I’m losing control. Feeling too many emotions incapacitates me.
“You can’t what, Oakley? What’s going on? Talk to us. We can help,” Jazz says quietly, but his voice is like nails on a chalkboard, and I flinch.
All the people in the diner are carrying on their own conversations. My enhanced hearing allows me to hear the couple in the corner fighting over bills again.
“No, I told you not to spend that money because we have to pay rent. What are we going to do now?”
“It’s a hundred bucks. We’ll be fine.”
“We are short five hundred instead of four now. I’m sick of this life. I’m sick of you not taking it seriously.”
Sweat forms on my forehead and drips down my temples as another conversation cuts through the noise from another table.
“I think we should break up. This isn’t working.”
“What? What did I do? What can I do? Don’t do this to me. Don’t give up on me. Let me try. Let’s figure this out.”
And another.
Only this time, Nariko’s name leaves another man’s lips, and I hate how it sounds. How dare he speak her name when it doesn’t belong to him?
I focus on him, his voice, his emotions, and what I feel has me sitting up straighter. The pain is still there; the agony of not having her in my arms is a live wire in my bones. An awareness I know I’ll always have for her.
He hates Nariko. His emotions are vile; his hate for her runs so deep, it burns like acid, eating away at my blood.
“We will do everything we can to stop Nariko and her damn Dust Bunnies. I don’t care what it takes. Give me the knife, Ray.”
“No, fucking way. I’m not getting involved in your bullshit. If you want it done, you fucking do it, Evan.”
I’m out of the door so fast, I’m nothing but a brisk breeze and a curious thought as I sprint by customers.
“What is it?” Westin is next to me, and Jazz takes my other side.
I focus, wading through the emotions and doing my best not to focus on Nariko. She’s always there now, a constant shadow in my pulse.
There’s a break in the rain, and a slight drizzle is all that falls into the pothole puddles that are in the parking lot. Two bright pink vehicles to the left have the Dust Bunnies name in big block letters on the side. Those vehicles belong to my mate and her crew.
I dislike how a group of men is standing too close to their cars.
I snarl, and Westin’s hand flies to my chest to stop me when I take a step.
“Get your hands off me, Westin,” I warn, every word more lethal than the last.
“You can’t go making a scene, Oakley. Do you already want to jeopardize your relationship with your mate? She doesn’t need to see?—”
He’s interrupted when Nariko and her crew come flying out of the diner.
“Get the hell away from our cars, Evan!” Nariko yells, her shoulder bumping into my back as she pushes by me.
I grin, loving how strong and feisty she is.
“Just wondering when you’ll move these pieces of bubble gum to the junkyard to make room for real storm chasers, Nariko.”
My claws break the skin as I curl my fingers into my palms, still hating how he says her name. I want her name to belong tome.
“Says the guy who can’t seem to find north without following me.” Nariko and her friends stop in front of the all-male storm team. “Face it, Evan. You’re nothing but a jealous, envious, seething asshole with wishful thinking because no matter how hard you try, you’ll never be as good as us. We have proved it over and over again. Your fragile masculinity can’t handle that we are better than you. The sooner you realize that, the easier your chances will be at finding a career where you’ll be actually good at something.” She points a finger in his face, getting closer with every word she spews.
Jazz doubles over laughing. “I think she’s got it handled, Oklahoma. She doesn’t need saving.”
