Forged(48)

“What’s the other five percent?”

“The way you look in my shirt.”

She rolls her eyes. “In that case, I’m taking it off immediately.”

“I’ll like that even better.”


I dodge another punch, and end up alongside her, staring at the ceiling.

“So who’d you change for?”

“This guy from Saltwater. I was hopelessly in love with him and he didn’t even see me.”

“I didn’t see you at first either, Bree. Sometimes people are stupid.”

“But I walked away when I didn’t think you appreciated me. I didn’t do that with Lock. His ma took me in when mine died. We grew up under the same roof, and I think he thought of me as a sibling of sorts, a best friend. I let him have everything—and I mean everything—thinking that it would change things, that he’d look at me differently, love me the way I loved him. Truth is, if someone doesn’t see you before sex, they definitely don’t see you any more after.”

She runs a hand over the mattress between us, smoothing out wrinkles in the sheet.

“Lock tried to make a run for it before his eighteenth birthday, and washed up dead on the beach. With the exception of his younger brother, Heath, I was alone and completely lost, just weeks from my sixteenth birthday and a Snatching I wasn’t certain was coming. I promised myself then to be all I ever needed. If I opened up to someone again, it would be because the feelings were mutual and it would benefit us both, not just him.”

“Do you regret it? Lock?”

“No. It’s not one of my fondest memories, but it made me who I am now. I’m stronger because of it. How could I regret something like that?”

“I regret a lot of things. Like my final words to Blaine, and all those people we left behind in Burg, and the way I treated you.”

“I could have been more upfront. I could have told you exactly why I never spent a night, but instead I made you guess.”

“I should have seen.”

“Maybe.” She rubs the hem of the blanket with her thumb. Outside our room, a door is closed forcefully. The shower turns on. Bree climbs from the bed despite my objections.

“I should probably go see what September has planned for today. Am I right to assume you’re going to keep helping Harvey regardless of how much I distrust him?”

I nod.

“Glad to know you’re still not afraid to tick me off.”

She retrieves her clothes and changes with her back to me. Moments later she’s in her typical boots and cargo pants, top tucked in at the waistband so my eyes can’t help but fall there. She bunches up my shirt and throws it at me.

“When you’re ready to talk about Blaine, let me know. And it’s okay if the answer is never—maybe it’s something you have to deal with on your own, maybe I overstepped the other day on the boat—but I’m here if you need me.”

“Bree,” I say as she pulls open the door. “I really do love you.”

She smirks. “You’re such a sap.”

The door clicks shut, only to reopen a heartbeat later. Holding on to the frame, she leans into the room.

“I love you, too,” she says. “I’m pretty sure you already know that, but I was worried sap might not have translated properly, and wanted to clarify.”

“How very thoughtful of you.” Bree smiles at me a long moment, and when she finally turns to leave, I toss back, “Sap.”


I have a horrible experience while showering. One moment I’m invincible, drunk off the memories of last night, buzzing from Bree’s words this morning, and the next I’m crouched and hugging my knees as the water rains down on me, muffling sobs into my fists.

How can I be so happy when my brother is dead? How can I be devastated when Bree’s forgiven me? I find my feet and force myself upright. I slap my cheeks. Turn the water cold just to jolt the life back into my veins.

Get downstairs, I tell myself. Go back to work. This will all be easier when the fight’s finished.

When I step back into the bedroom, Sammy is sitting on the bed, his arms folded over his chest.

“Why was the door locked when I came up last night?”

“Yeah . . . Sorry about that. Where’d you crash, a couch?”

“September and Aiden took the couches so the team could have beds. Remember?” I don’t, since I was downstairs when the team decided how to split up rooms for the duration of our stay. “My only option was Emma’s,” he clarifies.

“So you stayed with her? That couldn’t have been too terrible for you.”

“She made me sleep on the floor, Gray,” he says very seriously. “And she swore that if I even tried to get in the bed, she would knee me so hard between the legs that I’d never be able to produce children.”

I smile. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“Give me a heads-up next time, okay? I need to mentally prepare myself for floorboards when I have my mind set on a mattress.”

“It just sort of happened. It wasn’t planned.”

“But it did”—he raises his eyebrows suggestively—“happen?” I shrug, and Sammy breaks into the biggest grin I have ever seen grace his features. Then he claps my shoulder like I’ve done something heroic. “Think she’ll be any less uptight now?”