Rage and Ruin (The Harbinger 2)

Hearing my own words from him was jarring. What he was saying didn’t sound fair. He could do that to me, but I couldn’t give him the same? And there was more left. I was ready, even after all I’d just experienced. I knew there was more, and I wanted him to feel what I felt.

“Zayne,” I started, but he shifted onto his back. A moment passed, and then he rose from the bed. I sat up. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” He stepped away from the bed and then stopped. “Good night, Trinity.”

My mouth dropped open in confusion as he walked out of the bedroom. With the brief flash of light from the living room, he was gone, closing the door behind him, and I was left sitting there, wondering what in the world had just happened.

Had I done something wrong? I must have, considering he’d gone from full throttle to not just pumping the brakes, but getting out of the car and walking away. But I hadn’t done anything wrong.

I hadn’t even initiated this.

Pulling my legs from where they were tangled in the blanket, I scrambled off the bed. I started toward the door, realized I was shirtless and then went back to the nightstand and smacked around until I found the switch. Golden light flooded the bedroom. I found my top at the end of the bed, tugged it on and then hurried to the door and yanked it open. Zayne was standing at the island, downing a bottle of water like he’d been dying of thirst.

“What’s wrong?” I demanded.

Zayne glanced at me as he lowered the bottle. “You forgot your pants.”

“I almost forgot my shirt,” I replied. “That you took off me. What just happened in there? Everything was fine. Great, actually. Perfect, and then you just walked out—”

“Figured that’s what you’d prefer.”

“What?” I stared at him. “Why would you think that? Makes no sense.”

“Makes no sense?” Zayne laughed, but it sounded wrong. He took another drink. “You got what you needed, right? I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

Now my jaw was on the floor. “Excuse me?”

“You’re right. It was great and perfect. Then it wasn’t.” He started toward the couch. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep.”

“Oh, Hell no. I don’t even know why you’d say something like that. Got what I needed? Buddy, I’m not the one who started this. That was you.” My heart thumped heavily as something dark and oily seeped through my chest. “I don’t understand. You’re the one who wanted to get me out of your system!”

Zayne huffed, shaking his head. “I didn’t say that.”

“And I didn’t say—”

Peanut appeared suddenly, drifting out of the interior wall. He took one look at me, standing there in my tank and undies, and then at Zayne glowering.

“Nope.” The ghost wheeled right around and disappeared back into the wall.

Zayne followed my gaze to the wall. “Is that ghost here?”

“That ghost has a name,” I snapped. “And no. Not anymore.” Crossing my arms, I met his stare and tried to rein back my anger. “This sounds like a terrible miscommunication of sorts. I don’t know why you’d get the impression that—”

“That this means more to me than just getting off?” He jumped in, and my eyes widened. “Yeah, I’m seeing that hasn’t crossed your mind.”

“I have no idea where this is coming from!” I shouted and winced, hoping his neighbors couldn’t hear me. I forced my voice lower. “I told you I wanted you. I showed you and—”

“And there was a miscommunication.” He swung toward me, pale eyes flashing. “When you said no kissing, I wasn’t picking up on what you meant by more. If I had known, none of that would’ve happened.”

I tipped forward, the oily feeling spreading. “All of this because I wouldn’t let you kiss me? Are you kidding me?”

His head cocked to the side, brows raised. “Wow, Trinity. Your selective memory is not one of your endearing traits.”

“Selective memory? I told you no kissing because—”

“It would make it mean more than what it does. Your words. Not mine.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Oh my God, I had said that. I unfurled my arms, heart now thundering. “I didn’t mean—”

“Look, I’ve already been someone’s pastime when they were bored or wanted attention. Been there, done that, and should have had the damn common sense not to go there again.”

My entire body jerked. Not just because of his words—I realized the thick gunk slithering through my veins was coming from him. Anger. Disappointment. Worse of all, shame. I felt his shame as he took another step toward me.

“Maybe what we were doing in there doesn’t mean anything to most people, but it does to me. It means a whole Hell of a lot to me, so I’m not going down that road again,” he said, his gaze sweeping over me. “No matter how tempting that road is.”

Blinking back sudden wetness, I lifted my hands as horror tore through me. God, no wonder he was feeling the way he was. He’d opened up to me, speaking honestly and telling me that I got under his skin and in his blood, and I... I hadn’t told him why I’d said no kissing. I hadn’t told him my fears about the Alphas and what they’d do. I hadn’t told him...

I hadn’t told him the truth. That even though I knew I shouldn’t and was doing everything in my power not to allow it, I was falling in love with him. That I might even already be there. I didn’t say anything other than that I wanted him. I’d even told myself that, if we kept it purely physical, it would be okay, but I had to draw those lines. I just hadn’t told him why.

I took a shaky breath, needing to explain even if it couldn’t fix this. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I wasn’t thinking about you—”

“Of course you weren’t.” He looked away as the water bottle crinkled under his grip. “That’s your thing, right? Always thinking about yourself.”

Ice drenched my skin. I’d said that to him by the tree house, after everything had gone down with Misha. I’d told him I was selfish, and Misha had been right. Zayne had told me that wasn’t true.

Taking a step back, I tried to breathe through what poured out of me, but it was deep-rooted and it overwhelmed what I felt from him.

“Dammit,” he growled, tossing the water bottle onto the couch. It bounced off the cushion and thumped onto the floor. He thrust a hand through his hair, dragging it back from his face. “We need to end this conversation.”

I stood there, arms at my sides.

“I don’t know what I was thinking tonight. Why I said any of those things to you,” he said, sounding very weary. “Tonight was a mistake, and we need to forget all of this.”

“Yeah,” I heard myself whisper.

His gaze shot to mine, and his jaw hardened. He smiled, but it was nothing like the smiles I knew. “Good news is, I don’t think we have to be worried about being distracted any longer, because this...this isn’t going to happen again.”

24

The next couple of days sucked for a multitude of reasons.

Obviously the whole museum-tour thing had been nixed, not just because of what had happened between Zayne and I, but because it hadn’t felt right after the last Warden death. Still, that didn’t stop the rush of disappointment whenever I thought about those plans.

Hunting for the Harbinger each night had been a snoozefest—an awkward, strained snoozefest. We found nothing each night, not even a Raver. I guessed that wasn’t exactly bad news, since no Warden had been killed, but it meant we were no closer to finding the Harbinger.

It also meant there was a lot of downtime with no teasing between Zayne and I, no playful bickering or long talks about his clan or if I missed the Community. Zayne wasn’t rude toward me; he was remote and utterly unreachable while we trained and looked for the Harbinger. Everything was just...professional between us, and while that helped during training with the blindfold, it made me so, so sad. Heartsick, really.

I picked up nothing from him through the bond. And there was a tiny, selfish part of me that was grateful, because I wanted to forget that slimy feeling of shame that was the result of my own actions, intentionally or not.

Zayne was there every day, but he wasn’t and I wondered if this was how it was going to be from now on. We were bonded till death, which, hopefully, was a long time off.

That was also a long time to miss the easiness between us, the camaraderie and the fun we’d had just being in each other’s company. It was a long time to mourn the loss of everything that had made Zayne become what he meant to me, which was more than my Protector, more than just my friend.

It seemed a little too late to realize that pretending hadn’t stopped my feelings for him from growing. Neither had my stupid, faulty mental file cabinet. All I’d managed to do was camouflage my emotions. That drawer named ZAYNE had been ripped open and everything I’d felt for him dumped out, scattered all over me. It was a mess I sifted through each night after returning to the apartment.

I never explained to Zayne what I’d meant about the whole no-kissing rule and why I’d sought to establish it. I never told him that he was the furthest thing from a pastime. That he and I weren’t him and Layla. That what I felt for him had nothing to do with boredom or seeking a physical release and had everything to do with wanting too much of what we could not have.

Zayne didn’t bring it up. It became something we didn’t acknowledge but that remained a wall erected between us. By the next week after what I was now referring to as Trin Is an Idiot night—TIAI for short—I woke still aching but resigned. Maybe this was for the best. We couldn’t be together.

And we wouldn’t be.

I twisted my damp hair up and shoved a clip into the mass, grabbed my phone and then slipped on my glasses. When I padded barefoot into the living room, Zayne was on the couch. He didn’t look up as I made my way to the kitchen.