“But you shouldn’t have to be. None of this would be a problem for you if you’d watched the meteor shower the way you wanted to. You had a chance to run. I hate knowing you stayed because you felt like you had to save me.”
The words prod against something molten inside of me, something too painful to acknowledge. Here in the back of the van with the thunder rolling and the hum of rain and tires over asphalt, we’re in our own world.
“I didn’t stay because?—”
“Yes, you did, and we both know it,” he interrupts.
I discard one wipe for another, going through a handful of them before the blood is cleansed. “So what if I did?”
Being with him is a hell of a lot better than anything else. Dying with him is the most alive I’ve ever felt. I’d take some of the pain away for both of us, some of the uncertainty, but the rest? I wouldn’t trade.
Even if we never get another chance to see what this can be.
“I’m scared,” he admits. “Not of dying. But of hurting you. I’m scared of being alone with you and losing it.”
Lacey and Colt keep their backs to us, their heads dipped together with Aimee in the passenger seat. RJ’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel.
“I’ve spent a long time taking care of myself, Grayson,” I say, my throat tight. “I know what I’m doing. You don’t have to worry so much. If we were alone together and you lost it, then I’d find another frying pan.”
A quick squeeze dots my fingers with antiseptic ointment and I brush it across the grazes on his ribs. His skin quivers at the touch.
These wounds won’t heal. And when he changes again, it won’t matter how much ointment I used.
“I do worry. You’re not stuck with me, no matter what warped sense of responsibility keeps you with me. You should get as far away from me as possible. You should work on coming up with an answer to whatyouwant out of this life.”
“What then?”
“You’re not responsible.”
I nod. “I know I’m not.”
A dark chuckle rumbles out of him. “Little liar.”
With the ointment slicked over his wounds, I grab a roll of gauze and unwind it. Grayson flinches when he arches off the van wall.
“I know what I want, Grayson.” I’m all business as I wrap the gauze around his abdomen and chest. “I want to walk outside and turn my face up to the sun and know the day is full of possibilities instead of dread. I want to go to Club Mera and dance without having to ask permission. I want a love like they write about in romance books, one I can fall asleep to knowing the night’s been spent right.”
A blush steals up my cheeks.
Those are pretty straightforward wants. Simple. Nothing too extraordinary to ask for. They feel like they are to me.
“We’re going to make it this time. We’re leaning on each other. We have a cure now; we’ll use my blood.” I swallow hard. “Hopefully it works with me being moonlocked.”
“You can’t have a night like that with Jrue. Not when he doesn’t understand you being moonlocked.” Grayson’s voice drops.
I shake my head. “He will. I’ll tell him when the time is right. Now it doesn’t matter. The potion to dampen the effects of the moon madness is fading. When we get home, we both need the cure.”
“You shouldn’t risk yourself by staying around me.”
I tie off the gauze and secure it with a piece of medical tape. “Why not? This won’t just help us. It will help everyone. Those wolves we treat like a disease because we don’t have a way to help them.”
His brows draw together in a grimace. “I don’t care about them. I care about you. I care about how you’ve had to suffer and lie your entire life and you’re still bending over backwards for other people.”
My hand stills and I force it into motion again, tucking the supplies into the kit. “You’re angry.”
“Of course I’m angry. I’m furious you’d risk yourself.”
Grayson’s hand locks around my wrist and he holds me for a second too long before unfurling his fingers with a whispered apology.