Wicked (A Wicked Saga, #1)(88)

"Then tell me, Ivy. Make me understand."

My mouth opened, but there were no words, just silence and a deep cutting shame when I thought about the night I lost everything. How could I tell him? How could I tell anyone? Pivoting around, I started walking.

"That's right," Ren called out. "Just walk away."

And that's what I did.

~

The distant rumble of thunder matched my mood as I roamed aimlessly through my apartment Tuesday night. The sun had long since disappeared, and I'd seen on the TV that severe storms would be moving through the area the next two days. Perfect.

I stared out the French doors leading to the balcony, watching the rain pound the wooden boards as I counted the seconds between the flash of light and answering thunder. Twenty seconds. When I was younger, Adrian taught me to count the seconds between the strike of lightning and the boom of the thunder to tell how many miles away the storm was. Probably wasn't the most correct method of judging where a storm was located, but to this day it was an old habit.

But one thing Adrian hadn't taught me was what to do with those seconds.

I never knew what to do with those seconds.

Oddly, as I rested my forehead against the cool glass, I wasn't afraid for myself. The fear churning through me, despite the fact there was a good chance I wouldn't survive tomorrow night, had nothing to do with my own fate. We lived with death and we knew it waited for each and every one of us. We were taught not to fear the inevitable, but again, what we were never taught was how to live on when those around us left. The fear I tasted in the back of my throat was for all those who might not survive tomorrow night.

For Val, and even David and Miles, and Ren.

I feared for them, but not myself. And I feared what would happen if we weren't successful tomorrow night. Knots tightened in my stomach at the mere thought of the gate opening. Mankind had no idea how frail their position of power was, and once the knights came through, their position would be even more precarious. If they managed to find the halfling and knock boots, producing a baby, then those doors would never close. Nothing would stop the fae from taking humans back to their world again or from coming into ours in far greater masses.

Over the hum of the TV, I heard Tink's bedroom door close, and I turned around. He'd been in the kitchen, making himself a hot pocket or something. Living with him right now was what I imagined a couple faced when going through a divorce. Awkward as hell.

My gaze fell to where my phone sat on the wooden chest. Under the fear was a sour taste of regret. If I were to meet my end tomorrow night, would I do so without remorse? No. Regret filled me, and God, I didn't want to go out that way. I'd made major mistakes in my life and people paid the price in blood, and that was something I could truly never undo, but everything with Ren felt like I was just stacking on the regret, and the weight was suffocating me.

I slowly walked over to the chest, my bare feet padding across the wood floors. My heart jumped as I reached for the phone, coming up short. If I called him, what would I say? What would I do? Admit that I was a coward, because in a way I was. So afraid of allowing anyone to get that close that I had shut him out. He was right. I'd been slamming the door in people's faces the entire time, and Jo Ann and Val were the only ones to squeak through.

Next to my phone was one of my textbooks. Statistics. Man, I hated that class. As I stared at the book, a sort of epiphany slammed into me with the force of an ice cream truck being chased by overheated kids in the dead of summer.

I wanted more from life than my duty to the Order. After all, that was why I was taking a class I hated to earn a degree that I hoped I'd be able to use while I worked for the Order.

I wanted more.

But I wasn't allowing myself to have more—not really. Not the intangible things that counted most, like friendship with no walls, and real human contact. Lust. Love.

A clap of thunder boomed, causing me to jump. I didn't need to count anything to know that the storm was closer. Sitting down on the edge of the couch, I picked up the remote and flipped the TV off. I looked at the phone again, my lips pressed together.

Could I let go of the fear of losing Ren so I could at least experience him?

I wasn't sure or if it was an option at this point. I'd walked away from him twice already. Tucking my hair back behind my ears, I leaned against the cushions and sighed. I sucked. I sucked huge—

A knock on the door jarred me.

I sat up as my heart lodged itself in my throat. I waited there for a moment, and then the knock came again. Jumping to my feet, I hurried over to the door and stretched up, peering through the peephole.

"Oh my God," I whispered.

Although it was dark, I could make out Ren's profile. He was standing sideways, his head tipped back, and I thought maybe his eyes were closed. Ren was here—he was actually here, and I couldn't believe it.

And I was just standing there, my palms pressed flat against the door, my mouth hanging open, looking like a complete goober.

I glanced down the hall to make sure the door to Tink's room was closed. As I opened the door, I hoped Tink stayed in there.

Ren turned, lowering his chin and dropping his hands from his hips. He was drenched from the rain, the shirt clinging to his body, his hair a wet mess. Our eyes collided and held. Lightning cut through the sky behind him, casting his features in an eerie glow before it fizzled out.

He placed his hands on the doorframe and leaned in as his chest rose with a broad inhale. "If you tell me to leave, I'll turn and walk away. I swear that, Ivy, but I had to try one more time. I'm not going to possibly go to my grave without trying. Please. Don't let me go."