Notshove an electric knife into Ezra’s stomach?
The nausea wells up so suddenly, I almost don’t make it to the kitchen sink before I’m spewing up stomach acid. Guess I’vealready digested Sharon’s Thanksgiving dinner, and thank fuck for that. Her turkey was bad enough going down.
There’s a hand rubbing soothing circles onto my back a moment later.
Then an arm supporting mine.
Kai and Bastian lead me back to the kitchen counter and help me onto a stool.
“I’m okay,” I mutter, batting away their hands. “Just stop fighting, will you?”
“We weren’t—“ Kai begins, right on top of Bastian’s, “That was not what?—”
Thankfully, when I hold up a hand, they both stop.
Bastian brings me a glass of water, and I gulp half of it down. He turns away, but I grab the sleeve of his shirt, halting him.
“Kai’s right. We can’t keep hiding our demons from each other. This thing—“ I glance back at Kai, standing at my other shoulder “—is only going to work if we can trust each other.”
Bastian looks away, staring at nothing for a moment. “Demons?” he huffs, a rueful smile touching his mouth. “I’ve got Satan in my back pocket.”
A chill goes through me, followed by another sharp spike of nausea.
“We’re not in a position to judge,” Kai says.
Bastian’s smile hardens when his eyes move to Kai. “If there wasn’t a blizzard out, you two would be long gone.”
“No we wouldn’t.” I lay a hand on Bastian’s arm. “Why do you think we came to you? This is exactly?—”
“You’re not hearing me,” he says, his voice going cold as he slowly pulls his arm out from under my touch. “You’d be gone, because I would have sent you packing.”
My mouth falls open. “What? Why?” I blurt out.
“Because I don’t need this kind of attention on me!” His voice is rising, his jaw growing tighter and tighter. When wesay nothing, he scoops up my hand and twists, showing me my fingertips. “There’s blood under your nails, Haven. Blood of the man you killed. And you—“ He drops my hand so quickly that it hits the counter before I can catch it.
I wince, cradling it in my lap as Bastian takes a step toward Kai.
“You witnessed your entire family being mowed down, and you did nothing.” Bastian holds up a finger. “Except, you did do something, didn’t you? You killed a witness. Your own mother.”
My skin prickles in the sudden hush that follows his words. Kai’s hand slides over my shoulder, squeezing me, but I’m not sure if he’s trying to comfort me, or reassure himself.
“Not like it was premeditated or some shit,” Kai says. “We didn’t exactly go in thereplanningto kill anyone. But then shit went down, and we?—“
“Didn’t have a choice?” Bastian’s dry chuckle cuts him off.
He turns away to fetch his coffee, then stands at the range where the eggs are going cold in the skillet, staring out one of the kitchen windows as he sips at his cup.
“My life was so fucking uncomplicated before I met you two.”
For a long moment, he just stands there, his back to us, his shoulders rigid.
When he turns, his expression makes my blood run cold.
“But you’re right,” he says quietly. “I’ve seen your demons. It’s time you met mine.”
He plates the eggs—three portions, perfectly divided—and brings them to the counter. Then he leans against the opposite counter, arms crossed, watching us with dark, fervent eyes, his mouth in a stern line.
My nausea has settled, and the smell is making my mouth water, but I don’t trust myself to eat. Not with that frenzied light playing in Bastian’s eyes.
