Chapter 11 #4
Esme’s strides were long, even for her legs. Which I was certainly not looking at with any sort of admiration, wrapped in tight tactical pants as they were.
Unrelated, it took effort to turn my head towards the side to take another peek at Bellamy and Soren hosting an impromptu press conference.
Someone must have said something incredibly uniformed or offensive, because Soren’s jaw did that pulsing thing at the same time Bellamy’s back straightened.
The corner of my mouth ticked up when I saw her hand twitch at her side when she realized how hard Soren’s jaw had gone.
I’d caught her smoothing her hand over the bulging joint several times over the past weeks.
She should just do it. The press would—
Bellamy was five steps ahead, as expected. She let her hand drift up, casually passing over Soren’s jaw and erasing any degree of tension.
It was obvious how steady Bellamy made Soren. Something he desperately needed, something my best friend desperately needed.
God, what I could have done for Esme if I’d known about the Bond earlier. There was so much I could have made easier.
Shaking off the dark tendrils of that ugly regret, I turned back to my family, only to be punched straight in the gut by something worse.
Adam was crawling all over Esme like a child freely roaming a playground, and Annie was sitting next to her, knees tucked under her and eyes wide with admiration.
Sophie was saying something to her that was forcing a smile to her lips, clearly begrudgingly.
You aren’t making her happy, the Bond commented, making me want to strangle it almost as much as I wished I could strangle myself.
I was careful in my approach, something I’d learned to do in my youth when I shot up in height well before my peers and had to learn not scare people when I walked up.
Sophie made room for me next to her, and I slid in to the bench, fitting my knees around Esme’s under the narrow table.
Mistake, that was. No matter how many times we’d done it before, keeping careful distance between our limbs, if not turning at an awkward angle to avoid that song and dance all together.
Even with several inches of space between us, it felt like she was a millimeter away, close enough to feel the static heat of her skin, the negative space potent enough to drive me mad.
It was no surprise that my words came out hoarse and scratchy when I asked my sister, “How long have they been planning this?”
Sophie’s answering scoff sounded like the childhood we clung onto when life tried to rip it from us.
“We had about two seconds to get our shit together and get in the car or they were leaving us. They came by late last night and said they were putting together a special visiting day for morale or something.”
I felt, more so than saw, Esme stiffen. We’d certainly catch up later, so I left it to her to scan the room, picking up on every little detail that her eyes were able to pick up on.
“I’m not going to complain,” I said, not bothering to hide my smile as Adam dramatically slammed himself onto the table in defeat when the toy he was playing with fell of the side.
Without missing a beat and keeping her eyes trained on something over my shoulder, Esme bent and picked it up, returning the toy to Adam’s waiting hands.
He looked at her like she hung the moon, eyes wide and glassy with admiration.
Yeah, that makes two, buddy. The voice that spoke in my mind was free of the Bond’s rumbling growl.
“Whatever the reason,” Sophie continued, “I’m sure they wanted every opportunity to get cameras on those two again.
” She pointed at Bellamy and Soren, an entirely new set of reporters in front of them.
“Everyone’s obsessed with them. Paranimas are one thing, but make it two Royals? ” She broke off in a sarcastic laugh.
Yeah, I bet.
Something petulant grew in my chest, knowing a camera had never once been leveraged at me and Esme. It was harder to get ahold of us, especially considering we’d only been off the Base a handful of times since enlisting, but I still found the mind to be annoyed about it.
I wasn’t pleased with the alternative either, though that made me a selfish bastard.
Who was I, to want to keep Esme’s brilliance to myself when I’d done nothing to show her how I appreciated it for nearly a decade?
Good God. If she never looked at me again, that would be too kind a punishment.
It was effort to focus on what mattered, to ask my sister how she’d been and pepper my niece and nephew with questions until they opened up and began that excited babble that I’d missed so much.
I could feel how it softened me, eased my muscles and the joint in my jaw. Made it easier to smile, giving strength to the damaged nerves under my scar.
It wasn’t true peace, not when there was an unsettled feeling ever-present in the back of my mind. Something was just off, and it certainly had something to do with the fact that Esme was sitting across the table from me with a ramrod straight back.
That wasn’t right. She was supposed to be relaxed in my presence.
And who’s fault is that, huh? The Bond chuffed, pushing a wave of displeasure through me so severe, I felt like it was singeing off the tips of every nerve.
When Esme’s name was called from across the room, she took the opportunity in a flash, placing a kiss on Sophie’s head and accepting hugs from Adam and Annie, before taking off without another look in my direction.
“Well,” Sophie drawled the second Esme was out of earshot.
She paused, leaving me to wait in agonizing anticipation as she pulled out a book for Annie and a coloring book for Adam, making sure they were thoroughly distracted before addressing me again. “She doesn’t seem to pleased with you. What did you do?”
“What did I do?” I asked, cringing at the defensiveness in my tone, far deeper than simple brotherly affront.
Sophie’s eyes narrowed at me, and it was like looking into a displeased mirror. “I have never asked. Never pressed why you two have seemed nothing more than acquaintances for years. I see that’s changed.”
Well, shit, if there was anyone to tell, it was my sister.
I opened my mouth to speak, and my throat constricted in pain.
Real, physical pain that made my voice sound scratchy and overworked as I forced myself to say.
“We thought we’d rejected the Bond. That we were paranimas enough to Cross without side effects, but that there was nothing past that.
None of the…” I trailed off, unable to find the words.
“None of that?” Sophie asked, jutting her chin behind me. I looked to see Soren turn Bellamy’s head into his shoulder for a moment of connection while the reporters around them took a break to fiddle with their equipment.
This time, I was sure there were razor blades digging into my throat. “No. I learned recently that is not true. Esme felt the Bond. I didn’t. She only recently told me.” I didn’t—couldn’t—share the other details. I didn’t know who was listening.
Sophie didn’t respond right away. Her eyes dotted around the table, considering. “And do you? Now?”
All I could do was nod.
To my surprise, so did Sophie.
“What? No yelling at me?” I asked, secretly wanting her to.
Sophie shook her head, her mouth pulling up on one end in a lopsided smile.
“I think you know what to do from here. I don’t know what it’s like to live the lives you do.
What it must be like to—” She cut herself off with a shake of her head, unable to voice it.
Good, I didn’t want her thinking of those horrors.
“I’m not going to lecture you. You know how kind she is. ”
Yeah, I fucking did. My eyes zeroed in on Sophie’s necklace. “Did you ask her to?”
Sophie reached over and yanked on a strand of my hair, the old sign from our childhood that she was at her wits end with me. “Of course not, dickhead. It just showed up at the house the day after my birthday a few years ago.”
That would have been during the time Esme was suppressing the Bond.
As my chest caved in on itself from guilt, all I could do was pray to the Goddess for strength.