Nick

“Dad, please. Just … another couple hundred bucks.”

Worried seemed to be Roz’s default expression these days. Especially now, and every other time she had to call and beg her father for money. Our survival out here kind of depended on it. I hadn’t had the nerve to reach out to my own family yet and I was sure that, when I did, they’d have one thing to say:

Come home.

Only … home wasn’t an option right now, and honestly, it may never be.

Flipping through channels helped keep anxiety at bay while Roz pleaded with her father. Every commercial was either an advertisement for jewelry or sites for ordering flowers online. We were creeping up on Valentine’s Day, which meant we’d been away from the facility for five weeks now.

Away from friends.

Away from family.

… Away from reality.

I’d done things I wasn’t sure I could come back from; things I wasn’t sure I’d be forgiven for. In short, I hurt a certain girl I never meant to. The nature of me and Evie’s relationship had changed drastically. We were nowhere near romantically involved at this point, but I still felt something for her. Respect, concern, and now guilt for what I’d done.

For what I cost her.

Late that infamous night, before Roz snuck down to my cell, she’d gone to my room. Not realizing what had taken place several floors below with the witches, she got tired of waiting for an update and headed for my sector. She thought I’d returned without bothering to come to her room like I promised. When she got to my quarters, she overheard a conversation that led to a haphazard chain of events—her knocking one of our combat instructors out cold, freeing me from my cell, and, eventually, us breaking out of a facility built to be inescapable.

She had no choice.

During the conversation Roz overheard, certain phrases were used. Phrases that struck fear in us both.

Reckoning.

Exile.

It was also during this conversation that Roz learned the part I played in injuring Evie, about the witches and how my summoning them led to her being permanently separated from her family.

That part, whether I realized it at the time or not, was on me. My actions led to Evie having to intervene; led to her chances of breaking the spell the witches cast being ruined.

Her back was against a wall. I inadvertently made her choose—let Liam die, or forfeit a future with her family.

She chose.

The decision to seek out the witches for help was made during one of my dark moments. Agreeing to their terms happened during an even darker one. But my emerging nature was no excuse. No matter how ugly my actions, my choices, they were mine and I had to own that.

Whatever fate lie ahead for me, it would be fair.

I hadn’t laid eyes on Evie since seeing her distraught and broken in Liam’s arms—covered in blood, screaming as she mourned the loss of her parents. Fearing for Liam’s life turned her into a savage, a one-woman killing machine as she slaughtered three powerful witches I’d just watched bring Liam to his knees.

But not Evie.

There was no fear as she took the three out one-by-one, canceling their plans to end Liam.

Canceling mine.

She hated me now. I knew that without even having to look into her eyes to confirm.

Why wouldn’t she?

It wouldn’t matter to her that I had no idea those witches were important to her in some way; no idea she needed them. It was all just one, big misunderstanding.

Or, at least that’s what I kept telling myself.

But Evie wasn’t the only one thoroughly disgusted by my actions. Over the last five weeks, Roz only spoke to me when she had to. It was clear that, running away with me only meant she didn’t want to see me locked up forever or worse. It didn’t mean she no longer thought I was infallible.

It seemed she finally believed my warning, that a monster dwelled within. But, now that she’d been convinced, I hated it; hated seeing the disappointment in her eyes whenever she looked at me.

I used Liam as a bargaining chip. I should be ashamed of how easy it was to say yes when Scarlet made her terms clear. All she wanted in return for helping me, was him. His life. And I handed him over willingly.

He’d been a thorn in my side since before I even realized he existed. Before he was on my radar, he was definitely on Evie’s. He was the reason she could never really let go and give in to whatever we had, whatever we might have become. Even when she was with me, she wasn’t really with me; her thoughts were always someplace else. Only, I didn’t realize where at the time. Part of her was tied to him, or, in her words, tethered to him.

The problem ran deeper than my ego being bruised; deeper than me not ‘getting the girl’. Once, not so long ago, I loved her, but I was the only one that seemed to matter to. She tried denying her feelings for Liam—to me, to herself—but at the end of the day, whatever hold he had on her was stronger than any words or any actions I could’ve put into the universe.

He won her heart.

And I hated him for it.

A heavy sigh, followed by a loud crash when the phone slammed against its cradle, meant the conversation hadn’t gone well. Roz sat back against the headboard of her bed opposite the nightstand between us. She stared at the ugly, paisley comforter that’d seen better days.

Consequently, those days were likely back in the seventies.

We’d hopped around from one seedy motel to the next, trying to sort things out. Trying to determine what our next move should be. Roz’s father, Officer Chadwick, had been our lifeline, the only one we’d been in communication with since breaking free from the facility. With no clue what the Elders or the Council would do when they found me, going home was not an option.

Well, it wasn’t for me, anyway.

Which was why I couldn’t understand why Roz hadn’t left. Every morning I awoke to see her sprawled out and snoring in her bed, I asked myself the same question: Why hasn’t she bailed yet?

The best meal we’d had thus far was when a diner up the road had half-off meatloaf dinners. Otherwise, the vending machines had been our go-to. We were broke, scared, and unsure of what would come next.

Reaching for the remote beside my leg, I turned the TV off before speaking.

“What’d he say?” I asked, as if I didn’t already know the answer. It’d been the same every week when she called and asked for help.

“He said for me to come home,” she replied with a now familiar chill to her voice. Of course he wanted her home. And he was right to say it.

“Roz, maybe you should listen to him. You don’t have to be out here roughing it like this. You’re not the one who messed up,” I added. “I am.”

Even before the incident with the witches, I managed to get myself locked in a cell because I did the one thing I’d been trying to avoid lately. I hurt Evie. Granted, it’d all been an accident, but, given her title, that didn’t matter a whole lot. Putting her in danger, injuring the rightful heir to the throne, came with consequences even if very few people knew her true identity. I was only aware because I put the pieces together on my own. Otherwise, she never would’ve trusted me with that kind of information.

Roz stood from her bed and began to pace slowly in front of the large window overlooking the parking lot below.

“We’ve already had this conversation,” she sighed. “I’m not going back without you. Technically, I’m the one who got us into this.”

“No, you’re the one who rescued me,” I corrected. “Truth be told, I have no clue what they would’ve done to me if I stayed.”

“And we have no clue what they’d do with you if you went back,” she countered. “Back to the facility, back to Seaton Falls.”

She fell silent then, and so did I. She was right; if the Elders had caught wind of my behavior, I could only guess how they’d deal with me. When I first shifted, my brothers made it clear how making waves within the clan was frowned upon. I knew death was on the table for any lycan who went without shifting for too long and eventually shifted without the ability to turn back. Who’s to say the same punishment didn’t stand for a lycan who couldn’t seem to control himself? A lycan who blacked out and woke up in strange places? A lycan destined to end the life of a girl they hoped to be their future queen?

Still, my life hanging in the balance didn’t have to mean Roz’s should, too.

“Call him back,” I asserted, making her steps halt.

“He’ll just say the same thing and I don’t want to hear it,” she said in a clipped tone.

I stood this time, taking the long, corded phone from the nightstand where she’d just slammed it down. When I stopped in front of her and held the receiver out, her eyes lifted to meet mine.

“Call and tell him to send you the money,” I clarified.

Frustration spread through her expression as she stared. “He made it abundantly clear he’s not sending anymore.” She crossed her arms over her chest, covering the words on the navy-blue t-shirt she bought at a gas station last week.

“He’ll send it because it’s not for the motel,” I assured her. “... It’s for a bus ticket home. Your bus ticket.”

She didn’t break her gaze and neither did I. Not even when her eyes pooled with fresh tears. Her lower lip trembled, but she stopped it by sinking her teeth into the flesh, proving this time on our own hadn’t broken her, hadn’t made her any less defiant. A trait I hated and admired all at the same time.

“Nicholas Stokes, if you don’t get that freakin’ phone out of my face, I swear I’ll shove it so far up your—”

Stepping closer, my presence quieted her. I looked her over. She’d gotten thinner since being on our own—something else for me to feel guilty about.

“Roz … you have to know I’m right.”

Glaring at me as the whites of her eyes shaded pink with frustration, she breathed deep. So deep her shoulders rose and fell with each surge of air she drew in. I wouldn’t back down on this. I wouldn’t let her suffer because of me. She deserved better, and even if she didn’t know it, I did.

“Call him. Please,” I urged.

A dark gaze focused intently on mine, leaving me to wonder what she was thinking. After mulling it over, she shook her head, and now I was the one frustrated.

“No,” she asserted. As pissed as she was at me, she wouldn’t go.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

She plopped down on the edge of her bed, an act of defiance. “I mean I’m not leaving you out here to fend for yourself. I mean I’m not gonna sit at home beating myself up for not sticking it out just ‘cause it’s not easy, wondering if you’re still alive.”

I stared at her as she stared out the window.

I hadn’t quite figured her out completely, but what I did know about Rozalind Chadwick was that she was stubborn as a mule, the smartest person I’d ever known, and she was loyal almost to a fault. Like now, she could hardly stand to look at me, but it was still evident that she cared.

I took a seat beside her and stared out the window, too. With a heavy sigh I accepted that I’d never change her mind.

“Well, what next?”

She shrugged and it never ceased to amaze me that, even when she was visibly worried, she kept her head.

“We’ve got fifty bucks left. That’s enough to grab a tent and a couple sleeping bags from the secondhand store. Maybe a few cans of beans from the market,” she suggested.

Apparently, we were about to take ‘roughing it’ to a whole new level.

There had been a knot in my gut for the last several weeks. One that grew and grew with each passing day, every time I dared to think back on my mistake.

“I’m sorry.” The words fell from my lips and landed at Roz’s feet. There were many I owed an apology, but I’d start with her. She put everything on the line for me. Not because she agreed with my choices or thought I deserved saving.

But because she was a good friend.

Her eyes strained red as she continued to fight back tears. However, instead of saying she forgave me or even that she didn’t … she simply nodded, keeping her eyes trained on the paved lot outside.

The knot swelled again as I wondered if I’d lost her forever; if I crossed a line with her I couldn’t recover from.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” I said quietly, “please … just say it out loud.” She might not have known this, but I was begging, desperate for her to speak her mind so there might be a chance for us to move on. If she kept it bottled up, we’d never make any progress.

It didn’t matter that we sat hip to hip, breathing the same air. She felt so far away.

“Roz … please.” Now it was clear I begged.

A quiet breath entered through her mouth and exited through slightly flared nostrils before she spoke.

“I’m angry,” she fumed, breathing deep as a lone tear spilled over her lashes. “At you. At myself.”

My hands ached when the inclination to hold hers came over me, but I held back, refusing to interrupt while she vented.

“I’m pissed that you’re so blind.” Frustration marked her expression as she went on. “All this time, you’ve been so worried about becoming a monster, that you’d become the thing that would eventually hurt Evie, but somehow you managed to miss the fact that hers isn’t the only life that counts, the only one that matters.”

I lowered my head, letting that sink in, imagining how weak I must seem to her.

“And, okay, you hate Liam. Big friggin deal. There’s still zero excuse for what you did.” She paused and I held my breath when a fresh wave of disappointment swept over her. “I had no idea you had it in you to do something like that. But I guess that’s my fault because you tried to warn me. I just …” Her voice trailed off and I felt sick.

Kind of like a guy who’d just let his friend down.

“You’re forgetting he’s wanted me dead since the first time he laid eyes on me,” I reasoned.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I shouldn’t have made excuses, but I was desperate to justify what I’d done. Not for me. For Roz. So she wouldn’t always look at me like she did now.

“And yet … you’re still here. He’s never actually tried to take you out, Nick.” The tone she took made me feel small. “But this isn’t about Liam.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “This is about me knowing you’re better than this.”

I let that settle in, really gave her analysis some thought. And the conclusion I reached was that I definitely wasn’t as good as she thought I was. If I had been, we wouldn’t be hiding out, jumping from motel to motel, begging her father for money. But I couldn’t take back the things I’d done. The only thing in my power was to try living up to the standard Roz once thought I met.

I guess what it came down to was … I wanted to be better.

For her.