“That what would stop me?” he growled, frustration—the first scrap of emotion—at last entering his tone. “And stop me from what?”
“From taking my soul,” I hissed.
“You’re not making any damn sense.”
“Your car,” I said. “That’s the only reason I can think of as to why you moved me out of the path of that train.”
He hit the brakes, which screeched, and we came to a jarring halt halfway down the thankfully deserted road.
That hooded head snapped my way, and in the darkness within, I glimpsed a faint impression of his face—his real one, the one without flesh, the one of bone—the one that seemed to glower at me with hatred.
But he still didn’t scare me.
Not because he wasn’t scary. Once again, he was.
It was just that I was tired of being scared.
Scared of dying. Scared of how. Scared of what came next.
Scared of what had happened to him. Of whatwouldhappen to me.
Scared most of all that he wasn’t going to come back.
And now that he had? Well, now I was scared that I loved someone who had, again, figured out too late that I was too much for them. Or not enough.
“You think,” he began, “that I came back… for the car?”
“You were supposed to let me die this time,” I said.
“You think,” he said, anger infusing his tone now, “that I got you off those tracks… to save The Judge?”
I blinked at him. “It wasn’t to save me. You weren’t supposed to do that this time. That wasn’t what we agreed on.”
He snapped his focus forward, like I’d cussed him out. Like I’d slapped him.
And we sat like that for several long moments before, wordlessly, he shifted the car into gear again and, once more, we started moving.
40GRIM
She was mad. And she had a right to be.
But not about what she was mad about.
At the same time, I couldn’t seem to make myself talk again—to apologize for leaving her on her own without a word, a phone call, a drop-by check-in.
An explanation…
Because this, her reaction, was exactly what I’d been hoping for. That she’d assume the worst about me and dismiss me. I’d been gambling with the hope, too, that she’d been right about something she’d said. That maybe the fate that I’d explained to her was imminent, the certain death I’d told herwascoming and the powers that be involved in it, had somehow changed their mind. Or even that, when I’d saved her the last two times, that had triggered a glitch in the “system,” allowing her to skate free.
None of that had happened. Fate had called again, summoning me to her side.
And now I had her well-earned resentment on top of the knowledge her number was still up.
Gripping the steering wheel tight, I ground my teeth and forbade myself from setting her straight. While I’d expected her to be madthat I’d vanished from her life entirely, and even that she’d figured I had better things to do, never once had it ever crossed my mind she’d assume I would save her to preserve a possession. An object. A car.
I couldn’t stand it. Even though, for her sake, I tried to.
“Grim,” Helena said as I kept my gaze steady on the road, my name coming out as a soft sob. “I’m sorry. I’m… still angry, but I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I’m… frustrated. I’m tired. Exhausted, actually. And, yeah, I’ll admit it. I’m deeply hurt. That probably doesn’t mean a lot to you. Who knows? Maybe I’m not even an anomaly. Maybe you have girls all over the world.”
