He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat at the thought. What would he do without Nico? Was he coming to tell him that the council had spoken and he’d been excommunicated from the group? Nico went to the washer directly in front of Mal’s seat, hopping onto the top and swinging his feet, flip-flops dangling from his toes.
He wore a pair of Mal’s pink joggers and a black hoodie that had Mal’s name emblazoned on the back. That had to be a good sign, right? Why would he be wearing Mal’s clothes if he was done with him?
Nico looked at Mal from beneath hooded lids. “You left without me.”
Mal blinked rapidly at Nico’s sulky tone. “You didn’t seem like you wanted me around.”
Nico scoffed at that, still looking pouty. “I always want you around.”
Mal swallowed past the lump in his throat at Nico’s casual statement.
“Then are you mad at me?” Mal finally asked. “Did I do something that upset you? You’re acting weird.”
Nico heaved a huge sigh, giving him a soft look. “No, of course not. I just have a lot on my mind, you know?”
Mal didn’t know. When Nico had a lot on his mind, it was Mal he talked to. He stood and crossed the room, heart in his throat as Nico opened his knees to let him step between them. “Like…”
Nico shrugged, mouth twitching in what might have been a grimace. “I’m just thinking about when I was little.”
Mal’s stomach swooped. “About your mom?”
Mal had never met Nico’s mother, but she was the bane of his existence. If not for her, Nico would be his. He was certain of it. If the two of them were ever in the same room, Mal might go back to prison. He’d never understand Nico’s loyalty to her. Never. He rarely talked about her, but Levi did. Levi hated her, too, hated how she’d warped Nico’s whole idea of love.
Nico nodded, scraping his nails over his clothed thighs. It was a nervous tic, something he did when he was edging his way to a panic attack. “I called her on my way home from school. It went straight to voicemail.”
Mal took Nico’s restless hands in his, squeezing them tightly, hoping it might help regulate Nico’s system a bit. “Maybe she was on a plane or in the middle of something.”
Nico gave him a sad smile. “I’m not offended that she didn’t answer. I just can’t stop thinking about stuff from when I was a kid. Dark stuff. Stuff I don’t want to think about.”
“What brought this on? Your mom not answering your call?”
Mal’s heart seized in his chest when he realized there were suddenly tears in Nico’s eyes. What was going on with him? Was this Mal’s fault? Had he pushed him too hard last night?
“Degas,” Nico said.
Mal blinked at him stupidly. “The painter?”
“Mm,” Nico said wetly, tears spilling onto his cheeks. Mal released his hands to wipe at the wetness, but it was useless. He was crying too hard. Mal wasn’t sure Nico was even aware of it. But he kept talking, so Mal went back to holding his hands, stomach dropping when Nico threaded their fingers togetherabsently. Like it was his default setting. Like Nico’s hands belonged in Mal’s. “He was the topic of class today. I told the professor that Degas was a psychopath who probably had body parts in his freezer back in the day.”
Mal snorted, shaking his head. Of course, Nico had said that to a room full of art history students. He really had no filter.
“I’m sure he loved that,” Mal said with a faint smile. “Why, exactly, do you think this about Degas?”
Mal didn’t care about Degas or the potential bodies in his freezer. He only cared that Nico was talking to him, holding his hands, confiding in him again. He only cared that Nico was still his.
Nico sniffled, then shrugged. “There’s a girl on TikTok who thinks Degas was the real Jack the Ripper. Her evidence is pretty compelling.”
Mal laughed softly. “So, you shared this with the class?”
Nico nodded. “I just wanted him to leave me alone.”
Nico was not the world’s most devoted student. Mal wasn’t sure why he was even going to school other than it just seemed like something to do. He had no real major in mind to Mal’s knowledge. His general education classes seemed to bore him. He was so much better at just…doing.
Reading didn’t work on Nico. Nico was a tactile person. Show him something being done and he could emulate it. That was why he was so good at helping Jericho in the garage. He’d learned from spending hours following the older man around. He’d had plenty of time. Everything good about Nico had come from Jericho taking him in as a pre-teen.
Mal caught Nico’s gaze, staring at his wet lashes. “Explain to me how Degas being a serial killer led to you wanting to call your mom and thinking about stuff that happened when you were little.”
The sudden dread in Nico’s eyes instantly made Mal regret asking. But he didn’t take it back. This was something Nico needed to get out. To purge the toxins from his system once and for all. Nico fell silent for a long while as a black hole formed in Mal’s chest. Maybe it was mean to make him relive all this.
