His hand is under my head when I wake up, his nose against my jaw, breath hot on my throat. He's so far gone into dreams his muscles are tensed and it takes me a few tries to slide out of his arms without fully waking him. He wakes up anyway and opens his eyes briefly to ensure that I'm still there before turning over, and taking the sheets with him.
Be up in a bit, he mumbles.
Just sleep, I whisper back.
***
I win permission from PJ to go have breakfast on the wall. He gives me a curious look and hesitates just long enough for me to blurt out a time-limit promise and then I am off with my coffee tumbler and a wax-paper wrapped piece of toast with cinnamon sugar, which I will forget about the minute I get there.
Jake. I invoke the name that still hurts to say out loud. It makes ache-pangs in my heart that echo in waves all over the inside of my body and the only way I can stop it is to hold my elbows tightly at my sides and bite the insides of my cheeks.
No one answers. The wind blows.
JAKE.
Jake died five years ago, Princess. He stepped off a fucking roof in a fucking far-away city and he's not coming back. Caleb is following me around the property lately. Wish he'd stop.
Not sure I believe that all the way, you know.
Yes, I'm aware. Your doubt is staggering, under the circumstances. Like the rest of us, Bridget, do you think he would stay away if he were still here on this earth?
You told me once that he was indeed still here.
When you hurt me the urge to hurt you back is fierce. I got a very good look at where your loyalties lie, Bridget.
It never mattered if I hurt you first, Diabhal. Don't make it seem as if it's equal.
What did you plan to talk with him about?
Ben.
Ben's gone and traded you again, hasn't he? 'Align with Lochlan and I'll be back soon and we can figure it out'. Is that what he said? Batman has done a number on Ben's mind. Do you really think he's doing that for Ben's benefit or for yours, for that matter? Bridget, you're not keeping up very well with your own games.
Ben hasn't factored in the aspect of me punishing him for leaving.
I see.
Maybe by the time he comes back there won't be anything left to figure out.
Because you've let yourself get closer still to the rat.
Maybe because he doesn't try to stand on everyone else to reach me.
He's the master, Bridget. Don't think for a second he isn't acting, here.
I know every aspect of that man. Don't even presume to tell me otherwise.
He surprises you often. So that would be your first lie of the morning.
I climb down from the rocks and turn back to pick up my coffee and toast. The wind is stinging my hair against my eyes but I stare evenly at Caleb.
Don't wreck my breakfast. I have plans and they're not with you.
Where are you going now?
None of your business.
You're going to sit on the filthy floor of the garage and eat your breakfast and hope that Jake shows up in your head? What if Cole shows up instead? What if you have lost your little mind? What if the fucking sky opens up and eats all of us whole? Bridget, I think it's time we got you some help. You're more than a little bit stalled here and I don't think having tea with Sam every day for five months fixed what's wrong with you.
There's nothing wrong with me.
He stops abruptly, ready to say more but not doing so. Push too hard and lose so much ground, right? I challenge him with my eyes to keep going but he's smarter than that and he gives in. Don't you dare tell me I'm crazy until you've seen what I have seen and felt what I've felt. Toast is a fucking accomplishment, as are words and feelings and trying to reach out with my arms and grab life rafts as they float by me as I drown here.
Follow me and I'll never speak to you again, Diabhal.
Threats work too.
