough to people that leaving them is going to hurt.”
I barely make it two steps before his hand closes around mine and stops me.
I stare down at our joined hands for a second before the rest finally comes out. “And eventually you stop wanting anything at all.”
Carnage rises behind me, close enough that I can feel the heat coming off him before I turn around.
My eyes burn, and I fucking hate that they do. “Because wanting something means someone can take it from you.” My fingers tighten around his. “And I got really fucking good at having nothing anyone could use against me.”
His free hand comes up, his fingers brushing carefully beneath my jaw until I finally look at him. There’s so much anger in his face, but none of it is aimed at me, and underneath all that fury is something that scares me a hell of a lot more.
He cares.
He actually fucking cares what happens to me.
“Then I came here,” I whisper, and his eyes hold mine like he already knows there’s more.
My heart starts beating harder. “And now I’m starting to want things again.”
Carnage goes completely still, and fuck, I hadn’t meant to say that part out loud. His thumb brushes once along my jaw, so gentle compared to the fury still sitting in his face that I can’t look anywhere except at him.
“That scares me more than the Conclave finding me.” His brow pulls tight, questioning. “Because I know how to run from them.” My fingers curl into the front of his shirt before I can stop myself. “I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with this.”
His eyes drop to where I’m gripping his shirt, then slowly lift back to mine, and the air between us suddenly feels a hell of a lot smaller.
He doesn’t move away.
Neither do I.
Then he reaches for his phone, one hand still resting against my jaw while his thumb flies across the screen.
DON’T RUN!
My heart gives one hard thud against my ribs. “Carnage…”
His jaw tightens. He deletes whatever he starts typing next, tries again, then turns the screen toward me.
LET US HELP.
Us.
That one little word hits me harder than I’m prepared for.
He isn’t asking me to stay for him or making promises neither of us knows how to keep. He’s offering me something I haven’t had in twelve years.
A choice.
And fuck if that doesn’t make it harder to breathe.
“You really think they’ll stop?” I ask quietly. “Because Thessaly made it pretty clear they’re coming back, Carnage. They’ve been coming back for twelve years.” His jaw tightens. “I know what happens when they find me.”
