Chapter Seventeen

Harrison had gone to meet with Ignis, leaving me there with Galen. Then again, I was pretty safe here, all things considered.

"I'm surprised you haven't done anything to me yet," Galen said as he walked into the living room with a glass of water that he handed over to me.

"Not sure what you think about me, but I'm not the type to jump people in their own homes." As soon as I said it, I wonder if I'd get struck by lightning for that particular lie.

Galen shook his head and sat on the end of the couch, leaving space between us. "You're not the type to let people run their mouths. I said something you would have normally made my life a living hell for, but you haven't even brought it up. Is it possible that you've softened recently?"

"Let's hope not," I answered, then took a sip of the cool water. "I didn't say anything because you didn't seem fully in control there. Fuck knows I've said some weird shit when drunk. If that got held against me, well, it would suck. I can give you the same understanding, can't I?"

Galen stared at me, the weight of his gaze feeling like an elephant sitting on my chest. "I wasn't fully in control, but I still meant it."

I sighed, making a show of letting my head fall backward. "I was giving you a perfectly good out and you just refuse to take it, huh? What, do you enjoy rejection? Do you get off on humiliation? If so, I don't kink shame. I'll play along, but at least be honest with me. I don't Domme for free, you know."

"You haven't rejected me," Galen pointed out.

"Pretty sure I have."

"No, you haven't. You say it isn't right, you tell me we aren't mates, but you have never told me that you don't want to be my mate. That's different."

"Pretty tricky line you're trying to walk. I feel like lots of people have said that right before they find themselves with a stalking charge."

"I'm serious. If you honestly told me you didn't want me, I'd give it up. You never have, though. You always come back here, no matter what happens, so I know you're not entirely against the idea. You might have reasons that you don't think it'll work, that you're afraid, but that's not the same as rejection."

"And just how long do you plan to wait around hoping I see the light?"

Galen shrugged, then pushed his glasses back up his nose. "As long as it takes, I guess. I've been here since you became a Spirit. My life is long, and I'm fine with spending it waiting for you."

"Sounds like a cuckhold thing," I muttered.

"Maybe, or maybe you're just worth waiting for. You don't realize how amazing you are, but that doesn't make it any less true."

I gave him one hell of a side-eye. "If you think being all romantic is going to get you anything, you really don't know me."

"What, are you trying to tell me your heart doesn't beat a little faster when I say things like that?"

I could only pray he couldn't actually hear my heart or he'd know just how right he was. It was harder to lie when the truth was right there in the person's face. Still, I'd give it a try. "Please. That works on teenage girls and middle-aged virgins who read romance novels. I'm not that kind of girl."

"You say that because you don't want to be that kind of girl," Galen said. "You don't want to ask for things you don't think you'll get, so you tell yourself you don't need any of it. That's different from saying you really don't want it. So, we'll see, but I plan to do whatever I think I need to."

"What is this, a warning? Are we adversaries now? Thanks, but I have enough enemies."

"Enemies to lovers is a thing, isn't it?" He smiled, the expression bothersome. He almost looked like some eager kid ready to take on some big challenge. "But, that's not a problem for today. Like I said, I've waited years—I'll wait longer. For now, why don't you take a shower, borrow some clothes from the guest room, then we'll eat."

Was that one of the things that Galen did that won me over? Instead of pushing, he just remained steady, unwilling to get scared off or dissuaded by repeated failures. If he'd chased, I'd have run, but instead he just waited. It made me think of how a person tamed a fearful dog, by just sitting there near them until they got used to it.

So I got up, off the couch, then thanked Galen for the suggestion.

I doubted that a shower—no matter how hot—was going to wash off the things that bothered me. My problems were far too messy to be washed off with a bit of water.

* * * *

After a shower, a change of clothing and the food Galen had left on the counter for me, I found myself sitting on Galen's porch. He'd stepped into his office to deal with pack problems, which gave me a moment to myself. Every now and then, I'd hear roars from the basement. Once, the entire house shook, but Galen had assured me that even Trey couldn't break out of those cells. They could hold anything—including a rabid Werebear.

Not that it helped my conscience at all. Him escaping wasn't my bigger problem—it was helping him.

However, I saw no path to that. Instead, I had items that Trey owned spread out before me. Given that he wasn't expected to return to his old him, the family that had fostered him had sent his personal belongings to Galen's. They'd done so so quickly, it further showed how little they gave a damn about him.

An entire life, broken down to this…

It was weird to see it all, to know that if Trey didn't get better, this was all that would be left of him. Would that be the case with me, too? When I went—which I knew could happen at any time—what would still be here for those left behind?

A house full of shiny baubles and things I'd stolen? A pretty fantastic sex toy collection? A lot of stories many people wouldn't quite believe? It was almost terrifying how little really remained at the end of one's life.

And fuck did I hate thinking that as I looked over the items from Trey. There were yearbooks, sketchbooks full of scantily clad girls—he was a pretty good artist—and random electronics. It all fit into a large box, telling me he didn't have a lot of clothes, either. Then again, he struck me as the type who never really settled in anywhere. He might have been nineteen, but he'd still lived the life of a kid who had both grown up too fast and not at all.

I picked up a backpack, opening the pockets. He hadn't had it with him during the attack, but I had no idea why he would have left it behind at his house. We weren't even entirely sure when he'd gotten attacked. It seemed he had left his house in the middle of the night, then was found on the side of a road. What happened between those two points only Trey and his attacker could answer.

I had no idea what I was looking for, as though some answer might come to me just by riffling through his belongings. Or maybe it was just my attempt to feel like I was doing something.

Or, fuck, maybe I was just torturing myself over this all.

In one pocket of the bag, I found a few baggies full of Cloud, both ones from Ryder and myself. The crystals had turned brown, telling me they'd passed the time they'd be good. I set them aside to dispose of later. Below that, I found a sweater and a pair of leather gloves—never a good sign when dealing with a delinquent. At the bottom of the bag, my fingers wrapped around something hard. I pulled it out, frowning at the burner phone.

I recalled back when these brick-like prepaid phones were all a teenager could get, but now they worked to keep a person's identity a secret. In fact, they were almost exclusively used by people up to no good.

I pressed the power button on the side of the phone, and the screen lit up. Once it turned on fully, it vibrated as waiting texts came in. I scrolled through them, moving past the ones from kids looking for their fix. This wasn't the phone he'd used when talking to me…

Judging from the date of the earlier text messages, this had to be the phone he used to contact Ryder with. Which makes it my only true line to him…

Harrison's words came back to me, the fact he'd said the person who caused the damage could potentially repair it—at least some of it. He didn't think Ryder would do it, but what other choice did I have?

My hands trembled as I worked through the notes in the phone until I found the number I was looking for. It had no name, but instead said Sparrow. I pressed it to call the number.

"Who is this?" came a voice that made my stomach clench with a fear I hated but couldn't deny. It showed what a number Ryder had done on my mind that he could make me this fearful with his voice.

I took one deep breath to center myself, demanding my voice come out strong. "I think you know."

Silence met me for a moment before a dark chuckle came through the line. "I never expected to have you reach out to me."

"Well, after what you did to Trey, I couldn't help it."

"Trey? Oh, is that the bear?"

The fucker didn't even know his name? The complete lack of care had me tightening my hand around the phone in anger. He'd damaged and possibly killed a kid and he didn't even think his name important enough to take notice of?

"So you admit it?"

"I had a seller who got out of line. He was selling other's product in my territory. He knew the risks and did it anyway. Really, if this is anyone's fault, it's yours."

"I didn't attack him."

"No, but you sent him into the lion's den. You got him involved, fed him lies about how you were going to help somehow, then left him out to dry. If you hadn't come around, it never would have happened. Fuck, to think that the girl I've been looking for is the same one causing me so many problems."

I hated that he was right, that his words mirrored the fears and guilt already inside me. Still, breaking down wouldn't get what I wanted.

"That isn't what we're talking about, though, is it? I mean, you didn't call just to yell at me about some kid."

"How do you know that?"

"Well, that'd be stupid. You have enough reason to hate me all on your own. Don't you want to cry and complain to me? Tell me to leave you alone, that I'm a horrible person? Wouldn't be the first fucking time I'd heard that in my life."

"So why do you want me to say it? Why do you care?"

He paused, then let out a soft laugh that sounded far too much like Harrison. "What first drew me to you was your mind. It was different than others, like a maze I could get lost in forever. After that, I had to know more about you. I asked around, gathered information, and found out you were far more unique than I would have thought. It's funny, because what I wanted more than anything was to overthrow Harrison, to get back what was mine, and to think that you did it. It makes sense that we're bound together, doesn't it?"

"Not really. One of us is a psychopath, and even with my questionable choices, I'm pretty sure it's not me."

"Ah, I love that bite of yours. Too many people just cower for me, but not you." He said nothing else for so long, I moved the phone from my ear to look at the screen and make sure he was still there. Finally, he went on. "It started with your mind, then your background, but you know what really made me settle on having you?"

"My charming personality?"

"Harrison. I saw him arrive to pick you up when you were drunk. Do you know how he looked at you? I've seen him get everything in his life, just given the things taken from me. He took all of our power, stole it to become the head of our clan while I got left with nothing. Not a Mind but not a human, either. Stuck between worlds with no one there to save me. I planned to take everything from him—I always want to do that—but when I saw him pick you up that day, when I saw the panic on his face, I realized you'd leave a deeper wound than anything else."

"So all this damage, all the hurt people, the dead ones, it's all because you have a weird brother complex?"

"Everything comes back to some petty hatred," Ryder said. "But you focus on that instead of the fact that I will have you? I'd figure you'd worry more about yourself. You really are fucking weird."

"Not the first time someone said that, won't be the last. I'm not worried about it because I already knew that."

"So why did you call me?"

"I heard that when someone damages a person's mind like you did, that the person who did it can repair at least some of the damage."

Ryder was quiet for nearly a full moment before he responded. "That's true. It still isn't a sure thing, and the process to repair the damage isn't a pleasant or easy one, but yeah, it's true. I'm guessing this means you're going to beg me to save your little bear friend?"

"He has a name," I shoved out between gritted teeth.

"Does he anymore? Didn't think vegetables needed names."

And just like that, I regretted my choice. I hated the idea of this asshole winning anything, and the thought of sacrificing myself to him burned. However, I calmed myself with the fact that Trey was far more important than my hatred of Ryder.

"I want you to fix him."

"And why would I do that? His punishment's pretty fitting for going rogue."

I took one more deep breath before forcing out words that I really didn't want to say. I could hear everyone in my life yelling at me over it, telling me this was stupid, that I was making yet another dumb choice, that if I just talked to them first, we'd find another way.

The problem was that this was my fault. No one else seemed to care about Trey, writing him off as unimportant. They saw his injury and death as unfortunate but ultimately just part of life. They all saw me as more important, as though we could trade his life for mine.

I wasn't okay with that, though, since I'd put him in the position that had ended up harming him. I had to take responsibility and do whatever I could to make this right, no matter what that meant as far as my safety or life. Sure, I wanted to have my normal, happy life. I wanted to keep annoying people, to live my life as I wanted, but I refused to trade Trey's future for my own.

So I stopped hesitating, stopped procrastinating, and uttered the words that I knew from the start I'd say. "If you agree to fix Trey, I'll trade myself for him."