9 "You don't have to go home."

Dew collected on Jemina's newly bandaged hand. The doctor had just said they were free to go. Jemina stood on the sidewalk, and she considered taking off her heels. They were starting to hurt. But, bare feet would probably send her back to the urgent care facility based on the condition of these streets. Maybe Marin would carry her.

Moonlight traced the edge of the face, defining his cheeks, nose, and jaw. Dark hair formed a crown on his royal scalp. Her gaze flitted down to his lips.

No, she wouldn't ask him again. That'd be rude. And...she was scared. Being in his arms, with a clear head, would make her nervous.

Marin looked down at her. "Do you need a ride home?"

Her eyes went wide and her jaw slacked. That question jogged her memory of this night. Oh, God. What did she do? She swore she wouldn't have an outburst like that again. Harsh words ruin families.

"You don't have to go home," he put his hand on her back. Tingles raced from that spot.

Whirls of black and brown swam in his eyes. She stared into them as she mouthed "thank you."

He smiled back, and her heart skipped a beat. "I know a place."

They began to walk to his car. So many emotions swirled in Jemina's gut, and she kept her head down.

"Gotta put food in you somehow."

-

Neon pink lights shined on Jemina's gauzy fingers as Marin ordered two large glasses of water and a strawberry ice cream cone.

Jemina's cheek was plastered to the table as she stared at her wrapped hand. The table was freezing against her skin, but she needed it to stay awake. How was she going to explain her hand to Kelly and Anthony? Did they even deserve an explanation?

"Are you okay?"

She had sobered up enough to speak clearly, but didn't want to after the night she had just had. But, Marin had cared for her all night in lieu of clubbing with his friends. She probably shouldn't ignore him. She didn't expect the energy it would take, and her voice broke into shards of glass. "I'm so lost."

She couldn't see his face but heard his equally desperate voice. "Me too."

What did that mean? To what was he referring to? Jemina cleared her throat. "I'm sorry."

Time passed and Jemina was acutely aware of how much. Would staying any longer jeopardize her career? Would the Sorrentinos tell Chua about what she did? How could they? They were supposed to be cut off from FBI communication.

Unless they were hiding that from her too.

Even though she knew she should, she just couldn't find the energy to go back to that house. All the words she'd be forced to swallow inside that house weighed on her chest. She wasn't able to talk to anyone there. But, she wasn't there yet.

And there was someone in front of her.

"I got in a bad fight with my Aunt and Uncle."

She couldn't see him and he didn't say anything, so she kept going. "I saw someone hit a child and I told them and they began to defend him. I just—I couldn't—"

Metal tassels jingled as she sat up and looked at him.

Something sparkled in his eyes and he leaned forward to clasp her hand. "It sucks when the people you love turn out to be not-so-great. But, I'm sorry, you did the right thing."

The warmth of his skin surprised her and she squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

He smiled and opened his mouth as if to say something but the steps of work boots cut him off.

The uniformed worker stopped in front of their table. "Sorry folks, I know we advertise as a 24-hour diner, but Clarissa called in sick and I'm not about to cover for her. Time to go home."

Jemina stood and walked outside. Her head was spinning with the revelations of tonight.

"You don't have to go home," Marin stayed beside her. His breath blew billowing clouds visible in the chilly atmosphere. "We could go somewhere else. Not my house, but—you could probably go to one of my buddies' houses."

"No, the guy was right. It's time to go home."

-

The ceiling was more appealing to look at, but eventually, she had to bring her eyes down to Anthony's pissed face. Jemina's nails tapped against her side in a quick pace.

"Where were you?"

"Don't act like you have any authority over me," she cocked her head and stared accusingly. "We are both special agents."

"Who has more experience?"

"That's exactly it. All the years have made you numb. That child means nothing to you."

He sneered. "Take a good hard look in the mirror. You're already numb."

He's wrong. Jemina thought back to the butterflies from tonight. She was definitely feeling something. On the sudden high of thoughts of Marin, she just stared at Anthony. He was not worth this. "Don't talk to me, Anthony. We don't even know each others' real names—no need to start interacting now."

On her way up the stairs, she heard Kelly speak to Anthony. "Don't be too hard on her."

"She's being weak."

"Yes, but you don't have to break her. As you said, she's our only hope."

By the time she was in her room, Jemina was desperate to get the heels off. She considered taking off her tassel dress, but the energy to do so had left her. Stars danced in her eyes and she made no effort to blink them away.

Her chest lurched forward and she stumbled to the bathroom to puke her stomach out.

Clutching the throne, the bed seemed so far away. The frigid was maybe even starting to feel comfortable.

Despite her physical exhaustion, her brain was as awake as ever. Without the blasting club music to distract her, thoughts tormented her.

Slipping her purse off her shoulder, she dug out her phone and earbuds. She tried to drift off to the sound of her childhood, but not even Paramore could silence her troubled mind.