“It wasn’t safe.”
His face falls. His scalding anger disintegrates until all that’sleft is disappointment. Tumultuous rapids separate us, the bridge hanging in tatters. I’m foolish enough to make the jump.
“I have proof.”
“I’m not doing this with you right now,” he scoffs, storming down the hall to his old room.
Shit. I meant to warn him?—
“Wait!”
“I’m done waiting for you, Sebastian,” he hisses.
I’m incapacitated, my wounded heart exposed, weeping crimson as he reaches for the brass knob.
The room is a time capsule: Clothes, paintings and sketchbooks clutter the floor, the walls, the desk in an array of blue and black fragmented chaos. His trauma spelled out in ink.
The duffel falls off his shoulder. His eyes go vacant.
I rush to him, ignoring the throbbing in my chest.
“Stay with me, baby,” I murmur in his ear, then yell, “DECLAN!”
This is the exact opposite of how I wanted his first day home to go. I let my selfish fantasies get the best of me.
Cade’s quiet voice startles me. “I’m splitting.”
“What’s that, darlin’?”
He’s unblinking, staring into the void.
“Fuck,” I curse. Footsteps thunder up the stairs. My stepfather reaches us seconds later. He doesn’t even look at me as he assesses his son.
“I tried?—”
“It’s alright, Seba, just give him a second,” he interrupts.
Mom crests the landing. “Did he skip his meds?”
I see fuckingred.
“This isyourfault,” I seethe, rounding on her. “I told you to clear this out months ago and you didn’t fuckinglisten.”
“You said he was taking your room!” She protests.
“He is, but either way, this shit was supposed to go in storage!”
“It shouldn’t matterif he’s better!”
“That’s not how this works! That’s not how any of this works!”
“Enough,” Declan hisses.
I clamp my mouth shut.
Mom crosses her arms over her chest, muttering, “It’s not my fault.”
It takes everything in me not to knock her lights out, but my stepfather is right. Inhaling deep, I turn back to Cade, running my fingers up and down his spine. After what feels like an eternity, he blinks and I release the breath I’m holding.
