Tabatha jumped backwards, skirting until she hit the wall.

She didn’t seem as if she registered hitting the wall. Her gaze was glued to Jordan and he dropped to the couch. His head in his hands, his elbows on his knees and he bent low, letting out a long and low, savage growl before he shot back to his feet.

His eyes were wild and he advanced on her. “You messed up by not coming to me, to us. That’s it. We know he told you that you had to do what you did, and that’s a crime.”

Her eyes started shining, and she began blinking rapidly.

Her face lowered.

He was across the room in two strides. Touching under her chin, he raised her head up and he kept on, speaking softer, “I’m a guy. I can’t put myself in your shoes and tell you what you should’ve done or shouldn’t have done. The only thing I can say is that I wished you had come to me. That’s it. I can only imagine you felt a certain way, a desperate sort of way that you did what he said to do so that the whole situation didn’t blow back on your mother. Right? Because that’s why you did what you did, if you felt forced to do what you did.”

Tears were rolling down her face.

I was thinking this wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation.

“I’m sorry, Jordan.” Her voice cracked into a whisper.

“I know.” He stepped back, looking at me.

Zellman had been sitting on the other couch this whole time, his own bag beside it and he watched all of it. Cross came back to the living room, a few water bottles in hand, and he handed them off to Z. They were passed to Jordan, then Tabatha.

She took it, staring at it, and she began picking at the label, just running her nail over it. Back and forth. Back and forth.

“I–Jordan told me what you guys have done.” She looked up, tears brimming around her eyes. “Thank you.”

I nodded. “We care.”

Her face shuddered.

“Thank you,” she choked out again.

“Tab.” Jordan reached for her, but she dodged him, bending to grab one of her bags. She went around. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. Excuse me.”

Jordan let out a ragged breath when we heard the bathroom door close. The fan was turned on after that.

He sank back down on the couch. “Holy fuck.”

Cross moved in, taking a seat on one of the chairs. He sat on the arm, his foot going to the coffee table.

Zellman lounged back on the couch, his leg resting on the table, too. Both were watching Jordan, and Jordan looked to me.