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“I fucking hate him,” I growl.
“You and me both.”
I grunt, folding my arms over my chest. He slaps his hands on his knees before pushing to his feet. “I’m grabbing some shit then heading back to your house,” he calls over his shoulder. I grin at his back.
“So, you two are a thing now?” I ask as he disappears into his bedroom. He pokes his head out to glare at me, his face hard.
“No.”
“Really? Seems like you are.”
“Pyro,” he warns. I chuckle to myself, sinking further into the couch.
“You’re sleeping at our place, in his bed. You’re being all domestic and shit.”
“Pyro!”
“Big, tough Kon whipped by little Chase.”
“Fuck off,” he growls. “Fuck right off.”
He storms from his room with a bag slung over his shoulder. It’s not lost on me that he’s taking more shit to our place. Whether he wants to admit it or not, he’s moving in with Chase, and things are getting serious between them.
I’m happy for them, they deserve happiness and if they can find it with each other, whatever. A part of me, though, resents it. Not them. Not their relationship. Just that they’re in love and happy and I’m…not.
Kon steps in front of me, pulling me from my thoughts, and I blink up at him. “You staying here again?” he asks, clutching the strap of his bag tighter.
Pulling my lighter out of my pocket, I flick it open, then closed. “Where else would I be?”
My hands grip the steering wheel tighter, the sunlight bright as it shines down on us, warming the car. I glance at Oli, finding her singing along to the radio, french fries stuffed in her mouth and her feet kicked up on the dash.
It’s been the best day.
I forced her to go downtown with me while I took photos. It’s been so long since I’ve used a camera. While it’s not mine, it’s Chase’s, it was still a camera, and I was grateful to just be able to shoot. Oli even modeled for me, in her own odd way.
Everything has been perfect. Almost everything.
It’s been two weeks, and I haven’t heard from Roman. I’ve heard of him from Chase and Kon, but he hasn’t called or texted. Not the way Isaac has. Each call, each text, has gotten more demanding, more aggressive. I know he’s worried about me, that he’s trying to get through to me, but I’m just not ready. Not for him.
Chase said Roman was giving me time, letting me adjust to this new way of living. But a pit has stayed in my stomach since I left Divinity without him.
“You sure about this?” Oli asks warily. I readjust my grip on the steering wheel as I nod.
“I need to do it,” I mutter as I pull into the parking lot. I feel Oli’s gaze on me as I shift into park, one hand still clutching the wheel.
Her hand slides over mine on the gearshift, and I finally look at her. “I’ll be with you.” My throat tightens, tears blurring my vision as I nod.
I truly don’t know what I’d do without my best friend.
She didn’t make me feel bad on the days I spent wallowing. She didn’t force me to get over it quicker, didn’t press me for answers before I could talk about it. But when I could, she was there, ready to listen. Ready to give me her shoulder and heart.
I turn my attention to the unassuming brick building, my gaze immediately landing on the sign.
Deliverance Tattoo.
It’s fitting, isn’t it? For Roman to run from Divinity and find Deliverance. And now, I’m doing the same.
With a deep breath, Oli and I get out of the car and head for the door. Every step toward it feels like an eternity, like I’ll never get there. My breath catches in my lungs as I wrap my hand around the cool doorknob. I shove it open, the smell of disinfectant hitting me first, then the dim, moody lights.
