“Aislin. Tiernan’s sister.”
“Don’t send her after my mom.”
“Then tell her not to piss me off.”
“I’m serious, Rory. I can’t forgive that. I know she’s fucked up, but she’s all I have, okay? She’s all I’ve ever had.”
I don’t respond right away, just look at him, try to figure him out. Being alone like that…I can’t fucking imagine it. From the moment Cillian, Tiernan, and Ash entered my life, I knew I would never have to be alone. They would never take advantage of me or not care if they hurt me the way Kat does with him. Shai deserves better. “While you’re my pet, you have me.”
He rolls his eyes.
“I’m serious.” But it’s clear he doesn’t believe me. And why would he? No one in his life has ever been real. “We take care of what is ours.”
“I’m not yours,” Shai counters, looking away.
“Yes. You are,” I say simply, though what I said isanything but simple. I don’t even know what I mean by it or why I said it, other than it feels right.
“What’s your favorite movie?” he asks, surprising me.
We talk horror flicks again, sharing favorites.
“I watchedNightmare on Elm Streetwhen I was, like, five,” he admits.
“Always a good choice.”
“Yes, but probably not at five.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Jesus, Cherry. I never know what to expect from you.”
“That makes two of us.” I grin, and he chuckles.
“Anyway, my mom was gone doing…whatever the fuck she was doing. I was so scared at the beginning. I was a fucking kid, home alone, watching horror movies at night, but…I don’t know. Something about being able to watch it made me feel brave. That probably doesn’t make any sense.”
“So? We put too much stock in things making sense. What we feel or don’t feel has nothing to do with logic. It helped you make it through, that’s what matters.”
He nods like I’m right, like he fucking believes what I said, like it makes him feel better or at least like someone understands, and there’s something intoxicating about that.
“Yeah…yeah, I guess. Thanks.”
Shai gave me that piece of him, one that feels deeper than what a lot of people would see on the surface, so…I should do that back. That’s like, a thing people do. “My mom killed herself. I was home with her when she did it.”
Shai’s brows draw together. “Jesus.”
Yeah, I agree. It’s a lot.
“I was in my room, working on this model airplane—I was obsessed with flying as a kid. She used to do them for me, and this was the first one I did by myself. I finished it, went to show her, and found her. She slit her wrists, but she did it inher bed. There was blood everywhere, all the white sheets had turned red.” Sometimes when I close my eyes I see it, though I try not to.
All that red.
All that blood.
“Holy shit. I’m so sorry,” Shai says, and then I feel it…his fingers in my hair, the tips scratching at my scalp in this way that Cillian or Ollie would do to me. Affectionate, caring.
“I sat there with her for hours…on the fucking bed. I couldn’t move, couldn’t call anyone. She looked so fucking peaceful, Shai. I remember that. It’s wild that she could, surrounded by all that blood, but she did.”
His fingers burrow into my hair, gaze sad and sincere.
