He crumpled further into Karim, who only held him all that tighter.
“I’ve got you,”he whispered in Luis’s ear.
The tears went on for a long time. Long enough that Julien joined them on the bed, taking up the other side, a gentle hand rubbing up and down Luis’s back. He was sweaty and congested by the time he was done, but the crest of emotion had passed, drained out of him like a poisoned wound finally lanced.
Luis understood now that there was nothing between him and his mother that he could save. No repair that could be done. They were far, far past that line, and they could never go back.
The guitar was such a small thing compared to trying to kidnap him, but it hurt, in some ways, more. She didn’t need to take something he loved, but she had. She’d done it to hurt him.
“Sorry,” he croaked as he pulled out of Karim’s neck. There was a huge wet spot along his collar when Luis rubbed his eyes. Karim only looked at him sadly.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Julien asked.
“It’s–” and then his throat clamped up around the words. He cleared his throat and cast a hand in the direction of the empty stand. “My mother was here. My guitar–it’s–she’s probably destroyed it already. I’m sorry. It just meant a lot to me.”
Their eyes went to the empty stand.
“Luis, I’m so sorry,” Julien said. “I remember you telling us it was your prized possession.”
On his other side, Karim made a sound like a growl.
“I–yeah,” he said.
Karim’s face was a tight fury, the muscle in his jaw standing out. His hands were curled into fists in his lap.
For some reason, seeing his anger helped. Luis wasn’t the only one upset by what had happened. It was nice that Karim was upset for him. Luis had always secretly liked Cassie’s rants about his mother; they'd made him feel less alone, like his feelings weren’t stupid or misplaced.
“I’m going to have to move,” Luis said. The thought had been creeping up on him in the last two days, but now he was speaking it into being. He’d never be able to come back into this bedroom and not think about this moment, about her coming into his private space and taking the one physical object most precious to him.
She could’ve ruined a lot of things in this apartment and he wouldn’t have cared. She’d known exactly what the guitar would mean to him.
“Yes,” Julien said simply. His hand was still rubbing up and down Luis’s back. Luis leaned into the touch.
He lingered there a minute, then took a deep breath and stood.
“I’m going to pack my things. I don’t want to stay here,” Luis said in explanation.
Both vampires stood, Julien calm and attentive, and Karim doing his best to suppress his anger. Luis looked between the two of them, unspeakably grateful that they were here.
“How can we help?” Julien asked.
Chapter Twenty Two
There were shackles around Luis’s ankle. Shackles that were attached to the middle frame of the bed. No matter how hard Luis pulled, he couldn’t move the bed frame.
The chain was just short enough to keep him from reaching the window. The escape. Luis scrabbled at the wall, trying to pull himself closer. He had to get out before they came back.
He yanked and yanked at the cuffs, and they cut into his skin. The bed wouldn’t move. He couldn’t reach the window. Panic filled his lungs, choking him.
They would come for him soon. They’d drag him to the van, drive him to the middle of nowhere and no one would ever find him again.
The window was right there–so close–and Luis couldn’t reach it.
The cuffs started to cut in, hot blood leaking onto the floor. He tugged at them with useless rage.
Then there were steps outside the door. The lock disengaged. They were going to hurt him, change him. Make him into someone else.
“Luis,” a voice said, close and urgent. Hands came down on his shoulders, holding him still, and he flailed, lashing out.
