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I could barely breathe as he held my gaze for a moment, then released me. I felt the loss almost immediately.

“Isaac, you in here?” I heard Nolan call before I could respond to Maddox or beg him to take me back into his arms.

“Yeah,” I somehow managed to get out. “Is Newt okay?” I asked.

“He’s fine,” Nolan said. When he came around the corner, his eyes shifted between me and Maddox and I could tell he knew something was up. “Everything okay here?” he asked.

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Just clearing the air,” I murmured. “We’re good.”

I risked a glance at Maddox and saw him watching me. He looked agitated and I wondered if it was because of what I’d said about clearing the air.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Maddox muttered, then he went back to the electrical room.

I forced myself to look at Nolan. He and Dallas had been incredible in helping me watch out for Newt these past two days. Even though Newt was fully recovered from his seizure, I’d still made him stay in the house and rest. But most of that had been because I was terrified of what would happen if he had another seizure while outside. We’d gotten incredibly lucky that he’d been found so quickly and that he hadn’t hurt himself when the seizure had hit. It’d been a long time since the last seizure and deep down I’d thought that meant he’d been cured of them, so I was nursing the disappointment that came along with knowing he wasn’t. And I was projecting that onto him.

Not to mention I’d been a complete mess because of everything that had happened with Maddox.

Of course, none of that had changed.

Well, not in a helpful way, anyway.

I was more confused than ever about what was happening between us.

“What’s up?” I said to Nolan.

“Oh, I’m having problems with that spreadsheet. It won’t open and I know it’s because I’m doing something wrong.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll take a look,” I said. “No problem.” I told myself not to look back toward the electrical room as Nolan and I walked toward the exit, but I did anyway.

Just as I’d expected, the doorway was empty. And despite telling myself I was glad about that, I still couldn’t ignore the pang of disappointment that went through me.

And stayed with me for the rest of the day.

Chapter Thirteen

Maddox

It was nearly three days before I saw Isaac again, and when I did, it wasn’t by choice. I’d spent the better part of those days ripping down the old shed, which had kept me on the back part of the property where there was little around. Dallas had started helping me on the second day and while we hadn’t talked much–which wouldn’t have been easy to do so anyway, since Dallas was still following doctor’s orders not to try using his voice yet–we’d still managed to find a certain rhythm that had felt like its own form of communication. The fact that he’d even taken the time to work with me when he could have been doing other things around the sanctuary had been the one bright spot in my existence.

The rest was all just a dark, jumbled mess of shit.

Between Isaac and Jett, I was a roiling mass of uncertainty that no amount of walking would alleviate. With Jett, it was the same situation–he was refusing to talk to me beyond a few words telling me he was fine when he was clearly anything but. My fear for his mental health was starting to ratchet up. On the one hand, I knew it was normal for him to mourn the loss of his old life, but on the other, I’d nearly lost him once to his own demons and I was terrified that there’d be a day where his obligation to his grandmother wouldn’t be enough and he’d finish what he’d started. But I also wasn’t sure that going down there was the answer. Maybe seeing me would push him over that same edge. He’d told me many times he didn’t blame me for what had happened, but I knew that couldn’t be one hundred percent true.

I’d been in charge that day.

I’d made the decision that had led to him losing his legs and nine other men losing their lives.

It would be too much to expect that he’d ever forgive me for that.

I’d never forgive myself for that.

But as bad as things were with Jett, Isaac was the one who consumed most of my thoughts.

I’d clearly scared him by telling him so much about what he made me feel. I didn’t even know the man who’d said all that shit because I wasn’t that guy. I didn’t talk about my feelings. I didn’t do relationships and emotions. If I felt the need to give in to my body’s desires, I took care of it and then moved on.

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