Page 277 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

Jules looks out across the Estate, jaw working hard, breathing fast. He’s trying not to cry. Fairy lights around the grounds glow from beneath the fallen snow, little golden stars against the black.

‘None of that is true.’

‘I trusted him,’ Jules says.

Lachlan looks away. ‘Don’t blame him.’

‘I trusted Danya because you did. You brought him into our home. You made him part of everything.’

‘It was my fault.’

‘Do you have any idea how fucking humiliating it is to have to see you two every single day? How painful it is?’

Lachlan has no answer.

Jules drags the quilt back around himself with shaking hands.

‘No, of course you don’t. You just shut down, shut it off, heart of stone.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m so… so fucking sorry.’

‘I know you’re sorry!’ Jules snaps, voice finally breaking. ‘I know you feel terrible. I know you’ve probably been walking around making yourself sick over it because you have to turn everything into some fucking punishment for yourself, but that doesn’t help me!’

‘What will?’

‘NOTHING! Nothing can help, just like nothing will help you get over Roman, and nothing will ever come of your stupid fucking plans because you’re blind to everything! You forget, and you look away and you lie to everyone who loves you because you’re so fucking stupid, Lachlan!’ Jules all but screams, standing so suddenly that Lachlan moves forward to catch him should he tip sideways off the edge. ‘Don’t try to help me! I’d rather fall and die on my own than live by the grace of your good intentions, you heartless piece of shit!’

‘Jules, just come away from the edge.’

‘You really think you can keep us safe when you don’t even remember that I know I’m a Brightling? You haven’t talked to me about it, do you realise that? No, you don’t because you’re fucked up!’

‘I am. You’re right, I am.’

‘You are so fucking fucked up, so yeah, I’ll forgive Danya for sleeping with the man I love because at least he can keep us safe! At least he’s not falling apart and forgetting everything and breaking my fucking heart when it was your job to protect it!’

Jules falls silent, breathless and horrified by the sound of his own grief. The anger goes out of him all at once. His face crumples, chin knotting as he tries to swallow whatever comes next, but a small, broken sound escapes anyway. He turns away fast and presses a fist to his mouth, shoulders drawing in as though he can contain the hurt by making himself smaller.

He looks down.

Lachlan goes still.

‘Baby.’

‘You have no right to say that to me.’

‘Julian, get the fuck back.’

‘You couldn’t stop me.’

‘I’d follow you down.’

‘Then you’re a failure of a man, as well as a bodyguard!’

Lachlan’s breath catches around the pain like lungs around a bullet.

‘You understand that, don’t you?’ Jules asks, looking at him. Tears shine now, balanced along his lower lashes, but his voice remains level and cold. ‘You understand failure because men like you fear it. Your ego can’t take the threat of living with failure. Your fucking pride won’t allow it.’

‘I have nothing to be proud of, believe me, I know that.’