Page 64 of The Enemy Plot

That’s what I thought too. But Deacon doesn’t see it that way, and I can’t blame him. From his perspective, I betrayed him. Add to that the fear and stress of searching for her . . .

“I’ll be fine,” I mumble, standing up. “I’m just going to go to my room.”

Once there, I lie on the bed and wait, hoping to hear a noise from next door. I know Deacon won’t come home until he finds her safe and sound, so I keep my ears peeled.

I might not be a parent, or even have the maturity for it, but at this very second, I really feel like one.

25

Emotion Overflow

Deacon

My mind is a black hole. Dark thoughts have invaded every corner, and there's not enough light in the world to stop them. The worst part is, it’s all my fault.

I took out my anger, fear, and frustration on Alice when she’s been nothing but helpful when it comes to Lola—who, by the way, is grounded for life.

After I picked her up from the fast-food joint last night, she apologized all the way home and again this morning. I don’t think she’ll pull a stunt like that again anytime soon.The punishment puts my mind at ease. At least when it comes to my niece.

I tried to distract myself by working out this morning while blasting some music in my headphones, but the only thing that did was give me a headache. Looks like I’m back to being the guy I was before I met Alice.

We have our sessions with Dr. S. today, and I’m really not in the mood for talking. I’m two steps away from calling and canceling, but I know it’ll be good for Lola. There’s no way I’m letting her end up like me.

I drag myself down the stairs, and just as I’m closing the front door, Alice shuffles out of her building. One look at her, and it’s like I’ve just been hit in the chest with a dagger. Her eyes are puffy and red, dark circles underneath them. She looks exhausted. Drained of the usual joy that makes her who she is. And I hate seeing her like that. More proof that I destroy everything I touch, everyone I love. Which is why I have to stay away from her. She deserves better.

Our gazes cross, and I now feel like I’m bleeding out on the sidewalk, because what I see in her eyes is pure hatred and disappointment. The worst cocktail in history. She was happy when I met her, living in her personal romcom full of hope and pink and bows. In just three short weeks of dating her, I swooped in and burst that optimistic bubbleshe’d built. As always, I’m the villain who wrecks everything in his path.

I open my mouth to try and talk to her, but I’m not sure words will come out. What could I even say? That I’m sorry? That’s not nearly enough. No apology on the planet could make up for my outburst. So, I stay silent. In a way, it’s not a bad thing. She’s better off hating me.

Her gaze drops to her feet, and she just walks back inside, slamming the door behind her.

Lola peers at me for a second, but she doesn’t dare engage as we start the walk to Dr. S.’s office. She keeps her mouth firmly shut, and I stay silent too. Silence is a lot better than words, if you ask me.

She has her session first, then it’s my turn. When I enter his office, I want to grab Dr. Stewart’s stupid notebook and throw it out the window. Instead, I pace around the room.

“How are you, Deacon?” he asks, a little frown pulling at his lips. The fact that I barely said hello, and that I’m getting in my steps for the day, should probably give him some idea.

“Lola told me what happened,” he continues. “Is that why you’re angry?”

I stop dead in my tracks, throwing him a death glare. “Angry? You think I’m angry? You should get a refund for your Harvard diploma if you took one look at me and decided I was angry!”

“Then tell me. How do you feel?” he asks, unfazed by my outburst.

I run a hand through my hair and pull it hard. “I—I’m mad, frustrated, hurt. I feel guilty, empty, and I regret my actions. Is that enough emotions for you, doc? Tell me, what’s the cure?”

A faint smile twitches at his lips. “That’s a lot of emotions, Deacon. Any human being would feel .”

“It’s all my fault,” I groan.

“What is your fault?”

“I yelled at Alice, told her she was immature, that she was a bad influence on Lola. Now, we’re over.”

He nods, writing in his notebook. “And you regret telling her that?”

“Of course I do. She’s not a bad influence. She’s been the exact opposite from the moment she entered our lives. I was just angry at Lola, scared of losing her.”

“I see. And you don’t think Alice will ever forgive you?”