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I still haven’t decided if I’m going to just nope out of Puritan City or head to work. I’ll figure it out soon enough.
“It’s time for your come-to-Jesus moment,” she says, her voice serious. The usual background noise of her typing is conspicuously absent. “You need to face some hard truths, Aria.”
I pause on the sidewalk, feeling like I’m about to get scolded by a parent. “What?”
“You heard me,” she mutters, then she takes a deep breath. “Did you ever wonder why I sent you to Puritan City?”
Feeling unsteady, I walk the last few feet to the bus stop and plop down on the bench before I realize just how close I am to the hotel and the bus doesn’t come for another twenty minutes.
“Nope,” I answer immediately. “Honestly, I figured you wouldn’t send me somewhere without a backup of sorts. You often have plans inside plans inside plans.”
“Of course I do,” she says with the kind of confidence I hope to wield one day. “I knew Quinn was in the city, and despite my initial faux pas about his gender, I knew he was just as good of a hacker as me, and I damn well knew he worked for Puritan.”
“Mm-kay.” I slink behind a building, the cold brick against my back a stark contrast to the warmth of Quinn’s embrace just hours ago. The city feels both familiar and alien as I try to mentally map my escape route.
“Take a left.”
“Fuck, you are creepy.”
“I know,” she states. “Have you even tried to get to know them?”
“The guys?” I feel a wrinkle in my brows.
“Yes.”
“Well,” I drawl, “I know Quinn in the knotting sense.”
“You’re being facetious.”
“How dare you use that word on me,” I accuse her. “I’ve wanted to use that word in a sentence since the moment I learned of its existence.”
“My statement stands.”
“Fine,” I grumble and slide onto an iron chair resting beside an iron table in front of a bakery. I didn’t shower, a fact now hitting me with a dunce stick. Why am I so foolish sometimes? “We played twenty questions.”
“Surface level bullshit,” she scolds me. “Walk two blocks, take a right.”
“I didn’t shower,” I hiss into the phone.
“Sometimes, I wonder if you have any sense of self-preservation at all.” This time, I hear clacking. “One day, I’m not going to be around to save your ass.”
I pick at a thread on my pants. I smell like cum and amazing sex, and yet her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I know Cayenne is right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to hear. I’ve relied on her for so long, the thought of navigating this world without her guidance is terrifying.
Who else would tell me where to go in a city she’s never stepped foot into? Some days, I don’t think I deserve her friendship, and for a long time, I didn’t understand it. How could this incredible person just exist in my life with unconditional love?
Unconditional love. It’s wild, and the imposter syndrome that comes along with it is born of trauma and nightmares.
I don’t deserve her.
“I know,” I mumble, choking back a sob. “I’m trying, Cayenne. I swear I am. It’s just…every step forward feels like I’m walking through quicksand.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, I think she hung up on me, but then I hear her sigh.
“I know you are, Aria, but trying isn’t enough. You need to start doing.” Her voice is firm but not unkind. “These guys, they could be good for you if you let them in.”
Fuck. There it is.
I chew on my bottom lip, mulling over her words. The idea of opening up to anyone, let alone a group of strangers, is daunting, but deep down, I know she’s right—I can’t keep running forever.
