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“Yeah. And I’d like to know what the fuck gave him the audacity to say that. He doesn’t know what goes on in my head, and he has no clue how I feel about her.”
“C’mon, man. You know you don’t hate her, especially after tonight.”
Wes stops. Most of his face is covered by his mask, but I can still make out his eyes. They’re hard and dark, and he narrows them as I shoot him a challenging glare.
Does he really not get it? After all these years?
“I hate her,” Wes says lowly. “I hate her more than anything else on this goddamn planet.”
“Do you?” I ask quietly. “Or do you hate yourself for not being able to let her go?”
He swings at me, but I knew it was coming. I dodge with ease, and before he can try again, I shove him back.
“You’re wrong,” he shouts.
“Keep it down,” I hiss. We’re far enough from the warehouse that no one can hear us, but we still need to be cautious. “And, for the record, you know you’re lying to yourself.”
The leather of his gloves squeaks as he clenches his hands into fists. “No, I’m not.”
“Think about it,” I tell him.“Reallythink, Wes. This all started with you wanting to punish her for choosing someone else over you.”
“Not just someone else,” he spits out. “She chosehim.”
“And she’s paid for that by now, over and over again. At this point, we’re tormenting her becauseshetormentsus.”
He’s breathing heavily, but he’s listening. Fucking finally.
“You know her existence isn’t her fault,” I continue. “Neither is our attraction to her.”
Wes works his jaw, but he still doesn’t say anything.
“Maybe you resent her, but she’s allowed to fuck who she wants. Maybe you’re angry, but you’re not at her anymore. And maybe you do hate someone, but it’s not her, Wes.You hate yourself.You’ve just been taking it out on her. We all have.”
Wes just stares at me. He’s often quiet when he gets into one of his moods, but never like this. Normally, he locks himself in his room or fucks off to walk through the woods. But this time, he’s looking at me like I just stabbed him in the back—and like I just gave him the biggest revelation of the century.
The silence grows between us, only filled with the distant sound of vehicles on the interstate. Wes doesn’t move, and I’m not sure he’s even breathing. But he’s finally using his head, so I’ll take it.
“Fuck,” Wes says after a couple minutes. He rips his mask off and rubs his face. Just as I think he’s about to pull it together, he drops to a crouch and pulls at his dark hair.“Fuck.”
How Wes hasn’t come to this realization on his own is beyond me. It was mere hours ago that he was telling Athelia his fuckingsoulis drawn to hers.
My friends are idiots.
“I know you’re having a crisis,” I say after giving him a minute, “but we need to finish this job.”
He heaves in a long, shuddering breath before standing. After shoving his mask back over his face, he turns to me. “We’re never talking about this again.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
With that, he stalks off, and I follow closely behind him.
The warehouse sits quietly, but there’s a beat-up truck parked by one of the doors. We enter quietly and cautiously, guns ready, but the main room is dark and empty.
“Over there,” I whisper.
On the other side of the building is a small room that looks like it was once used as a break room. It’s got a large window facing us, and the light is on inside. Two men and one woman sit around a table eating and talking.
We move slowly, walking the long ways around the room to avoid being in direct view of the window. Odds are, they won’tbe able to see us, considering it’s dark out here and they’ve got the light on, but caution won’t hurt.
