live with.”
“Your revenge. You think getting it will make it hurt even less?” he asks.
“It might not make it hurt less, but I think it will make living with it more bearable. In the end, it’s not about my pain, but making them suffer for what they’ve done. Making them feel what they felt, what I feel.”
Pike is quiet as I pet his head. “You know I can’t stay,” I say with a sigh. Tears form in my eyes. “Not because I don’t want to, but because I have to go. I have to finish what I started.”
He doesn’t reply.
I look down to find his eyes closed.
For the moment, sleep makes him look peaceful. That is, until his hands twitch. Even in his sleep, Pike’s hands are balled up into fists, his knuckles white and ready for a fight.
But this fight is mine. They started it. I’ll be the one to end it.
And if everything goes the way it should, Pike won’t be caught in the crossfire.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Pike
I wake to what sounds like a thousand cats pattering across the roof. The room smells like fresh earth. It’s raining, I realize as I blink off the blur of sleep.
Gutter is dead, and there’s a piece of me missing. Not just in my heart, but in my bed. It’s empty and cold.
I turn my head and find that Mickey is no longer asleep next to me. A quick scan of the room, and I find her standing at the window. She’s bare-legged, wearing a large white sweater that hangs off one shoulder and is just long enough to cover her ass, revealing the smooth slope of her lean athletic thighs. The long sleeves cover her hands, the excess material gathered in her palms like makeshift gloves.
She’s beautiful in a way that makes me realize I’ve never understood beauty before. My gut twists with the same need I felt last night as I watched her sleep. The need to keep her safe, to keep her happy.
To keep her.
It’s stronger than any other compulsion I ever felt before, and it’s because it’s not a compulsion at all. It’s just her.
For a moment, I watch her silently as she leans one shoulder against the window pane. Her eyes are focused upward on the sky, watching the storm as it passes. She raises her hand and pushes her sleeve to her wrist, pressing her fingertips to the glass as if she’s trying to close the distance between her and the rain.
I realize she’s aware that I’m awake when she speaks although she keeps her eyes focused out the window. “I once asked my father if he could see what I saw in the raindrops. The way the light shines differently off each one. The varying shapes, the different colors they reflect.” Her voice is eerily calm and soft. “He told me no. He said that it takes a special gift like mine to be able to find something unique about each drop where most people just see water falling from the sky.”
Sliding my feet off the side of the bed, I push to my feet and pad over to Mickey, leaning against the wall next to the window so I can face her, glancing momentarily at the rain that has her so fixated.
She flattens her palm to the glass. “It’s…I think it’s a shame that people can’t see what I see, yet sometimes, I wish I could see it as they do.”
I’m taken aback by the thought that she wants to be like everyone else because Mickey isn’t like anyone else. Not even close. She’s a different species of human, one I hate to admit, that I actually like, respect even. “It’s a gift. It’s your gift. Don’t wish it away. It’s what makes you…” I wave my hand at her, wishing I was as good with words as she is. “You.”
She leans the side of her head against the window, shifting to face me. I’m met with bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks. Mickey’s been crying. Noticing where my attention is focused, she wipes her cheek with the sleeve of her sweater.
“It’s a curse in the same way that it’s also a gift.” Her eyes glass over as they fill with tears. Her calm voice grows shaky, catching in her throat. “There are billions of people on the earth, but none of them are like you, Pike. You’re not just water falling from the sky. You’re so unique and so special, and no one will