Page 8 of Hymns of the Broken
My fingers tighten around the bottle. She’s not wrong. I hate that she noticed.
“I’ve got enough going on,” I say. “I don’t need to add a rockstar with serial killer eyes to the list.”
Macee gives me another look full of truth and no judgment.
“Maybe,” she says. “But something tells me he’s already added you to his.”
I open my mouth to reply, to brush it off with a joke, anything—
Bzzz.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
My phone lights up in my pocket, like it knows it’s not wanted.
I pull it out and immediately regret it.
Blake??
8 Missed Calls.
12 Messages.
My stomach knots.
Macee leans over to peek at the screen, and her whole face twists. “Ugh. Seriously?”
I don’t answer.
The first message preview appears across the top, followed by the next one.
Blake:“You’re really doing this? Ignoring me now? After everything?”
Blake:“I didn’t realize radio silence was part of your new job.”
Blake:“Hope you’re not too busy for the people whoactuallycare about you.”
Blake:“Would be nice to hear something other than crickets.”
Blake:“I know I messed up, but you’re not innocent either.”
Blake:“You always do this. You shut down, make me the villain.”
Blake:“I’m just trying to be there for you. Why’s that so hard?”
Blake:“I’m at your apartment. Fix your attitude before you show up.”
I stare at the screen as if I don’t blink, the words will disappear.
Macee leans over, reading them without asking, and her whole body goes still.
“The fuck did he just say?”
I try to tilt the screen away from her. “It’s nothing.”
“No,” she snaps—louder than I expect. “It’s not nothing!”
I glance around, but she doesn’t care who’s listening. Her voice is fire now, she’s not even yelling, but every word lands like a punch.
