Page 164 of Lessons In Grey

“Shut-up, Jeremy!” I snapped, jerking the lid off. I poured a few in my hand and dumped them into my mouth, using the alcohol to wash it down.

I winced at the taste, gasping for air when I finally pulled the bottle away and shut the cabinet, finding my eyes in the reflection.

There was such anger and pain there. Red around the irises. See, I could be better. I was better.

Everything was fine.

“Emily.”

I growled under my breath and stormed towards the door only to stop with my hand on the doorknob.

My phone was still ringing.

Grey was on the other end, probably hoping for a happy, excited me. He would tell me something poetic about how much he loved and missed me and what would I do? Be short with him? Snap? Yell? Start an argument he wouldn’t have time to even finish, leaving us both feeling shitty. And then he would go out, guns blazing, angry at the world, at me, and he would make a mistake, and he would get shot, all because I couldn’t keep my fucking emotions in check.

I couldn’t do that to him.

I couldn’t put him in that position, it wasn’t fair.

I pressed my forehead against the door, looking down at myright palm, the feeling of his lips so prevalent, it made me want to scream.

The ringing finally stopped, and the tears poured down my face as the guilt flooded through me. Fuck.

Jeremy was quiet a moment. “Why don’t you want to answer the phone?” he asked quietly, as if he knew I was standing right there.

I sniffed and turned my back to the door, sliding down to the floor with a thump. What was fucking wrong with me? I was delusional. I didn’t need to be on anti-depressants, I needed to be on psych medication. “I’m going to yell at him,” I confessed, staring at the shower across from me. “He doesn’t deserve that.”

There was a shuffling and then I heard him sit directly behind me. “You don’t deserve to hold that in.”

I could almost feel the ghost of his back leaning against mine as I worked my jaw, working the bottle between my hands. “Why should I be allowed to be angry at him for doing exactly what he said he’d do? He’s protecting me. He’s doing his job. We talked about him leaving on missions. I understood what it meant. Ichosethis.”

Jeremy sighed. “Yeah, Em, but talking about it and going through it are two different things. Trust me. You’re allowed to be angry, and you’re allowed to yell at him for it, but you need to know that he’s allowed to get frustrated that you’re angry about it too. That’s how relationships work. You can’t just ignore him though. He's going to think something is wrong.”

“He trusts me.”

“He trusted you last time too, remember?”

Yes, he did, and that wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t remember the fact that I hadn’t called him or told him or anything like that. I had been reliving the same day over and over again for a week and a half. “You both are living with me, there’s no reason for him to worry that something’s going to happen.”

Jeremy was quiet a moment. “So, you’re just not going to talkto him until he returns? Because if that’s your plan, you need to remember that it could be six months until he gets back. There are no timelines on this type of thing.”

I glanced at the door. “I thought Jack was supposed to be an excellent tracker. I thought Azrael was a psychopath. What’s the point of having such an elite family if they can’t find one fucking guy?”

Jeremy sighed. “Louis isn’t just any guy, Emily, he’s one of the more dangerous people Malachi has gone after. They thought they had killed him years ago, which means that he’s had all this time to rebuild his people and come up with a plan to take down Malachi and his son.”

I glared at the bottle. “Why is he targeting me and Grey?”

He tapped the floor a few times. “I don’t know.” He paused. “Maybe that was a Malachi and Grey mission. It’s hard to keep track. Maybe he sees Grey as the weaker of the members and figured taking him out first would be a good step.”

“Well, that’s just stupid,” I muttered. “You always take out the strongest first.”

He paused again and I could only imagine the face he was making at my perfectly reasonable response. “Emily, you have to talk to him.”

My glare softened, the pain and guilt trickling through me. I took a painful gulp of alcohol and shook my head. “I can’t.” I couldn’t knowingly make him feel horrible about the decision we both made. I couldn’t.

Jeremy’s phone started ringing and I looked up, my heart thudding.

“I have to answer it.”