I want to pretend that I have no choice in holding her back, but I’m a liar. My arms are too tight, my nose buried in her hair. I drink her in. I crave her warmth. I close my eyes against the brutal burn pricking at the edges, burning the back. I think I’ve unmanned myself quite enough for one evening. Fawnie’s so much smaller than me, slighter built, but it’s her strength that I’m leaning on.
Yes,here.
In a public bathroom.
In a building that is going to be packed, full of people, a crush of humanity that I swore I’d never rejoin. Preacher will be here, my club brother that I’m betraying by being with his daughter. I said never. I meant never.
But it’s happening anyway.
I’m a great liar, but I can’t even halfway convince myself that I don’t want to be here, or that I want all of this to vanish, or that this woman doesn’t own half my damned soul already.
I thought I was done, but it turns out, I’m just getting started.
Chapter 15
Fawnie
After we left the bathroom, he wanted to stay back in the darkened hall for a bit, and I said that was okay, since I had to get into the crush of people to get a few bottles of water. I got a big bag of them, some for everyone, but I offered to drop them off and leave with Shadow if he wanted.
He seemed resolute that he didn’t.
He even found something of a smile to greet Rita and my dad with when they arrived, the kids too, although calling a sixteen-year-old and a twelve-year-oldkidsjust feels wrong. I thought it might be more than slightly awkward having Rita and my mom in the same place at the same time, but it hasn’t been. The boys are at the end of the row, while Rita is sitting on the other side of my dad, who is by my mom, and then it’s me and Shadow. The first thing Rita did was offer my mom a handshake that turned into a hug, and tell her how glad she was that we could all be here. She told me I looked beautiful and let Shadow know how sincerely happy everyone was that we were doing this.
It’s not one of Rita’s strong suits to be early, and I totally get it because… teenage boys, but they did make it about two minutes before the music started.
The second the lights dimmed fully, casting the entire theater in flickering candlelight, Shadow seemed to relax a bit. He’s clutching a bottle of water tightly between his hands, tryingto focus on the music, and while it’s beautiful and soothing, I know that he’s still uncomfortable.
Honestly, I should have listened to my dad. He tried to talk us out of this, but I wouldn’t listen. I was too stubborn, so certain that this is what Shadow needed. I had no idea he was going to make himself sick. He’s not staying because he wants to enjoy the music. He’s staying forme, and while I appreciate thatsomuch, that wasn’t the intent of the gift.
I can’t take his hand in mine without someone seeing and noticing. It would make him even more uncomfortable than he is already. I can’t set my hand on his knee or slip my arm around him or do any of the things I want to do to let him know that I’mhere.
The first few pieces start and end, applause ringing through the theater with every single finish. After the third time, I get a little braver.
I slip my hand between my armrest and Shadow’s, finding the hem of his shirt sticking out from under his leather jacket. He’s already tense, but he goes absolutely rigid when my fingertips meet his warm skin. He’s hunched over, and he could fold in half all the way and leave me nowhere to go, forcing me out, but he doesn’t. He straightens ever so slightly, leaving me the smallest gap. I press forward until my palm is flat against his abs. I’ve felt them over his clothing before, butholy shit.Carved or washboard doesn’t even begin to describe the hard muscle.
He’s so hot, his skin smooth.
I remember the night I saw him with no shirt on, covered in his blood and literally steaming. He was tall and streamlined then, but his body is so different now. He’s forged and honed it into a sculpture.
Amazingly, I can actually feel his muscles expand and contract with his breath. It seems to come easier, not harder, and eventually, the tension bleeds out of him. He relaxes just enough that our shoulders brush together.
Most of this time, I’ve been watching him out of the corner of my eye and not the stage at all. His lashes flutter downwards to rest against his cheeks as he closes his eyes. He keeps them closed. I glance down and see his hands moving, as if his fingers are finding invisible piano keys.
My throat aches with tears I don’t want to let fall as a look of serenity erases the lines from his face. All those burdens he’s been carrying, all that pain, all the memories, the fears, the turmoil and grief, seem to lose their hold on him, unspooling and leaving him in peace.
I watch him, rapt, my chest so tight and my heart aching so badly that it might all explode at any minute.
This.This is what I wanted for him, even for just a moment.
Even if the starlight above us is only a field of blue smudged with lights and we can’t see any stars at all. Even though we’re surrounded by other people—it’s like a moment created just for us. I wanted to give something back to him, literally just one of the many things he lost, because of his selflessness in saving me. He’s said over and over that he doesn’t need saving in return, but I don’t know. I just don’t know.
It makes this moment all that much more glorious. Bittersweet too. it’s not perfect. It’s not pain free. It was hard earned getting here. I know it won’t last forever.
It’s over all too soon.
When the lights come back on, dim, but still far more than darkness, and the musicians set aside their instruments after the applause dies down, and people start milling around for the intermission.
I withdraw my hand slowly, letting Shadow know how much I wish I could let it linger, but I know Dad will get up for a stretch, and probably Rita and the boys too. I can’t risk any of them seeing my hand under Shadow’s clothing. That would be a big what the fuck when what I want most is for Shadow to enjoy the rest of the evening the same way he just was.
