Page 121 of Resist

I shivered as I closed my eyes, listening to the steady thump of Wes’s heart and the firm comfort that was his arms around me, and then I exhaled, letting it all go. I felt him shift, slowly loosening his grip.

How did I screw this all up? How did I manage to completely destroy everything as badly as I did? I gave this up. I gave up Wes. And for what? Nothing I planned came to fruition. It all backfired, and now here I was, back where I started, back at square one. Only this time, I had hurt one of the people I loved more than anything else, and I didn’t even know what to do about it.

Truth. Tell him the truth.

But would it be enough? If I explained to him what really happened, would he forgive me? Would he be willing to give me another chance? And even if he did…even if he forgave me for everything, it didn’t change what I was.

I was Raúl’s daughter.

I was no better than him.

And Wes deserved better.

I shuddered at the thought, scared of what it meant but confident in its truth. And slowly, I pulled away from Wes to lookat him. Gone were the tears from his eyes, and his unreadable mask was firmly in place. His face was mottled with bruises, and a gash above his brow was neatly sewed up with six little black stitches. The corner of his lip was cut, but looked like it was healing okay, and I noticed his one shoulder looked bulkier than the other—probably because of swelling or bandaging under his shirt, or both. Probably both…

He looked like crap.

I wanted to tell him as much. An older version of me would have totally teased him about it. But we weren’t in that place anymore. And I wasn’t in a position to give him crap when I was sure I looked just as bad.

“Wes,” I muttered, “I need to—”

“Knock, knock,” another voice said as the actual sound of a knock greeted my ears. I looked over and saw Matias, a bouquet of daisies and lilies in his hands.

“Matias,” I said, feeling relief consume me. He was alive too. He had made it out just like Wes and me.

“Hey,” he said cheerfully. But no sooner was the word out, his eyes darting from me and then to Wes, did the energy in the room suddenly shift into an awkward place, and his smile faltered.

Wes stiffened and then cleared his throat as he stood up.

Oh no… Oh no, no, no, no.“Wes,” I started. “It’s not what it seems—”

Wes lifted a hand at me, effectively silencing my protest. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said as he walked to the door. His voice was stiff, hard, and emotionless.

“Wes,” I tried again. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t listen. He ignored me, walking out the door and out of sight.

And just like that, Wes was gone.

68: Detained

Matias remained silent, looking out the door and then facing me with anI’m sorryexpression on his face. As if to make up for it, he held up the bouquet.

“Got you something,” he offered with his boyish smile.

I couldn’t help it…I smiled back. It was so good to see him. To see him alive, standing, walking—well,limping—but moving and just…alive. “I’m so happy you’re okay,” I said, my voice cracking.

Being the gentle soul that he always was, Matias caught it, and limped his way to the bed, taking a seat on the edge. He reached out and brushed away a stray tear as he rested the flowers on my lap. “Hey,” he cooed, “it’s okay. We all made it…including your brother.”

My eyes widened at the news, my heart skipping a joyful beat. “Jacob’s alive too?”

Something flickered in his expression, but he forced a smile. “Yeah, he’s alive too.”

“How—what happened?”

His brows furrowed as he grabbed a lock of my hair and twisted it gently between his fingers. “You don’t remember?”

I blinked, trying to recall it all, but the memories were choppy, lacking fluidity and order. “I remember most things, I think. But so much feels blurry.”

“Hmm,” he murmured incredulously.

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