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“Whatever you want,” he mumbled, and finally did grace me with his face. With all that hair down, I wasn’t making out much, but my friend didn’t look right. He looked worse, which was saying something. As far as I knew, he was still able to sleep. At least a little.
There was so much vacancy behind his eyes today, and when he caught me looking, he brought his head down again. He picked up a paint can, and I started to say something, but the can in his hands went flying.
It hit the canvas.
If the piece looked like it’d been bleeding before, it was gushing now, a thick and violent ooze from the paint in the can.
A gore of red and black.
Wolf said no words about it, simply standing before it. He braced his arms. “My dad talk to you?”
He always asked that question. Every day his dad asked me a question, I got one from his son too. I buried my hands in my pockets. “Yeah.”
And that answered another question, one he wondered too. Had Sloane reached out to me, but one better…
Had she mentioned him.
He knew the answer before he even asked the question. If I had heard from Sloane, there wouldn’t be a wonder. He’d know.
But that didn’t stop him from asking.
Wolf left my side, continuing to clean up, and I followed his steps. “Buddy—”
“I’m thinking about going out on my own,” he said, my brow jumping, but his expression remained unchanged. He was completely serious, a sigh in his voice when he scrubbed his hair. “Just doing my own thing for a while, and maybe hitting up some places she might go.”
“Places like where?”
“I don’t know, D. I just…” he started, his fingers working. “My parents are treating me like I’m a fucking mental patient, and I’m becoming one the longer I’m here and not doing anything. I’m losing my fucking shit, so yeah, I have to go do something. She’s out there, and we’re twins you know so maybe it will,” he paused, lacing his hands above his head. “Maybe it will come to me. Where she is, I mean. Twins are supposed have like a link, right?”
Yeah, but as far as I knew, not supernaturally.
I wasn’t giving my buddy what he wanted to hear because he threw his hands up at me, leaving. Crossing the garage, I got his arm. “I just don’t think you should go out on your own.” He’d done that before, done that so many times, and it wasn’t good. “Maybe we just need to listen to our parents. If they keep having to worry about us, they’re not able to do what they need to do.”
I was aware my father’s words were coming out of my mouth, and though I didn’t completely feel that way, the last thing I needed was my friend, my grieving fucking friend, to be going out and chasing a thought he had about a twin link. He needed to be here.
He needed us.
We all needed each other right now, and it was all I had to keep my own shit together every day, to be there for him, his parents, and everyone else when I felt like fucking breaking.
My jaw clenched. “Buddy, listen to me when I say you need to be here with us.” I let go of him. “And say you do go out. You do that and she comes back, and we don’t know where the fuck you are.” I lifted a hand. “How do you think that would make Ramses and Brielle feel?”
“I didn’t ask for your permission, Dorian,” he said, his voice even, but his eyes cut. “And I’m only telling you because I’ll need your help to cover for me.”
Of course, he was. I’d always covered for him in the past, and it was stupid then like it would be now.
We all enabled each other. Wells and Thatcher lying for me when I’d gone after my grandfather. All of us lying together to keep shit from our parents. I shook my head. “I’m saying just give it a chance. Let our parents handle this.”
“But they aren’t, Dorian.” He cringed. “They haven’t found her, and I can’t just not do anything.”
I knew the feeling. I understood, but I also knew what not listening to our folks had done in the past. We’d all fucked up.
“I’m going to handle my business,” he said. “She’s my sister, and I’m going to find her.”
But he wouldn’t find her. He hadn’t in the past.
And he wouldn’t now.
All him doing what he wanted to do would cause more chaos, and I literally couldn’t handle another fucking thing. It would drive me over the edge.
