Shatter Me (Shatter Me, #1)(60)



I take his face in my hands, tip up on my toes and kiss him. His lips are 2 pillows, so soft, so sweet. “I love you.”

He’s looking into my eyes and looking at my mouth and his voice is a husky whisper. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

The 3 of us are packed and ready to go before James comes home from school. Adam and I collected the most important basic necessities: food, clothes, money Adam saved up. He keeps looking around the small space like he can’t believe he’s lost it so easily. I can only imagine how much work he put into it, how hard he tried to make a home for his little brother. My heart is in pieces for him.

His friend is an entirely different species.

Kenji is nursing new bruises, but seems in reasonable spirits, excited for reasons I can’t fathom. He’s oddly resilient and upbeat. It seems impossible to discourage him and I can’t help but admire his determination. But he won’t stop staring at me.

“So how come you can touch Adam?” he says after a moment.

“I don’t know.”

He snorts. “Bull.”

I shrug. I don’t feel the need to convince him that I have absolutely no idea how I got so lucky.

“How’d you even know you could touch him? Some kind of sick experiment?”

I hope I’m not blushing. “Where’s this place you’re taking us?”

“Why are you changing the subject?” He’s grinning. I’m sure he’s grinning. I refuse to look at him, though. “Maybe you can touch me, too. Why don’t you try?”

“You don’t want me to touch you.”

“Maybe I do.” He’s definitely grinning.

“Maybe you should leave her alone before I put that bullet back in your leg,” Adam offers.

“I’m sorry—is a lonely man not allowed to make a move, Kent? Maybe I’m actually interested. Maybe you should back the hell off and let her speak for herself.”

Adam runs a hand through his hair. Always the same hand. Always through his hair. He’s flustered. Frustrated. Maybe even embarrassed.

“I’m still not interested,” I remind him, an edge to my voice.

“Yes, but let’s not forget that this”—he motions to his battered face—“is not permanent.”

“Well, I’m permanently uninterested.” I want so badly to tell him that I’m unavailable. I want to tell him that I’m in a serious relationship. I want to tell him that Adam’s made me promises.

But I can’t.

I have no idea what it means to be in a relationship. I don’t know if saying “I love you” is code for “mutually exclusive,” and I don’t know if Adam was serious when he told James I was his girlfriend. Maybe it was an excuse, a cover, an easy answer to an otherwise complicated question. I wish he would say something to Kenji—I wish he would tell him that we’re together officially, exclusively.

But he doesn’t.

And I don’t know why.

“I don’t think you should decide until the swelling goes down,” Kenji continues matter-of-factly. “It’s only fair. I have a pretty spectacular face.”

Adam chokes on a cough that I think was a laugh.

“You know, I could’ve sworn we used to be cool,” Kenji says, leveling his gaze at Adam.

“I can’t remember why.”

Kenji bristles. “Is there something you want to say to me?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Then why am I still here?”

“Because I trust her.”

Kenji turns to look at me. He manages a goofy smile. “Aw, you trust me?”

“As long as I have a clear shot.” I tighten my hold on the gun in my hand.

His grin is crooked. “I don’t know why, but I kind of like it when you threaten me.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “You’ve got a sexy voice. Makes everything sound naughty.”

Adam stands up so suddenly he nearly knocks over the coffee table.

Kenji bursts out laughing, wheezing against the pain of his injuries. “Calm down, Kent, damn. I’m just messing with you guys. I like seeing psycho chick get all intense.” He glances at me, lowers his voice. “I mean that as a compliment—because, you know”—he waves a haphazard hand in my direction—“psycho kind of works for you.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Adam turns on him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kenji crosses his arms, annoyed. “Everyone is so uptight in here.”

Adam squeezes the gun in his hand. Walks to the door. Walks back. He’s pacing.

“And don’t worry about your brother,” Kenji adds. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

Adam doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t stop pacing. His jaw twitches. “I’m not worried about my brother. I’m trying to decide whether to shoot you now or later.”

“Later,” Kenji says, collapsing onto the couch. “You still need me right now.”

Adam tries to speak but he’s out of time.

The door clicks, beeps, unlatches open.

James is home.


Tahereh Mafi's Books