Page 146 of Runaways

"But I—"

"She's fucking freezing. That's not going to help."

He turns to grab a towel, and Noah shifts in my arms. A small sound comes from her lips.

"Noah!" I say, tapping her cheek lightly. "Hey! Wake up, Noah."

Her eyes flutter open and closed for a few seconds until finally, she looks at me. "Tate?"

I smile through the tears. "Hi, baby."

"I'm…alive?" she asks, her lower lip quivering.

I nod. "Yeah, sweetheart, you're alive."

"And I'm withyou?"She closes her eyes and starts to cry. "No," she says between breaths. "No, no, no, not again. God, I can't do anything right. No. This ishell."

"It's okay," Silas says. He wraps her up in a towel before easily lifting her out of the tub. "Come here, princess."

I follow him out of the bathroom and into the main room. She's out of it again when he lays her across the bed.

"There's vomit on the bed," I say.

And on the floor. And there was vomit on both of us, too, but I guess it's washed off.

"Fuck off, Tate," Silas says as he begins removing her wet clothes.

Stifling a sob, I walk around him to the other side of the bed, remove the vomit-soaked pillowcase, and flip the pillow over. There's some on the sheet, too, but not a lot. "I'll get some more towels."

"No," Silas says, his tone calm and even. "Tate, I am so fucking serious right now. You need to get the fuck out of here, or I'm going to lose it."

I swallow a lump in my throat. "I didn't want—"

"Doesn't matter," Silas says. "I don't give two shits about what you want right now. I don't care about anything except for Noah waking up, and she doesn't fucking want you here; you heard her. She saw you and thought she was in hell. So, get the fuck out."

I consider arguing. Arguing is my default setting after all, and I don't want to go. I need to be with her; Ineedto make sure she's okay.

AndIsaved her, didn't I?

But Silas is right. I hurt her, and she doesn't want me.

Our entire relationship could probably be boiled down to that statement. I hurt her and hurt her and hurt her, and now, she doesn't want me.

So, even though every cell in my body wants to stay inside the room—wants to be the one who gets to hold her under the covers instead of Silas—I know that isn't fair. My heart drops into my stomach when I turn the doorknob and leave the apartment. I walk down the staircase in cold, wet clothes, the very last of the late October wind painful against my skin, and remember I didthatto Noah, too.

When I get into the car, I lose my shit. I scream, punch the dash, and hit my head against the steering wheel until I'm out of breath.

It's my fault. All of it was my fault.

twenty-two

Loved like a Threat

Noah

My head is killing me.

Except it didn't kill me. Because I'm still alive. Light seeps through the only window in my apartment. Silas is in the kitchen with his back to me. Other than the distinct sound of a spoon scraping against the side of a ceramic coffee mug as it's stirred, the room is silent.

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