Strength (Mark of Nexus #1) (27 page)

I stopped between our beds and turned to face him. “You okay now?”

“Yeah.” He shook his head as he approached me. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Well, he backed you into a corner, and you didn’t have a chance to react before. You had a cluster, and we ended up here. It was just a delayed reaction.”

“I should’ve controlled myself,” he mumbled, shifting his weight. “I was just so…”

“Have you ever noticed how much I cuss when I’m upset?”

He looked tired and confused. “What?”

“When I’m upset,” I repeated. “I cuss. A lot.” How could I put this? “You know, sometimes we do things we’re not exactly proud of. We acknowledge those things. We ask for forgiveness. We make the extra effort not to do them again.” I tucked my hair behind my ears. “Then we move on. That’s how it works. So, stop torturing yourself.”

He stared at me for a long moment. “Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t thank me. My first thought was to say you’re only human, but you know…”

He laughed. “Yeah, that wouldn’t have been as effective.”

I took a deep breath and braced myself while the mood was still light. “Listen, Wallace…”

“What?”

“I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” I began, lowering my voice. “I know it’s hard for you.”

Dimples lined his grin as he tilted his head. “Well, if we’re being honest, I kind of gathered that after I felt your anger hit me like a brick in the face.”

Shit.
I’d forgotten he would pick up on that. “Yeah, well…”

“Actually,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “I might’ve exaggerated what I said, too.”

That caught my attention. “What?”

“I wasn’t…it wasn’t that I…” He looked up at the ceiling. “I wasn’t feeling particularly empathic at the moment, okay?”

Shades of blue and silver flickered across his features, and my mouth pulled back into a grin. He was embarrassed. He was
really
embarrassed.

“Well, this is awkward,” I laughed, standing less than an arm’s length away from him. “Can I ask you a serious question now?”

He looked down, raising an eyebrow. “Shoot.”

“Why can’t you touch me? I mean, you caught me in the hall, and you carried me across the quad. As you can see, I survived. So, why is it such a big deal now?” The words spilled from my lips as I finally let myself think about it. “And why do you worry about accidentally hurting people, anyway? You never seem to damage anything else. The house is still standing.”

“Ah, well…” He edged around me and sat on his bed, eyes distant and contrite. “I’ve practiced all of this day-to-day stuff, and I know how much pressure to use. I don’t even think about it anymore.” He shook his head at the thought. “But you should’ve seen me when I was younger. I destroyed everything in sight. We had to shop at thrift stores to keep up.”

I had to stifle a snicker, picturing Wallace like Little Bamm-Bamm from
The
Flintstones
. “Well, it’s not like it was your fault.”

“I guess not, but that’s hard to understand as a kid, you know? I felt like this little disaster magnet.”

“Little?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, come on. I was your size…” A slow-spreading grin lit his features. “When I was nine.”

I huffed and sat down beside him, giving his arm a shove that didn’t budge him an inch. “Funny. Now stop stalling.”

“It’s hard to explain,” he admitted. “Interacting with people makes me lose focus. I can’t concentrate, and I worry about what’ll happen.”

I felt my face fall as the implications of his words sank in. “You’re still carrying that guilt around, aren’t you?”

He nodded. He didn’t have to ask what I was referring to. We both knew Roman’s death haunted him on multiple levels.

“Wallace, I understand that. I do. But you can’t go through your entire life without touching anyone. What are you going to do when you have a family of your own?” I leaned in, looking up at him. “You’ve just closed yourself off from everyone. It’s no wonder you don’t know how to—”

“I won’t have a family of my own,” he said tersely. “I’ll never endanger someone like that.”

So stubborn…

“Look, if I haven’t given up on you, you’re not allowed to give up on yourself. I think you can get past this.”

“I don’t deserve to—”

“You are not a freakin’ monster!” I yelled in frustration, balling my fists. My blood had spiked to its boiling point, and I knew he could feel it.

His eyes widened and he leaned back, gaping at my reaction. “Rena…”

“Last night, you said you wouldn’t give me a reason to run away—well, I’m not giving you one, either! You’re not a monster, and you don’t deserve to live like this. It’s bad enough you have to deal with the damn headaches every day. This.” I grabbed his hand and held it up. “This should be something you can get past. I know it’s going to be hard, but,” I paused, finding little humor in what I was to say next, “you’re strong.”

Chapter Thirty-One

It was late—early, even—but I felt like we were onto something. If physical contact caused him that much discomfort, he’d gone without it too long. No wonder he couldn’t gauge how much pressure to use. When was the last time he’d let himself get close to someone, let alone a human?

Wallace stared at our hands together for a moment, shaking his head. “It’s not that simple.”

“It can be,” I countered, pressing his palm to my thigh. “You just need to start slow. You know, baby steps…”

“Look, I get what you’re trying to do, but this isn’t going to—”

“It’ll be fine,” I reassured him, feeling more tired by the minute. “Just try.”

“How do you know?” His gaze bored into mine, searching, almost pleading. “How can you be so sure?”

I frowned. “Do you want to hurt me?”

“Of course not.”

“Then think about that.” I slipped my hand in his before he could protest. “Let’s try a handshake. We did it once before. Remember? It lasted all of two seconds.”

“Rena,” he warned.

I squeezed until my knuckles lost their color. “Come on. You’re giving me a complex.”

“I really don’t wa—”

“Please,” I added, pouting my bottom lip. It was an underhanded, feminine tactic, but I needed the advantage here. “I want to try this.”

“You’re insane,” he grumbled, slipping into deep concentration mode as he grasped my hand. “There. Happy?”

“Mhm!” I forced my lips back into a smile. The pain wasn’t devastating—kind of like when you’re getting your blood pressure taken. There’s always that one, brief second when you’re convinced the cuff is malfunctioning, and it’s going to do you in Boa constrictor style.

“You okay?” he asked in a skeptical tone.

“Totally,” I lied, projecting the happiest mojo I could muster. My thoughts drifted to puppies, tater tots, and…shoving Cole into traffic.

A spark of hope ignited in his eyes, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “Really?”

“Yes.” I grinned back despite the pain.
Either my bones are about to snap or...gah!

He ripped his hand from mine and drew his brows together. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me everything’s fine and then panic about it.” He started to reach for my hand and hesitated. “Did I hurt you?”

I tucked my hand behind my back before he could see the marks he’d left behind. “I’m fine. Give me a little credit here.”

“Let me see it.”

“No.”

“Then we’ll do it this way,” he muttered, reaching across me. With a flattened palm, he guided my arm toward the front as if I were nothing more than a rag doll. My hand fell to my lap, swollen and flaccid against the white satin.

I was about to speak, when I felt his fingertips ghost over the palm of my hand.

His brow strained as he studied the darkened area, barely touching me at all. The trails he left tingled with electricity, making my heart beat faster and faster.

“See?” I swallowed. “Fine.”

The light danced across his features as he turned to me, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “Are you?”

I knew I was in trouble the second I made eye contact. The connection sizzled through my veins like wildfire, heating every inch of my body. “No,” I whispered, hating how breathless I sounded.

“Me neither.”

The scent of rain enveloped my senses as he leaned in, his lips nearly brushing mine—but then he stopped. Confliction lined his mouth, and he turned away without a word of explanation; he didn’t need one.

Without realizing it, I’d let myself become his burden, my every move a liability. No wonder he didn’t know what to do with me. If I didn’t stay quiet about all this…

My mouth fell open.
That
was it. He was struggling, because he was forcing himself to act interested. He was trying to win my silence, through my trust.

“Rena?”

“It’s an act, isn’t it?” I asked, hearing the words with bittersweet detachment. “This whole thing between us.”

His chin pulled back, taut with defense. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re into me,” I said, hardening my heart against his wounded blue eyes. “I won’t tell anyone about you.”

“You think this is about you keeping my secrets?” Irritation marred his expression as he leaned over me again, bracing himself on the bed. “You’ll convince yourself of anything to find a reason to give up, won’t you? You just don’t want to admit you’re afraid.”

My back went rigid. “Excuse me? I’m
not
afraid of you.”

“Yes, you are,” he shot back. “You’re afraid of me and everything I’ve dragged you into. You’re not in control anymore, Rena. You’ve lost that white-knuckled grip on the wheel.”

“Oh, that’s really nice.” I seethed, fisting the sheets.

“Isn’t it?” He worked his jaw. “You can’t stand the fact that you can’t fix me. I bet you wish you’d never tried to make me one of your charity cases.”

“You’re not a charity case,” I spat. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes, and he spoke with careful articulation, “Then don’t put words in mine.”

I could barely hear the TV over the hammering in my chest as we stared at each other, lost in a haze of aggression.

“You know what I think?” he finally asked, lowering his tone.

“What?”

“What you’re really afraid of is getting close to me.”

My jaw dropped. “That’s ridiculous.”

He leaned in, and I rocked back. “You think?”

I gave him a hard shot to the shoulder, narrowing my eyes. “Back off.”

He didn’t budge. “My point exactly.” Vertical lines creased between his brows. “Every time we start to relate on some level, you push me away. The same thing happened outside of the dorm, during the fire alarm. You think you’re the only one uncomfortable with this situation? Give me a break.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Do you think I like endangering you?” he asked, charging ahead with the conversation. “Do you find me so callous that you can’t believe I’d hate this situation? That it would make me sick? Someone hurt you because of me, Rena. Sometimes, I...” He gritted his teeth, never tearing his gaze from mine. “I wish we’d never met.”

The anxiety refused to settle in my chest, stinging my eyes and charging the air around us. “Yeah? Well, same here.”

A lie had never hurt me more.

Seconds ticked by, and his nostrils flared with barely restrained fury. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

He ground the heel of his palm against his temple, squeezing his lids shut. “I’ve been struggling, praying to find the will to stay away from you, but I just can’t do it. Now I’m getting mad at you, and I don’t even know why.” He clenched his jaw, and I couldn’t tell who he was angrier with—me or himself. “Everything’s so screwed up now. I just want you to be safe. I don’t care what happens to me.”

“What’s screwed up?” I asked, trying to catch my breath. “What do you mean?”

“Just forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I deflated like someone had pulled my plug. “If it involves me, I think I deserve to know.”

Some of the tension eased from his features as he opened his eyes to regard me, too tired to argue. “It’s about Sunday night, okay?”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Panic pricked my senses. “What about it?”

“Cole wouldn’t tell me all of the details,” Wallace said. “But he said I should be prepared to help take care of things.”

“Take care of things? You don’t mean…?” My throat went dry.
Oh God.
“You can’t.” I shook my head until blond strands fell forward, obscuring my vision. “No.”

“I
have
to,” he said, his voice laced with quiet resignation. “I don’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” I insisted, and when he didn’t respond, I spoke louder. “Did you hear me? There’s always a choice. You just have to make the right one.”