He lifts his head off my shoulder. His hand doesn't leave the back of my neck but it stops working for a second.
"Bane."
I exhale.
"None of his usual doors are open to him right now."
"...what do you mean?"
"He won't drink heavy around the house because of you. He hasn't touched anything harder than a beer or wine in two months that I know of. And he is sure as fuck not bringing strangers home to a house with you in it."
"Bane—"
"Which leaves him with one place to put it, baby. All his negative energy and angst and fury. And that place is the bond between you and him."
He stares at me. His mouth has gone soft and open.
"He wouldn't hurt me—"
"He wouldn'tmeanto. Zero would not raise a hand against you in his right mind for any reason in this world. I'd stake my life on that, and I would also stake yours, which I know is a lot to ask, but I'd stake yours too. That's not what I'm worried about."
"Then what?"
"He'll come to your room one of these nights with the wrong thing in him and he'll fuck you the way he used to fuck strangers. Not to hurt you. To not feel something for an hour.And he'll wake up at four in the morning with you against his chest and he'll realize what he just did and he'll—" I stop. Start again. "He'll break, Maxie. Not you. Him. And I don't know what's on the other side of that for him. Or for you, watching it happen."
The library has gone very quiet.
His hand at the back of my neck has started moving again, slow, almost without him knowing he's doing it. He's processing.
"...does he know you're worried about that?"
"No. But if I sense it happening and he comes to your door one night with something behind his eyes I can't reach—I'll be at your door first. Every time."
Max swallows. His hand tightens at my nape. I can tell my words have scared him.
"Don't carry this around, baby. I have it. I have him. I haveyou. That's the order. That's always the order."
"You don't sound okay, Bane."
"I'm just tired, Maxie."
His hand keeps working slow at the back of my neck. He kisses my jaw, light. He doesn't say anything for a while.
When he speaks again it's small and almost lost against my throat.
"If he comes to my door, I don't have to turn him away."
"...Maxie."
"I'm not going to turn him away, Bane. He's mine. Whatever he's carrying, that's mine too. If you're worried, then come too. Come with him. Be in the room. But don't ask me to send him away when he needs something."
I close my eyes.
I'd been running the same loop for two weeks. Zero coming to Max's door alone. Me getting there too late. Or worse—me getting there in time and having to put my hand on mybrother's chest and physically turn him around in a hallway, in front of Max, and watching what that did to all three of us.
Max just took that version off the table.Come with him. Be in the room. Somehow he just brought me even more peace than his presence already did.
I don't know what to do with that other than press my forehead against the side of his head and breathe him in.
