Given that Jules is right there, Lachlan pulls himself together, but the boy seems to sense it anyway, moving closer.
‘How bad was it?’Jules asks Lachlan, gentle hands running over his body as if he can assess it himself should Lachlan decline to answer.Gentle fingers travel over and around the injuries, mapping them all.Lachlan is covered in cuts, gouges, electrical burns and bone bruises.Jules seems determined to learn each and every one.
‘Your skin is burning hot,’ he whispers thickly.
‘Prolonged exposure,’ Lachlan tells him tonelessly.
Jules says, ‘This is really bad.’
‘Not that bad.’
‘Don’t say that.You’re beat to shit.You’re cut up andburnedand bruised so bad even I know it’s from broken bones, and I haven’t got a scratch on me.’
‘That doesn’t mean you’re not—’
‘He died protecting her and I was just standing there like a fucking coward, not even moving.I didn’t know what to do so I didnothing.’ Jules’ voice cracks.‘I was so mean to Roman, and he… he was brave and good, and I didn’t help!’
Lachlan pulls Jules into his arms again, kisses his hair.
‘It wasn’t your job to keep him safe.’
‘It wasn’t yours either,’ Jules croaks.‘You did your best, Iknowit.’
Lachlan will never believe that.
Roman Sorrenko deserved so much better, and even though his blood washed away from Lachlan’s skin, it’ll never truly leave.Lachlan will carry the mark of it all his life, a deep scar in the tissue of his heart carved by the failure of his own choices.Killing Mikhail Sorrenko didnothing.
It’s just more death.
?
Lachlan’s hair is still wet from the showers when he sees Blaire.
They meet in a fierce, heartbroken hug.
She feels as much like home to Lachlan as Mimi or Jules do.
The imprint of her necklace against his chest, the smell of her hair.
Blaire doesn’t need to ask what happened when she studies him, hand atop his heart.She knows already and that knowledge immediately halves the weight of what’s behind his ribs and takes it the way only a sister can.
When he feels able to pull away, he asks her, ‘How were things here?’Lachlan suddenly can’t remember how overdue he is.A week?Two?No.
He was one day overdue only.
They held him for three days.
No more.Christ.
‘All fine,’ she tells him as they walk into the kitchens.Jules, who went ahead, is talking to Danya while he eats soup, gaze fixed on Lachlan.It’s late but skeleton crews operate all over the Estate.‘Although Priscilla has been somewhat throwing her weight around,’ Blaire adds under her breath.
Lachlan doesn’t care about that for now.‘How did Danny find us?’
‘He contacted your friend,’ she explains, pushing a bowl of soup towards him as they take a seat at the table.‘Joanne?’
‘Jolene,’ Lachlan corrects thoughtlessly.‘How did he—?’
‘I’ll tell you later,’ Danya cuts over gently, giving Lachlan a spoon, nodding down at the bowl.‘My recipe.Very good.’
