Page 67 of Harbinger

“Because I can’t even begin to process my thoughts even without music,” he snaps, smacking my hand away gently as I reach for the dial.

“What is there to think about?”

We’re on the road again, passing by houses and fields separated by patches of trees.

Ronan sighs, pulling off onto a side road. A small parking lot for a walking trail protected from view of the road by a thick patch of trees.

“What—” but I can’t finish my question before his lips are on mine.

TWENTY

RONAN

“What are you doing?”Sydney asks, pushing me away. I sit back, running my hands through my hair.

“I want this,” I tell her. “Selfishly, I want this. I can’t stop thinking about it, and I have no idea why.” My palm lands on her thigh, and I spread my digits out, feeling her leg break out in goosebumps as her breathing slows.

“Then why don’t you take it?” she asks, moving her leg slightly so one side of the slit in her dress falls between her legs.

I swear the car gets ten times hotter as I consider her question. It’s a good one. One I’m not completely sure I can answer. I palm my face, hitting the back of my head against the seat. “I don’t know. I haven’t had this. I get up in the morning, I do my job, I go home, I sleep. The next day is the same. I don’t have time for relationships. I never have.”

She looks down, studying her hands as her neck tips away from me. “You haven’t had a relationship that you remember at all, have you?”

“Is this a relationship?” I ask, catching her off guard. I should have answered the question. I should have stopped myself from asking. But I want to know.

Kissing Sydney feels like freedom. A freedom I never really thought I needed.

Sydney doesn’t say anything for a long time, the silence filling the car, settling on our shoulders with a heaviness neither of us are prepared to describe. The windows start fogging over as we sit, my hand back on her thigh, hers fisted in her lap.

“I’ve never had a single relationship that lasted,” she says finally. “Not a single one. Everyone always left. No matter what I did for them, nothing was ever enough.” She sighs, and I press my hand harder into her. “I tried to be the perfect girlfriend. The perfect little future housewife. I cooked for them, I cleaned for them, I offered them a place to stay, my bed to sleep in, my body whenever they wanted it. It was never enough.” Her head turns to the side as she presses her forehead against the cool window, trying desperately to settle her nerves as he leg starts softly bouncing, her fingers wringing each other out. “Every single time, something came up that was more important than me. A job, usually.”

My hand drifts higher up her leg, and she stills, looking back at me. “I know that this is fake, but I’ve never felt so comfortable around someone, even when you’re mean to me.”

And her words break me. I think about my reply carefully, running my tongue along my bottom lip before meeting her eyes, trying to convey every possible feeling that’s running through my mind to her without words. But I find them anyway. “This is a job. And we can’t screw it up. So much relies on this. But I can’t help the feeling I get when I touch you.”

She nods her head slightly, little tuffs of hair freeing themselves from her braids and falling into her face.

“When this is done, you’re not going to want me, Syd. You’re not. I’m not a good man, and you deserve so much better.”

Her eyes squeeze shut, and I can see through the dark how white her palms are as she digs her nails into them.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” I whisper. “But I also can’t control how much I want you.”

Her green eyes grow large as they meet mine, and I wonder if I’ve said the wrong thing. If she’s going to yell, or scream, or get out of this car right now and get lost in the woods somewhere, never to be seen again. It’s a thought that’s crossed my mind from time to time two.

“I’m not a good person either, Ronan. I’ve run from my demons for far too long. Ignored suffering. I was complacent. Happy with running. With ignoring the past. With moving past it. I should have stayed and fought.”

“You were a kid, Sydney.”

“And you were forced to do this, Ronan.”

Her words sting. Something that I’ve never really thought about before. I’ve spent years and years of my life working for the Agency, doing whatever they wanted me to do. I’ve done things I’d rather forget over and over again. I turned my empathy off. I couldn’t do it.

“Maybe we’re more similar than either of us ever thought,” I whisper.

“Maybe.”

The only thing that moves between us is our chests, rising and falling with our breath as our eyes never once waver from the other.

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