Page 274 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

Fresh marks score the snow across the balustrade.

‘Fucker,’ Lachlan mutters.

He climbs onto the ledge and uses the stonework to pull himself up to the flat roof above. The snow penetrates his clothes almost immediately.

Jules sits near the parapet, wrapped in a thick quilt and surrounded by untouched snow. His face is tipped towards the moon, almost full above them. He must hear Lachlan approaching, but he doesn’t look over.

Lachlan stops several feet away.

‘What are you doing out here?’

‘Go away.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Believe me, you can. You do it all the time.’

‘We need to talk.’

‘I don’t want to hear it.’

‘You don’t know what I’m going to say.’

‘I can guess.’ Jules keeps his eyes on the moon. ‘You and Danya are together now.’

The words land with strange force, despite Lachlan knowing they were coming. He could end it here with two words.

We’re not.

You’re wrong.

Jules would look at him again.

Maybe not forgive him, maybe never, but it would be something at least.

But Lachlan holds Penhalyx’s demand in front of his heart.

My son requires a dose of reality.

‘Jules,’ he begins.

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘Julian,’ he tries again, well aware that this is already off to a spectacularly bad start. ‘I’m still your bodyguard.’

‘How fortunate for me.’

‘I know I’ve hurt you and betrayed you.’

‘Are you really about to say but?’

‘But I still have a duty of care towards you, and that’s never going to change. You’re the most incredible—’

‘You don’t need to let me down gently,’ Jules interrupts, glacially calm. ‘I know you think I’m some psycho brat intent on ruining your life with tantrums, but I do actually love you, Lachlan.’

The name almost undoes him.

Not Tanner.