Page 108 of Left-Hand Larceny
“I’m sorry,” she whispers into my shoulder. “I just—I didn’t know where else to go.”
“You’re a-always allowed t-to come here.”
Please come here.
Her breath shakes. “I think I might be a little drunker than I thought.”
“You’re g-glowing.”
“Actually, I only had two ciders. It’s just the adrenaline.”
“F-f-from what?”
She finally lifts her head.
Her eyes are wild. Not fearful. Not frantic. Just full. Like she’s so stuffed with emotion that she doesn’t know where to start.
“I ran into Christian,” she says.
My muscles lock down before I even know I’ve moved. If I were holding anything, it would break in my hands. She notices. Reaches for my cheek. Strokes my skin before sliding her hand up to tangle her fingers in my hair.
“No, no. It wasn’t bad. Not really.”
I don’t breathe.
“He cornered me outside the bathroom. Said some… horrible things.” Her lip curls. “Wanted me to feel guilty for the gala.”
I want to drive to wherever he is and teach him the kind of apology that comes with bruises and pain. Instead, I hold her tighter. I regret not doing so the last time I came face to face with the brundþró.
“I’m sorry I didn’t do more at the gala,” I murmur. “I should’ve protected you.”
“You did.”
“No. Y-you handled it. You a-a-always do. But you shouldn’t h-have t-to. Not anymore.”
Her eyes shine again. But not with tears.
“I didn’t handle it because I had to,” she says. “I did it because I could.”
She pushes up on her knees, straddling my lap now, hands on my chest.
“I told him off. I didn’t shrink or rage. I just… said no. And I meant it.”
I stare up at her, awe blooming in my chest like something sacred.
“H-how did i-it feel?” I ask.
Her smile is breathless. “Like I met the real me for the first time. And really, really liked her.”
I wrap a hand around the back of her neck and press my forehead to hers.
“I’m so fokking p-proud of you, Sadie Jones.”
She exhales shakily. “That’s not even the best part.”
“Oh?”
“I punched him in the face. And I told my parents everything.”
