Mum’s eyes widen in surprise for a moment before her expression settles into something interested and pleased in equal measure. “What about?”
“My partner,” I tell her, keeping it vague for obvious reasons.
I don’t expect her to know who I’m talking about, but she surprises me again by prompting, “The scary blond one? Liam?”
Liam. It’s strange to think she knows his “real” name. I should probably ask if he would rather I call him that, but he didn’t seem bothered by it, so the question might be moot. Jack isn’t the type of person to get caught up in that stuff, unlike his brother, who used his name to reclaim some identity back from OI. I wonder if Dan has another name, one his mother called him by, like Jack does.
Mum’s eyes track over me, stopping on a couple of spots where I know there are bruises made by Jack’s hands. She squints at me, and there’s another question on her face that she won’t ask aloud.
I mirror Mum’s posture, crossing my arms, feeling suddenly defensive. “Yeah, him.”
Mum makes a low humming sound. Her eyes flicker to the doorway, and I think maybe it’s over, but then she says, “He here with you now?”
I think about lying because I have no idea where this is going, and I don’t want to involve Jack if I can help it. He’s more than a match for Alicia, but he’s made it clear how he feels about her, and I can’t guarantee one of them won’t wind up worse off from any altercation they get into. I don’t think Jack would hurt her physically, not when he knows how I feel about it, but they could still say things to one another that I’d rather they didn’t.
“Yes,” I answer, telling the truth in the hope she won’t do anything insane like go and try to talk to him. I could never lie to her anyway. She always seems to know. Damon says it’s mum magic. He could never get away with anything either.
“Are you fucking him?” Mum asks, so blunt it makes me choke on my own spit; Jesus Christ,why?
“Piss off!” I snap out at her, my cheeks flushing with unwanted heat. I still have Jack’s cum coating the inside of my hole. Fuck, that’s so not something I want to think about with Mum standing right here in front of me.
Mum seems amused by the reaction, which only makes me feel more embarrassed and desperate to do a runner to escape this moment.
“Is he any good?” Mum asks, more to poke at me than anything. I can see it in her eyes.
“Piss. Off,” I enunciate slowly.
Mum tips her head back and releases a long, boisterous laugh. Lines appear around her mouth and at the corners of her eyes. Laugh lines. It reminds me of her age. She seems timeless to me some days. Not young, exactly, but fixed. Unchanged. Incapable of it. Mostly that’s nothing but a pain in my arse. But there are the occasional moments when I’m almost glad for it. As much as she gets on my wick, as difficult as she can be, I can’t imagine living my life without her in it. She is, for better or worse, mostly for worse, my mum, and I do love her despite everything.
“Is it serious, then?” Mum asks when she’s finally stopped cackling at my expense. “This thing with your partner?”
I take a second to answer, rolling possible responses around inside my head, wondering how much information is too much to hand over. A rush of air leaves my mouth, a prelude to whatever words my jumbled brain will decide to fling out.
But I don’t get that chance.
There’s a second where everything feels like it comes to a dramatic pause, the air in the room stilling, and the quiet seeming to become an oppressive force. I’ve felt it before, this prequel to disaster, the calm before every storm.
It takes me far too long to realise Mum and I are not alone in the kitchen.
I don’t know when he broke in, or how; if he came in through a window or the door that Mum probably forgot to lock behind her. It’s a testament to how silent he’s capable of being that I heard nothing of his approach.
But none of that matters, not right now, because when Dan steps out of the shadows, dressed all in black, he has a gun pointed unwaveringly at us. His hood is up, partially concealing his face, but I couldn’t mistake those eyes as belonging to anyone else other than the twin brother I know for a fact is still upstairs in my bed, waiting for me to come back with water.
There’s a deep, swirling rage in those eyes, eyes so pale and so green, set to a fever pitch. He looks half out of his mind with it, which spells all kinds of trouble for whatever this is about to become.
Dan’s on the other side of the kitchen island, near the door. Otherwise known as the only viable exit.
Mum doesn’t notice Dan’s presence until he speaks, voice strikingly familiar and gritty, like he’s been chewing on wet sand, grinding them together, trying to make glass to spit at us.
“Leo Snow, agent of FISA.” He tilts his head, eyeing me speculatively. “Son of ex-OI Agent Roux Nova and active socialite Alicia Snow.” He doesn’t look at Mum, but I twitch in her direction anyway. Mum lets out a small gasp, her eyes widening in fear and shock, and grabs hold of my arm like she’s just seen a massive spider she wants me to get rid of.
Dan doesn’t take those green, green eyes off me as he keeps on talking with the same gravelly undertone, a casual threat in every word. “Nephew of renowned scientist Dr. Alexander Nova and Director of FISA Anabelle Snow.”
I don’t know why he’s saying all this. Maybe just to prove he knows exactly who I am, to scare me. If that’s the case, it isn’t working. I’m not afraid of him. It’s entirely possible I’m blinded by my connection to Jack, but there’s nothing in me that sees Dan as anything other than a man in desperate need of help.
I meant what I said to Jack and Anabelle. I want to help Dan. He deserves it just as much as Jack did. Whatever OI has done to him, however much they’ve fucked him up with their new drug, we’ll find a way to fix it, to make it right.
“Dan,” I murmur, keeping my voice level and calm, not wanting to trigger any kind of violent reaction from him. “Your name is Dan Roth. Your brother’s name is Jack. You were trained by Obsidian Inc., and they think you belong to them. But they’re wrong. You don’t. Whatever they’ve ordered you to do, you don’t have to do it.”
