Page 93 of Sorrow & Strangers

Max rolls his eyes. “It’s my packed lunch for today. Dick.”

Packed lunch? I briefly wonder why he doesn’t go to the cafeteria, and then I remember some of his beef with Connor. Has Max had similar struggles to mine?

I shrug, trying not to draw attention to my thoughts. “I’ll have a bite,” I say, fixing my bra and pulling on my panties and shorts.

Max pulls on his shorts and sits down in his chair before pulling out his lunch bag. He unzips the navy-blue canvas bag, pulls out a large burger, and takes a huge bite.

“Nothing better after a good fuck.”

“Good?” I ask, leaning against his desk and eyeing the burger, my stomach grumbling loudly this time.

Max smirks around his mouthful of food. “Angling for a compliment?”

I roll my eyes and pluck the burger from his hand, taking a small bite. It’s actually pretty good, even if it’s cold.

“Great fuck, then.”

My lips twitch, and I put the burger down on his desk. Grabbing his face, I kiss him hard and then whisper into his lips, “That was the last time.”

Max moans. “You’re giving me a complex. I get hard now when people say last time.”

“Oh, other people say it?” I quirk a brow. “Good, you’re getting used to it, then.”

“Such a dick,” Max says with a chuckle, and kisses me again.

Something about this feels a little too personal, a little too familiar. I can feel the tension building, and I am relieved when someone knocks on the door.

“Looks like you’re late for your class,” I say, pushing away from the desk.

“Until next time.” Max winks at me and swats my ass as I pick up the burger and turn to leave his office.

Chapter Forty-Six

The Stranger

The spell flickers, unsteady from my own turbulent emotions. Converting my surveillance room into a pseudo-lockbox was the right choice. It kept me from constantly having to fix the damage my powers caused. The runes on the walls strain from my annoyance as I watch her leave the gym.

Piece of shit berserker. I could just kill him.

No, I can’t do that. I already considered that course of action, and it would only make her hate me more. She’s lost enough. But maybe I could just maim him.

She leaves the gym holding a burger. She lifts it to take a bite, but then stops and just looks at it. Her smile drops, and some emotion flashes across her face. Is it sadness? Vulnerability? I can’t tell, but she tosses the food into the trash and slides her hand over the golden halo on her wrist. Does she know she reaches for it when she feels overwhelmed? Or is it subconscious?

Her eyes close, her breath unsteady.

I’m in front of her and brushing her hair behind her ear before I even register that I’ve decided to leave my surveillance room. She blinks her eyes open and looks up at me. I stare back at her silently, not moving away.

“Why are you here?” she whispers. Her voice is breathy, and I can hear that she was close to a panic attack before I arrived.

“What weighs your shoulders down so greatly?” I ask, the old phrase from my childhood slipping out. Sometimes I remembered my mother asking me that, my small fingers tangled in her dark, curly hair as I clung to her.

What weighs your shoulders down so greatly, little one? Are you carrying realms in your mind?

But then I don’t know if that memory is real. I didn’t know my mother. The idea of family remains an unfamiliar concept. Sometimes my memories feel like puzzle pieces brushed together, leaving only a mess of color and shapes.

“Why are you here?” she repeats. “Why are you always here?”

I shrug, brushing her cheek softly with the back of my fingers. “You looked sad.”