Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 88

**OZ**

Kacia and Elias are in the car ahead. She insisted on driving him herself, which I get, he probably wouldn’t have said a word if I were looming over him in the backseat, but still. If someone tries to assassinate her again right now, I am going to be SO pissed. I lean forward slightly in my seat, angling myself to look through the front windshield and catch a glimpse of her car. Still there. Still intact. Okay. Breathing. I lean back. Mia is beside me in her car seat, humming some off key tune under her breath, kicking her little legs like she’s got too much energy and no idea where to put it. Every now and then, she glances at me with wide, curious eyes, completely unbothered by the fact that there’s a massive, brooding stranger squashed into the back seat beside her. She hasn’t learned to be afraid yet. That’s… Rare. Strange. Kind of nice.

“What’s up your rear?” Mandy asks suddenly from the driver’s seat. I blink. 

“Up my rear?” I echo. She shrugs. 

“Mia’s big enough to start picking up on bad words now. I’m trying to cut back on the swearing.” She explains. 

“Ah. Well, fair enough.” I reply, amused despite myself. She nods once, eyes still on the road. Then, casually, too casually, she speaks.

“So. Kacia.” She tosses out. I wait.

“Kacia and you…” She continues, drawing it out like she’s trying to summon gossip through sheer willpower. I don’t say anything. I know where this is going, and I have absolutely no idea how to explain whatever the hell Kacia and I are. There isn’t a neat label. And I’m not about to start unloading my romantic existential crisis in the middle of her minivan. Mandy groans and rolls her eyes dramatically. 

“You’re no fun. You’re practically glued to her side and don’t think I didn’t notice how crabby you got when she asked you to ride with me instead.” She points out. I sigh through my nose. 

“I have… Reasons.” I mutter. 

“Mm-hmm.” She hums, unconvinced. 

“You’re brooding about her like a lovesick teenager and I’M the one being unreasonable.” She teases. Time to deflect.

“Well, do you feel like talking about Elias?” I ask bluntly. 

“How are you feeling about seeing him again?” I follow up. I expect that to shut her down. Most people don’t like having their emotional guts turned inside out, especially not by a guy who looks like he eats his feelings with a steak knife. But Mandy just shrugs. 

“You have a point.” She agrees. Wait, what?

“Okay, me first then.” She says, like this is a game of truth or dare and we’re sixteen. 

“I’m… Beyond confused. And a little conflicted. I definitely wasn’t over him, so seeing him again is… A lot. I’m still mad, obviously. I mean, he broke up with me in a text, so, you know… Not a great move. But he also broke Mia’s heart, and honestly, that hurts more than my own.” She pauses for a second. Her voice stays level, but there’s something in it now. Raw.

“I THINK I need to hear what he has to say. If his reason is decent? I’m not saying I won’t make him grovel, but… I don’t think I could turn him away.” She admits. Then she turns slightly in her seat to look at me.

“Your turn.” She declares. I stare at her.

“Uh…” I trail off. Mandy laughs, far too delighted.

“Well? You started this. Now spill.” She insists. 

“I don’t know if I can talk about this with someone who is, forgive me, basically a stranger.” I say carefully. She doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Which is exactly why you CAN. I’m a stranger. No baggage, no history, no judgment. You don’t have to worry about what I’ll think. And hey, I might actually give you an outside perspective worth hearing.” She argues. I open my mouth. Close it again. Damn it, that makes sense. I glance at Mia. She’s started humming again, now using her fingers to ‘dance’ a little plastic cat toy across the edge of her seat. Oblivious. Innocent. I take a breath. Well, there’s no harm in trying.

It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts. Talking about this stuff? Not really in my wheelhouse. Especially not to a stranger in the front seat of a minivan while a toddler hums and kicks the back of the driver’s chair like it’s a drum. But… Mandy did ask. And against all reason, I find myself wanting to answer.

“Kacia and I…” I start slowly, unsure how much to say. How much I can say. 

“We haven’t known each other very long. But I got… Attached. Fast. A lot faster than I even thought was possible.” I confess. Mandy doesn’t interrupt. Just listens.

“She saved my life…” I continue.

 “And I repaid it by lying to her. Hiding things. And she still forgave me.” My voice is rougher than I mean it to be. 

“But I’m not always…” I pause, searching for the word. 

“I’m not always the safest person to be around. I think I might hurt her if I stay.” I say miserably. Mandy frowns at that, but doesn’t cut in yet.

“I promised her I’d help with her, well, her family stuff. Support her through that mess. But after that, I told her I’d leave. For her own good…” I explain, then I trail off. It sounds flimsy out loud. Even to me. Mandy waits a beat.

“And?” She says bluntly. I blink. 

“And… What?” I ask. She glances at me through the mirror like I’m being deliberately dense. “And what did SHE say to that?” She questions. I rub the back of my neck. 

“She… Disagreed. Strongly. She’s convinced she can change my mind.” I sigh. Mandy hums. 

“Can she?” She asked. 

“No!” I say quickly, too quickly. “I mean… No. She can’t. It’s for her safety. That’s the whole point.” I argue. 

“Uh huh.” Mandy doesn't sound convinced. 

“So… You’re worried you’re going to hurt her.” She confirms.

“Yes.” I say, relieved to land on something we both understand. 

“Physically?” she asks, her tone suddenly colder. 

“What? No! Of course not!” I shoot back, a little insulted. 

“Never.” I say firmly. Mandy relaxes slightly. 

“Emotionally, then.” She asks. I nod. 

“Yeah. That.” I confirm. She’s quiet for a moment.

“Would you ever hurt her on purpose?” She questions. I shake my head. 

“Never. I’d burn the world before I did that.” I insist. 

“Well, does she understand the risks?” Mandy asks, eyes on the road again. I nod slowly. 

“Yeah. She knows. She’s not stupid.” I grumble. 

“Then I really don’t see the problem here.” Mandy says. 

“If you want to stay, stay. Sounds to me like she thinks you’re worth whatever emotional fallout might happen.” Mandy says optimistically. 

“But I’M not!” I blurt out, before I can stop myself. There’s a beat of silence. Then Mandy makes a quiet little ‘ooooh’ sound.

“So THAT’S the problem,” she says, like something’s finally clicked into place. 

“It’s not about her. It’s about you. You don’t think you’re worth the effort. So you’re making this big noble sacrifice instead of giving her the chance to choose for herself.” She concludes. I stiffen, but she keeps going.

“You’re quitting before you even give yourself the chance to fail. Which, by the way, sucks. As someone who’s been on the receiving end of that kind of excuse? It’s garbage. Not knowing what went wrong. Thinking maybe you weren’t enough for them to stay and try, it sticks with you.” She says softly. I glance down at my hands. My fists are clenched in my lap.

“She knows that’s not what it’s like.” I mutter. 

“Does she?” Mandy shoots back. 

“Because it doesn’t sound like she knows. So here’s the deal, if you don’t actually want to be with her, fine. Tell her the truth and go. But if you do…” She pauses and turns in her seat just long enough to level me with a glare.

“…Then stop making excuses and put in the damn work!” She says hotly. 

“Damn work!” Mia chirps happily from the back. Mandy groans and thumps her forehead against the steering wheel. 

“Look what you made me do.” She says, frustrated. 

“Sorry…” I mumble. 

“I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” I confess. Mandy sighs, softening slightly. 

“Just decide. Either you care enough to face whatever sh-” She catches herself. 

“Whatever poop comes your way… Or you don’t. And if you don’t? Step aside and let her find someone who will.” She says it as if it’s so obvious. Then, as if she hasn’t just completely ripped my psyche open, she reaches out and cranks up the radio. Some bouncy, repetitive children’s song blares through the car like a glitter grenade to the brain. Conversation over, apparently. I stare out the window, silent, the words still turning over in my mind. Put in the work. We’ll see.