And it ripped my heart to shreds.
I hadn’t known Ren as long as I’d known Shaun, and even though Ren and I had messed around, we only had that one night and morning. There was so much we didn’t get to experience together. The same with Shaun. His life had ended because of my stupid mistakes before he got a chance to really live. And Ren?
The truth was, things were over between Ren and me before they really ever got started, and I didn’t know who I was crying for more. If it was for me or for what Ren and I never really had a chance to find, or if it was over Val.
Chapter Fifteen
Waking up Tuesday morning hurt skin deep and further down, into the bone and muscle. My eyes ached and my temples pounded from the lack of sleep and the crying. I’d cried so much last night that I was sure there were no tears left in me.
I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling, and drew in a deep, even breath. My face felt crusty. That was gross, maybe even a little bit pathetic. Not that crying made you weak or pitiful. Once upon a time, I used to think that, and then I grew up.
But I had gotten the tears out. Even though my chest felt like I’d driven a stake through it and all I wanted to do was plant my face in the pillow, I couldn’t.
I was hurt. I was grieving Val. I was heartbroken, but I couldn’t wallow in any of it.
There was too much to do, and I didn’t know how much time I’d have. At any moment, the prince—Drake—could reappear, and while I was convinced of my badass ninja skills, I knew I wouldn’t win a battle against him. Not yet at least, especially with how easily he . . . he had taken care of Val last night. I hadn’t even seen him move. If he came to take me, I’d be gone.
And who knew if I would be turned over to the Order or the Elite by Ren? They could come for me at any second, even if . . . even if Ren didn’t turn me in. This Kyle guy could figure it out all on his own, because he knew the halfling hadn’t been Val. So there wasn’t time to waste.
I needed to check in with Brighton to see if she had discovered anything about the supposed communities of good fae. I needed to fill out a stupid report even though going to the headquarters felt like I’d be walking into the lion’s den with meat hanging around my neck. Paying a visit to Jerome was also on the list.
I also needed to go withdraw from classes.
Time to get moving.
With a low groan, I rolled over onto my side and swung my legs off the bed. My thoughts started to drift toward Ren as I undressed the rest of the way, but I pulled the brakes on that car crash of a thought process. Then Val’s face popped into my head, and I had to hold my breath until I felt dizzy. Nope. Nope. A thousand nopes. I was not going to spend a single second thinking about him, Val, or how I felt when I had work to do. Later, when I had time, I’d let myself have those moments again, but until then, I had to keep my shit together.
After showering, I started to walk out to the kitchen in my old, tattered robe, but stopped at the bedroom door. The thing was practically see-through in certain areas, and Tink wasn’t this asexual little brownie anymore.
My cheeks heated as I recalled every time he’d gotten an eyeful. No need to repeat that. Pivoting around, I changed into a pair of worn jeans and a long-sleeved thermal.
Hair half dried, I twisted it up in a knot and secured it as I walked into the kitchen. Tink was standing by the sink, peering down into it. He didn’t look up as I walked to the fridge. “You came home alone last night,” he said.
I ignored the question as I opened the fridge door and grabbed a Coke.
“And he’s not here now,” Tink continued. I turned around and realized he had a little stick-looking thing in his hand with a fine thread dangling off the end of it, disappearing into the sink. “Not that I’m complaining. I needed a break from him.”
I popped the tab off the Coke and took a drink. Tink had filled the sink up with water. I had no idea what he—
Tink cocked his arm back and moved the stick—no, it was a pole—forward. My eyes widened.
I shot forward, almost dropping the soda. “What the fuck? Tink! Are you fishing in my sink?”
He looked up. “Yeah,” he said, drawing the word out.
Sitting the Coke on the counter, I slowly approached the sink. “If there are fish in my sink, I swear to God, I’m flushing you down a toilet.”
Tink shot me a bored look. “As if I’d fit down a toilet.”
“Tink!”
He sighed. “Relax. They’re not real fish.” Dropping to his knees, he reached into the water and pulled out a small, red plastic fish. “I tried to order real ones from Amazon, but alas, they do not sell them.”
I fell back against the counter, breathing a sigh of relief. Thank God for the small things in life.