Page 166 of Unhinged
“Yeah,” I say, steadying myself. “It’s me.”
“Are you okay?” Marcus asks fast, too fast. “I’ve been waiting—hoping you’d?—”
“Don’t push it,” I snap. “I’m not calling to cry and hug it out. But I’m calling. So shut up and listen.”
“…Okay.”
I lean back into the couch, eyes locked on a crack in the ceiling. “You were my friend. And now you’re claiming you’re my brother. You dropped that like a bomb. You should have told me sooner. And yeah, I’m still pissed.”
“I know,” he says, quiet now. “I deserve that.”
“But,” I force out, “you saved me. And you looked after Judge. So I’m not cutting you out. Yet.”
Acid grins and mouthsyetlike he’s proud of me.
“I want you to come talk. In person. Tonight.”
“Yeah. Of course,” Marcus says. “I’ll be there.”
“And Marcus?”
“Yeah?”
“Acid’s gonna be there. So if I stab you,” I say sweetly, “he’s gonna let me.”
Acid salutes from the couch.
Marcus sighs. “Yeah. I figured.”
“Good,” I say, and hang up.
I drop the phone onto my lap and exhale like I’ve been holding my breath since the minute I found out.
Acid slaps my knee once. “Proud of you, Omega.”
“Shut up.”
He grins. “Still proud, though.”
The knockon the door is too soft and polite to be one of the brothers.
Acid glances at me. “You want me to get it?” he asks.
“No. I got it.”
I cross the room and open the door. Marcus stands there, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, eyes unsure. His shoulders are tight, like he’s bracing for me to hit him already.
“Come in,” I say, stepping aside.
He walks in, and Acid stays right where he is, arms crossed, silent but sharp. Marcus nods at him but doesn’t say anything.
I sit on the edge of the armrest, Acid leans against the wall like a damn vulture, and Marcus sits in a chair across from me. The space between us feels like miles.
“You didn’t have to call,” Marcus says finally. “But I’m glad you did.”
“Don’t push it,” I reply.
He nods again, jaw tight. “I just—-I want to explain.”
