Page 16 of Word to the Wise

“Please.” I’m hanging on Carter’s arm, trying to pull the gun away, sinking slowly down to the ground in front of him. “Please.”

His posture is loosening slightly as my knees hit the ground, and I’m kneeling. Begging. Crying.

Am I anything anymore without this man?

He relaxes his arm, and the moment he does, I point the gun at myself.

“Please don’t do this, Carter. I love you.”

For a moment, his finger tenses on the trigger, and I think this is it. He’s changed his mind, and his rage is turning from himself to me. I stare down the barrel and part of me wants him to do it.

At least then I can stop living with the fact that I’m a coward.

“Reed.” Like he’s coming to, he drops the gun to the ground, dropping to his knees in front of me. “I’m sorry.”

He grabs the sides of my face in his hands. His fingers slip over my tear-streaked cheeks, and he pulls me in and kisses me.

“I’m sorry.” He kisses me again. “Don’t go.” Another kiss. “I’ll get help.” Kiss. “I’ll get better.”

Every time he pulls back, I accept the lie and let it fill the cracks.

He’ll get better.

He’ll be who he was in the beginning.

He’ll love me again.

But even as he pulls me in for another kiss—I see it. The barrel of the gun. The one I can’t seem to stop staring down.

“Reed.” My name snaps me out of my thoughts.

I’m staring at the bronze door handle because something about it reminded me of the barrel of a gun.

Guns never scared me when I was surrounded by them as a kid. My dad taught me and my brother how to shoot when we were young. But pulling the trigger isn’t the same thing as being at the other end. Especially when someone you should be able to trust is the one pointing it at you.

My gaze moves to Lyla standing in the doorway, and even if she tries to hide it, she flinches. Her whole body tenses when she looks me over. Her purple eyes skim my face, and it’s clear she’s biting back whatever she wants to say.

She brushes her black hair off her shoulders and straightens up tall as she walks to meet me at the edge of the bed.

“I’d say it’s good to see you, but under the circumstances…” I trail off, forcing a smile.

It’s awkward, and I know that. That’s why I normally hide myself away from work and social events when this happens.

“You don’t have to do that for me, Reed. You’re practically my sister.” Lyla sits down on the bed and takes my hand.

“Do what?”

“Pretend you’re okay for my sake.” Her gaze trails over the cuts on my face. “It’s okay for you to not be okay. It’s okay to let yourself feel it.”

Pressing my lips together, I take a breath through my nose. Lyla and her sister Ellie grew up on the Twisted Kings compound with me. They were practically family, so I know I don’t need to hide my pain from Lyla. If anyone can understand it, she can. She’s experienced worse herself, and it resulted in her losing Ellie.

Still, my defenses are in overdrive, and every time I try to let my walls down to process it all, something holds me back.

“What if I don’t want to feel it?”

“Then that’s okay too. There’s no right or wrong way to process this.”

“Did your cards tell you that?”

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