My eyes flutter closed when she starts rambling about her classes and summer break, and I just take in the familiarity of her voice. She knows the simple conversation is soothing the worst of the quakes in my chest. It’s mostly surface-level nonsense, but it’s simple, normal, almost routine, which gives me something to focus on besides the unpleasant afternoon.
The front door downstairs suddenly slams hard enough to shake the whole house. Before I have a chance to get up to see why doors are slamming, Qi comes crashing into my room without knocking.
It’s so unlike Qi to enter a room without knocking, especially someone’s bedroom that isn’t his, that the oddity of his doing so and the noticeable panic on his face are all it takes for me to know he knows Kingston is here. I assumed he’d learn quickly if Kingston is already on the football team since the cheerleaders practice on the same field.
“Qiang, are you okay? Ran into Kingston of all fucking people, and he said he’d already bumped into you earlier, and I was afraid of what he might have done. Did he hurt you? Is that why you’re in the bed like that? Oh my god, what did he do? Tell me now, and I’ll go findhim and kick him some more!” he rants out breathlessly and starts fussing over me because I’m still lying in bed.
“Qi, calm down, I’m fine. And what do you mean by kicking him some more?”
Qi’s face changes from worried to guilty at the question, and my stomach flips again. At least it’s too empty now to have me back in the position Natasha found me in earlier.
“I may have lost my temper a bit when I saw him here,” he admits with a guilty as fuck expression on his face.
Panic coils in my gut at the revelation, remembering the cost of keeping Qi out of trouble the last time he lost his temper on Kingston, and dreading the thought of him ending up back on Kingston’s father’s radar again.
“How bad?”
Qi shakes his head. “Nothing like last time. The football team broke it up before I could do any actual damage,” he says with an almost regretful tone.
I don’t know if the tone is because he lost his temper, or if he’s upset they broke up the fight before he could actually hurt Kingston. Knowing Qi’s temper when it comes to Kingston, though, I feel it’s safe to assume it's the latter.
“Qi, you can’t keep doing that. You don’t understand the damage Kingston and his dad can do to you if they push back.”
Qi purses his lips before shrugging. “Nothing happened to me last time.”
Only because I had enough leverage to stop them from hurting you.I don’t say that out loud, though, because Qi doesn’t know that, and there’s no reason for Qi to know about that. He doesn’t need to share my nightmares.
“You can’t expect them to be as magnanimous now that you’re an adult; you’re lucky nothing came out of it the first time it happened. Remember the kind of people you are dealing with and behave. Please? For me?”
Qi lets out a heavy sigh before nodding. “Yeah. Tristan said thesame thing on the way home, too. Although if they did come after me, then I’m sure Tristan would–”
I interrupt him because I know what he’s about to say, and while I know how much he dislikes Kingston, I know that when he takes time to reflect on his thoughts and actions where Kingston is concerned, he’s regretful of them.
Like right now, he’s almost resentful about not being allowed to kick him some more, but he’s also spent the last four years deeply regretting losing his temper the first time around. And I know how much he dislikes people who use their money to escape the consequences of their actions, but he’s losing himself in his anger, and that will have him spiraling later when he realizes it.
“Is that the kind of person you’re becoming now, Qi? Is that who you want to become? Do bad things and then rely on others to bail you out?” I point out almost cruelly, not to hurt him, but to remind him of who he really is amidst the shock of Kingston popping up out of nowhere and leaving him spiraling in his own way, too.
“This is Kingston we’re–” he trails off when he sees the expression on his face, and he looks away before shaking his head, tears prickling at his eyelids because I know he’s torn between his moral compass and his protective instincts. “No, it’s not. But I won’t stand by and let him hurt you again.”
I run my thumb across the top of his hand. “Let’s just keep our distance and wait to see if he actually tries. And maybe try not to keep assuming I can’t protect myself, too. I’ve been going to those self-defense classes for a while, too, you know. Might have even kneed him in the nuts earlier.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “Did you really? And why are you like that?” he asks, pointing to how I’m still lying back with almost no energy.
Truth be told, for the most part, I’m fine now. My stomach is a bit queasy still, and my head is still reeling. Mostly, though, I’m just tired from the shock and getting sick.
“Yeah, he got a little too close for comfort, so I kneed him and left.After that, I got sick, and Natasha helped me home,” I explained briefly, knowing that eventually Qi will drag as many details out of me as possible, but I just want to relax a minute before I relive it all again.
“All part of being Qiang’s personal therapist,” Natasha teases while looking over at Qi. “You must be the little brother Qiang talks about so much.”
Qi gives Natasha a funny look. “You’re Qiang’s personal therapist?”
And I close my eyes with more regret because I’ve been so focused on the bullshit events of today that I didn’t even realize Natasha is revealing a lie I’ve been spoon-feeding Qi for over four years.Shit
I vaguely hear Natasha’s amused chuckle when she responds to Qi’s inquiry. I mean, I had time to stop her from telling Qi the truth, but at this point, Qi’s not stupid enough to not put everything together anyway.
“I mean, they call me that, but I’m not an actual therapist, just a close friend with good ears,” Natasha says.
Qi frowns at her before turning to me with accusing eyes as she confirms that the therapist I told him I’ve been seeing for years to help me deal with all this shit was just a friend and not an actual professional.
