Page 80 of Mayhem

“When those people made you choose between protecting yourself and coming to me, who did you choose?” I asked.

Nichlas shook his head. “It wasn’t that simple.”

I pushed the tip of the knife into his side.

His entire body jerked. Blood gathered around the point as I pressed only far enough to break skin, and his hands closed around my wrist without managing to move it.

“It was exactly that simple.”

“They would’ve killed me.”

“And they nearly killed me instead.”

“I didn’t know that would happen.”

“You knew something could happen.”

He squeezed his eyes shut.

I moved the blade a fraction deeper. “Who did you choose?”

“I was scared.”

“That isn’t a person.”

Nichlas made a sound somewhere between a sob and a groan. I released his hair and shoved him forward, letting him catch himself with his hands before I kicked the back of his injured leg. He collapsed onto both knees, hunched over his damaged fingers and struggling not to put weight on them.

I circled until I stood in front of him. Blood was running down my temple where the rock had opened the skin, mixing with creek water along my jaw. My hands were scraped, my shoulder hurt, and the old scar along my side pulled every time I breathed too deeply after the chase.

Nichlas had given me that scar.

He had left me with something I could still feel years later and spent every conversation since trying to convince me that his intentions mattered more than the result.

I caught him beneath the chin and made him look up. “When I was bleeding on that sidewalk and you got into that car, who did you choose?”

His face broke apart.

“I didn’t want to die.”

“Neither did I.”

“I thought if I stayed they’d come back. I thought they’d kill both of us, and there was nothing I could do for you.”

“You could have stayed.”

Nichlas stared up at me, and for once I watched him run out of someplace to hide. No Quorum. No ledger. No complicated explanation of what he believed somebody else wanted. There was only the sidewalk and the moment he had looked at me before deciding his life mattered more.

“I chose myself,” he whispered.

I kept my hand beneath his chin. “All of it.”

His eyes squeezed shut again, and I dug my fingers into his jaw until he opened them.

Nichlas looked straight at me when he finally said, “I chose myself over you.”

Something inside my chest settled.

I released him.