He doesn’t trust you…
The reminder along with the obvious proof of that fact gutted me, but I managed not to react. I still had a goal I needed to accomplish. Everything I did with Aleks going forward would be about baby steps.
To what end? What exactly are you trying to accomplish?
I ignored my inner voice and said, “Tell me about breakfast at home.”
Aleks’s eyes lowered to the menu and he seemed to remember where we were and why we were there. The distress came back quickly but didn’t seem as intense this time around.
“Magnus cooks when he isn’t working. If he is, Dante and I eat cereal. Neither of us can cook very good.”
“What does Magnus make?”
“Everything,” Aleks responded. “He’s good at cooking.”
“Is there one thing in particular that you look forward to when he’s cooking?”
Aleks nodded. “On Sundays… he makes grits. I don’t know what it is, but I like it. I always eat too much. It’s very hot, I don’t mean warm… he puts something green in it. A pepper, maybe?”
I smiled. “Jalapeño peppers?” I asked. “Small and green?”
Aleks nodded and smiled. “Yes, that’s it. He makes eggs and bacon too, but I eat so many grits I can’t eat anything else. When Dante and I are done eating, we do the dishes and then we just lay on the couch until we can move again.”
I chuckled at that, then reached for my menu. I scanned it and said, “Look here.” I handed him the menu and pointed to one of the items. “They don’t have jalapeños in them, but I bet they’re still good. And if not, we’ll get you something else.”
“Oh no, I will eat them no matter what,” Aleks said with a frown. Like wasting a little bit of food was the worst thing in the world.
To him, it probably was, since food had been such a commodity for him.
I didn’t respond and instead waved the waitress over. I was pleased when Aleks ordered for himself. When it was my turn, I grabbed the menu and began rattling one item off after another. Aleks’s eyes went comically wide as I ordered enough dishes to feed a dozen people. When the waitress left with a broad smile on her face, Aleks eyed me.
“What? I’m hungry,” I said.
He shook his head at me. Our feet were still touching beneath the table so I shifted my body until our knees were in contact. Aleks actually let out a little gasp before he caught himself.
In all seriousness, I murmured, “Some choices you have to live with. But others,” – I motioned to the table – “you’re allowed to change your mind on as many times as you want.” I waited until I was sure he’d heard me before I added, “And Aleks, as long as we’re together, take five minutes or five hours to choose – you’ve more than earned that right.” I brushed our knees together again, then pulled my leg back so I wouldn’t overwhelm him.
He was quiet for a long time… long enough that I thought I’d royally fucked up – that I’d somehow undermined him. But when the waitress passed us, he softly called out to her. If that move alone hadn’t been enough to shock me into silence, his next words did the trick.
“Excuse me, I saw that you have chocolate milk on your menu. May I please have a glass of that?” Aleks’s gaze shifted to me as he quietly added, “It’s my favorite.”
The waitress nodded and left, and I quickly turned my attention to scan the other patrons of the diner so I wouldn’t make the young man across from me uncomfortable. When the chocolate milk came, I couldn’t manage to keep my eyes averted as he drank down the contents of the small glass in a few large gulps. And when he hesitantly asked the waitress for another, I barely suppressed a smile.
It was a tiny step forward, but what a great fucking step.
Now how the hell did I make sure he had a million more just like them in the time we were together? And how the fuck was I going to keep him safe long enough to make sure all those steps turned into something more?
Chapter 6
Aleks
It was the most logical question on the planet.
Where are we going?
But I was afraid to ask it. And not only because my instinct was reminding me that asking questions was forbidden – but also because I didn’t want to know the answer.
It was the coward’s way out, to just remain silent. But it was what it was.
I was a coward. Always had been.
Even when I’d been little and long before I’d been taken, I’d hidden away from the scarier parts of life. For all the mean things my father had said to Dante, for all the names he’d called him, I’d never once spoken up for my brother. I’d tried to make up for it by showing Dante that Papa was wrong in other ways, but I’d never stood in front of my father and told him not to talk to Dante that way. On the rare occasions Papa had yelled or Mama had been disappointed in me, I’d let Dante comfort me and tell me everything was going to be okay. If the shadows on my ceiling took on the form of monsters or I heard a noise in the darkened house in the middle of the night or one of the boys in my class called me a name because I was too small or my family didn’t have enough money, I’d always gone to Dante. No matter what he’d been doing, he’d either made room for me in his bed or he’d taken me by the hand to check all the corners and closets in the apartment or warned my tormenters to leave me alone.