He’d had a bad feeling and had reached out to his contacts in the local news and had gotten their assurances they wouldn’t publish anything about the incident if December reached out to them. It’d been less than an hour later that he’d received a message letting him know that she had in fact tried.
Her only child had been attacked, and the only thing that woman cared about was using his ill fortune to boost her career.
The Brumal may be made up of criminals, but even criminals understood the importance of loyalty. And if they didn’t? Then they ended up like Kor.
With their head severed from their body.
“He needs my help with something,” Baikal ended up replying finally. At least Rabbit had figured that part out on his own and finally admitted what was going on with his home life. Maybe it was because Baikal had opened up first by telling him about his dad’s impending death. Maybe not. He wasn’t about to ask and shake the already rocky boat.
There was no way in hell he was ever going to let Rabbit slip through his fingers, but that didn’t mean he didn’t eventually want to be wanted back. And not just physically.
“It’s a long game,” he confessed. “Winning someone over who has demons takes time.”
“No one better than a devil to get the job done.” Sullivan smiled, the expression tinged in sadness. “Just remember, son, people can be forced to do just about anything except for love. You can make him need you, but not even you can make him love you.”
“Watch me.” Baikal always got what he wanted.
This was going to be no different.
Chapter 26:
Rabbit got home early, unable to concentrate at school. Baikal had sent him a text letting him know that he had somewhere to be, and then a few hours later there’d been talk about a fight whispered all over campus.
He’d tried not to eavesdrop and ignore it, but the continuous glances had finally escalated by four pm, with students walking up to him to ask him about it.
They’d wanted to know if Baikal was all right, and instead of feeling annoyed that they were distracting him from his practice hours?
Rabbit had been upset that he didn’t have an accurate answer.
There’d only been one article about it online, but even that had been removed—and while he’d been in the middle of reading it. All he’d managed to gather was there’d been a hit on a known Brumal house and there were reported casualties. It didn’t say who the place belonged to or list any names of those who’d been harmed or killed.
So he’d caved and packed his stuff and headed home, even going so far as to send a message to Void asking where he was.
The bastard hadn’t responded.
He was planning on making himself concentrate on practice, not wanting to waste energy caring for someone like Baikal, but when he’d stormed down the hallway leading to the practice studio in his house, he’d come to a standstill at the open entrance.
The room was spacious, with a tall, dome-shaped ceiling. It was made of cream-colored sand wood, a solid, insulating type of material that helped keep the sounds of music from trickling to other parts of the house and disrupting anyone else. There was a single window that opened up onto the backyard, though with just the porchlight there to illuminate the grounds only a small patch of grass was visible amidst the otherwise darkness of the evening.
Since his mother hadn’t used this room in over a year, Rabbit had taken to make it more of his own in a poor attempt to wash away the bad memories here. He’d dried out all of the Rose Ephemeral he’d received and strung them around the wainscoting, so they hung just above waist level. They added a splash of color to the otherwise clinically white space.
Baikal, dressed in all black, stood out even more.
He was checking the flowers, gently caressing the full bloom of one the same shade as Rabbit’s hair.
Those flowers were pretty much the only possession Rabbit owned that he felt an attachment to, and he’d already taken a single step inside, intent on telling him to be careful when he paused all over again.
He’d been wondering all this time who his secret admirer was…
The flowers had started coming a year ago.
Hadn’t Void confessed that’s how long he’d been watching him?
The Rose Ephemeral wasn’t cheap, but to someone like Baikal, someone who made money in his sleep thanks to his company, they’d cost less than a drop in a bucket.
“Pretty,” Void murmured to himself then, breaking whatever spell Rabbit had momentarily been under.
He could ask about the flowers later, right now…
