Elise stares at me like she wants to believe it, but doesn’t know how.
“I don’t trust you.”
I nod. “That’s fine.”
“This whole thing is fucking crazy.”
“I know.”
She turns back to Ryan, who still hasn’t spoken. Still hasn’t blinked much either.
But they don’t get up.
I'm not the one who can win them over, not tonight. But I’ll keep them safe. Even if they never forgive me for it.
Brooke doesn’t say anything as she stands. She just reaches for my hand and gives it a small tug.
I follow her down the hall.
Her grip stays tight until we are out of view. She stops in the kitchen, by the sink.
I lean back against the counter. My head feels like a fucking war zone. My hands are still trembling and my jaw won’t unclench.
She turns to face me.
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“She should.”
“No,” She shakes her head once. “She’s terrified. And everything she believed just got flipped on its head.”
I laugh under my breath. It sounds wrong. “Yeah. Join the club.”
Brooke reaches up and touches the cut on my jaw. Her thumb skims the edge of a bruise I hadn’t even registered yet. “You okay?”
“You asking physically or…?”
“Don’t dodge it.”
I look at her. The lights are low, but I can still see the smudge of dried blood on her sleeve. Her eyes aren’t as panicked anymore. She has that calm again. That cold, steady survival instinct she leans into when everything else goes to hell.
“I don’t want them to see me like this.”
She frowns. “Like what?”
“Gun in my hand. Blood on my face. A killer.”
“You saved their lives.”
“I shouldn’t be the one who had to.”
Brooke steps closer. Her fingers slide down to my wrist. Her touch is grounding, but it doesn’t stop the spiral. Nothing can right now.
“I wanted to look at them and say something,” I admit. “Anything. But I couldn’t. It’s like, every time I opened my mouth, all I could think about was her. And how I was too fucking late.”
Brooke leans in until her forehead touches mine. “You’re not too late for them.”
I close my eyes.
