Page 66 of The Triangle

“Please, don’t.” The pleading in her voice takes me by surprise. “Please?” she says again.

There’s a neediness in the asking that undoes me a tiny bit. It’s so sincere. So fragile. Sincerity and fragility are not qualities that I’m particularly accustomed to. And hearing them come out of the mouth of the person I’ve known the longest in my life is an unexpected jolt.

My fist loosens, and I let my grip uncurl. I turn my hand over, open up my palm, and allow her hand to cup into mine, our fingers intertwining.

She does the same with Alec, and then she lifts both of our hands to her mouth, pressing our coupled fists together and kissing our knuckles simultaneously.

Then she draws them to her chest and holds us there. Next to her heart.

She looks at Alec, who smiles at her. She looks at me. I’m not sure what expression I should offer in return. So I just stare at her.

Then she leans in, and she kisses me on the mouth.

I don’t return the kiss. Not right away. I just let the feel of her lips on mine linger there for a moment. I can’t help noticing that she’s still holding both of our hands together, and the fact that my fingers are somewhat tangled with both hers and Alec’s is distracting me.

But then, after a beat, I kiss her back. I lift my other hand and place it around her throat, holding her here. Or maybe I’m holding myself here. I’m not really sure.

And now, she’s let go of Alec’s hand and is using her newly freed-up fingers to pull my jacket off my shoulder. She forces it down and I let go of her neck, sliding the leather free from my other arm as well. My eyes are still closed. I don’t want to know where Alec is.

But that ‘please,’ the way she said it… It has me willing myself to stay here and give her what she’s asking for even though there’s an unknown number of competing emotions urging me to walk out.

It’s just that all the voices in my head telling me to move away from here are speaking out for the preservation of me. The lone voice encouraging me to stay is entirely about her.

She’s not a child anymore. That girl is gone and this woman took her place.

And it makes me sad.

Because I missed it.

And I don’t just mean these last few years. I mean even when we were all together too.

I had some version of her child-self trapped in the amber in my brain and didn’t notice she’d become a new person.

Still the same Christine, but a renewed version.

And so, when I hear that word, ‘please,’ I don’t just hear it being asked now. Being asked so that Alec and I will stop fighting. Being asked so that I will put my lips on hers, my body against hers. Being asked so that I’ll move out of my head and into her heart.

I hear it being asked from a place of ancient desire. From a lifetime of want.

Whatever this danger is that’s happening to us now isn’t about now. It’s about before. It’s about everything that’s led to today. It’s about karma. It’s about a couple thousand yesterdays of someone else’s anger and retribution stockpiling in wait for us to all become unaware, unprepared, and weak.

I don’t know if we’re going to survive. At least not all of us. I had that feeling back at Brasil’s when I decided that I would hand him Alec. I can’t prove that Alec is definitely the source of our fresh danger, but even if he isn’t, it’s time that Christine had a chance at living a normal life. She’s twenty-four. In some other life she’d just be getting out of grad school or something. Just beginning her life of climbing the corporate ladder or whatever the fuck people do.

Giving Alec up to Brasil wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen, no matter what. And if Alec is somehow directly involved in the trafficking of human lives now, instead of just the passive way that he’s previously been responsible—hell, the way we all have—then it’ll be deserved justice. Which is a pretty fucking ironic thing for me to be doling out. Justice. But somebody has to, and I’m just about the only one who can.

But that’s all bullshit. Because it’s not about Alec. Or justice. Or even saving innocent lives. Because no one is innocent. But Christine was. Once. And because of me, she lost it far too soon. So it’s about her. It’s about saving her life. And if Alec has to die for that to happen, so be it.

Shit, if I have to… Same thing.

She’s on top of me now. Straddling me as I lie back on the bed. I open my eyes and glance left and right to see that Alec seems to be gone. Did he excuse himself out of courtesy so that he wouldn’t interrupt this private moment?

Fuckin’ right.

I lean up to look for him, though. I let my eyes settle on Christine. Her bathrobe is barely held closed by the belt wrapped around her middle. But it’s starting to come loose. My eyes track to the edges of her breasts. Bare skin. So soft I want to reach up and touch her.

I don’t do that. I avert my eyes and, good fucking God, there’s a tantalizing shadow between her legs that makes me want to rip the goddamned bathrobe off completely.

I don’t do that either.