“I’m tired, too.” He wiggles, bumping into me. “You can help me decide in the morning.”
“I’m leaving soon, Tobias. You understand that, right?”
“Mmm.” He nods into me. “You’re going to America and I need to stay here with Keira and Cole. But it’s only for a little while. Just like a sleepover.”
I press my lips into his hair and close my eyes. “Yeah. Just like a sleepover.”
There’re moments of silence, the nothingness stretching into agonizing heartbeats. I want to cling to him. To squeeze so tight. But I refuse to let him see me suffer. He’s already been through enough.
“You’re not going to miss Baba, are you?” He turns toward me to stare through the darkness. “Not even a little bit?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “I won’t.”
“I don’t want to miss him either,” he whispers. “But I do.”
“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay to feel that way. You’re allowed to miss him, and you’re allowed to want to forget him, too. It’s even okay to miss him one minute and want to forget him the next. There’s no rules for grief.”
“Grief?”
I give a half-hearted smile. “It’s an adult word to describe the mix of feelings we have when someone dies.”
“I don’t like grief. It hurts.”
“Yes, it does. But it gets easier with time.” Or so I’m told.
“Keira lost her baba today, too. Do you think she knows he was a bad man?”
I exhale a heavy breath, not feeling comfortable answering anything where Keira is concerned. “I think she only found out recently. But maybe that’s something the two of you can discuss. You can tell her what it was like to live with your father, just like she’s telling you what it will be like to live with her in Portland.”
He pulls back, pausing a moment. “I can tell her things? I wasn’t sure I was allowed.”
“Yes, you can tell her.” It’s time for me to give up my parental hold. Once I’m gone, I’m sure they’ll never let me back into his life. I’ll be a stranger. A fading memory.
“Do you think she’s like him?”
My insides squeeze, my conscience preparing to wage war with my insecurities. “I think if she was like him you wouldn’t feel comfortable around her. You’re a smart boy, Toby. Listen to what your heart tells you.”
“My heart tells me I’m going to miss you.”
I struggle to breathe as I pull him into me, placing a punishing kiss to his forehead. “I’m going to miss you like crazy, little man.”
“Keira said you would.” He wraps an arm around my waist. “She also said you need to go home and be with your family. That they’re the ones who will make all this better.”
I don’t appreciate her spinning those lies. I also don’t appreciate her making this easier on him. That’s meant to be my job. Yet I’m struggling to do it.
“That’s right. Everything will be better once I’m home.” I give him a quick squeeze, then drag my arm back to my side. “But now it’s time for you to get some rest.”
“Okay.” He sighs, swiveling around so his back faces me again. “Good night.”
“Good night, little man.”
I stay there in the quiet while his breathing grows shallow. Peaceful. He doesn’t twitch or cry out. For a long time, I wait for nightmares to plague him but when they never come I slide from the bed, too overtired to sleep.
I walk from the room and into the dimly lit hall. I don’t hear chattering voices anymore. There’s nothing. No sound.
I wonder if the guard is still in the sauna, his blood covering the floor, my crime readily available for anyone to see.
I question whether Torian will dispose of the evidence like he did with Chris. Will the body disappear? Will the scent of bleach fill the sauna the same way it does in the living room? Or will his body remain there, waiting to be found with my fingerprints on the shears?
I continue strolling through the house aimlessly. I reach the frosted door to the gym, then think better of returning to that nightmare. Instead, I turn to retrace my steps. I walk by a closed door with murmuring voices emanating from the other side—Keira and my brother. I keep going, keep passing rooms until I’m at the most familiar, standing in front of Luca’s ajar door, the slight opening to the awaiting darkness taunting me to take a look.
I don’t fight the desire. I’m done fighting all together.
I sneak inside to find him outstretched on the bed, the light from the hall casting him in a faint glow as one arm rests over his eyes. He’s shirtless, his satin boxers the only thing covering a partial part of the landscape of dips and dives built of muscle and sinew.
I don’t know why, but an invisible string pulls me forward. I can’t stop the momentum.
Before—at the start—I hated him for the way he tempted my hope. Now I want to apologize for what I’ve put him through. He’s done so much. Too much.
I continue my silent approach to the foot of his bed and watch him sleep, his inhales long and drawn, the exhales smooth and subtle.
I shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t remain staring at him, the quiet minutes making him more familiar. But I’m caught up noticing the smaller details I hadn’t noticed earlier. I see the stubble on his face, which is now longer than when we first met. He’s more rugged. More ragged. Then there’s his mouth, and those lips that appear far kinder when they’re not pressed tight with disappointment.
“Can I help you?” he mumbles.
I gasp, my heart squeezing as I grasp at my chest. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He remains still, that muscled arm continuing to shield his face. “I haven’t slept.”
“Not at all?” I blurt. “You should’ve said something.”
He lowers his arm, his dark eyes capturing mine. “I was waiting to see if you were going to try to kill me again. Then I began hoping you would because my head is fucking killing me.”
I wince, wishing my gratitude over him saving me was enough to stop his pain. “I’ll go.” I backtrack. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
“No. Stay.” He places his hands behind his head, his brow pinching as he re-settles himself on the pillow. “What’s on your mind?”
Nothing.
Everything.
I don’t even know where to start.
“Can’t sleep?” he asks.
“Not really.” I lower my gaze to the bedframe and rest my fingers on the carved wood. “I think I’m too tired.”
“Tell me what’s worrying you.” He sits higher, still wincing with the movement when he rests against the headboard.
He sounds sincere. So real. So caring.
I hate it and love it at the same time.
“What will happen to my sisters?” I divert the conversation away from me. “What will Hunter do with them once they land?”
“They’ll be taken somewhere to regroup for a while. A safe house of sorts. That’s where they’ll be coached on what to say to their family and the authorities once they’re ready to return home.”