Page 164 of Chasing Ruin
I place my hand over hers, but it stays limp. Cold. Lifeless in her lap.
She isn’t crying. She isn’t shaking.
That terrifies me more than anything. This frozen numbness isn’t what I wanted for her. Not after everything.
God, I almost wish she still hated this club. Hated all of us.
“I told him to go,” she says flatly.
I sniff, blinking hard against the burn in my eyes. That cell really did a number on me—cracked the fucking floodgates open that I can’t seem to shut again.
“He would’ve gone anyway, Charlotte,” I murmur into her hair. “You know that, right?”
She nods, but it’s stiff. Mechanical. Like she’s just going through the motion.
“Charlotte.” My voice breaks despite myself. “Please come back, baby. I can’t—I can’t see you like this.”
She leans back slightly, brows knitting together. “I’m here, Theo. I just…”
She pulls away a little more, but I tighten my hold on her. I can’t—won’t—lose the contact.
Her hand comes up to my chest, like she’s trying to ground me. But she’s not looking at me. She’s staring at my throat. “Mama says I’m feeling guilty for missing the time,” she whispers, her voice thin, haunted. “But he… he was—I know he tried to talk. But then he was busy.”
A pause.
“With the war and everything,” she continues, almost too quickly. “He was busy.” Her eyes lift to mine, desperate. Searching. “He was so busy.”
She’s asking me, isn’t she? Begging me to make it true—and itis.
Christ.I don’t want her burdened by this guilt. So I nod quickly. Even as my chest caves in. “Yes, baby. He was,” I say, brushing my hand gently over her back. “Everything was falling apart. He had to be careful. He was very busy.”
She nods again, like she’s clinging to it. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “And then it just—everything slipped.”
I hold her like she might slip through my fingers if I don’t. That if I look away, even for a second, she’ll disappear.
And the fucked-up part?
I know that feeling isn’t just in my head.
I’ve already lost her once. That fucking night when she was taken away from me—right under my goddamn nose.
My grip tightens instinctively, my chin resting against her hair as my mind spirals somewhere dark and relentless. Everywhere I look these days, I seehim.
In the empty chair.
In the silence that stretches too long.
In the way everyone pauses for half a second before speaking—like they’re waiting for him to walk in and take over.
If I can’t escape it… if I can’t stop seeing him everywhere… What the hell is this place doing to her?
“I’ll take you back,” I blurt before I can stop myself, the words rough and urgent. “Craven Ridge will—”
“No.” It’s soft. Immediate. Final.
She curls closer into me, like she didn’t just rip that option right out of my hands. And my whole body fucking deflates.
Relief hits first. Then it’s chased just as quickly by something colder. Heavier.
