Yeah, I got nothing. Spoiler alert—it’s vicodin.

“You good?” Shawn asks. I look up and he’s arching a thick brow my way.

Oh, he’s talking to me.

I clear my throat and crack my neck. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just caught me off-guard.”

He drops his eyes to my wrist with a frown.

I make jazz fingers and give him a little wave. It seems to do the trick. His attention is firmly back on Mason.

Mason winces, shaking out his arms. He looks at me, face pinched with remorse.

I’m quick to wave him off. “I’m fine. Promise.”

He scowls and looks sidelong at Shawn. “I think I need a meeting.”

Shawn simply nods. “I’ll shower first.”

Walking past me, he pauses. “I heard what you said before. If your dad comes anywhere near you, we’ll fucking end him.”

I blink.

Mason’s already busy unwrapping his hands and doesn’t seem to hear Shawn.

I don’t get a chance to even attempt to respond to that before Shawn disappears upstairs.

Shaking my head, I head over to the stereo and turn it off.

“I’m sorry about that.”

I sigh, head hanging. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I just get so...lost in my head sometimes.”

I know, man. I know.

“You sure you’re okay?”

I turn and flex my hand for him. “Not even a twinge.”

He nods once. Twice. Then, “I know it bothers you.”

I stiffen.

“I’m sorry I don’t know any other way to...” He trails off with a shrug. “Deal. Other than punch something. I know it probably reminds you—”

“Stop.”

His mouth tightens.

“It’s different, okay? It’s not like you want to hurt anyone,” I say.

It’s a lie, and we both know it. If it meant bringing Izzy back, he’d hurt the whole damn world to get to her. Me included. Hell, Shawn, too, probably. The only safe ones would probably be his mom and sister, and even then...

Who knows?

Death is a cunt like that.

Eyes tightening at the corners, he nods as if reading my mind. “No one I care about.”

Lies, lies, lies.

But I try to smile anyway. Convey that it’s okay; it’s okay that he’s angry, even if it’s with me. I can take it.

God, we’re a mess, I think as Mason matches my smile with a forced one of his own.

It never used to be this fucking hard. Not with us. But what was once solid and impenetrable is now this fragile, broken thing. Memories are now little cracks in the surface; we can try to hold the pieces together with glue, but it won’t erase them. It will never fill the gaps.

Only she could.