CHAPTER 28

A Brief Interlude

 

 

I GLARED up at the stars while I lay on the grass in the secret garden.

“You’re fucking jerks,” I told them all. “Seriously. What the hell.”

The stars didn’t reply. But then, they were stars, so. Pretty much expected.

They still twinkled like assholes, though.

“I hope you all blow up. You know what? You probably are already blown up and it’s just taken your light thousands and thousands of years to reach here. So ha fucking ha. You’re dead now and all I’m seeing are your last gasps.” I sighed. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

Because it was. It wasn’t their fault Ryan was getting married tomorrow.

It was Ryan’s fault. And Justin’s. I mean, who makes an oath to a prince to honor a dead and cherished mother?

Rude.

And very sweet. And beautiful. And lovely. And just like the selfless bastard.

But also rude.

I scowled at the sky.

“It’s cool,” I told the stars. “I’ll find someone else. And it’ll be awesome and I’ll be all, like, Ryan who? I’ve got a new cornerstone. His name is Juan Carlos and he’s an exotic accountant. Or something. Mental note. Think of better exotic jobs in the future. Like… actuaries. Dammit. Why can’t I think of something exotic off the top of my head? Exotic. Exotic. Go! Juan Carlos is going to be an exotic mortician!” I groaned. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Who’re you talking to?”

I squawked like an indifferently tall man.

Ryan laughed quietly to himself.

“Dude,” I sighed. “Seriously. The stalking.”

He stopped laughing. “I wasn’t. Not this time.”

I looked back up toward the stars and cursed them in my head. “So you admit to the other times.”

“Mostly.”

“You can’t mostly stalk someone. You’re either all in or not.”

“Ah. Well.”

“Stalker,” I muttered.

“Not this time,” he said. “I didn’t know you were out here.”

I snorted. “Yeah. Okay.”

“I didn’t. I just needed….”

“Needed….”

He sighed. “I needed to get away. For a little bit.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t want to hear this.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

The silence that followed was awkward. Him standing above me while I refused to look at him was awkward. Everything about this was awkward.

Of course, I couldn’t keep that to myself. “You’re awkward. This is awkward.”

“I know.”

“It’s like you’re my ex that I’ve seen for the first time since we had our really bad breakup.”

“Is that what it’s like?”

“Sure,” I said. “But it sucks because it’s like we’re exes without having any of the benefits of not having been something before we were exes.”

“Benefits?”

“You know,” I said. “Butt sex.”

He choked.

“Or other things,” I said quickly. “Because it’s not all about butt sex.”

“Thank the gods it’s just not all about butt sex,” he said faintly.

“But you see what I mean? Awkward, but no benefits of having gotten there.”

“I suppose that’s my fault.”

I laughed. “Yes. I suppose it is.”

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“I don’t,” I said. “And I don’t care to anymore. I’m done fighting. Aren’t you done fighting?”

He didn’t answer.

“I’m done fighting,” I said again. “Fighting you. Fighting for you. Fighting against you. I’m done. It makes things easier.”

“What things?” he asked quietly.

I raised my arm and waved my hand toward the stars. “This. These things. Everything.”

“That’s… all encompassing. As usual.”

“Like a tornado.”

“Uh. Sure? Are you drunk?”

“Not this time. Maybe tomorrow night. No offense, but Gary, Tiggy, and I will probably get drunk and besmirch your name a bit.”

He took a step toward me. I refused to look at him, but I could still see him in the periphery.

“Besmirch, huh?”

“So much besmirching,” I said. “You don’t even know how besmirched you’ll be.”

“I think I have an idea,” he said. “I traveled with you three for weeks. It’ll probably get a tad vicious.” He took another step. Like he was aiming for subtlety. Nonchalance. He was failing miserably.

And it was getting dangerously close to reminiscing again. That wouldn’t bode well for my Plan of Not Caring. Nothing ruins Not Caring like Willful and Fond Reminiscing. I hoped he hadn’t capitalized the plan in his head yet. “Eh,” I said. “I won’t let it get too bad. Maybe some choice curse words here and there but nothing too bad. I won’t hex you or anything.”

“Could you do that?”

“Probably. I don’t really know what I’m capable of anymore.”

“Lightning,” he said and took another step.

I sighed. “Yeah. I’ve been through worse. Randall just likes to try and get a rise out of me.”

“It looked like he was trying to kill you.”

“Nah. He knows I’d come back and haunt his ass. He wouldn’t dare.”

“What did it feel like?”

I was starting to get irritated. “Gods, sit down if you’re going to stay here. Stop hovering. You’re making it worse.”

“You aren’t going to run?” he asked, a light tease, and I had to remind myself that I didn’t care.

“You’re the one that’s been running lately,” I said.

That shut him up right quick. He sat down next to me, carefully maintaining a slight distance like I was a cornered, skittish animal. He huffed out a breath, then lay down on his back, looking up through the thin canopy of trees above.

And because I was probably a masochist, I asked, “You ready for tomorrow?”

I felt his eyes on me as he turned his head in my direction. “Are you serious?”

“What? I can’t ask questions?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t seem to know a lot of things.”

He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Gods, you confuse me.”

“Oh dear.”

“You infuriate me.”

“My bad.”

“Yes, Sam,” he snapped. “I’m ready for tomorrow.”

“Sounds like it.”

“You’re a dick.”

I laughed. “Yeah. I know. If you’d like, I can go back to pretending you don’t exist.”

“Would that be easier?”

“For who?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he said, “Did you ever think you’d get here?”

“Where?”

“Here. Where you are now. I… back in the slums, I always figured I’d stay there. I’d work there. That I would die there.”

“That’s… sad.”

“And yet that’s how it is for most people born there.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe. I spent a lot of time thinking of ways to get us out of there. Wishing for something to happen. I never thought I’d… well. I don’t know what I thought was going to happen. But no. I never expected this. To be here. Where I am.”

His arm brushed against mine, whether by accident or not, I couldn’t tell. But I had learned very quickly that very little happened by accident when it concerned Ryan Foxheart. “I never hoped,” he said. “I never wished. I never dreamed. Not until you.”

“Ryan—”

“Listen. Please, can you just listen?”

“I already know what you’re going to do. I can recognize the tone in your voice. I don’t need you to justify anything to me. I don’t want you to.”

“I’m not trying to justify anything.”

“Then what are you trying to do?”

“Have a conversation,” he said, pouting slightly. I refused to find it adorable.

“No,” I said. “You’re trying to explain yourself. Why you pledged your oath to Justin. You did it for your mother. You did it because you got out and she didn’t. You did it for her, because you thought that’s what she wanted for you, and you could never go back on your word because of how much you loved her. I get it, Ryan. I get it, okay? I know why you’re doing what you’re doing. I hate it, and I think I sometimes hate you, but I get it. I do. Okay? I promise. I do. If you need my blessing, have at it. It’s yours. Do what you have to, because in the end, you’ll have to live with yourself. Not me. Not Justin. Just you.” By the time I finished speaking, my voice was hoarse and my hands were shaking. I didn’t even have the sense to stop him when he reached over and curled his fingers in my own. His grip was tight and warm.

He tugged on my hand gently, but insistently. I turned over on my side as he was silently asking me to do, facing him. His position mirrored mine. His eyes searched my own. He opened his mouth once, then closed it. Then, “I meant what I said.”

“When?”

“When I told you that the only thing I wished for was you.”

“You bastard,” I whispered. He took our joined hands and brought them to his face. I felt the brush of his lips against my skin, and I fought against jerking my hand away. “Do you want to know what it felt like?”

“What?”

“The lightning.”

“I don’t—”

“It hurt. At first. It wasn’t like the first time when we were running from the Darks and the fire geckos. It was so easy then. So easy to take it in, wrap it around my heart, and then send it away. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t do it again. Why it wasn’t working.”

His face was so close to mine. I could feel his breath on my skin.

“And then something was different. Morgan and Randall knew why. I didn’t. Maybe I should have. I just felt it. In my bones. In my blood. It whispered to me and said that everything was going to be all right. That I could do this. That I could do what they were asking of me. And then Randall gave me more than he should have. Far more than I should have been capable of handling. But it didn’t matter because the moment it touched my skin, I knew it was different. That I was different. I knew I could do this. I knew what I was capable of. I took it in and it wrapped itself around my heart and it was scary and devastating and wonderful all at the same time. It felt of power and strength and I could have kept it there. No matter how much it hurt. I could have kept it there for myself. But it wasn’t mine to keep. It wasn’t mine to hold. So I let it go. I let it go and I didn’t understand. Why it felt so familiar. The electricity crawling along my heart. I didn’t understand at first. But I do now.”

“What is it?” he whispered.

“It’s you,” I said, not able to look away. “It’s how I feel when I’m with you. How I think I’ve always felt. You’re my lightning-struck heart. It doesn’t matter about the cornerstone. It doesn’t matter about who I am or who you are. Not to me. I think it would have always been this way for me. Even if we had never escaped the slums. Ever since the beginning. Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve struck my heart, and now I have to let you go because you’re not mine to keep. I need someone that I can be strong for. But I need someone who can also be strong for me.”

“Sam,” he croaked out, his eyes bright and wet.

And I’d said enough. I’d had enough. Much like Randall’s lightning had arced along my heart, Ryan did the same. The only way forward was to expel him from me because he wasn’t mine to keep.

And because I would never get another chance, I brought his hand to mine, brushing a kiss against his knuckles. I said, “I think I love you.”

I let him go.

I pushed myself up.

I looked up at the stars, but I did not make a wish.

And then I left him there in my mother’s secret garden.