Roland pulled the pizza out of the oven and placed it on a cutting board. He opened the sketchbook again and flipped through it. There was a drawing of Pete, asleep on the couch in what Roland knew was the curve of the backs of his knees. He remembered the night Donny had drawn that. They’d just eaten Indian food from a place in Little Armenia, and Pete had jumped up onto the couch, meowing like mad until Roland had moved to accommodate his tiny little body. Donny had laughed at the dance and pulled his sketchbook out of the couch cushions to draw the moment. The memory of Donny’s laugh echoed through his head and stung as sharply as Roland’s own loneliness.
He ate half the pizza with a frown on his face, then carefully closed Donny’s sketchbook and returned to his studio. Roland had just filled a palette with paint when there was a knock at his door.
Donny. His heart hoped again. There was no one else it could be. Roland’s hands shook as he set the paint down and returned to the front of the penthouse. He wiped his palms down the front of his jeans and pulled the door open. His jaw fell when he saw who was standing in his hallway. It wasn’t Donny as he'd hoped.
“Gabriel,” Roland choked out.
“Roland.” Gabriel offered him a curt nod of his head. “May I come in?”
Chapter 26
All He Could See Was Roland
The day before,Athena held Donny until he stopped crying, then wrapped him up in a blanket like a burrito on the couch and promptly left the house. She returned quickly with a bag of items from the grocery store, which she put away in the fridge except for a giant package of bacon. She cooked the entire thing, brought it to Donny, and sat at his feet.
“Who do I need to kill?” she asked, motioning wildly with a strip of cooked pork.
“It’s not like that,” Donny mumbled through the blankets.
“Is it Roland? I’ll go over there right now, Donny, I swear.” Athena held a piece of bacon out for him and he snaked his arm out of the blankets and grabbed it, taking a small bite. It tasted like nothing to him.
“Athena, just stop, okay? I don’t want the fucking Athena the whole world gets. I just want my fucking sister.”
Her mouth opened slightly then closed. She reached out and took the bacon from Donny’s hand and dropped it back on the plate. She stood up and carried it into the kitchen. Donny heard it clatter in the sink and listened to her footsteps return to the living room. She stood above him and looked down, her hands on her hips.
In a move he hadn’t seen in years, her face turned sympathetic and she folded herself down into the couch between Donny and the cushions, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly. Like she used to… when they were kids.
Donny had always been bullied growing up. He was too weird, or too small, or worse—that tall freak’s little brother. And maybe Donny was weird, but wasn’t everyone a little weird in some way?
“Donatello,” Athena started, but was cut off by his groan.
“What? You said to do it like when we were kids.” She settled herself behind him and squeezed. Donny sighed.
“Tell me what happened yesterday.”
“I don’t even know. Roland got jealous, I think, when he saw me with Chris.”
“Chris?” Athena snorted, then did her best to tamp down her amusement.
“I know. But it could have been anyone. It wasn’t that it was Chris. It’s more like… I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just Roland’s issues with Roland. And he got drunk and projected them onto me.”
Donny had, at first, been utterly confused when he showed up at Roland’s after he’d taken off from the birthday party, but when Roland had tossed Chris’s name out, everything snapped together. It wasn’t about Donny, and it wasn’t about Chris. It was Roland. And Roland was having areallybad day.
It had been a considerable amount of time, at least as far as their relationship was concerned, since Roland had spiraled that splendidly. Donny had stood beside Roland and battled through it in the past. He’d let Roland spit out his self-loathing and his despair, then pulled him into bed and held him until he calmed down and fell asleep. Donny didn’t mind. Being there for Roland like that made a small part of him feel important, and he liked that. Donny wasneeded, and before Roland, he’d never understood how muchheneeded that feeling in his life.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Athena’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“No,” he whispered. “Well, not physically.”
Donny had been clear with Roland from the beginning. The next time Roland wanted to have a dramatic pity party and throw Donny out would be the last time. And Donny didn’t have much, but he did have his word. So he'd let Roland cast him out. But Donny hadn’t prepared himself— he wasn’t ready.
“Are you going to go talk to him when he settles?”
Donny shook his head against her chest.
“I told him if he threw me out again, that was it.”
“Again?” Athena’s voice rose.
