Chapter 127

I hated it. I really did, but I didn't think sending him a message or calling him now would help. In the end, I decided that I needed sleep.

Or at least to try.

I made my way to my room, stripped off my clothes, and crawled into bed. The blankets were cold against my skin, but I curled beneath them, hugging one of the pillows close.

I closed my eyes.

Sleep came quickly, but not peacefully. At first, it was just darkness.

Then water again. My mother’s voice, faint and distant. The memory was clearer this time. Much clearer. It wasn't the wind, Helen, that I heard per se, but wolves. There had been other people there. Other eyes.

Run. I had to run. I was running through the house, but I didn't know where I was supposed to be going or how fast I needed to go. My mother was nearby. Fighting. The scratching and clawing of wolves on tile. We broke out into the sunshine. The howling of wolves turned into a bristling wind. Howling.

Then I was floating. Flying. And crashing into the water. I gasped, flailing under the sheets, trying to wake up, but the dream kept me hostage.

Something in me told me that I needed to see this. Needed to know.

I was submerged, lungs burning, vision blurry and dark. The water was cold, ice cold, wrapping around me like chains. I thrashed upward, but I couldn’t find the surface. Couldn’t breathe.

Then her voice was panicked. Screaming. I was pulled up, flung away, rolling across wet grass and stone. I saw her struggling in the water. And a rough, masculine hand pressing her down. His voice sounded so far away, muted through my panic. I was choking on water still.

A shadowed face. The shape of a man. The smell of blood.

I clawed forward, screaming, but the sound was swallowed whole. Her hand reached out toward me.

Then silence. Water, and slowly he turned to me. His eyes a bright burning gold. But I couldn't make out his face.

Darkness snapped over me as he came close. He turned his head. Snarled. And broke something over me.

"At the least, you'll be useful to me."

I shot upright in bed, soaked in sweat, gasping like I’d really just surfaced from the pool. My breath rasped out of me in shallow sobs. My chest ached. My fingers trembled against the sheets.

That man had done more than just drown my mother. He'd been the one to put the bind on me.

Tyler

I’d stared at the front door of the bakery for nearly fifteen minutes.

My palms were sweating. That was new. Usually, when I felt like this, it was before a fight or a mission, not standing on a street corner with a bouquet of Maya’s favorite lilacs, wrapped in brown paper.

The flowers drooped slightly in my grip, the plastic stem wrap warm and damp. The weight of the takeout bag in my other hand was nothing compared to the knot in my stomach.

I was stalling.

Again.

The old man I now worked for, Mr. Lannister, had given me the job and a cot in the back of his antique shop. Security work. Nothing glamorous, but it was enough to keep myself fed while I figured things out and finished out the year.

It had also been enough to buy these flowers. And the takeout. It felt ridiculous. Hell, I didn’t even know if she’d speak to me. But I had to chance it. I’d seen her with Renee. I’d kept my distance, obviously. Seeing them together had nearly knocked the breath out of me. Maya had always looked good in flour and sunshine, but there was something sharper in her now. And it terrified me. I could feel it deep in my chest where this resonance, this body, was anchored in my soul.

She would talk to me. She had to. I wasn't the only one suffering. For better or for worse.

I pushed the door open.

The bell above it gave a soft jingle, cheerful and familiar.

Maya didn’t even look up from where she was wiping down the glass display.

“We’re on last hour specials,” she said automatically, her voice tired but warm. “Two for one on—”

She turned and froze.

I stood awkwardly in the middle of the bakery, the smell of sugar and yeast already clinging to my clothes. Her eyes landed on the flowers, then flicked to my face.

Her shoulders tensed.

I cleared my throat and lifted the takeout bag a little. “I brought you food.”

She crossed her arms. “I already ate.”

Lies, but calling her out and letting her know that I'd been watching her all this time was not the option I wasn’t to exercise right now.

“I figured you might want leftovers,” I said lamely. “Or… something sweet.”

Her silence was sharp enough to slice through the warmth of the room.

I set the bag down gently on the counter. “There’s chocolate in there. From that place near the riverfront. You used to love—”

“I still do,” she said flatly. “But not from you.”

I swallowed that hit. “I… deserved that." I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. "I just wanted to talk, to apologize. I… I've had a lot of time to think and I'm… I really am sorry, Maya." I looked up, meeting her gaze. " You have to know that the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you."

Maya arched a brow. She said nothing, and I nodded, leaving the flowers and the food.

"Be safe getting home, okay? And… call your grandmother. She called me to check on you."

"Did you tell her? The truth?"

He nodded. It had been painful. The old woman had seemed to be less concerned about Vivian and my relationship with Renee, and more concerned about how I was going to fix it with her granddaughter. And I had to tell her that I had no idea. That had been painful, but not as painful as the old woman telling him exactly what to bring Maya when he came to apologize next.

If that doesn't work, let me know, I'll bring out the big guns.

“… She always liked you more than she should."

My lips twitched. "Yeah. She does."

" I can acknowledge…." Her voice cracked. " I can acknowledge that it was hard for you. I can acknowledge that you told me. Part of the truth. I can acknowledge that you told me the truth about not having much of a choice in anything… And I can forgive that."

Hope hit me square in the chest.

"But I can't forgive what you did willingly… I can't forgive you for lying to me. That was a choice."

"I couldn't bear to think of you looking at me differently…" I looked at her. "I can barely stand it now."

"Looking at you--- You don't know that I would have---"

"You're looking at me differently now. And it's not just about not telling you." I pressed my hand to my chest. "Hate me. You might hate the side of me right now. You may never forgive me, but I can feel it. I felt the moment you found out. Felt the moment you found out how much of the truth I told you. How much I couldn't tell you. I can feel how it's all changed your view of me, even if you won't admit it… I'll never be the man I was in your eyes before…"

I doubted I'd ever be a man in her eyes again.

Her gaze softened, just a little. I could feel her churning guilt. The truth was more complicated than either of us wanted to admit. I’d been caught between ambition and survival. Between power and guilt. Between drowning and the hope of never drowning again, but none of that mattered now.

She didn’t owe me forgiveness. She didn't owe me anything.

Still, I had to try because I was going to drown again if I didn't. I was barely treading water even now.

“Your parents,” I said quietly. “They doing alright? She… She said they'd gotten into an argument again. No one's checked on her at the home.”

She blinked at the change of subject, then nodded once. “Yeah. They’re fine. I… I'll call my brother.”

“Your sister?”

“She got engaged,” Maya said, her tone clipped. "Busy."

“Good for her,” I said, smiling a little despite myself. “Tell her I said congratulations. I hope she's happy.”

"I’m not your messenger.”

“I know,” I said softly. “But I miss knowing those things. I miss you.”

Silence fell between us again. I let it stretch. Her eyes were still wary, guarded. I could feel the bond between us humming, just as strong as ever though a bit strained. It tugged when I looked at her. Pulled tighter when she stepped back, loosening when she crossed her arms again.

And I leaned into it.