28. Theo
28
Theo
T he porch is quiet, wrapped in a stillness that only comes deep in the night—when the world feels impossibly far away like nothing else exists beyond the two of us.
The air is cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth still lingering between us. Selene is curled up against me, tucked neatly under my arm on the old double rocking chair, her bare legs tangled with mine beneath the blanket. The scent of her skin—that intoxicating mix of sweat, shampoo, a scent that’s uniquely her—lingers in the air, keeping me anchored to this moment.
She fits against me like she was always meant to.
For a while, we just sit there, rocking gently, caught in the space between exhaustion and contentment. She traces small, absentminded patterns along my ribs, her fingers featherlight but devastating. Every so often, I feel her breath catch like she wants to say more but can’t quite bring herself to.
I tighten my arm around her, not enough to smother her, just enough to remind her she’s not alone.
If I could freeze time, this is the moment I’d choose. The warmth of her body against mine. The easy rhythm of the chair. The way the night feels endless and safe.
Perfect.
It’s dangerous—how much I want this.
Selene shifts slightly, her cheek pressing against my chest as she exhales, finally breaking the silence. “You’re quiet,” she murmurs, her voice softer than usual.
I huff a quiet laugh, running my fingers over the delicate ridge of her spine. “So are you. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
She hesitates before answering, and I don’t miss the way her fingers tighten around the mug she’s still holding, like it’s the only thing keeping her tethered.
“Just…thinking,” she finally says, voice barely above a whisper.
“Dangerous habit,” I tease, keeping my tone light, even as my thumb instinctively rubs slow circles against her arm.
That earns a faint chuckle, and she finally looks up at me. “Says the guy who’s practically made brooding his full-time job.”
“Touché,” I murmur, resting my chin against the top of her head for just a second before forcing myself to pull back.
I shouldn’t be thinking about how good this feels.
Shouldn’t be memorizing the way she fits against me, the way her fingers feel against my skin, the way she tastes when I kiss her.
Not now. Not when everything is hanging by a thread.
I let out a slow breath and shift my focus. “But seriously, you okay?”
She exhales, a heaviness behind it. “I don’t know. It’s a lot. Everything with Aubrey, Gabriel, tomorrow… It’s hard to make sense of it all. And then there’s me, sitting here, wondering how my life got so far off course.”
Her voice is quiet, but there’s an edge of vulnerability to it that makes me sit up a little straighter. “Off course?” I echo.
She nods, staring down at the mug in her hands. “I left everything behind when I came here. My job, my ex, the life I thought I was supposed to have. I moved to a town I’d never even heard of, adopted a dog that can’t stop stealing shiny things, and somehow found myself in the middle of a murder investigation.” She lets out a dry laugh. “Not exactly what I pictured for myself.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “I mean, that’s one way to keep life interesting. Maybe you’ve just got a flair for the dramatic.”
She turns her head, her cheek brushing against my chest as she gives me a look. “Says the guy whose family drama could rival a true crime documentary. Want to compare notes?”
“I feel like I’d win,” I say, arching an eyebrow. “But I’ll give you credit for effort.”
Her lips twitch, but then her expression softens, and she turns her face toward mine just enough that I can see the concern in her eyes. “Seriously, Theo…are you okay?”
The warmth of her gaze settles a deep tension inside me, but it also unearths everything I’ve been trying to push down.
I take a slow breath.
The truth still feels surreal, like a bad dream I haven’t fully woken up from.
Aunt Aubrey—sweet, doting Aunt Aubrey—killed my parents.
My dad, who worked himself to the bone to give us a better life. My mom, who could turn the worst day bearable just by being there. And Gabriel.
Gabriel, who I thought was the only thing she hadn’t ruined.
The betrayal is a slow, gnawing thing in my chest. She raised me after they were gone. She held me when I cried myself to sleep and told me everything would be okay when my world had been ripped apart.
And all along, she was the one who took them from me.
“Hey,” Selene says softly, pulling me from my thoughts. She shifts, her fingers lightly brushing over mine beneath the blanket, hesitant like she’s testing the waters. “You’ve been quiet for a while. What’s going on?”
I force out a breath, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t even know where to start.”
She doesn’t push, doesn’t fill the silence with empty reassurances. She just looks at me, steady and unwavering, like she sees straight through me.
“I trusted her,” I say finally, the words heavy in my mouth. “She was the only family I had left, and I thought… I thought she cared. That she loved me. But it was all a lie, wasn’t it? Everything she ever said, everything she ever did—it was just a cover for the monster underneath.”
Selene doesn’t look away, doesn’t flinch from the bitterness in my voice. “She’s good at what she does,” she says quietly. “That doesn’t mean it’s your fault for believing her.”
“Doesn’t it?” I murmur, tightening my grip on the blanket. “I lived with her for years. I should’ve noticed a sign—anything. How do you miss the fact that the person who raised you is capable of…of this?”
“You were a kid, Theo,” she says firmly. “You weren’t supposed to see it. You weren’t supposed to know. That’s not on you. That’s on her.”
I exhale slowly, staring out into the darkness. Her words make sense, but they don’t do much to dull the ache in my chest. “It’s just…a lot,” I admit. “Trying to figure out what’s real and what’s not. Trying to make sense of everything I thought I knew about her, about my parents…about myself.”
Selene leans back, letting the weight of her head rest against my shoulder. The movement is natural like we’ve done this a hundred times before. Her fingers brush against mine beneath the blanket, not quite lacing together, but close enough that the warmth of her skin is a quiet, steady thing.
“You don’t have to figure it all out tonight,” she says softly. “Or tomorrow. Or even next year. It’s going to take time.”
I swallow hard, letting her words settle in. The truth is, I don’t know what happens after this. I don’t know what I become once the dust settles, once Aubrey is locked away—or worse, once she’s free again.
But right now, in this moment, I know one thing for certain.
I don’t want to let go of her.
I shift slightly, pressing my lips to her forehead in a slow, lingering kiss. Her breath catches, but she doesn’t pull away.
“So,” I say after a beat, my voice lighter this time, “where do we go from here?”
Selene looks at me, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”
“Let’s start simple,” I suggest, leaning my head back against the rocking chair. “What’s your stance on breakfast for dinner? Because I’m about to make some very bold claims about my pancake skills.”
She tilts her head slightly, an amused gleam in her eyes. “Pancakes, huh? Are we talking fluffy, golden masterpieces or the sad, burnt hockey pucks?”
I place a hand over my heart, pretending to be wounded. “Wow, that’s slander. My pancakes are legendary. Ask anyone. In fact, I’m offering to prove it. Breakfast for dinner tomorrow night. You in?”
She chuckles, her eyes warming. “Alright, I’m in, but I have to warn you, I don’t believe in breakfast for dinner. I believe it firmly belongs before 11 a.m., but I’ll do this for you one time. These better be some world-changing pancakes. But if they’re terrible, I’m taking Valkyrie and leaving town for good.”
“Deal,” I reply, grinning. “But we need to circle back to the blasphemy that is you not liking breakfast for dinner. What is that?”
Selene smiles, but it fades slightly as her gaze drifts to the dark tree line. Her fingers idly trace a fold in the blanket, and when she speaks again, her voice is quieter. “There were a lot of times growing up that it was all we had money to eat. I could make pancakes, and Orion would sometimes ‘steal’ eggs from our neighbor Ms. Spicer. I use the word ‘steal’ loosely because she knew mom would spend all her money at the ABC store. So sometimes, we’d find eggs packaged up for us on the porch, or she’d catch us walking home from school and make sure we had what we needed. We ate a lot of fried eggs, breakfast potatoes, and pancakes…” She trails off, staring at the shadows cast by the porch light.
I don’t know what to say. That was the last thing I expected, and now pancakes don’t feel like such a lighthearted topic anymore. But I get it. I do. Food carries memories. Some good, some bad. Some you’d rather not be reminded of at all.
She must see a change in my expression because she nudges me with her elbow, a small smile returning. “Now that I’ve done enough trauma dumping on you, are you still up for pancakes tomorrow? What happens after that?”
I grin faintly, appreciating how she doesn’t have all the answers either. “I was thinking…maybe we could figure it out together. And in the meantime, maybe we make some plans to do regular things. Activities that don’t involve crime scenes or FBI agents.”
Her brow arches slightly. “Like what?”
“Well, Umbra is going on a world tour soon,” I say, absently rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand where it rests on my stomach. “I was already planning on joining the great war for tickets online to go to a show or two, but…if you’re going, maybe we could meet up. Or travel together. Japan was one of the stops in the last world tour, right? Hopefully, they’ll go back again. I’ve been wanting to check it out for years. Could make a vacation out of it—see the concert, explore the country. What do you think?”
She shifts against me slightly, her body still relaxed, but I can tell she’s studying me. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to take advantage of me and my connections?”
I scoff, shaking my head. “Absolutely not. I was going to go anyway. I’m just saying it might be more fun with someone who knows the band. But no pressure. If you’re not interested, I’ll just be the random guy in the crowd by myself, singing along off-key.”
Her laugh is soft, but it settles a weight inside me, makes me feel lighter in a way I haven’t in a long time.
The conversation drifts, and eventually, silence settles between us again, but it’s comfortable. Selene tilts her head back, her gaze fixed on the night sky, and I watch her for a long moment, taking in the soft curve of her jaw, and the way her eyelashes cast faint shadows on her cheeks.
I don’t know how long we sit like that, but I catch myself wishing time would slow down.
“You know,” I finally say, breaking the silence, “I think this is the first time in weeks where things have felt almost…normal.”
Selene glances at me, a faint smile on her lips. “Normal’s a pretty high bar considering everything that’s happened.”
“True,” I admit, grinning. “But I’ll take what I can get. Sitting here, talking about trips we might take, feeling like there’s still a future to plan for? It’s not nothing.”
Her expression softens, and for a moment, I swear the tension in her shoulders eases just a bit. “I think we’ve earned a little normal,” she says quietly. “Even if it’s just for tonight.”
I lean back in my chair, letting her words sink in. “Then I vote we make this a custom. After every crazy thing we survive, we sit down, have a drink, and talk about the next crazy adventure we want to take. Deal?”
Selene laughs, the sound light and genuine, and it feels like a balm on everything that’s been weighing me down. “Deal,” she agrees.
“But you have to make me a promise.”
“That depends, what do you want?”
“No water in mugs during this custom. It gives me the heebie jeebies.”
Selene barks out a laugh but before she can say anything, the sound of the back door creaking open draws both of our attention.
Orion steps out, his expression serious, but not cold. He’s always got this way about him like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he’s determined not to let it break him.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, glancing between the two of us. “But the rest of the team is here. We need to do a final run-through for tomorrow. Make sure we’ve got everything covered.”
Selene straightens in her seat, her calm slipping away as the reality of what’s coming crashes back down. I feel it, too—the shift in the air, the weight of what tomorrow means.
“Got it,” I say, pushing myself to my feet. “We’ll be right in.”
Orion nods, stepping back inside and leaving the two of us alone again.
Selene stands as well, cradling the now-empty mug in her hands. She looks at me, her expression unreadable, but her eyes… Her eyes are steady, clear, like she’s bracing herself for whatever comes next.
“You ready for this?” I ask, my voice quieter now.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replies, her tone matching mine.
I reach out, resting a hand lightly on her arm. “Whatever happens tomorrow…we’ve got each other’s backs. Yeah?”
She nods, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah.”
And with that, we head inside, leaving the quiet of the porch behind.
Because tomorrow, everything changes.