Page 53 of Séance

She pales, swallowing hard, but she doesn’t back down. “If you feel better tomorrow, I’ll tell you.”

I narrow my eyes, and my hands clench into fists against the need to shake answers out of her. It’s only when she flinches away that I lurch back, horrified that she would actually think I would hurt her. I take a step backward, nearly tripping over the coffee table in my need to put distance between us. “I should go.”

I pretend I don’t see the tears that flood her eyes as I scurry from the room, feeling like an ass the whole way. Part of me wants to turn back and comfort her.

Until I feel the warm metal on my pinky.

No, she’s the crazy one, not me.

She actually thinks she can speak to ghosts, but even as I leave the house, I don’t remove the ring. It’s not because I think it will help—the reason is much worse. I keep the ring because she gave it to me, and I’m not ready to let that connection with her go.

Though she might be as crazy as a bat, she gave me the ring because she cared.

I don’t remember anyone besides my brother who ever did anything for me without expecting something in return. Rue is different. She opened herself up to me, shared the most vulnerable parts of herself, and I ran from her like a fucking coward.

I’ve never felt so low in my life, and I’ve been in plenty of low places. I’m an ass, I never claimed otherwise, yet for the first time, I regret it.

As much as I wish otherwise, Rue deserves better than someone so damaged as me.

Chapter Seventeen

HICKS

After Ellis lectured me for a full hour for upsetting his precious little girlfriend, he left in a snit. He must have informed the others of my infraction, because their judgmental silence is deafening, which only worsens my mood, and I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes at the drama queens.

Jameson remains on watch at the hospital. I’m not surprised, since he often loses track of time when he’s focused on one of his crusades. Gunner claimed his chocolate cake and disappeared into his room while I was in the shower, and who the fuck knows where Jaceson vanished to.

I’m trying to play it smart and protect us.

She’s just a girl, a nobody, and they are losing their heads over her.

Sure, she’s gorgeous, not to mention she exudes an air of mystery that I can’t quite get out of my head. It’s also hard to forget her body has enough curves to make my hands clench with the need to trace every inch, but women are a dime a dozen.

Once she’s gone, they’ll forget her, I tell myself as I shovel a big bite of food they prepared into my mouth, stubbornly finishing the whole meal. I refuse to admit that it tastes hollow without the rest of my family. I grab a beer, wander out to the patio, and find myself watching the house next door with a brooding intensity.

Just being near her has the ground shifting under my feet, like the center of my world is shifting focus, and I don’t like it. The guys have always been my main concern, their safety my priority.

Without the guys to temper me, I’m nothing more than a surly bastard.

As I take a gulp of beer, I watch the neighbor’s house like a pervert waiting for a glimpse of her. I don’t feel one iota of remorse, knowing I’m not going to be able to sleep until I work out a plan to get her out of my system and out of our lives.

The only way the guys will forget about her is if she leaves first.

Hate is a powerful tool.

If I can get her to hate us, she’ll go away.

Problem solved.

If I feel a pang in my chest, a tiny tickle of remorse for the hell I’m going to put her through, then I ruthlessly crush it.

It’s for her own good.

She’ll eventually come to see that over time.

We’re not good people. Someone like her, who expects white picket fences and a nine-to-five job, deserves better than us.

We bring chaos, destruction, and heartache wherever we go.

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