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“That’s not an accurate account then, Eli. I think you’re not analyzing the available data correctly without that list.”
“That’s impossible,” I tell him, my mind seeing the reams of paper from the last time I printed the list. “Each time I let myself get distracted, the list gets longer. When I should have been safeguarding them, I was watching a mermaid show or letting you feed me popcorn and candy or obsessing about how I’m going to suck your cock.”
His eyes flare. “Those are normal human experiences, Eli. You get to have them and still save the world.”
“No. I don’t.” I shake my head from side to side. “The numbers don’t lie.”
“You’re right. They don’t,” he says and picks up his phone from the floor, and going into the other room to make a phone call. By the time he comes back, my printer has started a print job.
“What’s this?” I ask, rising to get to the printer. Jeb beats me to it. “I called Daisy and had her run some numbers for me.” He hands me a sheet of paper with a bunch of numbers on it. “This is the rate at which hate crimes in Kentucky have gone down in the four months since the Reivers fell apart.”
I look at the paper. The statistics seem to be from reputable sources and mined correctly. It states that hate crimes have gone down twenty-nine percent since the Reivers were disbanded four months ago.
“And those numbers are just for Kentucky. Imagine they play out the same throughout anywhere the Reivers had a presence.”
“This doesn’t change anything.”
“Bullshit.” For the first time his voice takes on a tinge of anger. “You’re just too stubborn to see it. How many lives do those numbers represent?”
“It doesn’t balance the other—”
He doesn’t let me finish my sentence “And Eli, those are just the lives you’ve managed to help save by getting rid of the Reivers. How many people have you saved fighting other hate groups in the last—how long?”
“Five years,” I finish for him.
“Jesus,” he says. “You were fifteen when you started all this. No wonder it messes you up sometimes.”
“I get so tired,” I admit to him. “Each name on that list is so heavy. I don’t know how much longer I can carry them around.”
“Then don’t.”
“I have to,” I almost whimper.
“Not on your own, you don’t.”
“I have to,” I insist. “It’s the only way I can stop it from happening again.”
“I’m serious, Eli.” He points to me. “This control freak crap is getting in your way. Daisy is a pretty good junior hacker, as well as being pretty damned kick-ass in general. Teach her some of your tricks and watch her go. And that fuckhead, Brady. He might be an asshole, but that day we met, it sounded like he knew what he was talking about. Trust him to do more than following your footprints. Then, recruit even more people to share the burden.”
I can’t wrap my mind around what he’s trying to tell me.
“This keeping yourself up for days and weeks on caffeine and energy drinks and not eating keeps you from doing your best work, not the other way around.”
He takes the paper I still have gripped in my hand and lets it drift to the ground. I give a frustrated sigh at his messiness, but I don’t comment. And then he touches me. He guides me away from my computer and down toward the bed, where he wraps me in his arms.
“Like tonight. Your mind needs to rest. You can go back to adding more names to the save column tomorrow, but tonight, you’re turning off for a while.”
The bed is soft and warm, his arms even softer, and I feel myself give in to his orders. “Just relax, baby, and let me take care of you.”
Chapter21
Jeb
South Carolina
Eli is awake in my arms. He hasn’t said anything yet, but the minute he was conscious, his muscles tightened, and his breathing quickened. It’s early morning, but outside, a summer storm has hit and rain batters the windows and keeps the room dark and private.
I’m happy to hold Eli in my arms while the rain keeps the responsibilities of the day away for a few more hours. He scared me last night. I’d never known how much pressure he put on himself. It’s a wonder he hasn’t shattered into a million sharp little pieces.
