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“What do you want me to say?”
“Say?” he scoffs, sitting back into the chair with his head cocked to the side and his ankle resting on his knee. “Saying isn’t going to do shit anymore. You’ve gone to the point that you need to do something to make things right. And, again, I’m not talking about Casper,” he adds as a way of clarifying what he means.
Taking a scorching gulp of my coffee, I brace myself on my forearms over the kitchen island. The cat all but actually climbs onto my shoulders as he begs for my attention. He finally gives up, but instead of going away, he tucks himself between my arms, curling into a ball while I try to focus on anything except the conversation Christopher is trying to force on me.
Picking Chips up, I cradle him the way Georgina does, and he nuzzles into my chest, purring so loud that it sounds like a snore as I head towards the lounge. I’m not doing this shit with him. I’m not doing this shit or having this fucking conversation with any of them. If Casper wants at me, good on him, I can take him. But there are bigger things at play right now. Bigger evils that can destroy us all if we don’t fuck them up first.
“Fred,” Christopher calls, and in spite of my best effort to ignore him, I spin and bark, “What? What the fuck do you want me to say?”
“Nothing.”
“What the fuck do you want me to do, then?”
He’s the biggest motherfucking prick as he continues staring up at me with a smarmy grin on his face like he’s the master of the fucking universe. All-fucking-knowing and all-fucking-powerful even though he needs me to cover his back.
Cunt.
Frustration swells in my throat, making my body tense in a way that even the cat jumps ship.
“She’s the only fucking thing…the only one left that’s hasn’t been fucked up by this shit. The only one that hasn’t actually been hurt, and she’s fucking staying that way.”
“You honestly believe that? That she hasn’t been hurt by any of this?” Christopher looks around us with a deep sigh before he stands and goes to the coffee machine. “You honestly believe that?”
I know where this is going, and still, I hang around for him to continue.
“You’ve fucked Georgie up, Freddie,” he tells me with a disgusted twist to his lips as he makes himself an espresso.
“Her name is Geor—”
“You don’t get to comment on her name,” Christopher snaps, and it takes him a moment to gather himself before he continues. “You don’t get to dictate how anyone says George’s name. Not anymore. Not after you hurt her.”
Slamming my hand down on the marble worktop to stop myself from doing more damage, I spit, “The fuck I don’t!”
“The fuck you do,” he counters with a snicker, swilling the short coffee around the small cup.
“Her name is Georgina. Call her by her name.”
“Why do you care about her name so much when you treat her like she means nothing?”
“Fuck you,” I hiss, my hand batting my empty glass in his direction.
With a wide step to the side, he watches the tumbler smash on the floor where he was standing with a satisfying screech of skittering glass. It’s silent for a beat. Silent enough that my thoughts are roaring in my head. Every good reason I gave myself to stay away from Georgina, to push her away…gone.
There’s nothing except this overwhelming need to fucking have her. To touch and feel and taste. This crushing need to have her with me all the time. And it doesn’t matter that these walls are home because since she’s been gone, they’ve felt like anything but.
“You’re not going to be able to protect Georgina from everything. Trust me, Fred, it’s impossible. But at least if she’s with you, you can try, and that is the one regret you don’t want. You don’t want that on your conscience.”
He throws back the shot of caffeine before rinsing out the cup and leaving it in the sink like it’ll find the dishwasher on its own. When he’s done, he leaves me with nothing but my jumbled thoughts. I try to shut them up so I can follow him and go back to what we need to be doing to ensure we find an end to this endless war. However, the only thing I can do is pull my phone from my pocket and go back to staring at the empty rooms of her house, wishing that I could simply watch her from afar.
She’d be safe this way, wouldn’t she? Isn’t she?
I can watch over her and make sure that nothing touches her. Including me. But even as I think it, my hand squeezes tighter around my phone as I exit the app. It’s pointless staring at her walls, waiting for her to walk the halls so I catch glimpses and shadows. Yet, I can’t help it. Every cell of my anatomy is desperate to be closer to her. My heart physically aches to be near hers like she’s its only reason for beating. Its only reason for keeping me alive. Or maybe, she is the reason I’m on this earth. She’s the reason I exist.
I’m about to join Christopher and Leo in the lounge when my phone starts pinging non-stop on the counter.
I don’t care whether Casper and I are on good terms or not. He calls, especially when he’s brooding, I’m going to answer.
“Yeah?”
