Cruz finds me in the cage an hour after Briana disappears upstairs.I am not fighting, and that alone should concern everyone.
I stand in the center of the empty cage, shirtless, hands wrapped, staring at the dark stains on the mat that no amount of scrubbing ever fully removes.Blood leaves memory behind.So does fear.So does restraint, if a man has to use enough of it.
The door creaks open.“You’re brooding aggressively,” Cruz says.
I don’t turn.“Go away.”
“I can’t.Ari sent me.”
“That should make you want to go away more.”
“She threatened me with glitter.”His face shows the degree of revulsion he feels at the mere thought of being glitter bombed.
I grunt.
Cruz steps inside and closes the cage door behind him.He doesn’t come too close.He knows me better than anyone.He can read the tension in my shoulders, the way my hands flex, the way my breathing is too steady to be calm.
“You’re telling her tonight,” he says.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I look at him then.“That’s all?”
He lifts both hands.“Do you want me to be difficult?I can circle back.”
I face the far wall again.“She asked what she is to me.”
“And you didn’t answer.”
“I said tonight.”
“Very dramatic.”
“I didn’t want to do it with everyone watching.”
“That’s the least stupid thing you’ve said all week.”He nods, agreeing with himself.He shrugs.“Low bar.”
Silence stretches between us.Above us, the bar slowly comes alive.Staff arrive.Chairs scrape.Ari’s voice cuts through the ceiling, bright and sharp.Somewhere in the building, Briana moves too.I tell myself I don’t know that.I tell myself I have not learned the weight of her footsteps.
Cruz leans against the cage wall.“You’re afraid she’ll hate you.”
“Yes.”
“You’re afraid she’ll feel trapped by the bond.”
“Yes.”
“You’re afraid she’ll choose you because fate did before she did.”
My hands curl.“Yes.”
Cruz nods slowly.“Then tell her that too.”
I breathe out through my nose.“You make it sound simple.”
“It isn’t simple.It’s true.”
