Page 4 of The Most Wanted Witch

He was rubbing his shadowed jaw, trying to distract me from why I should be angry. Except he didn’t know I liked his jaw and maybe he just felt like rubbing his face.

“You flopped out on the ground,” I said.

“I was preserving my strength.” He shrugged.

“You just lay there and let me do all the heavy lifting?”

“I wasn’t going to be able to get us out. It was hard enough to get in, and I had a hunch you could, but you needed motivating.”

I shook my head and started walking again. “And I believed you.”

“Why do you always pretend to be mad at me? What is that about?” he asked as he walked along with me.

“I’m pretending nothing. Iammad at you.”

He laughed.

“Next dome we get stuck in, you won’t find it so funny, because I’ll be the one sitting it out.” See how he liked that. He wouldn’t.

“What’s funny is how much effort you put into trying to pretend you’re mad when I can tell by your voice when you actually are. Which you’ll probably be shortly.”

And here it came. One of these times, he was going to skip this talk. Every week, I hoped he’d give up. Guess it wouldn’t be this time.

“There’s a meeting tomorrow,” he said.

“I’m always there,” I said shortly, and there was no faking this time.

“That’s not my point, and you know it.” His laughter was gone.

My sigh was just short of morphing into a groan. I was going to have to find a different path to walk on the eve of the weekly meetings. Without fail, it always came to this, and I wasn’t ready. Everyone else might want it, but I didn’t, and he wouldn’t let it go.

“You need to step up,” he said.

“Ihavestepped up. I’ve done as much stepping as I’m capable of without something to get close enough to attack.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Now we were both angry.

“Fine. You’re right. How about I’ve done as much stepping as I’m willing to? Does that work for you?” I walked faster, knowing it was futile, but it served as an outlet so I didn’t try to punch him.

“You’re the one that wanted to stay here, fought tooth and nail to do it,” he said, keeping pace.

“Staying, living, and working is different than leading the war.” As any moron would see if he wasn’t a stubborn ass. I wasn’t quite ready to devolve our fight to that level, but it was coming—maybe next week, in fact.

“When you patrol the streets at night, what exactly is it that you think you’re doing?”

He was like a dog with a bone.

“See? This is the problem. I’m not patrolling the streets. I’m taking a walk as I check up on things like a concerned citizen, who will do her fair share. Can you just back off?”

We’d nearly double-timed it back to the office, and I grabbed for the door.

“No, I can’t.” He planted a hand on it, keeping it closed.

“Why?” I asked, ready to devolve into kicking and screaming in a minute. That was not the look of a leader, and maybe he needed to see that.

“Because people look to you, and you need to step up for them. So are you going to step up tomorrow, or are you going to blend into the wall again?” He moved his hand out of the way, as if expecting me to be a mature adult and do what was needed. He didn’t realize that I’d come about as far as I was capable of in the time allotted, and it was quite a bit. But I was not going to be anyone’s leader. No way.

---