Chapter 202

Chapter 202
I didn’t pull my hand away, my fingers staying where they were, caught in that space between reacting and choosing not to.

Not when Torin had gone so still after what I’d said. Not when the air shifted between us like something had just been set down that neither of us could ignore anymore..

His fingers were still wrapped around my wrist, not tight, not loose; steady, warm, like he hadn’t decided whether to let go or hold on.

My pulse beat once against his thumb, then again.

Say something, I willed, but he didn’t, and my pulse picked up just enough to feel it where he was touching me, my breath not quite lining up the way it should as I held his gaze.

The silence stretched longer than it should have.

“You don’t get to do that,” I said quietly.

His brow pulled in slightly. “Do what?”

“That,” I repeated, my free hand lifting slightly before dropping again, like I couldn’t decide what to do with it. “Answer just enough that it sounds like something, but isn’t.”

The words sat heavier once they were out, and I watched his jaw tighten. 

“That’s not what I’m doing,” he said finally.

“It is,” I replied, softer now, but not backing off. “You keep saying things like they’re answers, but they’re not. They just…close the door.”

I felt it even as I said it. The shut-down. The wall he had erected, though his thumb moved once against my wrist. Small, but I felt it.

“I told you what you need to know,” he said.

My breath caught slightly at that, not because of the words, but because of what sat under them; control

“That’s not your call,” I uttered.

His eyes held mine. “It is when it keeps you out of things you don’t belong in,” he returned.

My fingers curled slightly, my jaw tightening as I pulled my hand free this time, not yanking, just…taking it back.

The loss of contact lingered longer than it should have.

“I don’t belong in your circle, you mean,” I declared.

“That’s not what I said,” he protested.

“It’s exactly what you said,” I shot back, stepping away from him, putting space between us that hadn’t been there a second ago. The distance didn’t help, didn’t fix it.

He didn’t follow. Didn’t even try to close the growing emotional gap between us, and that only made it worse.

“I’m standing right here,” I continued, my voice tighter now, my hands moving because I couldn’t keep them still. “I’m already in it, whatever it is, and you’re still acting like I’m not supposed to anything about it.”

“You’re not in it,” he muttered.

I laughed, a short, dry spurt, no humor in it. “Then what was tonight,” I asked, turning back toward him. “Because you don’t disappear for hours and come back for nothing.”

My chest tightened slightly as I said it, because I already knew I wasn’t going to get an answer.

His gaze didn’t shift, didn’t soften as he repeated his earlier words, “Club business.”

I shook my head, pacing once across the small space, then back, my hands dragging through my hair before I let them fall.

The room felt smaller now, tighter, almost like the walls had moved in just enough to notice.

“That’s not an explanation,” I growled.

“It’s the only one you’re getting,” he returned.

I stopped, looked at him, really looked, and for the first time since he walked back through that door, something settled into place in my chest that I didn’t like. It wasn’t confusion, nor frustration, it was something clearer, colder.

“You don’t trust me,” I breathed.

He didn’t answer, didn’t deny it, but he didn’t confirm it either.

My throat tightened slightly as I swallowed it down, my gaze dropping for a second before I forced it back up.

“Fine,” I muttered. The word came out flatter than I meant it to. I hadn’t trusted him, and now the tables were turned.

I turned away from him again, moving toward the door without really deciding to, my fingers brushing the keys on the table before I picked them up.

“Where are you going,” he asked, his voice lower now.

“Out,” I replied.

He raised an eyebrow. “Out where?”

I shrugged, not turning back. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he said.

I let out a breath that felt more like a laugh, shaking my head as I moved toward the door. “Funny,” I muttered. “Because it doesn’t seem to matter when it’s you.”

That hit him where  intended. I heard it, felt it…the shift behind me, but I didn’t stop.

My hand hit the door, pulling it open, and I stepped through without looking back.

“Marlowe.” He said my name like it was supposed to stop me.

It didn’t, not this time.

“I’ll be back,” I said over my shoulder.

Same words he’d used. Different meaning.

I stepped out into the night, letting the door close behind me with a soft click, the sound sealing something I wasn’t ready to name yet.

I didn’t go far at first, just down the steps, and across the lot. My feet moving without direction, my thoughts catching up in pieces instead of all at once.

You don’t belong.

The words sat wrong. Stayed wrong. Because if that was true, then why did it feel like everything was already shifting around me anyway, as if I was already part of something whether I wanted to be or not.

I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through my hair as I stepped off the curb, my gaze lifting toward the street, and that’s when I saw  headlights from an nonmoving vehicle. 

My steps slowed and my chest tightened. I wasn’t naming it fear, not yet. Just awareness. The kind that came before it. The kind that didn’t let you ignore things.

I stilled slightly, my weight shifting as I tried to place it.

The car didn’t move,dDidn’t roll forward, it just sat there like it had been there, watching, or waiting.

My fingers curled slightly at my sides, my attention locked on it.

Probably nothing, I told myself. But I didn’t really believe that. Not with the way tonight had felt. Not with the way everything that had been going on.

I finally took another step, then another and the car stayed where it was, and for the first time since I walked out that door, I wondered if maybe I should have stayed inside.