The Guily Ones

Head splitting headache

Although I was furious that the onlookers had seen me so vulnerable and humiliated, the sight of Eric standing there – confusion written all over his  half-smirking, dazed face—pulled an unwilling laugh-snort out of me, before I had to hold back tears again. With Eric, it was never just one thing. He made me feel everything.

Which had me lean forward to brush his lips in a quick kiss. "Thank you."

Of course, he and his oversized ego couldn't just take a simple compliment at face value. His chest puffed out slightly, his mouth twitching with amusement before he responded with his signature arrogance."Anytime."

I was mid-eye-roll, ready to turn away, when his fingers caught my chin. This time, he leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was anything but fleeting. He didn't pull back until my lungs burned for air and Megs' throat-clearing broke through the moment.

"She still needs to stand still if this is going to work," Megs grumbled, biting down on her words like she was holding herself back. "Not go weak in the knees."

I opened my mouth to retort, to mask the blush spreading across my cheeks with something sharp and cutting, but my brain felt foggy, dazed and my knees did buckle. Shit! 

Eric noticed – Of course, he did. His grin stretched wider, wholly satisfied as he took a deliberate step back, leaving me flustered and distracted. Sighing deeply, I heard myself mumble "Is there a cure for this man?"

The question slipped out before I could stop it, but Megs caught it anyway."The moment I find one, you'll be the first to know." Then I heard her voice in my mind, faint but unmistakable: You're not the only one he wraps around his finger.

The weight of her words hit me like a punch. Was she deliberately sharing her thoughts, or had that been an unintentional slip? I glanced over my shoulder at her, but she averted her gaze quickly, focusing instead on straightening my head again. However, before she yanked me into position again, I caught a glimpse at her, noting the exhaustion lining her face. It wasn't just physical fatigue—it was something deeper, a weariness born from carrying too much for too long.

I'd always assumed Megs was here for her own reasons—money, maybe, or some fascination with the supernatural. Perhaps a promise to her coven. What did I know about witches and their sense of duty? I'd only recently come to terms with the fact that there were more things between heaven and hell than I'd ever imagined —and that I was somehow smack in the middle of it all. But even as I physically felt the idea of supernatural existence slip from my mind again, while still actively thinking about it, having a literal witch rummage through my thoughts, I apparently still had difficulty grasping the ... well the magnitude of it all. 

Of the lives, it encompassed. The fates it forged. The longevity of it all.

Seeing Megs now, the pain, the burden, the heartbreak in her eyes, I realized she was emotionally invested, too. And that revelation hit me harder than I cared to admit.

I thought about all the times Megs had been a silent witness to the chaotic push and pull between Eric and me. My cheeks flushed deeper, not from embarrassment over what she might've seen but from shame at how much it must've hurt her. When my gaze lifted again, it met Eric's. 

He was watching me, his brow furrowed as though trying to decipher my sudden change in demeanor probably sneaking another peak at my emotional turmoil. He took a step toward us, but I widened my eyes and raised a hand to stop him, overwhelmed by a fresh wave of shame—and anger.

Did Eric know Megs had feelings for him? Was he using that against her? Worse, was he doing the same to me?

I darted a glance at him through my lashes, testing the waters, using my well trained charm, and his fiery response was instantaneous. Oh, he knew how to manipulate me. That much was clear. But was any of it real?