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I gave her my back, graduating to throwing doors open. When I reached the final door in the hallway, I found it locked.
Bingo.
I released the door. “Farrow.”
I could break it clean off its hinges if I wanted to. Normally, I would. Strangely, with Octi, I wanted her to let me in. To invite me into her domain.
“Jerk,” she greeted from behind the wood.
She sounded fine. Calm and casual.Brave.
I pressed my forehead to the door, closing my eyes. Her voice alone soothed my fucking soul. And that was a problem.
A big one.
“Open the door.”
“I’m not even opening a can of tuna for you to slit your wrist with. Try again.”
“Let me rephrase—open the door or I’ll kick it down.”
So much for wanting to worm my way back into her good graces. My body hummed—one part rage and two parts desperation. She needed to open up.
Now.
“You can do that.” The sound of a drawer opening filled the space. “I’m as good with a knife as I am with a sword.” On cue, somethingthunked. Like a blade hitting wood. “Fuck around and find out, Sun.”
Despite myself, a smile tipped my lips up.
She was a one-woman army, and I admired that.
I leaned a shoulder against the door. “You threw away fifty-thousand dollars’ worth of shoes, young lady.”
She yawned. “You had someone put them back in my walk-in closet.”
“How do you know?”
Was I that predictable?
Silence met my question.
Another beat passed before she answered, with obvious reluctance, “You always take care of me.”
“Yet, you ran away.”
“Bitch, I drove. Under the speed limit, too. Don’t give yourself so much credit.”
“Open up.”
“Shut it down.”
I fought a smile.
“Tell you a fun fact about the octopus?” I bargained.
Silence.
I took it as my cue.
