“Fine!” December screamed. “I’ll go! I’ll leave for now.”
“Forever,” Rabbit corrected. “Stay away and I promise not to mess with the one thing you care about. Your career. Those are the terms.”
“You’re my son. You’re saying you’ll never see me again?”
“Since when have you cared about me?” He quirked a brow. “You haven’t seen me in eleven months, mom, and the first thing you did was drag me violently out of bed. That isn’t love or caring or whatever else you’re going to try and convince me it is. That’s the deal. We go our separate ways, for good, and I don’t hand that video over to the media.”
December stared at him, hatred painted all over her expression.
Baikal moved over to the end table and picked up his multi-slate, tapping away at it as he returned to Rabbit’s side. It beeped and he hummed. “Kazimir and Flix are on their way now. They’ll be here in less than ten minutes. I have them purchasing a one-way ticket off planet as we speak.”
Rabbit hadn’t met that last person, but he recognized the name. Flix was another student he sometimes saw walking around campus with Baikal and his cousin.
“To Ignite,” December demanded.
Baikal looked to Rabbit who gave a single nod of his head.
His mom had a few colleagues there from her college days that she still visited now and again. Let her run to them for comfort.
She was going to need it.
“Stop,” he ordered when she went to take a step out of the room.
“I need to pack my things,” she huffed.
“No, you don’t. Everything you need is already in the travel bag you brought with you. It’s in the foyer, isn’t it? You always leave it there and expect someone else to bring it up to your room for you.”
“I’m a musician,” she snapped. “My arms are too important for me to risk pulling a muscle trying to haul that heavy thing up the stairs.”
“The flight has been booked,” Baikal announced.
“You’re going to regret this,” his mother said. “I’m all you have, Rabbit. You’re nothing without me.”
“That’s not true,” he told her. “I’m nothing with you. I’m just the son of December Trace, the abuser, and the murderer, and I don’t want to be that person anymore.”
He just wanted to be himself. He wanted to figure out what that even meant.
And he wanted to do it free.
“They’re here,” Baikal stated, letting them know that his friends had arrived. They must have been leaving campus or something, since it was so close to his house.
December held Rabbit’s gaze, and there may have been a small spark of sadness there before she masked it so he couldn’t be sure. “I really do just want what’s best for you.”
“No, mom,” he shook his head and made himself come to terms with the truth when he said, “And you never did.”
* * *
He didn’t go with them to the shuttleport, not sure he’d be able to fake it for that long. Instead, Rabbit stayed in his room, waiting for confirmation that his mother had boarded the spaceship and it had launched.
He was sitting on the end of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees. One spot on the ground where a single drop of Baikal’s blood had spilled and dried had held his attention for the past fifteen minutes or so. Later, he’d unpack why seeing the other man bleeding like that had sent him into such a spiraling rage, but right now he had other things to deal with.
The Brumal Prince had stayed with him, refusing to leave his side even when Rabbit had been uncertain of his friends. He’d reassured him though, and eventually, Rabbit had conceded to letting him stay.
Honestly, he was grateful.
He didn’t want to be alone right now.
Void had thrown on a pair of black boxer-briefs, but hadn’t bothered with any other clothing. He’d also taken back the blaster, which was resting on the dresser he was leaning against across from the bed. He stuck close, just in case, but had otherwise given Rabbit space.
