Cheesy

*Maverick*

I stare at my phone, my thumb hovering over the compose text button. It shouldn’t be this hard to send a simple text, to type in the number and then strategically ask the questions I need to. But it’s the fact that I typed the number with ease that reminds me of who this is.

I remember only four numbers by heart. Both my parents, Tatum’s and Jackson. The best friend I have ever had. The same guy who would have left his family behind happily if it meant he could fight by my side. It was always his dream, this life I’m living. If only I could tell him just how much he would have hated it.

There is no doubt in my mind that crossing this mental barrier that I put up for emotional protection for myself will mean there is no going back. Once I send this text, Jackson will never let me out of his life again.

Or maybe he will when he finds out that the Maverick he used to know is gone, replaced with a broken, darker version. It’s not my choice to send this text, to track down