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“Iplan,” he explains, his eyes narrowed, “on taking what I want. Ontakingwhat rightfully belongs to me. What should’ve been mine in the first place.”
What should’ve been his.
Me.
I should’ve been his; he’s right.
He doesn’t even know how right he is. I haven’t even told him yet.
All the things that I discovered. Only a few moments ago.
My heart in my throat, I whisper, “Me.”
“Yeah,you,” he confirms, his voice sanded down to a whisper too, scratchy and low. “Because you know that if I hadn’t backed down, Lucas wouldn’t have stood a chance. If I hadn’t pushed you to him, your fucking boyfriend wouldn’t be making ultimatums. I let him have you. Ilet himkeep you. As a gift. But I’m taking it back because it’s my turn now. It’s my fucking turn to have what I want. And I’ve paid my dues, haven’t I? I’ve fucking paid them and then some and now I’m done. I’m done feeling guilty for what I want. I’m done feeling guilty for watching you, for that kiss, for wanting something that doesn’t belong to me. Because as it turns out, you do, don’t you?”
I swallow and breathe and fall apart and come together in a single moment. “Y-yes.”
His chest pushes out aggressively as he growls, “And not just for one night either.”
“No.”
“Yeah,” he rasps. “You’re mine, Echo. You’re fucking mine until I decide to give you back.”
“What?”
He comes even closer, his chest pressing into me with every breath he takes, every word he speaks. “That’s why you came here, yeah? To go back to him. To go back to your ex-boyfriend with your pure loving heart. And you can. But not before I’m cured. Not before you’ve soothed this ache in me. This hurt. There needs to be some justice, Echo. Some fucking compensation for all the ways you’ve consumed me. Not to mention, for coming up with the stupidest plan in the history of mankind. So you can go back to him and fix everything like the good girl you are when you’ve paid your dues to me. When you’ve fixed me. When you’ve fixed my sickness. You always wanted to fix me, didn’t you? Well, here’s your golden fucking chance.”
For the past month, I’ve been consumed by my need to save Lucas. To fix things for him. It’s only tonight — a few moments ago — that I’ve realized that that need had nothing to do with love. It was my guilt. This heavy, suffocating guilt of having a hand in his downward spiral.
I feel an immediate need to soothehimas well, this guy in front of me.
I feel this immediate,urgentneed to make things better for him.
To pay my dues for making him ache. For making himwatch.
But this is different.
Oh God, this issodifferent.
Yes, I’m guilty for not realizing my feelings sooner. For making him and myself think that I was in love with his best friend when I never was.
I never fell in love with Lucas because I was in hate with Reign.
But this urge to fix things for him comes not from a suffocating, choking feeling of guilt but from something that feels so good and warm and freeing.
Something that feels like summer and watermelon and lemonade.
Something that makes me want to wrap my arms around him and never ever let go.
Something like lo —
No, don’t think that right now, Echo. When everything is still in upheaval.
So there’s only one answer that I can give him.
That Iwant togive him.
That I give him with all my rapidly beating heart and throbbing soul.
