“Yes.”
“Is that why the parties started?”
“Yes…”
“Because I was easier to control that way?”
“Not just you…”
“Did you feel something when I kissed you?”
“Jonathan,” I teem, a warning croak before I fucking explode and strangle him to death.
He pouts. “Last one, I promise…”
“You look demented when you make that face,” I deadpan, and he grins, arching his studded brow. I sigh, exaggerated for effect. “Yea, I guess.”
He straightens and booms, “Boo-yah!Uh!Suck it!”
Andnow he’s dancing.Lovely.
“Ooh, fuck yea, I call that awin, Daddy!” He cheers for himself, doing a circle around the room, high-fiving everyone like he just got called up to playThe Price Is Right, while they all laugh and applaud like fucking morons.
And I’m just standing here, forcing away the part of me that wants to grin, because it’s cute, and Idofeel slightly better having admitted this to him.
But I’ll murder anyone who asks me about it.
Angel is giggling. When his eyes meet mine, I wink and he bites his lip.
I’m doing this for you, pajarito.
I hope this just goes to show how much I’m willing to endure for him. Because while everything I’ve said is true, I know that those feelings for my protégé were a light drizzle in comparison to the category five hurricane that is my love for Angel Alvarez.
Jonathan finally calms down, and I give him a look, one that not long ago would have snapped him into submission. But now, he just blinks at me, grin smoothing out in some appreciation that I’m not sure I fully understand.
By all accounts, he should still hate me. I was purely awful to him over the years, because beating him like a disobedient dog was how I dealt with my feelings, and there are just…somany more acceptable options for doing that.
Unless… he liked it too?
I think I know the answer, but this isn’t about me getting closure.This is for him.
“You know, I remember things,” Jonathan breathes. My head cocks. “I have so many stories, from times when you were normal. When we’d sit around your office, or walk through the garden and just talk. If these people knew that side of you, it’d probably be easier for them to forgive you…”
“Well, you were my first, Jonathan,” I tell him deliberately. “You were the start, and if there’s one thing I can say in my defense…” I glance at the rest of them. “It was never supposed to come to this…”
I clear my throat. “So, in that spirit… Who else has grievances?” I clap, rubbing my hands together in preparationfor what will undoubtedly be a long and grueling process. “Let’s do this. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
They all look around at one another, as if they didn’t expect to get a turn. Some commotion outside distracts us, and all heads turn when Alexander Reznikov comes trudging through the doorway.
“Oh, wonderful,” I mumble. “Perfect timing… Kellan and Dascha, I think this is a sign. You’re up.”
Kemper doesn’t appear as angry as he was a moment ago. Now, he’s more focused on rubbing his partner’s back, clinging to him in a way that tells me our darling bank robber might not be feeling too well.
“Dascha,” Alexander breathes ragged, stalking over to his son. “Are you alright?”
Dash’s lips part, eyes wide, yet tired. He looks like he’s been through the wringer, and I feel bad.
I actually do! How about that…
