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And from the look of devastation on Loki’s face . . . so had he.
“What are you saying?” he replied. “Of course it is. This is just as much my house as yours.”
“But I’m not allowed to have friends here?”
Loki turned her to face him, cupping her face. “Tink, you can do whatever you want to. Paint the whole house pink, put up Christmas lights all year round, and have whoever you want here.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course. You know everything I have is yours too.” Loki stared over at him. But this time he wasn’t angry so much as thoughtful and . . . sad?
Remy didn’t know him well enough to be sure.
“Then Remy can stay. Right?” she asked.
“Of course he can.” Loki even managed a smile. Of a sort.
“Thanks.” She leaned into him.
“Anything for you, Tink. I just didn’t realize that the two of you were friends.”
“Things have changed,” Remy said.
“Yeah, I can see that. You need to go to bed, Tink. You’re exhausted. Remy can stay out here.” Loki gave him a firm look before he gathered Isa up against his chest and walked away to her bedroom.
She shot him an apologetic smile over Loki’s shoulder before the door shut behind them.
It didn’t open again.
Yeah. He’d known Loki could be a problem.
Now he knew that he was going to be a big problem.
15
“What are you doing, Loki?” Isa asked.
Her voice wrapped around his frayed nerves, soothing him. Loki’s brain didn’t always work the way it should. It was different than it had been.
Before his friends and squad were all murdered.
Before he’d changed and returned home with a raft of fucking problems.
He was sick of this . . . of being this way.
When he’d first gotten home, he’d been kind of numb. Detached. Drinking too much, then getting into fights. Anything to feel. Yeah, and maybe he’d been self-destructive too.
He wouldn’t go as far as to say he’d wanted things to end for him. But perhaps it had been there in the back of his mind.
Big chunks of time were missing from his memory. Weeks where he couldn’t remember what he’d done or said.
It was only because he had Isa and his amazing friends that he’d really been able to come out of those days to the other side.
Some people might argue that he still wasn’t dealing well with what happened.
He’d tell those people to fuck the hell off.
He was doing the best he could. When things got too hard, he’d go camping in the woods. Where it was peaceful. His friends had taken him away for three months. They’d let him work through his emotions.
