Jules nods slowly.‘Yeah, but I don’t remember her.Not at all.My father told me she died when I was born.I’ve only ever seen two pictures of her.We didn’t look alike.’He exhales, visibly resetting.‘Thank you for telling me this.All that you went through, the training stuff…’ Jules trails off into a watery grimace, and Lachlan waits for the hammer to fall.
For Jules to realise how disgusting he really is.
How dirty.Empty.Useless.
All that training for what?
Roman is dead.
‘This was what you meant, isn’t it?When you said,I’m ugly.’
‘Yeah, it is.’
‘Lachlan,’ Jules says, hand on his cheek.‘Look at me.’
Lachlan tries to, he really does, but his gaze is caught and fixed on the water.
Sharks don’t feel guilt.They don’t hand-wring.They don’t fall apart.
They bring death.
They are the oldest killing machines on the planet.
Older than trees, Mimi told him once.
‘What is it, baby?’he asks, still can’t look away.
Three holes in his side.
You.Belong.To me.
Say it, Lachlan.
‘Lachlan, look at me.’
Ro, look at me.
‘Lachlan.’Jules moves his face.‘Please.’
We’re going home.
‘He was nineteen,’ Lachlan tells Jules, like he didn’t know, like it explains anything, like if God could hear it, he’d finally understand the injustice and send legions of hell awaiting his command.‘Nineteen.’
‘So were you,’ Jules says.‘And you’re only twenty-six now, so stop carrying the weight of the fucking world on your shoulders.I love you and I’m not normal and neither is Mimi.We needyou.Blaire and Danya cannot replace you.No one can.’
Lachlan wants to cry.‘I’m tired,’ he confesses to Jules, who kisses his face and holds him tight.‘I’m so tired.’
‘I know you are.I’m going to take care of you.’
‘’S my job,’ he mutters.
Jules pulls back, wipes away Lachlan’s tears.
He’s so beautiful.So magical.So powerful.
Lachlan never stood a fucking chance.
‘We can take turns.’
