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“Yeah, and you basically destroyed an entire building in the process. Look around, man. Surely there was another way you could have reached Reece.”
“There wasn’t.”
“Are you sure?” He asks me, and I want to be offended, but it’s actually a legitimate and honest question. I stop for a minute to consider my answer. Was there another way I could have handled this? Was
there something else I could have done better? Is there a way I could have diffused the situation without violence?
Then I think of Nicole.
And I think of her fear.
And I think of how she had no chance to defend herself.
“It was my only choice,” I tell Cameron.
“All right,” he says. He places his hand on my shoulder. “I trust you, brother, and I trust your decision. You saved her life,” he says. “And you may have saved Reece’s in the process.”
He doesn’t need to elaborate. I know what he means. Wilson may be showing compassion to Reece now, but if he had hurt Nicole in any way, there would be no mercy. Wilson would have been happy to be the one to execute the rogue shifter.
Any of us would have.
“I need to go find her,” I tell him. Admitting it out loud is difficult for me, but I feel like a weight is lifted from my shoulders when I do.
“Go,” Cameron says. “I’ll sort things out here.”
Thankful I can trust him to handle this side of things, I take off down the street, heading for the place where I know she’s staying. Cameron’s mom has been gracious enough to let Nicole live with her temporarily. No one answers the front door when I reach the house, but Nicole’s room has a separate entrance. I know far more about her than I should. For someone who isn’t interested in her, I sure have made a point to keep notes on her.
I head up the back stairway to her tiny room and knock on the door. Again, there’s no answer. I glance around for a minute before trying the doorknob. I’m not surprised that it opens. Nicole has never really cared about little things like personal security. She trusts people too much. I shake my head when I enter the room, remembering all of the fights we had back when we were a couple about her lack of personal safety and awareness.
One day, she’d left the car unlocked with a bag of non-perishable groceries in it: things like soda, crackers, and granola bars. I’d gotten pissed when I realized the door wasn’t even locked. In a college neighborhood, that was just asking for trouble.
I’ve never forgotten what she said when I brought it up to her.
She didn’t lose her cool
She didn’t get mad.
She just seemed surprised.
“If someone breaks into my car to steal food, Lee, I think they need it more than me.”
“But that’s your food that you paid for,” I told her, frustrated. I knew exactly how hard she worked at the diner. I knew how many hours it took her to afford those groceries. I knew that she often got stiffed on tips and that she never bitched or complained about it.
I didn’t think it was fair.
She had come to me when she realized I was upset, and she’d hugged me. Her arms had wrapped around my neck, and she’d kissed me softly.
“It’s okay,” she told me. “We all need a little help sometimes, Lee.”
“That doesn’t make stealing okay.”
“Someone who steals is really desperate, Lee. You don’t know how long it takes someone to get to that point. If someone is at the point where they’re willing to risk breaking into a car for food, they’re really hungry.”
“Or they’re on drugs,” I scoffed.
“That doesn’t mean they aren’t hungry,” she whispered.
Then she kissed me, and I forgot about being mad. I forgot about everything except holding her in that moment. I had completely forgotten about the fight until now. Standing in her doorway, it all comes rushing back, and I try to fight the emotions rushing through my heart.
