Page 141 of Runaways

But I wish she hadn't told me she loved me. She sucked the air right out of the room with that one and all the fun out of my fantasy, too…the one where the three of us are still normal teenagers, and I hung the moon for the girl next door.

It caught me so off guard, I almost threw her off the fucking bed. It shook me to my core, and that's probably why I went off like I did.

Her fault. Not mine.

Still, something's bothering me. There's something gnawing at the back of my mind—something about what Silas told me about her reaction that just doesn't sit right.

I turn off the water, dry off, step back into the main room, and start getting dressed.

"So, whatexactlydid she say when you told her?"

"Oh, my god, I'm not fucking doing this. I told you…she didn't really say anything. She was really quiet and really still. I'm not going to go into more detail just so you can get off on it."

"That's not why I'm asking," I say. "I just think it's weird. Don't you think it's kind of weird?"

"I think it's fucked up that you did this behind my back. I think it's fucked up that you let us both think you loved her and that we were all going to be together. Ipromisedher—"

"You didn't ask me before you made that promise."

"I promised her she wouldn't have to be alone. She said she couldn't take it anymore. So no, I don't think it's weird that after everything we—and especially fuckingyouput her through, let's be honest—she shut the fuck down. She's done, Tate. And I'm done talking about it."

"Well, did she text at all?"

"No," he says. "Why? Are you having regrets?"

"Pfft." I pull my shirt over my head. "Of course not. It's just—"

"If you tell me it's fuckingweirdagain, Tate, I swear, I'm going to fucking lose it." He gets up, grabs his bag from the floor, and heads for the door. "I'll be in the car."

"Silas?" I call, softening my tone. "I amsosorry that this hurt you."

"Tate, I don't believe you."

"I am. I love you…so much. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well, that last part I believe…"

"And it's not like I don't care about Noah at all. If I didn't care, then…" Silas raises an eyebrow and shrugs, waiting for me to finish the sentence, but I don't think he'd like it if I did. If I didn't care at all, I'd just slit her throat and be done with it. If I didn't care at all, I'd just go live my life; I wouldn't have gone to all of this trouble. I mean, surely, they both realize that. Icare.If I didn't care, I would've just let her starve all week.

"Well, I can assure you, she's going to spend the rest of whatever life she has left thinking you do and always have hated her fucking guts. Don't you ever spend a fucking second doubting it. Isawit. That's mypromiseto you."

He opens the door, and I stare down at the old motel landline telephone. I'm not having second thoughts or regrets or whatever Silas said. After all, who would I be if I let this go? I'm not sure I have an answer for that.

It's just that maybe she's not even there, and maybe there's no point in calling them. If they're smart, they'll catch up to her whether I call or not.

But then she'll be lost again. That will be worse.

"Do you think she left town already?" I ask before he can leave the room.

"I don't know," Silas says. "She looked so tired…maybe not. She told me she didn't even want to try anymore. Maybe she's just going to wait there for them to catch her."

Scratch, scratch, scratchat the back of my brain.

"Tate, if you want to talk to her—"

I cut him off before he can finish the sentence. "I don't want to."

His expression falls. "Fine. But just so you know—that dirty, twisted feeling in your gut you're always talking about? That's guilt, Tate. It's not something Noah did to you, it's what you did to her. That's what's haunting you. It's what's killing you."

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