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“Maybe not worse, but equally terrible.”
“Okay, spill.”
“I grew up in Ohio.”
“Oh, damn, André. Ohio is a terrible secret.”
“Fuck you.” André poked Dante in the ribs. “I grew up in Granville, not big, not super small. Around twenty-five thousand residents.”
“That’s pretty small,” Dante conceded, grabbing André’s hand and keeping it against his side.
“My dad was on the police force. He was an asshole—but, of course, I didn’t really know that until I was older. My mom got fed up with him, with having two kids, and left when I was almost six. Understandably, I was angry she deserted us like that. But she was very young with very little education, and her family all lived in Canada. As far as I know, that’s where she went. For a short time after that we—my brother and I—had a string of also very young women who wanted to take care of two motherless boys and a wifeless man, until good old Dad showed his real self, then they’d leave.
“By the time I was in high school, I’d realized it wasn’t Mom, it wasn’t us, it was him. I sucked it up, waiting to graduate—kind of like you did. I finished high school and have never been back to Granville.”
“And your brother?”
“Gene. We were only eighteen months apart. But he never left town like I did. He and Dad just lived in that same house together. When I was twenty-two, Gene shot our dad. Before he turned the gun on himself, he drove around town and took three other innocent people’s lives.”
“André.” Dante rolled onto his side. He slipped his arms around André, holding him tight and stroking his hair. Comforting him in a way André had never been comforted. “That’s terrible,” he whispered against his forehead. “You must have felt so guilty. It wasn’t your fault. You weren’t there. You aren’t your father or brother.”
These were things André had told himself repeatedly over the years. He’d been to therapy, more than once. And that didn’t include the counselor the Marshals Service had required when they learned of his past. Dante’s touches and words were a salve he hadn’t known he wanted. Needed.
“Mostly, it’s just a memory. But I didn’t want it to be a secret between us. I’m not ashamed, not anymore. I do feel guilty for leaving Gene on his own.”
“We both carry burdens. Family can suck. And you’ll never know what was going on inside your brother’s head.”
André managed a nod. “True. I have wondered if our mother ever saw the news on TV.”
He liked having Dante wrapped around him. He wasn’t looking forward to the arrival of morning. Here in the dark, sharing the warm covers with Dante, he felt safe. The world was on pause, but André knew it was an illusion and tomorrow they would have to put their literal and figurative armor back on and figure out what the hell was going on.
As if he’d heard André’s thoughts, Dante said, “Once we get whatever the fuck is happening sorted out, we should take a vacation together.”
André yawned. “Maybe we should try and grab some shut-eye first. I set an alarm for six. Gotta get to the station and relieve Lani from perp watch. The lawyer said they’d be here first thing too.”
“No rest for the wicked,” Dante mumbled.
“None at all. Hey.”
“What?” Dante rolled onto his back.
André couldn’t see the bruise in the darkness, but he knew exactly where it was. Skating a hand across Dante’s chest, he gently traced along the purple mark. “You scared me today. Let’s try not to do that again.”
Again, Dante grabbed his hand and pressed it against his chest, directly over his heart. André slipped into an uneasy slumber where he dreamed masked intruders were trying to get at Dante and Daniella and he was the only person keeping them safe.
Six a.m. came far too soon. The sun was still hanging out in the southern hemisphere and, while the storm had let up some, the winds and rain continued to howl and pelt.
Sleep had not been restful, but it had been satisfying to lie in the bed for a few hours with Dante’s warm body next to his. It would be even better when he figured out who was after them. Was it one faction or two different contingents? Was it someone from town or someone from their collective pasts?
Rolling onto his side, André pulled the covers back, doing his best not to disturb his bed partner.
“Is it time?” Dante asked. He didn’t sound as if he’d been asleep either.
“Yep. I’m going to make some coffee and check in with Lani.”
After slipping into sweats and a t-shirt, he stepped into the hall. The dog was snuffling at the bottom of the door to the spare room. As quietly as possible, he turned the knob and pushed it partway open. Luna came shooting out and headed directly for the kitchen. André’s gaze landed on Dani. The teen was asleep, curled up around one of the pillows with the covers pulled up to her nose. It would do her good to sleep as long as possible. Who knew how long it would be before they all slept well again.
Peering out into the dark, André noted that the wind and rain had indeed dialed it down a bit at some point in the last few hours. Unlocking the kitchen door, he let the dog out. She raced to one corner and peed before darting back and forth for a few minutes, sniffing and snuffling. Small animals often ran through his backyard on their way to trees and burrows, and Luna was clearly enjoying tracing their movements.
