Page 86 of Sergei

If you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask.

Skid:

What exactly are we talking about here?

Cold, hard cash? Cars? Or just a favor?

Me:

Whatever you want it to mean.

Skid:

Appreciate it, brother, but I’m good.

Just did what needed to be done.

Me:

Appreciate it all the same.

Skid:

Glad to help.

I thought reachingout to him would help clear my head. It didn’t. If anything, It made me feel worse. I almost lost her.

She almost died, and it was because of me.

Not because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Not because of some random act of violence. They came for her as a way to get to me. It was my past, my legacy, they were after. I should’ve been relieved that she was here and that I got to her before Zadora had his way with her.

Lina was doing her best to put on a brave front and push through like nothing had happened, but I saw the way her eyes would go distant. I’d heard the little whimpers when she had a nightmare, and underneath it all, there was a truth I couldn’t shake.

And that had me pulling back.

It wasn’t planned.

I didn’t wake up one morning and decide to create distance between us. It just happened, one inch at a time. An unexpected hesitation. A silence that felt unshakable. A touch that wasn’t returned. She’d ask if everything was okay, and I’d always come back with an excuse.

But those excuses were running thin.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew something was up, so I wasn’t surprised when she walked into my office and announced, “We need to talk.”

“About?”

“Us.” She motioned her hand between us. “This. I don’t know what, but something’s clearly wrong.”

I didn’t look up. I didn’t trust my face to give me away when I said, “Everything’s fine.”

“No. It’s not,” she argued. “You’re pulling away from me.”

There was no tremble in her voice. She said it matter-of-factly, and there was no anger. That made it worse. If she’d yelled, I could’ve yelled back. If she’d cried, I could’ve told myself she was overreacting.

But her voice was steady and calm as she said, “I thought we were past this. I thought you had let me in, but you put your walls back up.”

I lifted my head then and met her eyes. And for a second, I almost lied to her. I almost told her she was just imagining things, and I was just tired. But there was no denying it.

I’d spent years building a tower of walls around me, guarding myself from any and all feelings, but over the past couple of months, the foundation had started to crumble. No matter how hard I tried to fight it, I couldn’t stop it. And now, there was nothing left. Just me.