Viper (Fallen Angel #2)(62)
The air was chillier up here, the building one of the taller ones around these parts. A concrete wall surrounded the perimeter, giving it an enclosed feel, but that was what I liked about coming up here. I could sit in my folding lawn chair, look up at the sky, and pretend I could see the stars despite the bright lights of the city.
And that was what I did now.
I laid the chair out flat so I could stretch out on it and folded my arms behind my head. The anger that’d boiled so quick and fast inside me outside the Neils’ house had simmered now, bringing only confusion and hurt to the forefront. I didn’t want to feel any of those things. Why couldn’t I be the kind of guy who didn’t care so much? The kind that could have a longstanding acquaintance with someone else without it turning into more?
It all boiled down to one thing: I was guilty of caring too much, and Viper was guilty of not caring enough.
Thirty-Nine
Viper
IF SOMEONE ASKED me how I ended up standing in front of Halo’s apartment three hours after I’d watched him walk away from me, I wouldn’t be able to tell them. But that was where I found myself, staring at the peeling paint on the left-hand corner of his apartment’s door, trying to find the nerve to knock.
After our epic showdown in front of my mom’s house, I’d forced myself to go back inside and eat some of the cake I knew she’d spent the afternoon making, figuring there was no reason to make everyone in my life hate me by the end of the night. Mom had been wise enough not to delve deeper into the surly mood that had only intensified after going out for my “smoke,” and after I’d finally kissed her goodnight and headed down to the train station, I’d been tempted to stop at a liquor store and buy a bottle of cheap whiskey to drown out the words I could now hear on repeat in my head.
My words. Halo’s words. All the ugly words that had been spewed between us in the heat of one of the most painful arguments I’d ever been a part of. Over the years, I’d become a master of not giving a shit. But from the moment the angel had pulled away from me at my mom’s dinner table, to his final you’re making a mistake, the cut had been made. I’d left it there to bleed, and now I was numb, in a state of shock over what the hell I’d just done to him, to me, to us, and I realized I didn’t need alcohol, because without him, I didn’t want to feel a fucking thing.
Raising my hand, I knocked and waited. I had no idea what I was going to say when he opened the door—if he opened the door—but I’d obviously caught the train here for a reason.
When there was no answer or movement from behind the door, I knocked again, louder this time, determined to see him or sleep on his welcome mat until he opened the damn door the next morning.
God, my chest ached something fierce, and if I hadn’t ripped my heart out earlier and tossed it on the ground, I would’ve been worried I was having a heart attack as I stood there making a deal, with whoever might listen, that Halo open up his damn door.
When five, ten, fifteen fucking minutes passed and the door remained firmly shut, I cursed and whacked the heel of my palm against it. Fuck. What did I expect? That after every shitty thing I’d said in an attempt to push Halo away from me, he’d suddenly open up his door and invite me inside? Hell, at this stage I didn’t even know why I was here. When we’d been going at it with one another, everything I’d been saying made sense, but now nothing made sense.
I took a step back to turn around and sit my ass down on the ground, and as I did, some movement over in the fire exit caught my attention. Halo had just pulled open the door to the stairwell, and as his eyes locked with mine, he froze in place. He gripped the door, his feet locked, and his shocked expression changed to one full of disgust. Then he took a step back and let go of the door, and before it fell shut, he turned and bolted up the stairs.
With no other thought than following him, seeing him, getting closer to him, I took off after Halo like the hounds of hell were chasing me. I shoved open the door, and as I burst into the stairwell and it thundered shut behind me, Halo stopped one flight up, his eyes clashing with mine from the landing above, his hands braced on the metal railing as he glared down at me. His breathing was heavy enough that I could hear it in the confined space even though we were a floor apart, and when my eyes shifted to the stairs and then back to his, my intention must’ve been clear, because the angel took off.
Halo darted up the next set of steps as I climbed the first, going two at a time in a race to reach him, and with my eyes firmly on him, I had the advantage. I could see the distance between us, he couldn’t, and every time he glanced back to see where I was, he slowed, until we got to the final set and I closed in. He was almost home free and out the door, but just as his hand landed on the door handle, I reached for him and my fingers caught his wrist.
The contact sent an electric jolt through me, and him too, judging by the way his head whipped around, and I took full advantage of the distraction. I tightened my fingers until I had a firm hold of him, and when I was finally opposite him, I tugged on his hand, drawing him to me.
Halo clamped a hand down over my fingers and pried them off his wrist, but I turned my hand, caught hold of his, and pulled him toward me with so much force that he stumbled and put a hand up to brace himself. As his palm landed on my chest, right over my heart, I wondered if he could feel how hard it was pounding. I wondered if he knew it was for him and if he even cared. Then Halo angled his face up, his eyes flashing with fury as he dug his fingers into me as hard as he could and shoved me away from him. I was caught off guard; my grip on him loosened, and he yanked his arm free. Then he took a step back, his eyes trained on me with a fuck you look if ever I’d seen one, as he reached behind him for the door and shoved down on the handle.