“Yeah.” I dropped my eyes to the concrete, staring at a jagged crack that ran between us. I didn’t miss the irony.
“Yeah, well, your brother is a piece of work, you know that?” He leaned forward, as if to step closer, then rocked back on his heels. “But what I want to know is if you believe the crock he spouts, about Mordecai dishing out fair punishment. Do you think that”—he jabbed a finger at my neck—“is fair?”
I huffed a small, half-hearted laugh. “If it’s any consolation, I’m fairly sure I broke Alec’s nose earlier. And adopted brother. He’s not lucky enough to share blood.” I paused, considering the rest of his words. Breathing seemed particularly hard when I said, “Honestly? If you’d asked me a few years ago, I would say the punishment was fair. But now . . . I’m not sure. I’m . . . confused.”
His brow furrowed as his eyes shifted downward, then whipped up, as if noticing my naked state for the first time. “Here.” He reached behind him and tugged off his shirt, exposing skin free of bruises yet still littered with faint white scars. How—? “Can you put this on for me?”
I snickered softly. “Um. Sure.” He held the shirt out and I accepted, sliding the soft linen over my head. His scent washed over me like rain. No. Like the earth after rain. Mentally, I shook myself. “I’ll never understand the Fae aversion to nudity.”
A small smile tilted his lips, and part of me cracked at the sight.
“It’s not an aversion—okay, maybe when we’re talking about a two-hundred-pound sweaty male shifter, yes—but it’s more a . . . distraction.” He cleared his throat, hand creeping toward his neck. “Anyway, no one deserves to be punished like that. No one. Not even—” He cut himself off and glanced away, jaw clenching. Then sighed. “You’re being abused, Reagan. Maybe you should be leaving your job, not me.”
My breath skipped—the soft, airy hiccups that came before the wall of tears. Nope. That wasn’t going to happen, even if I knew, deep down, that he was right. I questioned the words of protest that sprang into my mind, formed them carefully, then forced them back down. If this was truly the last time I was going to speak freely with him, there were things I wanted him to know. Needed him to, for my sanity. Or maybe I simply needed to hear myself say them.
“I moved out, you know. When I started to make my own salary. Mordecai insists on paying the rent. I understand why, now. Control. I didn’t then.” I struggled to still my trembling hands. “I thought that, as an Enforcer, I could help people. I thought maybe I could make a difference. Because I started to see things as I grew up and every time a Fae was harmed, my entire being wanted to recoil. I knew that no matter what sugar-coated reasons Mordecai and Alec gave, they were doing terrible things. But what he did to me? It’s far from the worst thing he’s ever done to punish me.” I lowered my voice. “You might be right, but if I try to leave? Tarik . . . I don’t have anywhere to go.”
After a moment of heavy silence, he groaned, scrubbing both hands down his face. “Man, Reagan,” he muttered, gaze pinging all over the place. His next words were strained, like they hurt to say. “The thing is, I’m the last person you should be getting help from. I’m—I’m no good. I’ll only add to your troubles. I wish I could help, but . . .”
I stepped closer, until I could barely pass my arms between us. He was so tall. I lifted a hand, gently brushing the scars on his cheek.
“You’re not the bad, evil person you make yourself out to be, Tarik. You’ve had horrible things done to you, probably beyond what I can imagine. I can tell the scars run deep.” I withdrew, adding softly, “But I didn’t come to you for help. In fact, the exact opposite. I may want to help you, but I’m only digging you in deeper. You kept getting yourself into trouble for no reason, and you looked so lost . . . like you needed a friend. But now there’s an even bigger target on your back, and that’s my fault. If I don’t stop trying to help you, there will be no you left to help. So. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay. I have been all this time.”
I offered a tight-lipped smile before I moved around him, taking slow steps down the alley. My heart and body ached. I didn’t know if I was making the right decision.
Stop. Wait. Go back.
All Tarik really needed was a guiding light; the potential was all there, hidden beneath layers of thick defenses. In the back of my mind I knew he didn’t want to be alone. That he needed someone, anyone, who could see him and pull him out of the darkness. To remind him that he mattered, even to one person. He had scars I couldn’t see and I knew that with time, I could help mend them.
But I didn’t have time. Mordecai made sure of that.
“You’re not okay.” The words gave me pause, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. “And you’re not hurting me. You’re saving me. You’re saving me from myself, and . . . please don’t leave.”
I froze. Oh. Oh no. My voice cracked, tears springing free when I said, “I can’t watch them kill you. I can’t condemn you to that.”
His voice was nearer the next time he spoke. “A few days ago, I was a dead man walking. I—I wanted them to kill me. Then you swooped in, literally. I wasn’t happy about your interference, but now . . . maybe I want to stick around a little bit
