Page 34 of Cipher's Baby Girl
"You know what I find interesting?" Blade continues, undeterred. "The fact that you're willing to let her walk out that door looking like sex incarnate, knowing every man in that club will be all over her, rather than apologize and admit you fucked up."
My head snaps toward him, a growl building in my throat. "Watch it."
Blade raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Or what? You'll beat the shit out of me like you insist Hawk does to you? Yeah, Hawk told me about those little self-flagellation sessions. Very healthy coping mechanism."
"This isn't about me," I say, turning back to the screens. Goatee is buying Rose a drink now. Where the fuck is Rash? Why isn’t he putting a stop to this? My jaw clenches so hard I taste metal.
“Just as well, I suppose.” Blade is still talking. “She deserves better than a man who'd rather bleed than feel something. A man who watches her every move through cameras instead of talking to her like a normal human being. Yeah, she does." Blade leans forward, invading my space. "But for some fucking reason, she wants you anyway. Or she did, until you crushed her."
Goatee touches Rose’s arm with the tips of his fingers, and I mentally calculate exactly how much pressure it would take to snap each one individually.
"I did what was necessary," I force out through gritted teeth.
"Bullshit." Blade's voice hardens. "You did what was easy. What was safe foryou."
"You don't understand," I say, eyes never leaving the monitor as Rose smiles at something Goatee says. It’s a fake smile. It doesn’t reach her eyes.
"Then explain it to me. Explain why you're sitting here getting ready to spontaneously combust while the woman you want is out there with other men."
"Because I'll destroy her!" The words tear from my throat, louder than intended. “Because she’s perfect and I’m poison. She’s endured enough. She deserves someone better. Someonenormal.”
Blade is quiet for a moment, studying me. "You really believe that, don't you? That you're poison."
I don't respond. The answer is obvious.
"Let me ask you something," he continues, his tone shifting. "What are you really afraid of? That you'll hurt her? Or that she'll hurt you?"
His question hits like a physical blow, ripping me back to that basement in Damascus. Strapped to a metal table. The Professor's cultured voice in my ear:“Tell me about Operation Blackbird.”
"You think you're backing away to protect her," Blade's voice pulls me from the memory. "But I think you're running to protect yourself. It's easier to push her away than risk her walking away on her own once she sees the real you."
"You've been spending too much time with Sophie," I mutter, uncomfortable with how close his assessment hits. "Picking up her amateur psychology."
He shrugs, unperturbed. "Maybe. Or maybe it’s incredibly obvious.” He gestures to the screens. "Look at her, man. Really look. Does that look like a woman who's afraid of your darkness? Or one who's been waiting for someone to see her light?"
I turn back reluctantly. Rose is dancing now, awkward at first, then with more confidence as Luna guides her. Her cheeks are flushed, hair slightly damp at the temples, eyes bright with what looks like joy. The sight makes my chest ache.
"She doesn't know me," I say finally. "Not really."
"Whose fault is that?" Blade challenges. "You've had weeks to show her who you are. Instead, you fuck her then freeze herout, leaving her to build her own narrative about why. And now you're shocked she's moving on?"
"I'm not shocked," I growl. "I'm..." What? Jealous? Terrified? Both and neither.
"You're scared," Blade finishes for me. "Scared that maybe you're not as broken as you think. That maybe she could actually handle the truth about you. That maybe you're throwing away the one good thing that's landed in your fucked-up life because you're too chickenshit to take a chance."
Anger flashes hot in my veins. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
"Don't I?" He stands, heading for the door. "Keep telling yourself that, brother. Keep watching her through screens instead of manning up. But don't be surprised when someone else steps in to give her what you won't. When that happens, it won't be on her. It'll be on you."
He pauses at the door. "And Cipher? Sometimes the payoff is worth the risk of taking a chance."
The door closes behind him with a soft click that somehow hits harder than my earlier slam. His words hang in the air, impossible to dismiss.
I turn back to the screens, telling myself I'm just doing my job. Protecting club assets. The lies are familiar, comfortable.
Goatee is back, moving into Rose's space on the dance floor. His hands settle on her hips, his body too close to hers. She stiffens, clearly uncomfortable but trying to be polite.
Maybe Blade’s right. Maybe I am a coward. Maybe what I'm really afraid of is rejection—of giving Rose the choice and watching her make the smart decision to run after she sees the violence inside me, the darkness, the freak that lives beneath my skin.
