One word. One name. Enough explanation on its own to have his blood pressure rising and his face doing that thing that only happens when he’s trying not to explode in a rage. His eyes squeeze shut, and his nose scrunches while he fights it. “How?”
“One of his men got the jump on me last year. I usually picked them off from a distance, but I didn’t see him patrolling the woods until it was too late.”
Rather than boil over beside her, he bolts off the bed, paces the length of the room, and shoves his hand through the far wall. Plaster crumbles under his effort before he can put conscious thought to the action. A litany of curses drip out as fast as the blood from busted knuckles, but at least the pain is familiar.
“I’m gonna kill him,” he growls, sliding down the wall until his ass hits the floor. “Blow his fucking head off.” He has dreamed of all the ways he would murder that bastard when he finally got the chance, and now that he knows Kara has suffered at Silas’s hand too, his bloodlust only grows.
“I know. I’ll help you.”
She doesn’t tell him to let it go. That Silas isn’t worth it. That the only way forward is to put this behind him. Maybe because she clearly has no intention of putting any of this behind her yet, either.
None of the expected responses are offered, and he’s never been more grateful for anything unless he counts the fact that she rescued him herself.
Letting this go isn’t an option. Silas has done more than ruin years of his life and steal his memory. He’s takenalmosteverything Wade has left. Almost. Then he tried to take Kara. He won’t wait around for her to end up in danger again. The desire to kill him isn’t new, but it’s lain dormant for a while in favor of focusing on survival. Now, it flares to life again, bright as ever and with renewed motivation.
“We have to be smart about this,” she says. “We need a plan. We can get him, but not now and not yet.”
He nods because what else can he do? He’s in no shape to go after anyone. Can barely leave the bedroom, let alone hunt down the enemy who left him unable to function. “Don’t want you a part of this. You’ll only get hurt because of me. That’s what he does. Takes everything.”
“I’m already in this, Wade. I’ve been in it since you disappeared. It’s too late to walk away now. We do it together. When we’re ready.”
It’s both a request and a firm statement that leaves no room for negotiation. If he tried to go alone, she’d only follow, anyway.
Not for the first time, he wonders what he did to deserve her unwavering loyalty and comes up empty as always. He doesn’t deserve her, plain and simple. He never has.
“Alright. Together,” he agrees. “It’s a stupid fucking plan though.”
He spies the barest hint of a smirk on her face through his curtain of hair.
“Don’t have a plan yet, but rest assured that when we do, it’ll probably still be stupid.”
He thunks his head back against the wall, cradling his self-inflicted hand injury. How they’ll take Silas down is a conversation for another day. Her next words have what little resolve he’s gathered ready to crumble for how tender they are, wrapped in the comfort he wants to feel but can only hear.
“I don’t want you blaming yourself for this.” Her fingers trace that deep scar. “Nothing that’s happened has been your fault.”
He’s doing that face scrunch again that keeps him from completely breaking apart, but the tears still slip free against his will.
Her voice is all honey, easy and sweet. He’s full of hard edges now, even worse than before, and she’s the only one who can gently coax the softest parts of him out into the open again.
“I’m so fucking glad I still have you,” he whispers. “That’s all I need.”
“Always. Youalwayshave me.”
* * *
She finds him a dark blue t-shirt, a wet cloth, and an old bottle of peroxide.
Wade treats his own wounds, hissing at the sizzle. He’s ready to collapse where he sits. Wants to crawl into her lap and let her stroke the back of his neck until he falls asleep, but settles for the next best thing.
“Can I sleep in your bed?” It’s an innocent question until what he’s said catches up to him and his blush runs scarlet.
“Sure.”
Kara takes over his spot on the taller bed and he claims the mattress she slept on last night.
The pillow smells like her. He nuzzles into it, pretending she’s here with him instead of a foot and one level away. Sleep comes quickly, but it’s not at all peaceful.
Wade doesn’t dream of the prison he left behind. He dreams of Kara. Though not in the way he’s grown accustomed to.
