Broken Compass

I know. I do know it. It’s what’s keeping me from screaming with rage and sorrow. I let him haul me gently to the sofa and I curl there beside him, my head on his shoulder, his arms surrounding me.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he tells me, and I think of his horrible family and love him even more for offering me comfort.

“Thank you.” I kiss his stubbled cheek. “I’ll be fine. She just… came out of the blue, you know? And went back to it without regrets.”

“She regrets it.” West comes with the hot chocolate, places it on the low table and sits down beside me, taking my hand. “She regrets it already, but she dug a hole for herself and can’t get out of it. Probably can’t even remember how.”

Pain stabs through me. Tears gather in my eyes. I don’t want her to suffer. I just want her to love me. Is that too much to ask?

“Dude…” Nate glares at him. “Not helpful.”

“What I meant…” West gives me a sheepish smile and lifts my hand to his lips. “Is that she loves you. And we do, too.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nate growls. “Say, I love you, Sydney.”

We both turn to stare at him.

“Syd, I love you,” West says quietly and kisses my hand, making me shiver.

“Good.” Nate trails his mouth over my cheek. “Syd, I love you, too.”

A strangled laugh escapes me. “You’re crazy,” I tell him, pissed because he scared me there for a second. I thought… I thought he’d say he doesn’t care for me. “Nuts.”

It’s proof of how shaken I am tonight that I’d ever doubt him.

“Fifty percent nuts,” he says solemnly, “fifty percent dick. You get the whole package.”

I snicker. Something relaxes in my chest, and I can breathe again. “I love you, too, guys, so much. West, Nate.” I frown. “And Kash. I saw him.”

“Syd…” There’s a warning tone to Nate’s voice. I guess now he thinks I am nuts.

“Tell us what you saw,” West rumbles.

“He was crouched at the entrance of a shop. That tobacco store behind the bus stop? And the other day I saw him there, too. It was practically the same place, only that time he was across the street.”

They exchange a look. “It’s impossible,” West whispers, blue eyes darkening. “I mean, what the fuck, right? We’ve looked everywhere for him, read his journal and imagined all sorts of scenarios, told the police that his uncle kidnapped him, and he’s here?”

“Yeah, no way.” Nate shakes his head, mouth downturned.

“But what if it’s true?” I whisper. “What if I did see him?”

“Why would he be here, a few streets down, and not come find us? This is fucked up.”

“What if he’s sick? What if he’s hurt? What if he is out there?” I chew on my lip, my mind made up. “I’m going to go look for him.”

“You wanna go out now, in the dark, to look for Kash. You probably saw someone who looked like him. You’re upset—”

“Don’t.” I push off the sofa, to my feet, and straighten my clothes, wipe at my tear-streaked face. “Don’t do that. I know I sound crazy. But I need to do something, or I’ll really lose my mind. Please…” I lick my lips, rub at my forehead and the headache blooming there. “Let’s just go for a walk. I need this.”

I’m shaking, and I’m making no sense, and I don’t even know what I want, except to get out of here. Escape. Not think.

Another of those silent exchange of looks takes place over my head, that unspoken communication of people who’ve known each other for long years, and they nod.

“Let’s go.”

The night is cold, and I wrap my jacket around me. The wind blows crisp and sharp, going through me, even with my two big guys

flanking me. The fresh air feels good on my face, on the dried tracks of tears on my cheeks. It clears my mind.