Page 191 of The Clinch
Not because I was useful.
Not because I protected her.
Not because I bled for her or hit for her or stood between her and a bad man.
Because she wants me.
I look down at my hands again.
I don’t take what isn’t offered.
I say it once. Just to hear it.
Then I unwrap my left hand and start peeling the tape free, one slow turn at a time.
It still holds.
45
AFTER THE BELL (LIZ)
By the time we get back to the Cherokee, my skin feels too tight.
The climb upstairs is silent except for the strike of our feet on stone and the blood still pounding in my ears. Eden keeps pace beside me, purse strap looped around one wrist, her mouth set in a careful line that says she knows I’m one wrong word away from burning the whole place down.
Good.
Because if she says one soft, soothing, reasonable thing to me right now, I might actually bite her.
When we reach our floor, I stalk down the hall, keys in hand, and barely make it inside the apartment before I spin to face her.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Eden closes the door behind us quietly. Too quietly. “Liz?—”
“No.” I throw my bag onto the console table so hard it skids and nearly knocks over the bowl Joy gave us last Christmas. “You do not get to start with my name in that tone. And you do not get to stand there acting as if this was some unfortunate misunderstanding.”
The softness goes out of her expression. “I said I was sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t cutting it.”
The words come out louder than I mean them to, but I don’t care. My whole body still feels tuned too high, every nerve ending sparking.
I pace three steps toward the kitchen and back again.
“You found out last night. And you still let me go through my whole day and walk into that gym blind while everybody else apparently had a front-row seat to the plan.”
“I didn’t have a front-row seat,” she snaps, enough steel in her voice to stop me for half a second. “Jessica texted and said she wanted somebody close by in case things went sideways.”
I laugh, sharp and joyless.
“In case things went sideways.”
“Liz—”
“No, really. Amazing. I’m thrilled there was a contingency plan for my trauma.”
“That’s not fair.”
