US (Formerly The After Effect - Book 2)

1 8 - S U R P R I S E, S U R P R I S E

//okay, I know many of you have been aching for another chapter. The hold up is a concoction of things, aside from my busy life. This chapter is packed with stuff and craziness that I wasn't sure if I should go down this road or not. You definitely have to tell me your thoughts at the end!//

"Brink—what are you—how?"

He walks in like he owns the place, glances around at the space I've dubbed my shelter for the last eight hours or so, and crosses his arms as if to say, I haven't been outside your cabin for the past hour having a conversation with you.

The sight of him standing before me completely throws me off more than anything. Still, my thoughts are clear as day in my mind, and slip off my tongue in one fluid thread of words before I can further consider them. "Brink I'm so sorry."

My arms begin to reach toward him—and for a fraction of a second I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing—and I stop in midair. Thankfully, the motion was not big enough for him to notice. Or maybe he did notice. I can't be sure. Most importantly, I need him to hear me out and hopefully accept my apology as I give it. Our relationship in general has been nothing but back and forth, and quite terrible as a whole, but there's got to be hope for renewal. For a clean slate. I'm over the blame game. I'm over the he-said-she-said. I want peace. I want acceptance. I want civility.

"Sorry for what?" he asks, nearly smirking. Then I realize he's got something else on his mind. Telepathic conversation with the others?

How long has he been separated with them? Or are they just around the corner?

"Listen!" I lecture him. This is my chance at giving him a one-on-one apology with no one else around to judge or stare. "I'm sorry for everything. You and Zeriah. You gotta tell him, too. I didn't mean—"

And I start to crack. Right there. But I puff up my chest and stand strong. It's time to act as tough and independent as I want to be treated. And although Brink is one of the only people who shows me the respects I want, he clearly lacks in other departments.

"I really have been underestimating my power. I don't know—I still don't know my capabilities, I almost killed you guys back there and—"

"Hey. Stop. Just stop." He raises his hands in the air and waves them around. "We're okay. Is this really why you left? Because of us? Because in all honesty, I take the blame for it. I should have said something before just acting out. But I saw it. That look in his eyes was too familiar. And all at once the pieces came together that Damon was in his head. I couldn't wait another second. But I shouldn't have jumped on it like I did. I know it freaked everyone out, not just you. Zeriah only listened because he read my mind, same for Stella. If that's why you separated from—"

"That's not the only reason," I snap, and recoil as if he's going to swing at me, but I don't fear him. It was my words. They came out like sharp, serrated knives. Luckily, Brink doesn't seem to be fazed by my cruelty, so I attempt to fix myself before I get worse. "It wasn't the only reason," I say quieter. "It was Travis, too. And me. I don't...know who I am anymore."

"Well Travis can go screw himself," Brink growls, and glances out the cabin window. "Damn, I only 'helped' the bastard because it was bad for the rest of us to keep the chip in him. It was nice to get some fight out, though. I won't say I was gentle."

I roll my eyes at the rivalry between the two of them dating back to Travis's time at the HQ. I don't know if either of them will ever let the other off the hook. I assumed Brink was one hundred percent in the wrong, simply due to the evidence of how he treated me there, but I wasn't there each and every time they met. Plus, I can't vouch for how much of it was because of Damon.