Day three, third crying jag I grabbed Colt by the lapels of his jacket and got up on my toes, feeling the tears dropping from my eyes, instant rivers of salt. So much water, I had my eyes open but I couldn’t make him out, he was a total blur. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry he hurt Puck. I’m so fucking –” Colt’s hand wrapped around the back of my neck, its steadiness and warmth coming as so much of a shock, I stopped speaking. “February, it’s okay,” Colt’s voice was quiet, just for me, only for me. I shook my head, the movement unnatural and wrong, me alive and moving while all things around me were getting butchered. The tears still uncontrolled, my hands twisted in his jacket and I shook it. “It isn’t.” And it wasn’t. None of it was. “Feb –” he began but I lost it. I lost it because it finally sunk in deep what my sick admirer considered his end game. And the thought was intolerable. Yanking Colt’s jacket with a vicious pull, I slammed my fists back into his chest and screeched, “He means to harm you!”
What do You think about For You (The 'Burg Series)?
