Page 213 of What We Burn

“We’re doing it.”

“This Saturday?”

“This Saturday. Amy’s and my apartment.”

“We’re still calling it that? I thought you were fully loved up and moved in with your harem.”

“I’m staying at Holden’s for the time being. But nothing’s been made permanent there so I don’t want to assume—plus I’m still paying rent.”

“Fair. But for what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure your guys are keeping you.”

My cheeks heat and my smile gets even wider. “We’re supposed to be discussing pajama night, Jamie. Stop trying to derail me and squeeze info out of me about my sex life.”

He laughs. “Guilty. And also not sorry. I’m fascinated. Like, are they going to be there on Saturday, lurking in the hallway in matching tactical gear? Or will they get in the jammies and join in?”

“Oh my God. Could you imagine Knox in a onesie and a facemask?”

“I can. And I desperately want to be there to see it.”

“Sorry to disappoint. But they won’t be there. I’m negotiating terms.”

“Terms.” He grins. “You make it sound like a hostage situation.”

“You haven’t met Knox during a negotiation. The man treats a trip to the grocery store like a covert operation.”

“Last time I saw Knox, he stared at me for forty-five seconds without blinking. I thought he was going to eat me.”

“That’s how he says hello.”

“Terrifying. I loved it.” Jamie takes a sip of his coffee. “Seriously though, if your men want to join in, I really wouldn’t hate seeing them all in their pajamas—or without them.”

“Stop!” A giggle escapes at the thought as I shake my head. “They’re banned for the night. That was the deal—no surprise boyfriends, no random check-ins. Just me and my besties.”

Jamie lets out a melodramatic moan. “Rude. I mean, love you, bestie. But do you know how long I’ve waited to see Eli in lounge pants? Or Holden in something other than business casual? You’re denying me basic human rights. I had so many hopes and dreams.”

I laugh so hard my stomach hurts. The sound surprises me because it comes so easy now. A few months ago, laughing felt like a performance. Something I assembled with the right muscles in the right sequence and presented to the world as proof that I was fine. Now it just happens. Without planning. Without the quick internal check of is this appropriate, am I safe, will someone hear me and decide I’m too happy and take it away.

“You’ll survive. Promise.” I move away to check on my other tables.

The only part I’m not telling Jamie is that Holden will be sitting in the parking lot of my building for the entire night. Not because the guys tried to ban pajama night or wrap me in bubble wrap. They didn’t. We negotiated the same way we negotiate everything now: I get to sit in my apartment behind a locked door with my friends. I haven’t spent a night there since the noose. And it’s time I get to reclaim some part of what’s mine. We can’t keep relying on Eli’s contact to watch over Amy. And honestly, I miss my own bed. So I get one night of normalcy with no surprise check-ins or a broody man set up in the corner of the room. But they get one person close enough to respond if I need him. And we have a signal.

Two flicks of the living room lights. That’s it. That’s the whole system.

They know how badly I want one night of being a regular girl with her friends, and they’re giving it to me even though the “Brock” messages are coming faster every week.

The newest one arrived an hour ago. Milo’s catch put it in the group chat before I even opened it.

BROCK:

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID. I KNOW WHO YOU’RE WITH. BETTER HOPE THEY’RE AS GOOD AT PROTECTING YOU AS KILLING ME.

MILO:

Logged. Route’s still bouncing. Keep working, kitten. We’ve got eyes on you and you’re safe.

So that’s what I do. I keep pouring. Keep smiling. Keep moving. There’s a perverse comfort in not letting the fear repaint my life again. I’ve already repainted too many times.

If Brock—well, whoever is pretending to be Brock, or whoever the fuck it actually is—wants me to be afraid, they can eat shit. I’m not hiding anymore. Milo will probably catch them before they get close enough to try anything. Failing that, I’ll stab them until they stop moving and then I’ll fuck Holden in their blood.