Haya

“ "It's a workshop. Nothing but tools."
"So why would it be locked?" I asked.
"I'd love to say it's suspicious," SImon said. "But if this Banks guy had kids around, then I'm not surprised. My dad isn't exactly Mr. Handyman, but he kept a lock on his toolbox. You know parents, Paranoid."
"Yeah," Derek said. "Especially after their son flattens his fingers trying to nail a drawing to the wall."
"Hey, I'm not the genius who suggested it." Simon glanced at me. "Tape wouldn't hold it, and Science Guy explained that the paper was too heavy for the adhesive. So I got some nails."
Derek rolled his eyes.”
― Kelley Armstrong, The Reckoning

“ "I put you and Simon in danger just by..."
"By being here? And what's the alternative? Take off? Give up on finding your dad? Leave Simon behind?"
He blinked. "No, I wouldn't leave...but I feel like..."
"Feel like what?"
He shook his head, looking away. I walked around in front of him.
"Feel like what, Derek? Like you should leave? Like we'd be better off if you did?"
He rolled his shoulders in a half shrug, then looked away again. I was right. He just didn't like hearing the thought voiced; it sounded too close to self-pity.
"No one is better off if you leave," I said.
"Yeah." He mumbled the word, unconvinced.
"Simon needs you."
I need you. I didn't say that, of course. How could I, without it sounding weird.? But I felt it, heart hammering against my ribs, and it wasn't some romantic I can't bear to be without you nonsense. It was something deeper, more desperate.
When I thought of Derek leaving, the ground seemed to slide under my feet. I needed something to hold on to, something solid and real when everything around me was changing so fast. Even if there were times I thought it would be easier without Derek there, ready to tear a strip off me at my every misstep, in some ways I relied on that—someone to keep me thinking, keep me striving to do better, keep me from burying my head and praying it all worked out.
When he turned away, he must have seen it on my face. As fast as I tried to cover it up, it wasn't fast enough, and when he looked at me, the way he looked at me...”
― Kelley Armstrong, The Reckoning

“ "It's me," whispered a familiar voice.
"Der—"
Thwack. He stumbled, Liz behind him, a sturdy branch raised.
"Liz, it's—"
She hit him again, a home-run swing between the shoulders, and he went down with an oomph and an oath. She recognized the voice—or the curse—and leaned over, getting a look at him.
(Liz) "Whoops."
(Simon) "I'd say he deserved that, always sneaking up on people." ”
― Kelley Armstrong, The Reckoning

“ "It was hot at the restaurant," I said. "So I rolled up my sleeves."
"What?"
I pushed my left one up, showing four bruises, dark as ink spots. Simon paled.
"My aunt wanted to know what happened. When I wouldn't tell her, she tricked me into admitting it was a boy. She met Derek this morning and he was rude, so she decided it had to be him. I never confirmed it. If he's in trouble, it is not my fault. I had every right to tell someone and I didn't."
"Okay, okay." He rubbed his mouth, still staring at my arm. "So he grabbed your arm. That's what it looks like. Right? He just grabbed harder than he thought."
"He threw me across the room."
Simon's eyes widened, then he lowered his lids to hide his surprise. "But he didn't mean to. If you saw how freaked out he was last night, you'd know that."
"So that makes it okay? If I lose my temper and smack you, it's all right, because I didn't mean to, didn't plan to."
"You don't understand. He just—"
"She's right." Derek's voice preceded him around the corner.
I shrank back. I couldn't help it. As I did, a look passed through Derek's eyes. Remorse? Guilt? He blinked it away.”
― Kelley Armstrong, The Summoning