Tears lined the bottom edge of his eyes, and they had to mirror my own as I stared at the ceiling so they wouldn't fall.
“Just give me a minute,” I said.
I went back into my bedroom and slammed the door, then I sank down against it until I sat on the floor and cupped my face in my hands.
I couldn’t say no. We had to save Sol and put an end to the Black Mage, and we had to work together to have any hope of succeeding. That hope, however, was increasingly smaller by the moment.
Regardless, Fin wasn’t going to back down, and neither was I. I was going this alone. I didn’t want his help anymore. Even if continuing on this path would get me killed.
Chapter Two
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“Get off the floor, Zoey. You know he’s not gonna wait for you forever,” I mumbled to myself.
I hauled my ass up carefully and braced my hands on the wall. Sharp stabs shot through my body.
No more sitting on the floor with healing ribs.
I limped into the bathroom adjoining my bedroom and splashed some water on my face. Wasn’t I just thinking about how much I missed Fin? And now that he’d showed up, I ran scared?
I dabbed the water from my skin and tossed the towel on the edge of the sink. Then I took a minute to stare at my reflection, hoping I could intimidate myself and grow some balls. I didn’t run away from anything, though it felt like I’d been running from Fin since the day we had met. Maybe my body knew something my heart had yet to grasp.
I heaved a long sigh. Fin wouldn’t leave until I talked to him, and if I were honest with myself, I would admit I didn’t want him to go in the first place.
Time to get back in the game and figure out all this shit. Time to stop running.
I exited the bathroom and stepped into my bedroom, then jerked to a stop at the end of my bed. Fin lay flat on the now freshly made coverlet. I rarely made my bed, and usually only when I put on fresh sheets.
The bastard had made my bed before he lay himself down on top of it. It took a minute for all that to sink into my brain. Then I picked up an empty soda bottle from my vanity table and chucked it at him. The green plastic bounced off his t-shirt-covered abs to land beside him on the bed.
“If you’re trying to hurt me, you should have chucked that paper weight over there,” he said, not even looking at me, still staring up at my popcorn ceiling.
“How did you get in here? I locked the door behind me.”
He scoffed. “Really, that is your question? Obviously, I’m not going to let you hide from me when we desperately need to sort some things out.”
I waved at the door and stepped toward him. “And you couldn’t give me five minutes of privacy to gather my thoughts? Why are you so damn controlling?”
Before I could think better of it, I picked up the closest object within reach, a jar of loose powder, and tossed it overhand at his head.
It stopped above his chest. He plucked it from the air and tucked it in his hand. The man had the audacity to tsk like I was some kind of petulant child, unwilling to learn the lessons he desperately tried to impart.
He sat up and leveled one of his patented glares at me.
I felt like my head might pop off my shoulders in anger. “Get the hell out of my apartment.”
He gracefully turned on the bed, put his feet on the floor, and stood to his full height.
“I understand things are tough right now,” he said.
“Tough? We passed tough a long time ago. We passed tough when I had to get a blood transfusion. We passed tough when I didn’t murder you before I left your house.”
He took a couple steps forward, crowding in my space, but I refused to back down this time. The man was not about to bully me in my own home.
I took a step forward, meeting him toe to toe. “I said get out. I don’t want you here. I would’ve called you back if I wanted to speak to you.”
He reached out and lifted a few strands of my hair, then tucked them back behind my ear in a move so gentle it shocked me into stillness.