Page 36 of Antonio Miles

When I came out of the bathroom, Antonio was sitting on the edge of the bed with two mugs on the nightstand. “I made you chamomile tea,” he said. “I don’t actually know how you take it.”

I looked at the mugs -- the bags were still in both of them. He’d clearly boiled the water, dunked the bags, and had no idea what happened after that. In any other situation, under any other circumstance, I’d have smiled. Maybe I would later.

“Thank you,” I said, and sat across from him in the chair instead of next to him on the bed, because I needed the distance and didn’t know how to ask for it any other way. I honestly didn’t think I wanted to be near him simply because I realized how big a pussy I really was. The woman of Antonio Miles couldn’t be a pussy.

He watched me pulling away from him and I could tell he didn’t like it but didn’t know exactly how to fix the situation. I didn’t either. He rubbed a hand along his jaw, the same gesture he made when he was building a list in his head and needed somewhere to put his hands while he did it. “I can have food up here in ten minutes. Anything you want. Or Pain can look you over, make sure you’re not hurt anywhere you’re not telling me about.”

“I’m not hurt, Tonio.”

“I know. I’m just saying the option’s there.” He kept going, like if he found the right combination of things to offer, one of them would land. “Knight wants a debrief eventually, but that can wait until tomorrow, or the day after, whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush on that.”

“There really is, and we both know it.” The words came out soft and nearly broken, but I knew I had to hold it together. If I lost it, Tonio would never respect me again.

“Or if you want to talk about tonight, I’m here. If you don’t, I understand that too. I just don’t want you sitting up here thinking you have to be alone with it.” He scrubbed the back of his neck, like he was supremely uncomfortable. “I need to help you, Tessa. With every fiber of my being.”

I understood what he was doing. He needed a task as much as I needed to get my shit together. He needed a next step, because that was how Antonio Miles operated in the world, identifying the problem and solving it before it had the chance to fester.

I didn’t want a next step just yet. I wanted to sit in the chair and not have anyone look at me like I might come apart at any second, but I didn’t know how to tell him that without it sounding like I was pushing him away. Some small, tired part of me still cared what that would look like to him. The fact was, I really cared about Tonio. Might even be growing to love him. Him seeing me at my worst somehow felt more personal than it had the night we’d met when he’d pulled me out of hell.

“I don’t know what I want,” I said instead, which was only half true. “Maybe… to sit for a minute.”

“OK.” He nodded, slow. “We can just sit.” I hated he was so careful of me now though I recognized I needed the care. He didn’t move to touch me. Instead, he stayed where he was on the edge of the bed, mug of tea neither of us was going to drink cooling on the nightstand between us.

I looked at my hands. Still steady. I hated that they were steady, and I hated that I couldn’t say why, and most of all I hated that I couldn’t make myself explain any of it to the one person in the room who wanted so badly to fix it. Instead, neither of us said anything for a long time.

“I’m going to get you something to eat, honey,” he said, standing. “You don’t have to eat it, but I want it here in case you do.”

“Thank you, Tonio,” I said. “I’m sorry. But I want you to know I appreciate you taking care of me.”

I didn’t have anything else to give him yet, and I think he understood that too, because he didn’t wait for me to say anything else. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Just… let me look after you when I come back? Please?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but he did kneel in front of me for a long time, searching my face for what he didn’t understand. Finally, he leaned in and gave me a tender, loving kiss on the lips that nearly had me breaking down in front of him. He paused at the door, looking back at me once. Then he left.

At least, that’s what I thought at first, then I heard him talking just outside the door in a hushed tone. He hadn’t closed the door all the way, and I could hear his side of the conversation so I assumed he was on a phone call.

“…yeah. No, she’s fine, physically.” A pause. “First one’s always the hardest. I will never put her in the situation for there to be a second.” He sounded hurt, almost like the wounded animal I felt like. Another pause, longer this time, and when he spoke again his voice had gone rougher at the edges, less careful than it had been with me. “I don’t know what she needs right now. I only know it isn’t me.” A short silence. “Yeah. Whatever you’ve got. Quick as you can.”

The quiet that followed felt different. Without Tonio it was much, much worse. I stood and crossed to the window, because somehow staying in the chair made the room feel like it was folding in around me. I looked out at the dark tree line and the single security light at the edge of the helipad, blinking steadily against the darkness of the night sky.

I thought about the young man I’d killed. Or, more accurately, his wedding band. I’d widowed someone somewhere. Had I orphaned someone too? I made myself stop thinking about it and counted the blinks of the light at the helipad. At least, I tried to.

It took maybe five minutes before I heard a soft knock. I knew the visitor would be my sister. Frankly, I was surprised she’d lasted this long. The door open, though I didn’t turn around. Heard Antonio’s voice, low, only a handful of words, pitched too quiet for me to catch. Whatever he said, it wasn’t long. There was a pause, and I imagined Veda looking at him like he’d kicked a puppy. That was my sister. As fierce as she was, though, I didn’t know if even she could help me see the good I’d done.

“Hey,” Veda said.

I turned to look at her over my shoulder, giving her as convincing a smile as I could.

She stood just inside the door in sweatpants and one of Griffin’s old shirts, hair still damp, like she’d come straight from the shower and had barely stopped long enough to throw on something decent before she came to my rescue again. She didn’t ask if I was OK. Instead, she crossed the room, dropped down onto the floor with her back against the frame of the bed, and patted the space beside her without looking up, like she already knew I’d come. Which I did and sat next to her.

Neither of us said anything for a while. The floor was hard through my sweatpants, and the frame of the bed dug into my spine, but I didn’t move, and neither did she.

“You know, the first time I killed was up close and personal,” Veda said finally, staring straight down at her own hands much like I had. “I trembled like a fucking leaf but, even though I thought so at the time, it wasn’t because I’d killed someone. It was that I might not have killed that fucker and Griffin might have been hurt. Or worse.” She shook her head. “Every time I think about that kill, all I can think about is what might have happened if I hadn’t been there.”

“I don’t feel like myself,” I admitted in a reluctant whisper.

“Like someone else crawled inside your skin and took over?”

I whipped my head in her direction to make sure she wasn’t fucking with me. “That’s exactly it,” I said. My voice came out almost a squeak, I was so shocked. “I didn’t expect you to feel like that, Veda. You’ve always been so… I don’t know… put together. Nothing ever bothers you.”

“Oh, Tessa. That’s where you’re wrong. You and Griffin have the power to bring me to my knees. The thought of something happening to either of you puts me into a panic I have trouble not spiraling into, and it’s all because of that kill. Because, like I said, what if Griffin had gotten killed?”