Kat looked over at me as she hit the ignition button and laughed.
Legs cramped, I scowled at her even though it was good, really good, to hear her laugh again. As she turned the car around, she flipped the radio to the rock station, and just to be annoying, I flipped it to the station that played nonstop Elvis. Moorefield wasn’t a long drive, but with the way she looked right now, you’d think it was going to take hours.
Kat’s chin jutted out, and I hid my grin by looking out the window. “So how did you drop Butter-face?”
“I told him I have plans with my mom. It’s not like I spend every waking minute with Blake.”
I snorted.
“What?” There was a pause and then she said, “What? You know what I’m doing with him. It’s not like we’re hanging out and watching movies.”
“Do I really know what you’re doing with him?” I asked softly, staring at the blur of trees as we hit the highway.
“Yes.”
Jaw tightening, I angled my body toward her, which wasn’t much given the limited space.
“You know, your whole life doesn’t have to involve training with Bradley. You can take time off.”
“You could also join us. I liked it…when you helped out, when you were there,” she admitted.
I’d liked helping her, too, up until the moment Douche Bag could’ve killed her. “You know my stance on that, but you need to stop avoiding Dee. She misses you. And that’s just messed up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” I blinked. “What for? For being a crappy friend?”
“I’m not trying to be a crappy friend, Daemon.” Anger flooded her voice. “You know what I’m doing. You’re the one who told me to keep her out of this. Just tell Dee I’m sorry, okay?”
“No.”
“Can we not talk?”
“And that would also be a no,” I said, but other than giving her directions to the subdivision where Vaughn lived, I didn’t say anything else. Not until she parked the car halfway between the six houses I narrowed it down to. “How has your training been going?”
“If you got over yourself, you’d know.”
I smirked. “Are you still able to freeze things? Move objects around?” When she nodded, I eyed her closely. “Have you had any unexpected outbursts of power?”
“No.”
“Then why are you still training? The whole purpose was for you to get control. You have.”
She groaned. “That’s not the only reason, Daemon. And you know it.”
“Obviously I don’t,” I retorted, pushing back against the seat. Jesus, my legs were going numb.
“God, I love how you’re all up in my personal business but don’t want to be involved in it.”
“I like talking about your personal business. It’s usually entertaining and always good for a laugh.”
“Well, I don’t,” she snapped.
I sighed as I shifted in the seat to no use. “This car sucks.”
“It was your idea. I, on the other hand, think the car is a perfect size. But that might be because I’m not the size of a mountain.”
I snickered. “You’re the size of a little, itty-bitty doll.”
“If you say a vacant doll, I will hurt you.” She wound the necklace chain around her fingers. “Got that?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I watched her stare forward. A few seconds passed before she yawned. Even though there wasn’t much light from the nearby streetlamps making its way into the car, I could see the weariness in every line of her face. I’d seen it every day for a week, getting worse and worse.
I sighed. “You’re worn down. Dee’s worried. She won’t stop bugging me to check on you and see what’s wrong, since you won’t hang out with her anymore.”
“Oh, so we’re back to you doing things to make your sister happy? Are you getting bonus points for asking?”
“No.” I reached out, gently catching her chin and turning her gaze to mine. “I’m worried. I’m worried for a thousand different reasons and I hate this—I hate feeling like I can’t do anything about it. That history is on repeat and even though I can see it as clear as day, I can’t stop it.”
Her chest rose with a soft inhale as her gaze searched mine. Lifting her hand, she wrapped her fingers around my wrist, inhaling sharply when static jumped from my skin to hers. She said nothing, like always, but in that moment, as she stared at me with an acute sense of desperation, I realized she wasn’t just being quiet. There were words she wanted to speak. They were in her eyes and the tense lines of her beautiful face. They hung in the air between us, constantly unspoken.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.