Inspire

by Cora Carmack

  “Sorry about Bridget. She can be kind of a bitch.”

  I frown. Why hang out with her then? Why say something like that about your friend?

  “She can be really cool. I swear. But there's history there between her and Wilder.”

  I flinch, blindsided. I hadn't even considered the idea that she might be his ex. I don't know why. But the thought that he brought me here with her, that they're still friends, is enough to make my stomach churn with nausea.

  “It's over between them. They were shit together, and Wilder ended it a while ago. You've got nothing to worry about there.”

  Then why am I worrying?

  “How long is a while ago?”

  He shrugs. “Eight, nine months. Something like that.”

  Shit. I was hoping more for something in the years range. I take a deep breath, knowing it's not fair to expect him not to have exes. I sure as hell have a lot more than he does. But I never see mine again. She's his friend.

  “Damn,” Rook says. “I shouldn't have said anything. I know fuck all about relationships, but this is a new low, screwing up other people's. Listen, don't be mad at him.”

  “I'm not mad.”

  I'm terrified. I can't lose him. I just can't. We've only known each other a month, and have been seeing each other officially for a little over a week, but he's already imprinted on my heart. No, deeper than that. He's wrapped up in my essence, my soul. I thought it was the same for him. I need it to be the same for him.

  “You're sure? I feel like this is usually the part where girls go storming off or start yelling.”

  “I'm not going to yell. Or storm off.”

  I might walk away though. Just to get out of the crowd of people and catch my breath.

  “He's serious about you. Really fucking serious. Please don't let my shitty mouth ruin that. I just didn't want her talking shit, trying to poison things between you. He doesn't want her, and she's just got to get over her obsession.”

  The word rings darkly between us. Obsession. I think of Van. Of all the guys I've ever left behind that kept showing up, kept trying to win me back until finally I had to change my number or move or get a new life completely. I know a thing or two about obsession.

  I also know that if things don't turn out how I want them to, I could end up doing that same thing to Wilder. I think of that ribbon of energy that had unfurled while he kissed me earlier, and I do a mental evaluation of my levels.

  A three.

  I started the night at a zero, and already I'm at a three.

  “I need to run to the bathroom. Do you know where it is?”

  “I don't think you want to go to the bathroom here.”

  “I just need a second away from the noise and all the people. Please, tell me where it is.”

  “You said you weren't going to storm off.”

  “I'm not. Please. Rook, you don't know me. But trust me when I tell you that I just need a break. Please.”

  He points behind me. “It's downstairs. Take a right as soon as you hit the first floor, behind the kiddie rides.”

  “Thank you.”

  I fight my way through the bodies, hyper aware every time someone's skin comes into contact with mine. It would be easy, just to let a tiny sliver of energy go with each of those touches. I could get back to zero quickly.

  No. I can't do that. Can’t.

  I suck in a lungful of air as soon as I'm on the stairs. I take them fast, eager to have a moment just to shut down and process. Downstairs, there's a photo of a bearded lady hanging outside the women's restroom, and it swings a little as I push my way inside. There's a girl washing her hands at the sink, but other than that, the place appears to be empty. I push my way into a stall, lock the door, and then lean back against it, glad for the barrier between me and the rest of the world.

  So he's friends with his ex. Can I really complain about that with all the peculiarities on my side of the relationship? I'll have to spend time with Jack. And Mick. And probably other guys. Besides … I know what we have is something extraordinary. Not just because of the way he makes me feel, but because of the fate thread I feel between us. I don't know if that means we're meant to be. If we're soul mates. But I know it means we're connected in a way that no one and nothing else can compete with. There are enough obstacles to our relationship without me allowing jealousy and fear to create more.

  Already feeling better, I take a calming breath and concentrate on settling the energy inside me. My own anxiety antagonized it, and it's dangerous for me to let that kind of restlessness take over. I close my eyes, focus on breathing, and let everything else slip away but my body and the power. When it's settled, I'm relieved to feel that my levels are not quite as high as I'd thought out on the dance floor. Still above a zero for sure, but more like a two than a three. Much more manageable.

  Ready to return to Wilder and the others, I push open the bathroom stall only to come to a halt when I see Bridget leaning against the bathroom sink. My steps falter, and my eyebrows raise. “Hi.”

  “Sorry if I came off rude out there.”

  Hesitantly, I take a step forward. Part of me just wants to bolt, but I decide to play it cool and wash my hands instead.

  “Don't worry about it.”

  “It's just that Wilder means a lot to me. To all of us. And he's going through a rough time right now—”

  “I know.”

  Her nostrils flare, and she stands up straight from where she's been leaning on the sink.

  “He told you.”

  I nod. She's silent as I finish rinsing the soap off my hands, and when I reach for a paper towel. I can feel the tension rolling off her beside me, but she remains quiet. I'm not about to stick around until she decides what she wants to say, so I move toward the door.

  “Hang on.” She reaches out as I pass, lightly touching my elbow. But when we make contact, she gasps, and her fingers latch on like a vice around my arm. The energy I'd just cooled flairs to life, licking like flames at the inside of my lungs. Her body is shaking next to mine, and when I look up, her eyes have frosted over, pupils and irises covered by an icy white.

  “Long have you kept your secrets, moúsa.”

  My body jerks to attention at the name. The Greek term for muse. I yank my arm, trying to free it from her grasp, but her hold is like stone. “Through centuries,” she continues, “all your secrets and shame. The shroud of loneliness will be doffed. A reunion calls.”

  An oracle. Wilder's friend and ex-girlfriend is a godsdamned oracle.

  “To be made whole, all must first be lost. Daughter of Zeus. Queen of the grove song. Oh, clearest voice among the crowd. You will lose him to your secrets. Daughter of Zeus, maiden muse, bringer of madness. Erebus waits for your move. First shall meet last on death's breath.”

  I yank again, and this time I manage to break her hold. We both gasp at the loss of contact, and I don't wait to watch her eyes clear and for the human half of Bridget to take hold. Oracles don't typically remember their visions and prophecies. She probably doesn't even know what she is. In fact, this could easily be her first episode. Coming into contact with me, someone with so much deity blood, could have called forth the dormant part of her nature.

  I spin, storming for the door, and throw it open. Wilder is rushing toward me as I step out, and her words prick at my soul when I see him.

  You will lose him to your secrets.

  Chapter Twenty

  Wilder

  “I'm sorry what?”

  I stand against the busy bar, waiting for the drinks I just ordered, talking with Lennox while she attempts to flag down a bartender of her own.

  “I said I'm glad I called Jack today. Your friends seem cool. I'm totally going to have to check out Rook's tattoos online.”

  “Yeah. He's crazy talented. I'm sorry. What does Jack have to do with it?”

  “I called him, and he was …” She trails off, and I catch the way her eyes widen just slightly. “Never mind. Don't listen to
me. I did some pre-gaming before we came, so I'm already a little loopy.”

  “Was Jack the one who told you we were going out tonight?”

  She hedges, turning to call out for the bartender again rather than answer me.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” If Jack knew our plans, that means Kalli talked to him. I don’t like the guy, but I’m not about to tell Kalli who she can and can’t be friends with. I do wonder when she talked to him, though. She’s been busy working through the holidays. I’m about to dig for a little more information from Lennox, when Owen appears.

  “Problem,” he mutters next to me.

  I sigh. Generally, when Owen is coming to me with a problem, Rook has stuck his foot in somewhere it doesn't belong. I love the dude, but I swear to God I spent more time putting out his fires than actually making music when the band was still going strong. Inevitably, he was pissing off some bar manager or taking the wrong girl home or talking shit to the worst possible person.

  “What did Rook do?”

  “Nothing much. He danced with your girl.”

  I frown. He's my best friend, but he also spends eighty percent of his life thinking with his dick, and I swear to God if he came on to Kalli, I won't be responsible for what I do to him.

  “Then she went to the bathroom. Couple minutes passed, and I noticed Bridge was nowhere to be seen. Thought maybe she was on the dance floor, but I can't find her. Thought you might want to know.”

  Shit. Surely she wouldn't say something to Kalli. I expected her to pout and be a bit cold, but we're still friends goddamn it. She wouldn't sabotage my relationship just because ours didn't work out. I catch Owen's worried expression, and I know we're both doubting just what our friend would and wouldn't do right now.

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah,” Owen replies.

  “Bathroom, you said?”

  He nods. “That's what she told Rook anyway. Maybe she just wanted to get away from his hairy mug though. Could have been an excuse.”

  I hand him a couple of bills and say, “Can you pay for the drinks I have coming? I'll be back.”

  “Sure thing.”

  I slip through the openings between people crowding the bar, trying to get a drink, and when I hit the stairs, I jog down. I head back to the half-hidden hallway that I know leads to the bathroom, and I'm a few steps away from the door when it flies open, and Kalli comes rushing out.

  Her hair is a bit wild, and her pupils are dilated. Sweat dots her forehead, and when our gazes clash she slams to a halt. An expression passes across her face, fear I think, and when I reach out to touch her, she flinches away before I make contact.

  “Kalliope,” I say. I don't know why I use her full name. It just comes out, but her expression closes off and her jaw clenches.

  “Don't call me that.”

  “I'm sorry. Kalli, I'm sorry.” I take a step forward, reaching out a hand, but I don't make contact. Not yet. I don't know if I can handle seeing her flinch back from me again. “What's wrong?”

  The bathroom door swings open again, and Bridget is framed in the opening.

  “Goddamn it, Bridge. What did you say to her?”

  Her brows furrow, and she looks between us in confusion. “I didn't say anything.”

  “We were supposed to be friends first. I've been patient with your bullshit because we've known each other a long time, but this is too much.”

  “Hey Asshat, I don't know what you're talking about—”

  I bite back the slew of curse words I want to fling at her, and fist my hands in my hair to try to cool down. Then Kalli ducks under my arm and steps between us.

  “Wilder, relax. She didn't say anything.”

  Kalli rests a hand on my chest lightly, but she winces when she does it, and when I try to move closer, that hand becomes more of a barrier than a comfort. “Kalli, what the hell is going on? What's wrong?”

  She snatches her hand back, and moves to put more space between us. “Nothing is wrong. I just got a little overwhelmed and needed a break.”

  She flew out of that bathroom like she was being chased.

  Or like she was getting ready to run.

  I look over at Bridget. “You weren't rude?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh, please Wild. Maybe I'm a little bit bitchy, but I wasn't mean to your precious girlfriend.”

  She steps forward and lets the heavy bathroom door swing shut with a thud. Then she maneuvers around us and leaves without making eye contact with either of us again. I return my focus to Kalli. She's leaning into the wall a few feet away, and her shoulders are rising and falling slowly with her deep, slow inhales.

  “You didn't look like you'd just been taking a breather when you came out of that bathroom. You looked terrified. Tell me what happened.”

  She smiles, but it's weak. “Nothing. I swear. I just don't do well in crowds like this.”

  I frown, remembering the last time I'd seen her downtown. She'd been stumbling out of a club probably as busy as this one. And she'd been pale and panicked.

  Damn.

  “Why didn't you tell me? I never would have brought you here if I'd known that.”

  I move toward her, but she dodges my touch at the last moment.

  “I'm sorry. Just give me a moment, please. Let me calm down for a second, and then … then I'll be fine.”

  I frown, grinding my teeth together.

  “Was there anyone else in the bathroom besides you two?”

  She shakes her head.

  I don't touch her again, but I push open the door and gesture for her to come inside. When she does, I close the door and lock it. Then I wet a paper towel in the sink and hand it to her. I pace a few feet away and try not to brood too much as I watch her dab at her face with the towel. I have a thousand questions I want to ask, but I stay silent while she breathes and breathes and breathes for so long that I find myself doing it with her. The doorknob shakes, and someone bangs hard on the outside.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  After a moment, she nods. I unlock the door, and the two girls waiting outside narrow their eyes when they see me. I hold open the door for Kalli and apologize. “Sorry. My girlfriend got sick.” I hesitate, but then place a hand at her lower back, relieved when she doesn’t flinch.

  “Let’s leave. I’ll text the guys and tell them we had to go.”

  She grips my arm over my jacket. “No, don’t. I don’t want to ruin our plans.”

  I cup her face in my hands and pull her as close as I dare. “The only thing that could ruin this night is seeing you uncomfortable or unhappy. We’re leaving.”

  After a moment, she nods. I wrap an arm around her and pull her close to my side, and this time she reciprocates the gesture. Both her arms go around my middle, and she squeezes so tight that it’s almost hard for the two of us to walk. It becomes especially difficult as we try to make our way through the crowd to the exit, but neither of us make any move to let go of the other. We wait it out until there’s an opening or people move out of our way.

  It’s cold out, so we walk quickly through the busy streets until we get to our parking garage and can escape into my SUV. I turn the ignition on, and power up the heater as fast as I can. It has heated seats, so I flip those on also. I stop then to retrieve my phone and send a quick text to Rook explaining.

  In return I get:

  I’m sorry, man. I wasn’t thinking.

  Shit. What did that mean?

  Rather than hound him for the answer, I face Kalli. I swear, all I want to do is pull her over the center console into my lap, and hold her tight until my heart stops beating so hard.

  “Can you explain to me what happened back there?”

  She keeps her gaze trained on her folded hands in her lap and shakes her head.

  “You’re sure Bridget didn’t say something to you? What about Rook?”

  She looks up, tilting her head sideways to peer at me. “Why didn’t you tell me she was your ex?”

  I sigh. So
someone did say something. Probably Rook.

  “I should have. I just … things have been going so well, and I didn’t want to screw that up.”

  Good job, Bell. You fucked yourself over with that one.

  I continue, “I swear there’s absolutely nothing there. It was when I first came back to town with all the stuff going on with my dad. We’d been friends for a while, and she was there when I needed someone. But we weren’t good together. Not at all. She knows we’re not together. She knows we’re not getting back together. But the four of us … we’ve been friends for a long time. I can’t just cut her out. Or ask Rook and Owen to cut her out. She’s their friend, too.”

  She nods, looking down again. And damn it, I can’t tell if she’s pissed or sad or if she cares at all.

  “Talk to me. Are you mad? I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.”

  “I’m not mad.”

  I slump back in my seat, only slightly relieved because there’s still something I can’t identify in her tone. Weariness, maybe? Is she just worn out from the crowd?

  “Tell me what else is going on in your head. You’re killing me.”

  Her eyes flash to mine then, a flare of something in those dark depths.

  She purses her lips like she might cry and shakes her head.

  “Everything is just so hard.”

  “What is?”

  I don't like how this moment feels so outside my control.

  “I don't want to lose you.”

  Screw being cautious. I reach over and unbuckle the seatbelt she'd already fastened, scoot back my own chair, and then pull her over into my lap. She gasps, wiggling in my arms.

  “Wilder!”

  I capture her face in my hands, and wait for her to still. “You're not losing me.”

  She releases a shaky breath and squeezes her eyes shut.

  “You can't promise that.”

  “Bullshit. I am promising that.”

  “Wilder, I—”

  I kiss her, unwilling to hear the words and doubts she has to offer. Her lips are taut and tense beneath mine, but when I graze my teeth over her bottom lip, she trembles in my arms, softening.