Page 50 of Out of My Flocking Mind

“It’s not my fault people are stupid.”

“That’s exactly what you said when your supervisor spoke to you about it. I had so many meetings that week and every person who interacted with you said the same thing—fire her now. They all said you would cause far too many problems, that it wasn’t worth having you there.”

“And you didn’t immediately kick me out?” I chuckled at the idea of five years ago, of big, stern Ruben dealing with problems caused by little ol’ me. It probably wasn’t as funny as it felt right then, but I couldn’t help laughing about it. “Your life would have probably been a lot easier if you had. I mean, no one would blame you for not sticking up for the little weird crow girl who didn’t fit in.”

Ruben didn’t answer right away. In fact, it took so long that I sat up so I could look straight over at him. He stared at me, the same expression I’d seen from time to time on his face. Normally, he was difficult to read. I recalled the way people said Justices lacked emotions, that they weren’t human anymore, but neither were they Sprit. They were something twisted between the two, lacking the soul of a human, driven only to obey and uphold their code. Nothing else mattered to them.

I might have believed that as well, except I’d seen this glimpse too many times from him. I’d watched his expression soften, something deeper inside him peering out through those eyes of his. That look said he felt far more that anyone thought. Maybe it was buried deeper or maybe it was an echo of his old, human life, but he wasn’t as hollow as others thought.

Finally, Ruben laughed softly again, as though he had no idea how he’d gotten here. “Maybe I thought that, but I can’t bring myself to regret it. When I first saw you in the council room, when the crystal turned blue, you were so confused about…everything. I recalled when I woke after being turned into a Justice—well, after the process for it to happen. It was difficult to adjust, to find my place, but at least I had a place, a spot to fill. You lacked even that.”

I sorted through his words, trying to make sense of them. “So you wanted to give me a place?”

He paused, then sighed. “That sounds far too sentimental, but I can’t deny it, either. I couldn’t do anything about you not fitting in, but I could ensure you always had a place to come back to. I’ve done that for the past five years, kept a place for you here no matter how you tested every limit set before you, no matter how many enemies you made, how you rebelled against every rule—I did the only thing I could and made sure you had a home here no matter what.”

I took my bottom lip between my teeth, the slight ache telling me I probably chewed it a bit hard, but what did that matter? Ruben’s words sounded suspiciously like some weird declaration of love, but I knew better than that. Whatever he felt toward me—probably mostly pity—wasn’t anything nearly as sweet as love. Maybe he just connected with that feeling of isolation and offered me something to help. It was him taking care of me as a way of soothing his own past.

Ruben twisted his arm and looked down at his watch, then cut off anything else I might have said. “It’s getting late. I don’t know how long Harrison will take, but you might as well close your eyes and get a little sleep.”

I wanted to argue with him, but if I remained awake, I’d keep talking, and I wasn’t sure I really wanted to keep this conversation going. It seemed too close to finding out or saying something neither of us wanted to deal with. Our relationship was uncomplicated and slightly antagonistic—just the way I liked it. However, if we kept talking, if either of us uttered something we shouldn’t, then my happy place here would become strained.

Just like it had with Kelvin, with Harrison, with Galen.

So I twisted and lay back down again, this time closing my eyes. I didn’t expect to fall asleep, but pretending would pass the time if nothing else. However, before I knew it, I’d been lulled to sleep by the rustling of papers and scratching of a pen against the paperwork.

Hours later, I woke, blinking slowly. I was still on the couch, but when I shifted, I found a thin blanket thrown over me. It hadn’t been there before. Did that mean Ruben had put it on me? I peered at the desk, and the sight startled me.

Ruben was seated there, just like he had been before, but his head leaned back against the headrest of his chair and his eyes were closed. It made him look oddly young and innocent. The hard lines of his face were relaxed in sleep, and I found myself drawn closer to him. Why was it that seeing people sleeping made me view them in a different way? They lost the masks they wore in their regular life, like the weight of the people we were supposed to be was lifted.

I picked up my blanket and crept closer, the sun starting to rise from behind the mountains. I paused beside him, staring down at him. “You know,” I whispered softly, keeping my voice low so I didn’t wake him. “You talked about creating a place for me, wanting to make sure that I had somewhere I belonged. I know I’ve never made things easy on you, that I’ve caused you a lot more trouble and stress than anything else. Still, thank you. You did make a place for me here. Even when I didn’t think I wanted a place, it was good that I knew I always had somewhere I could go back to.” I pulled the blanket around him, leaning closer as I did it.

It put my face just before his, letting me study him. He wasn’t all that young. He had to have been in his forties when changed, and it didn’t seem like it had been an easy human life. Somehow, it seemed fitting on him, though. His face showed the years he’d lived, the weight he’d carried all that time. Not near the bottom of that list was me, of course. I didn’t know if I’d even have survived this long in this world if he hadn’t taken me in, if he hadn’t given me a job as a courier, something that created a safety net for me.

At the start, his meddling had felt like a leash placed on me, but now? It felt more like a safe place, somewhere I always knew I could retreat to, and I owed that to this stubborn, difficult man.

Before I could think twice about how bad an idea it was, or how complicated it would make things, I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his like a test. Would I feel something? Nothing?

As fast as if happened, I pulled away, terrified of his eyes opening and catching me in the act. What the hell is wrong with me?

When I knew I couldn’t answer that, I retreated from the office, shutting the door quietly behind me as though fleeing from the scene of a crime. Harrison would return soon, and I’d wait elsewhere on the floor for that.

Clearly, I couldn’t be trusted on my own—hot men beware…

* * * *

Seeing Harrison drive still felt strange. He often used drivers, and he sure as fuck fit in the back of a town car. Him driving himself was like seeing him do dishes or clean the toilet. He had the look of a spoiled, rich model, and that didn’t fit with him doing anything for himself.

“I am sorry it took so long,” he said as he drove toward his house. “I had hoped I would be back before it got so late, but that failed to happen.”

“What were you doing?”

“I told you—a meeting.”

“Sure, but a meeting with who? Was it really just a booty call and you’re too embarrassed to tell me? Was she, like, a four?” I snorted at my own stupid joke. I couldn’t imagine Harrison out on the prowl like that. Sure, I’d slept with him, so I knew he was good in bed, but the game to get someone into that bed that I couldn’t picture him playing.

And the side-eye he gave me said he hadn’t been picking up chicks and he couldn’t believe I’d suggest something that stupid.

You clearly don’t know just how stupid I can be.

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