She doesn’t spare me a second glance as she hurries away, her head lowered, her pace brisk. I watch until she turns a corner before I lean against my door with a sigh, thunking my head against the wood.
Fuck.
“This can’t be healthy for her.”
I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of Zane’s voice. I hadn’t even realized he’s been nearby, watching the entire exchange like the crazy stalker he is.
He frowns after her now, a tiny crevice materializing between his eyebrows.
“She’s pushing everyone away,” he continues. “She spends all her spare time training to fight or researching POP or peppering Raymond with questions about Aria. I’m worried about her.”
It’s weird as fuck to hear Zane sound so serious—a testament to how anxious he must be over Ellie’s behavior.
“What do you suppose we do? Get her to see a goddamn therapist?” The mere idea is laughable, though it has been brought up more than once.
Zane shrugs a single shoulder. “Fuck if I know. I’m certifiably insane. My last two therapists quit the field altogether.”
“I thought you hid in one of their trunks and whispered to him whenever he drove anywhere until he thought he was going crazy,” I remind him.
Zane waves a dismissive hand in the air. “You have your hobbies, and I have mine. That’s not important. Whatisimportant is getting Ellie the help she needs.”
“Like a goddamn intervention?” I ask, incredulous.
Zane’s nose crinkles. “She might punch us in the face if we did that.”
A grin threatens to break free. “Yeah. She’s gotten pretty good at punching.”
“And stabbing,” Zane adds, pride glimmering in his dark eyes. “Can’t forget stabbing.”
“Who could possibly forget stabbing?” I parrot dryly.
Zane, obviously, doesn’t hear my sarcasm. He just continues to nod and smile.
Then his lips wilt at the edges, a somewhat familiar darkness flicking across his face.
“She’s going to be okay…right?” The question is tentative. Hesitant. I’m not sure if he actually wants me to respond or not. I can tell a part of him fears my answer and the ramifications behind it. I don’t blame him. That same question has plagued me for weeks.
And yet…
“Yeah.” I nod, knowing that what I said is the truth. Shewillbe okay. We’ll make sure of it.
We’ll kill and die for this girl.
How hard will it be to get her to smile again?
4
ELLIE
Sweat cascades down my face and burns my eyes as I stealthily dodge Ryker’s attack.
“You’re going easy on me,” I accuse, crouching into a ready position and lifting my hands to block his next blow.
It comes and, predictably, barely grazes me.
Despite the fact we’ve been practicing for over an hour, Ryker has barely broken a sweat, even dressed in a heavy gray hoodie and sweatpants. I, on the other hand, am drenched in sweat, my cheeks no doubt a vibrant shade of red.
He smiles at me, but it’s more a baring of teeth, his ice-blue eyes crystallized shards in his tan face.
