Yes, I was reminding him. I didn’t want him getting any ideas. But I wasn’t in the mood for a fight


    either, so I matched his serious tone.


    “Jace, I flew all the way here. Do you really want to start an argument right now?”


    He went quiet, his lips twitching like he wanted to say something snarky, but all he said was, “Give


    me your luggage.”


    I handed him my suitcase without a second thought, and we walked out of the airport together in


    silence.


    Since he didn’t bring up Steve’s situation, I decided to. So, what’s going on with Steve? What’s this


    fight about?”


    “He’s still in detention. No visitors allowed right now,” Jace said, making me frown.


    So my trip here was basically pointless? The whole reason I came was because Jace said Steve


    was losing it, and I thought I could help.


    “But I’m working on it. You’ll see him–soon,” Jace added, switching up the vibe.


    Tignored that and pushed for more info. “Why’d Steve get into a fight?”


    “It happened during practice. The guy’s name is Danilo Cruz. He’s a sparring partner at the gym but


    super unreliable–shows upte, leaves early, doesn’t focus. Steve asked for a recement, and


    when Danilo got warned by management, he flipped. Started with some words, and then it


    escted.”


    With Steve being detained and no visitors allowed, this clearly wasn’t just a regr fight. “Did Danilo


    get hurt? Like, really hurt?”


    “He fell and hit his head on a pool table. He didn’t make it.”


    The weight of his words sank in, and I stopped walking,


    Jace stopped too. “They’re still waiting on the autopsy report. If it shows Steve wasn’t directly


    responsible, his sentence could be lighter.”


    Could be. I hated how shaky that sounded. “And if it shows Steve was responsible?”


    One thought hit me hard: An eye for an eye. It didn’t matter where you were; that rule was


    universal.


    “I’m pulling every string I can. It won’te to that,” Jace said, ncing at his watch. “You haven’t


    eaten yet, right? Let me get you something.”


    ”


    I wasn’t in the mood for food. “I’m not hungry.”


    “Even if you’re not, you should eat. If you get sick, how do you think I’m supposed to exin that


    to… him?


    He gave me a look.


    By “him,” he meant Hayden.


    Suddenly, I realized how insane Hayden’s confidence was. He left me with Jace, my ex–fiancé, the


    guy I’d been in love with for ten years. Even if Hayden trusted me, wasn’t he even a little worried


    Jace might not be over me?


    “You’re taking this babysitting thing pretty seriously,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.


    Jace shot me a nce. His expression darkened.


    We didn’t talk again until we reached his car. As he opened the door for me, he asked, “Who like


    eating?”


    do you feel


    Before I could answer, he said, “I know a ce.”


    The drive was quiet, the city lights blurring outside as I stared out the window. My mind was too full


    to focus on anything.


    When we finally got to the restaurant, I ordered something light–a kale sd with goat cheese.


    Jace, though, went all out, adding mushroom risotto and even throwing in dessert.


    “No dessert,” I said, shaking my head.


    Belongs to (N)?vel/Drama.Org.


    “Yes, dessert,” he shot back. “You used to say sweets helped when you were down.”


    I was surprised he remembered that.


    “Not every bad mood can be fixed with dessert,” I muttered, unable to help myself.


    I didn’t need to be harsh, but something about being around him just brought it out.


    “Does hurting me make you feel better?” Jace asked, pouring me some water. “Does it make up for


    all the pain I caused?”


    “No,” I said honestly, then added, “But I can’t help wanting to hurt you anyway.”