Chapter 31

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Good at breaking bones. Bad at breaking up.

Rowan

I pop a french fry in my mouth and watch Briar's mouth open, close, open again to take a bite of her burger. It's been thirty minutes of this—ten in the car, twenty waiting for our food. She's speechless.

All at once, she swallows and gathers herself. "It's not me. It's you." She swears. "Wait. No." She swears again. "I said that backwards. It's not you. It's me."

Snorting as I get a drink of soda, I choke on the burning liquid. Pleasant chatter in the steak house around us covers up my coughing fit as I regain my ability to speak. "It took you half an hour to come up with that? And you messed it up?"

She drops her burger on her plate. "Breaking up with someone is new for me!"

"You don't say?"

"I mean it. This—" She flicks a finger between us. "—is over."

"This—" I mimic her action. "—never began. As I recall, we were faking our relationship, so there's nothing to end."

Her lips part as her gaze drops. "Right." The tension in her shoulders eases. "I'm glad you understand. I think it would be best if I manage the black-and-white ball on my own. It's been…fun, but we've found what we're looking for, so we can start dissolving our involvement with each other by the end of next week. Like you wanted before I got under your skin."

"What happened?" I ask.

Her brows furrow. "Pardon?"

"Commitment issues don't appear out of nowhere. What happened that made you so scared of relationships?"

Her attention drops to the basket of steak fries between us. She presses her lips together and toys with one of her thin dress straps. "Who knows…" Her eyes close. "Relationships are messy in our field. You have to know that. I'm a lot to handle and you're a good guy. You don't need someone like me to ruin your peace."

I lift one brow. "I have no intentions of abandoning my family in an effort to become a yoga instructor."

"You know what I mean."

"I'm certain I don't. Peace isn't really an option in our field. The only way I'll get any peace is if I survive getting out, and I don't see that block appearing in my color-coded schedule any time soon."

She sighs. "Things are falling into place for you. We'll get the people behind the Maxim Project out of the way. You'll take care of your parents however you see fit. Your family will be your family, and you'll run it in a way that lets you sleep at night. At the end of it all, you live happily ever after, and I go back to doing what I do best."

"Which is?"

Briar lets go of her strap and meets my gaze squarely. "Destroying people from the inside out."

"To add to your collection of disembodied fingers on display in pastel-tinted jars?"

"You're not taking me seriously."

I grab an onion ring from the other basket in the center of the table, dip it in the cup of tartar sauce it came with, and take a bite. "It's hard for me to picture you destroying people."

"Which, again, is all part of what makes me so good at it."

"You've yet to destroy me."

"Because I like you." She freezes after the words leave her mouth. Her fingers close into a fist on the table as her face twists into the picture of regret.

"I like you, too, princess." I take another bite of my onion ring. "Why can't we explore that?"

She murmurs, "Because it's a bad idea. You don't know what I've done."

"I don't care what you've done. I can almost guarantee my hands aren't any cleaner than yours. You know what I think?"

Non-committal, she hums, lifts her burger, and takes another bite.

"I think real things scare you the most. You're plagued by your inability to control the real world perfectly, which is why you pretend you can." I reach across the table, grip her wrist. "Take it from me, Briar. You can only plan so much before something turns your world upside down and changes your entire point of view. If you don't want that something to be me, why not?"

Her mouth hangs open for several moments. Finally, she pulls her hand out of my grasp, wipes her fingers on a napkin, and tucks them beneath the table. "You don't get it. I've orchestrated everything you feel for me. That's what makes me a monster. I'm good at endearing myself to people even though I don't deserve the affection."

"If that's what you believe, who does?" Sweeping back my hair, I release a tight breath. "You're not the only monster at this table, and if my monstrous pieces need to turn from breaking bones into manufacturing emotions, so be it. We'll become the same sort of creature until your heart beats in my chest. If you want to believe I didn't chose the way I feel about you, fine. I refuse to give up everything you've fabricated inside me."

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Don't I? If you must, insist that I don't have a choice about how I feel. Insist that you've fed me a drug. But don't think for a moment an addict isn't going to fight for their next hit until they're dead."

Her lip trembles. "Rowan…"

"It's too late for me. Whether you want to admit it or not." I let a wry smile twist my lips. "You can't adopt a pet then abandon it. I'm a lifelong commitment."

"I thought you weren't my pet."

"I'm sure I've never said that before. You must be imagining it."

Her eyes narrow, as though she is so incomprehensibly aware just how full of it I am. So she shifts the subject. "You'll at least wear a tux to the ball?"

"I will not."

"Then I don't want you to go. You'll embarrass me."

I hum "Pity. I've already got a ticket."

"A miscalculation on my part."

"I like when you miscalculate things."

She takes a deep breath, goes back to fiddling with her dress strap. "Is that a pitiful attempt at flirting?"

"Yes."

"You're terrible at it when you're trying."

I lift a shoulder. "At least you could identify my efforts."

"This is a bad idea, for both of us. You're going to get hurt."

"I'll take my chances."

"I'm not joking. I will hurt you. I already have. And it will happen again."

Chuckling, I lift my hand, pinkie extended. "Promise?"

Her attention lowers, but she doesn't move.

"Fifty percent of my gripping strength, right here," I murmur. "Up for grabs."

Eyes rolling, she latches her finger around mine. "Why are you like this?"

"Like what?" Pulling her hand toward me, I kiss her little scar.