Voice of reason. Leah huffed a laugh, though it held very little humor. Sometimes she got so tired of being someone else's voice of reason. It was infinitely easier than not caring. Much as she didn't like admitting it, saying that she didn't care was a lot harder than some people thought it was. Sometimes she wished she didn't care so much. "You said you were just going to talk to him." In that same deadened tone. They both knew the truth of it, though. With a guy like Rodeo, there wouldn't be much talking going on. "He said he was going to come after your family, and you had to do something about that. I get it. It's the same thing Brandon does." She had to be her brother's voice of reason too many times, too.
Things shouldn't have been as complicated as they were. That was how it always was, though. Leah watched O'Brien's reaction to her words in her peripheral vision. She held her breath to stave off another wave of impending tears, but they were already starting to fill the corners of her eyes. None of this was his fault, and that was the worst part of this whole mess. It wasn't his fault, yet she was taking back what she'd given him. Such was the usual fate of anyone who ever tried to get close to her.
Leah lifted her eyes to the high ceiling when O'Brien began insisting that he could bring her brother back before anything bad happened to him. So much for not letting any more tears fall. Warm liquid trailed down her cheek, and she fiercely wiped it away with her blanket. "It won't do any good," she said, moistening her lips. "He's probably already there, and even if he wasn't, Rodeo would still probably come after somebody. Brandon can take care of himself." Much as she didn't like him going into dangerous situations, her younger brother could handle himself better than anyone else she knew.
Chance or no chance. Somehow, hearing O'Brien say those words — even though she'd already said them herself — made them that much more real. She closed her eyes again, feeling more tears trailing down her cheeks. Everything wouldn't be okay. Nothing would ever be okay. "It's not your fault." Leah let out a shuddering breath, drying her face again on the blanket. "It's..." Her fault. It was her fault, for letting him get close. "It's Rodeo's fault." Because it was easier to blame Rodeo than anyone else. He was the criminal, tossing around threats, causing trouble.
It hurt, hearing him ask if she needed anything. It hurt that not even her revocation of letting him get closer wasn't even affecting his compulsion to make sure she was okay. Leah wished she could flip a switch inside her, so that she wouldn't have to feel or care about anything. Oh, how much easier her life would be, if that were the case. She'd never flip the switch back.
Leah swallowed past the lump in her throat. She couldn't do this. She wasn't strong enough to push him away. Her eyes lifted to his, still shining with unshed tears. "Please don't go. Please don't leave me."