Page 22 of The Truths We Seek

Shaking my head, I cling to Tommy’s words and get myself ready for the day. I spend too long in the shower, letting the water hide the tears that overwhelm me again. When I finally make my way downstairs to the kitchen, I find it empty. So I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and take a seat at the table.

Meyer said twenty minutes and I went a little over.

Maybe he left without me?

“Stop it.” Meyer’s voice pulls me from my thoughts and back to the kitchen in his house. The house I’m still living in, despite everything.

The house I don’t need to keep me “safe” anymore.

Not now that Trent is dead.

I still can’t decide if I’m awful for not feeling anything but happy about his death. Especially since he is the reason Tommy is dead.

“Dammit, Quinn. Stop it.”

I blink, my vision coming back to the man sitting opposite me at the table. He moves quickly, pulling my chair out and twisting it to face him before he crouches in front of me, cupping my face with a hand, stroking his thumb across my cheek.

“None of this is your fault.”

I open my mouth to respond but he shakes his head, stopping the words on the tip of my tongue.

“None of this is your fault. I will say it as many times as you need me to. We all will. Tommy wouldn’t blame you, Hunter doesn’t blame you. This is not your fault.” He stares into my eyes, as if trying to force his will upon me. Like he’s single-handedly wielding a sword and trying to slay the demons in my head.

But the shadow army is legions strong, and he’s wrong.

This is my fault.

Whether he wants to acknowledge that or not.

Rather than tell him any of that, I nod. “I’ll try to do better.”

He groans in frustration and runs a hand through his hair. “You don’t need to do better, Quinn. There’s nothing to be better at. I just hate seeing you like this. The grief I understand, we’re all going to miss Tommy, he was important to us all, but blaming yourself isn’t going to help anyone. I even understand the train of thought, but I can’t stand to see you beating yourself up like this.”

His eyes plead with me and for a second, as I lock eyes with him, it’s like the waves of emotion pull back. Like I can breathe if I just stay here, like this, with him.

He reaches over and squeezes my hand, his touch like an extra piece of armor, and when the waves crash back down, they don’t hit quite as forcefully as before.

“Thank you.” The words are a whisper as he grips my hand and I blink back the tears that well in my eyes.

I might not believe that this isn’t my fault, but just maybe, with him, with the others, I can fight through the legions of shadows and come out of it alive.

CHAPTER EIGHT

HUNTER

“How is she?”

Rory looks over at me like I just asked the stupidest question on Earth, and well… fair, but still. “Look, you told her about Tommy before I was home. I was supposed to be there for that. She’s going to need all of us to deal with that. She doesn’t let people in, but she let him in and he was ripped away. You don’t think she’s going to try and do something stupid like run to protect us?”

He stays quiet, like he’s thinking over what I said, as I groan, pulling up my jeans. Stupid fucking stitches. I get it, things could’ve been way worse for me, but a few extra scars is no big deal.

I’m healing, I’m hurting, but I’m alive.

My biggest concern is Quinn.

Losing Tommy is going to be possibly the biggest emotional hit she’s taken. She hasn’t lost people before. Not anyone she gave a fuck about. I might be pissed that they told her before I was home, but I’m more concerned about exactly what I just said to Rory.

That she’ll run.

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