Page 175 of Echoes of the Banshee

“How the hell did she hide a fucking broken arm from you?” I whisper-yell, and he leans in so Thea won’t hear.

“One of the goblins said she didn’t even react. No matter how many times he hit her, she kept getting up and smiling at him.” I don’t know if it’s better or worse that she didn’t show pain.

I think back to her first day in combat; she did the same thing. Fuck.

“Did the cuffs affect her?” I ask, trying to make some sense of everything.

“Yes, but…” he trails off when she passes close. “She said she’d worn them before, and you eventually get used to the pain.”

I turn to watch her; I know I don’t know everything, but I thought we were close enough for her to open up about some of this. Then again, I’ve kept a lot of secrets too. Maybe I have to start opening up, to show her I trust her.

“How long do you think it’ll take before she notices?”

I look at him, confused.

“Notices what?”

He smiles playfully.

“Notices you’re in love with her.”

I blink, caught off guard, before I scoff, my cheeks burning. “Shut up.”

“Hey, I’m just saying.” Benson grins wider. “You’re not exactly being subtle.”

I narrow my eyes at him, but before I can reply, the sound of the door opening catches my attention. Dylan walks in, the bag of clothes rustling in his hand.

“I grabbed you some clothes,” he announces. Thea hurries over and grabs the bag.

“Thanks, Dylan.” She heads to the bathroom without further comment, the bag held tightly in her hands.

Benson leans toward me as soon as she disappears behind the door, his voice low.

“Bet you five bucks she comes out looking like a feed sack.”

“You’re awful.” I shake my head.

“What can I say? I’ve got a gift. So charming, I’m worth kidnapping over it.”

I snort, rolling my eyes as Dylan settles into the chair opposite me.

“I think that there’s a lot wrong in that family,” I tell them. They both nod their heads in agreement. Benson seems to be debating something before he finally speaks.

“Zair, I don’t know if she’s the right girl for you. Are you sure about her?”

“Yes.” I bristle at the implication.

“What if she’s already attached to someone else?” I feel the heat rise in my chest.

“I’m giving her space, but I’ll wait. This isn’t temporary,” I say firmly.

Benson seems like he wants to argue more, but before he can, the bathroom door creaks open. Thea steps out, wearing my soccer jersey. The fabric hangs loosely on her, the number three emblazoned on her chest. It’s too big for her, the hem brushing her thighs. She isn’t wearing any pants.

For fuck’s sake.

“Guess I owe you five bucks,” Benson tells me. I can’t look away.

“You look way sexier in that than Zair ever has,” Dylan chimes in.