I huff a quiet laugh, but it’s cut short by a sharp knock at the door. Koen steps inside, and I instinctively straighten. In his hands is a tray with a steaming bowl of tomato soup and neatly stacked grilled cheese sandwiches. Without a word, he crosses the room and sets the tray carefully on the edge of the bed.
“I’m sorry for not thinking about this sooner.” He crouches in front of Sparkle, taking the spot I’ve just vacated. His expression is softer than usual, a hint of regret flickering across his features. “You lost blood. You need food. I thought you needed rest, and I should have been smarter than that. But Levi?—”
“It’s okay,” Sparkle cuts him off, but I don’t let her finish.
“Yeah, you let her rest onHarrington,” I snap, my irritation bubbling back up to the surface. “What the fuck, brother?”
Koen straightens. “He would’ve never hurt her.”
“I don’t care what he would or wouldn’t have done. He helped us, sure. He helped her and Levi. I’m not disputing that.” My jaw clenches. “But his hands still don’t have to be on?—”
“Idecide whose hands are on me.” Sparkle cuts me off firmly. “And for the record, I didn’t mind. I like him. You know that.”
“Which is the fucking problem.” I whip around to face her. “Nicholas-fucking-Harrington? We don’t trust him. Maybe his plan is to whisk you away with his billionaire charm to show you that you’re into rich boys and boring monogamy after all?”
Sparkle narrows her eyes at me and opens her mouth to rightfully whoop my ass, but before she can retort, Koen cuts in. “He’s on our side.”
I huff, crossing my arms. “Sure, he is.”
“Oh, shut it.” Sparkle rolls her eyes at me.
Tension lingers until she breaks it with a bite into one of the grilled cheese sandwiches, followed by a happy hum. The simple sound eases the weight in my chest, and the sight of her eating helps to smooth the frayed edges of my irritation.
“Well…” Koen stands, “… let’s talk this out, then. Get down there and see who stands where.”
“She’s still eating, and her hair is wet,” I protest, glancing at Sparkle, who’s spooning up her soup.
Koen moves toward my en suite, grabbing the hairdryer. Coming back, he sits behind Sparkle and starts to dry her damphair.God. This could all be so good.Koen, Alaric, and me with her. Eating, living, being a fucking family. Domestic shit.
When Sparkle finishes eating, I take the dishes and set them on my desk. Grabbing a pack of cigarettes, I light one and pass it to her, watching as she takes a drag and blows out a stream of smoke. Koen puts the dryer away, then sits back down behind her, his fingers threading through her hair to start braiding.
“You think clearing things up now is a good idea?” I ask.
“I don’t know, maybe she’s not up to it,” Koen mutters, his fingers weaving through the strands. “She’s already had to explain everything tonight.”
“I’m right here, dickhead.” Sparkle exhales another billow of smoke. “Just because I’ve got you two overbearing mother hens now doesn’t mean I can’t decide stuff for myself,” she says dryly. “And I want to talk this out. But first…” She turns to me, hope flickering in her eyes.
“I bet he’d talk to you if you take it slow,” I assure her softly, then snag the cigarette from her and take a drag myself. “Just don’t push him, and maybe it’ll work. Told you he’s a little scaredy cat.”
Her smile is small but genuine as I stand and put out the cigarette, gathering her matchbox and phone from the en suite. Handing them to her, I help her stand, and we walk to the door. “All right. Let’s do this. His room’s the second door on the left.” I grab her hand and squeeze it. “You’ve got this, Sparkle.”
She takes a breath, nodding, determination flickering behind her eyes. Her fingers move over her phone as she heads toward Alaric’s door. Koen and I linger briefly before heading down the stairs toward the living room.
“Fuck, what a shit show,” I mutter.
“Shit show, indeed,” Koen agrees.
As we make our way downstairs, a heavy weight settles in my chest. The kind that comes from knowing you can’t controleverything, no matter how hard you try. The people I care about are scattered, fragile pieces of a puzzle that don’t quite fit together yet.
Alaric’s fighting his ghosts upstairs. Nicholas is tangled in this mess whether I like it or not. And Sparkle… she’s the thread holding all of us together, even when she’s falling apart herself.
God, I want to fix it all.
To hold everything together with my bare hands if I have to. But some cracks can’t be filled by sheer will. They need time. And trust.
But we’re in this together. We always have been. And no matter how tangled things get, we’ll find a way through.
Maybe thiscanwork.
