Decoy grinned. “If you can call what he’s doingon the couch. But he’s here for you, all right? Stay off the stairs if you’re still wobbly as fuck.”
I didn’t want to think too hard about what that meant. I pressed my forehead to Decoy’s until my brain swam. Then he kissed my cheek again and left, and I fell asleep again so fast I could hardly remember being awake when I found myself conscious again sometime later.
Food.
I smelled it, and it drew me upright and out of bed.
My feet hit the floor and I tested my equilibrium. It held, just, but before I addressed the empty cavern in my abdomen, I needed a shower.
I limped across the landing and stood under the spray, letting the hot water return mobility to my stiff joints.
By the time I got out, I felt halfway human.
And lonely.
My bag was still tucked down the side of Decoy’s bed. Inside, I found clean clothes I didn’t remember washing and a book that wasn’t mine with a handwritten note stuck to the front.
It was a battered copy ofMoonfleet, and the note was from Embry, with a doodle that had Liliana written all over it.
Don’t get bored. It’s the worst fucking thing.
I didn’t need a biker chaplain to tell me that, even one with as much life experience as Embry, but I appreciated the sentiment. And the book. I hadn’t read it since I was ten years old.
My clothes were folded in the same neat piles that Decoy’s were in the drawers. I pulled on my shorts and a T-shirt that looked better on him. Then I gave in to the call in my heart, padded downstairs, and found myself mightily disappointed by the face at the kitchen table.
“Christ.” Cam laughed. “Show me how you really feel, brother.”
I made an effort to school my features, which only made him laugh harder as he rose to guide me to the table.
Sighing, I let him and pulled out a chair. “You here to rip me a new one for putting Alexei in mortal danger?”
Cam scoffed. “Even I’m not that thick, mate. I came to apologise.”
“For what?”
“Hang on.” Cam got up and moved to the stove.
He came back with a plate of food that would forgive him for just about anything.
“That’s better.” Cam retook his seat. “Decoy’s worried you ain’t eating. This is what I make for Saint when he’s not hungry. It’s not much, but it puts a smile on his face sometimes.”
He passed me a fork.
I fell into the plate of eggs and green-spiked potatoes before I remembered he had something he wanted to say. “What’s the apology for?”
The faint amusement faded from Cam’s rich dark eyes. “For talking to you like shit when you’d been to hell and back for the sake of the rest of us. I know you had other reasons for doing what you did, but that’s what it meant to me—to my family—and I’m sorry I didn’t show it when you brought Alexei home.”
“You didn’t owe me that.”
“Debatable. Alexei told me he’d be dead without you. And I’m still sorry I didn’t put more energy into your wellbeing before I got in your face about other shit.”
I cleared my plate and pushed it aside. “Don’t feel too bad. I don’t remember most of it.”
“You remember me asking you about Viktor?”
“I think so.”
“If I asked you again, would your answer be the same?”
