"I'm going to fail her," I said finally. "Like I failed my mom."
Silence. Then Malakai moved to sit next to me, his voice quiet but firm.
"That's not the same thing, and you know it."
"Isn't it?" I turned to face him. "I made promises I couldn't keep. Told her I'd take care of her, that everything would be okay. Damn it, I was doing time when she died alone. What'll happen when Nadia needs me and I'm not enough?"
"You can't protect her from everything," said Tyler. "You pull that crap, and you'll smother what you're trying to save."
"I'm not trying to smother her?—"
"Not yet. But you're heading that way." Tyler's expression was serious. "Look, I get it. You want to keep her safe. But Daemon, she's a grown woman who ran military logistics. She can handle herself."
"Those Elevate assholes are trying to destroy everything she's built."
A snort from Malakai had me turning, ready to counter whatever argument he was about to throw at me. "Yeah, they're trying to do a number on her, but she's fighting back. Sure, you're helping, but she's leading the charge."
Malakai crossed his arms, expression closed. "The question is, are you helping her win, or dealing with everything because you're scared?"
The words hit harder than I expected.
"I almost lost Amelia," Malakai continued. "I was so busy trying to keep her safe that I forgot to trust her. Forgot she's capable and doesn't need me to fight all her battles."
"But what if something goes wrong?"
"Then you deal with it together." Tyler's voice was matter-of-fact. "That's what partners do. They don't protect each other from life. They face it as a team."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to explain that my situation was different.
"It is different," said Cole from across the veranda, seemingly out of nowhere.
He hadn't moved from his chair, hadn't raised his voice, hadn't looked up from his beer until now. The others went quiet. Cole didn't speak often, but when he did, rooms listened.
"Your situation is unique because you already did what you're afraid you'll do to her. Let someone down when it counted. You know what it cost. These two," he nodded toward Tyler and Malakai, "are telling you not to be afraid. I'm telling you something different. I'm telling you that you already know how bad it gets when you fail someone, and you rebuilt yourself anyway. That's not nothing."
He took a pull of his beer. "The question isn't whether you're capable of failing her. You are. We all are. The question is whether you're the man who gets back up when he does."
He looked at me directly then. "When I first met you, you were the angriest person I'd ever met. You had every reason to stay that way." Another mouthful of beer. "You didn't."
"So, what do I do?"
"You talk to her," said Malakai. "Tell her how you're feeling. Stop pretending you've got it all handled when you're obviously drowning."
"That's not?—"
"Yeah, it is." Tyler's tone left no room for argument. "And if you don't deal with it now, it'll blow up in your face. Probably sooner rather than later."
As I concentrated on peeling the label from my beer, their words circled in my head. The logical part of me knew they were right. The terrified part was already building walls, preparing for when I inevitably let Nadia down.
Saturday afternoon arrived all too soon. The Romano christening was being held at Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church, a beautiful old building with stained glass windows that had my criminal record weighing even heavier.
I'd been to exactly two churches in my adult life.
Both times were for funerals, and neither of them was my Mom’s. When I should have been crying over her coffin, I was beating the hell out of a big mother who wanted to be top dog in the exercise yard.
The only plus about this afternoon's event was that it was being held in the hall next door and not in the church itself.
Despite this, walking through the doors of the hall with Nadia felt like announcing to God and everyone else that I had no business being there.
