Page 412 of End Game

His face doesn't change.

Micah's does.

Tiny.

Warning.

I drag both hands through my hair. “Sorry.”

Ronan sets down the tablet. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Cool.”

I pace again.

Three steps.

Turn.

Three steps.

Turn.

My skin feels wrong.

Too tight.

My thoughts feel louder because I'm trying not to say them.

Which means now I'm thinking about thinking.

Which is fan-fucking-tastic.

I stop in the middle of the kitchen.

Look at Micah.

Then Ronan.

And something in me just… breaks.

“Will one of you please just shut me up?”

Silence.

I laugh once.

No humor in it.

“Seriously. Shut me the fuck up. Shut my brain up too. I don't care how. I am so fucking tired of hearing myself think.”

Micah goes very still.

Ronan tilts his head. “Are you asking to be gagged?”

I stare at him.

Micah makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.