“Yeah?” he said.
Things opened as he was back at the mirror in the bathroom, and his father walked in, dressed for war. All of Murhder’s weapons were on his body, his black daggers strapped, handles down, on his chest, a holster of guns on his hips, a knife on one thigh. His red-and-black hair was hidden under a skullcap, and was that . . . yes, a Kevlar vest.
Nate swallowed. “What’s happening. What’s wrong?”
“I’m leaving for the night.” There was a pause. “Look, I know things have been . . . weird between us. And I just didn’t want to go before I told you that I love you. Nate, I couldn’t love you more than if you were from my own blood. You’re a good kid, and you’re going to be a great male, and—”
“Dad?” Nate said in a small voice. “What’s going on. Why are you wearing that vest?”
“It’s just another night in the field.”
No, it wasn’t, but it was clear he was going to get no information on the why’s.
As he grappled with a sudden terror, Murhder kept talking. “I don’t even know what exactly went wrong for you here. I mean, you were happy, for a time. I’m not sure what changed, but whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. There are all kinds of resources for you, and if it really comes down to it . . . we don’t want you to leave, but we just—well, I said it before. We love you as our son, no qualifiers. And I couldn’t leave without telling you that. Some nights, you just better say your piece because you don’t know how things are going to go.”
Nate’s brain bubbled with so many kinds of super-scaries, he literally lost his voice.
And in the silence, after a moment, Murhder nodded and turned away.
“Wait, Dad.”
Nate launched himself out of his bathroom and grabbed on to the Brother just as Murhder pivoted back around. “I love you, too, Dad. I love you.”
Murhder made a choked sound, and then those huge arms were holding Nate. “I’m glad, son. That makes . . . it makes all the difference for me.”
Nate stepped back. “Are you going to die tonight?”
Murhder shook his head. “Not if I have anything to say about it. And no, I can’t talk about it. But you and your mom are safe here—”
“WhataboutLuchasHouse?” Nate asked in a rush.
“The—oh, yeah, no, you should be fine out there. But you know, this does make me think. Do you want to have some training—”
“Yes.” He thought of Elyn. “I want to learn how to fight.”
Murhder got very, very still.
“What?” Nate said. “Do you not think . . . don’t you think I can?”
“I think you’ll be good at it. I just didn’t want this life for you, son. I’m not going to stop you, though. I’ll talk to the brothers and set something up.”
“Okay. Thank you. Is Mom home tonight?”
“She’ll be at the training center. Are you—”
“I’m going to Luchas House.”
“You be careful out there. Call me if you need me. No matter what’s going down, I will always answer, I will always come find you.”
After a long moment, Murhder nodded and left the bedroom, heading for the carpeted stairs that led up to the kitchen.
Some nights, you just better say your piece.
“I met someone,” Nate blurted.
As he heard his own voice, he was surprised he’d spoken up. But it was something he wanted his father to know, especially if he didn’t get the chance to say it to the male again.
His dad slowly turned around, and the expression on his face would have been funny. On another night. About another thing.
He looked like somebody had just told him that the Tooth Fairy was real: Wonder.
“You have?” Murhder said.
“Yeah, and I think I really like her, Dad.”
No, cereal’s fine. Really.”
As Mae sat at the table in her kitchen, her bowl filled with store-brand Cheerios, the skim milk somehow passing the nose test even though it was one day after its expiration date, she was trying to hold it together. And no, not because she was about to go into a crying jag or something.
She was choking on questions she had no business asking. Mainly, like, why had Sahvage drawn that line? Two consenting adults and all that.
Except there was only one consenting adult, evidently.
As Sahvage sat down across from her with some toast and a cup of coffee, she tried to smile in a casual, no-problems-over-here kind of way. The fact that she hadn’t had any eggs or bacon to offer him, and that it had been a miracle there had been enough coffee for them both to have some, was a commentary on how badly the last few weeks had been going for her.
And everything they hadn’t done in bed was just the shit cherry on top of it all.