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Storm and Fury(71)

By:Jennifer L. Armentrout


“I didn’t realize you and I were going that deep,” he shot back, and my head swiveled in his direction.

My lips parted on a sharp inhale that went nowhere as that burning sting returned, sharper than before. The knot in my throat was back, and suddenly I was so uncomfortable in this seat, in my skin, that I wanted to be far away from here. Anywhere. On the street. By the river. In a den of hungry demons. Anywhere. My shoulders tensed as I slowly pulled my gaze from him.

“Shit,” he hissed. “Trin, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I didn’t—”

“Can we just not talk right now?” I cut him off.

“No, we need to talk. I’m in a... I’m in a weird space right now. I wasn’t expecting her to be here tonight and...and all that shit that comes with her. I wasn’t expecting Roth to gossip like a damn old lady. I wasn’t expecting last night—”

“Yeah, well, neither was I, Zayne. I wasn’t expecting to like someone who is in love with someone else.” My fingers dug into my knees. “And I really don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right,” I said, blinking back stupid tears—tears I refused to let fall. I wasn’t weak like that. I was a damn trained fighter. I wouldn’t cry. “I’ve never been in love with someone. So yeah, I don’t understand.”

“Trin—”

“I don’t want to talk about this. What part of that do you not understand? I just don’t. Okay? I’m tired and I want to go home—I mean, back to your place.”

A beat of silence. “Thought you were excited about grabbing something to eat.”

Not anymore. “I’m not hungry. I just want to go back.”

“Right. We can do that.”

And we did that, in perfect freaking silence—silence that followed us into the elevator and ended when I walked into his place, stalking toward his bedroom door.

“There’s food in the fridge if you change your mind,” he said.

Slowly, I turned back to him. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah. Out.”

I took a step toward him, realizing I didn’t want him to leave...and I didn’t want him to stay. I wanted him to force the conversation and I also didn’t want to talk about it, and I was thoroughly confused by these conflicting violate emotions.

“Where?” I blurted.

“I don’t know.”

He started for the elevator and then stopped and faced me. For a moment, that wall was down and I could see it all. Sadness. Anger. Disappointment. Most of all, a feeling I’d recognized anywhere—yearning. Then he turned from me. “I’m sorry, Trinity. I just need... I’m sorry.”

And then he left.

I knew why he left and I knew why he’d been so quiet on the ride back here. And I now knew why he’d never had sex before and why he hadn’t pushed for it with me.

It was because he’d been in love with Layla since he was a boy and he was still so obviously in love with her now.

I took a breath and it got stuck in a sudden knot in my throat. I looked down at my hands, watching them close into limp fists. My chest...it ached like I’d been punched center mass, and I didn’t know why I felt stupid and silly, but I did as I stared at those doors, because all I could think was that he’d done those things with me last night, he’d touched me like that, he’d held me like that, all the while he’d still been in love with Layla—in love with a half Warden, half demon who was in love with the Crown Prince of Hell.

Did he even see me last night? Feel me? Or had he been seeing Layla instead, pretending that I was...

A strangled sounding laugh parted my lips. “God.”

I had no idea how long I stood in the center of his apartment, staring at the closed elevator doors. Could’ve been minutes or hours before I walked over to the couch and sat down, numb to the very core.

Peanut drifted over to me, from where I had no clue. “Trinnie?”

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Where’s Zayne?”

I opened my mouth, but what could I say? I had no idea where he was. “Everything is—”

The elevator door dinged and Zayne’s voice suddenly filled the silent apartment. “You know what, Trin. Screw this. We need to talk about this.”

“Well, there he is,” Peanut announced.

Eyes widening, I shot to my feet and turned around, and yeah, there he was, striding across the living room. He tossed his keys onto the island. “Roth had no business telling you what he did,” he said, coming around the couch. “That was not his place. He may think he knows everything about me, but he doesn’t know jack shit—”

“We have company,” I blurted out.

Zayne snapped his mouth shut as he looked around while Peanut waved at him, unseen. “The ghost?”

“The ghost has a name,” I reminded him. “Peanut.”

“Peanut. Okay.” Zayne thrust a hand through his hair and those strands immediately slipped back against his cheek. “Peanut, can you give us some space?”

Peanut lowered his hands as he looked over at me. “He’s...he’s talking to me.”

“Yes. He’s talking to you.”

“For real?” An awed expression filled Peanut’s face. “No one talks to me except for you, even when they know I’m here.”

“Well, he’s talking to you now, Peanut.” I glanced at Zayne. “Isn’t that right?”

Zayne nodded. “Yeah, Peanut, I’m talking to you. Can you give us some time alone?”

I turned to Peanut.

“Normally I would love to be here for what I am sure is going to be a superawkward conversation, but since he’s asking, I’m going to give you space,” Peanut said, and I thought it was kind of messed up that he was doing it because Zayne asked and yet never did it for me. “I’ll give you some space and check out what Gena is doing.”

“Okay. He’s leaving—Wait. Who is Gena?” I asked.

“She’s this supercool girl on the fourth floor who can see me. She’s been marathoning Stranger Things with me,” he said, and I blinked. “See you later, alligator!”

“Wait!” I reached for him, but Peanut blinked out of existence. I turned to the door. “Oh God, he’s been hanging with some kid on the fourth floor that can see him. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, but that sure does explain why he hasn’t been around all that much.”

“Maybe it’s a distant relative of yours,” Zayne commented wryly.

I shot him a dark look as I shoved my hair back from my face. “I’ll have to figure out what to do with that later.” I inhaled deeply as I lifted my gaze to his and those pale blue eyes snagged mine. Suddenly bone weary, I let out a ragged breath. “What did you want to say to me?”

His eyes searched mine. “Roth should’ve kept his mouth shut.”

“Why? So that we would continue whatever it is we’re doing and I’d have no idea you wanted someone else?” I heard his words from earlier. I didn’t realize you and I were going that deep. A sharp slice of unease cut across my chest as I took a step back and then sat on the edge of the couch. “That’s messed up.”

“No, that’s not why. He shouldn’t have involved himself, because it’s none of his business—”

“I asked him. He didn’t bring it up. I asked him what was up between you two. He answered.”

“Still wasn’t his place.”

I stared up at him, and yeah, maybe Zayne was right. Maybe it wasn’t Roth’s place, but it didn’t change what was said or the fact I knew the truth. Swallowing hard, I looked away.

“He shouldn’t have told you, because I didn’t want this to happen. With everything going on, the last thing I wanted was for you to get hurt.”

God.

Why did those words make me feel worse?

“I’m not hurt.” That was a lie. It felt like there was an imp claw stuck in my chest. “I...I don’t know what I was thinking last night,” I said, curling my hands around my knees as my gaze fell to the blank TV. “It’s not like I thought you were madly in love with me or something. I mean, I figure I annoy you too much for that, anyway, but I didn’t know there was someone else.”

“There isn’t someone else.”

“There isn’t? You may not be with Layla, but you’re in love with her, and that means there’s someone else you’d rather be with and that means I’m...I’m second best. I’m—”

“You are not second best, Trin.” Zayne sighed, and my heart squeezed. “I know this is hurting you. Shit. Hearing you say this is killing me.”

“Really?” I tilted my head. “How exactly is it killing you, Zayne?”

“Because I do care about you. Because last night was—”

“A mistake?”

“No. It wasn’t a mistake to me. Was it to you?”

A huge part of me wanted to say that it was, to lash out, but all I could do was shake my head as I stared down at my hands, wondering how I got here. “Did you...?”