Chapter 23
Evander
Kasey stared at the photos, eyes flicking over every inch of them.
He’d been so much smaller then. So bright and so unguarded. So happy without the world hanging on his shoulders.
Now he stood in my bedroom, wrapped in my blanket, looking at a version of himself he couldn’t remember, and I didn’t know whether to be grateful he’d followed me or terrified of what this might do to him.
I slid my thumb along the edge of the picture, careful not to touch the surface. I’ve kept these safe for years. Some of them I took myself, some our parents.
I will never forget the sound of Kasey’s laughter that day when he failed to stay still. He never stopped moving, not even for something he wanted.
I remembered how light he felt when I lifted him on my shoulders so he could reach a particular leaf from a tree.
And now he is here. Older. Hurt. Lost. But still him.
Still the boy who had trusted me once.
I couldn’t hide the fact that I knew him; that we once knew each other. It wouldn’t be fair for the Omega if I did.
But would the truth being spoken so soon destroy his view of me already? If he wanted nothing to do with me, that would be okay. It had to be. It was worth the price of spilling my secrets so quickly.
I looked at his face carefully, searching for any sign of distress, any flicker of panic.
He didn’t look panicked. He looked lost and confused, and deep in thought.
I hoped he didn’t think it was a game; hoped he wasn’t thinking of how to be the boy he thought I wanted.
The next picture was yet again of Kasey. All of them were, to be honest. I watched the boy more than the picture once again, wanting to calculate each expression that flickered through him. The good and the bad.
Kasey’s breath hitched and he took a tiny step backwards.
The picture was taken at a campsite, the same one of our very last camping trips as two complete families. It was late afternoon, the sun peeking through the trees that cast shadows along the ground.
Kasey was in the middle, with small bright eyes and holding a stick with a marshmallow on the end like it was a trophy.
His mother knelt beside him, her arm around his back, smiling at him instead of the camera. He was her son, her rock, and her entire life.
Behind them stood Kasey’s father, one hand on the mother’s shoulder, the other on Kasey’s head.
It was normal. They looked happy; they were happy. Always content to be just the three of them. I knew Kasey’s mother dealt with some issues of having more children, and they never pushed to have more than the one that they were graced with.
But with Kasey’s disappearance, things had been rough, and rightfully so. It was rough for us all.
“That very last family photo.” I think one of my parents snapped this photo. It was just hours before Kasey had left our lives.
“It’s…. no.” Kasey took another step back, tears in his eyes as he shook his head back and forth.
“I knew you, Kasey, when you were younger. I knew the way you’d look at me each time you set your eyes on me.
I knew the way your mother adored you to pieces, often times spoiling you when she thought no one would notice.
I know the way our families felt after you disappeared on that camping trip.
I know how your parents were defeated. But I also know how I never once stopped looking for you. ”
“No…they…they…died. Car crash. They said so. There were pictures. I’m not….” Kasey snapped his mouth shut, stopping whatever words that wanted to come out. Then, as though he had no choice, he shut down.
“Your name is Kasey Lorne Hale. Born September tenth, two thousand and eight. You didn’t have any siblings, but in their place you had me and a number of other cousins who all adored you. I was your favorite.”
Kasey dropped his gaze to the floor, a single tear slipping from the corner of his eye and trailing down his cheek. Then, with a voice stronger than I expected, stronger than he probably meant it to be, he whispered. “That’s not me. It can’t be.”
He didn’t look at the photos, nor at me. He stared at the floor like it was the only thing holding him upright.
“That boy is happy. I’m…. I’ve never been happy. But if you wish it of me, I’ll be him for you, Sir. I’ll…study him to become what you want of me.”
Hearing those words split me apart all over again.
I didn’t want a different type of Kasey.
I wanted the one that stood before me, who was lost and confused.
Yeah, I wanted the happy little boy I once knew, too, but the one before me now was more important.
That happy Omega I once knew may be there somewhere. He had to be.
Setting the handful of pictures on the bed, I stepped towards him, just one step, slow enough that he could stop me if he wanted to. He didn’t. He only kept his gaze pinned to the floor, shoulders tight, and breath thinly.
“Kasey,” I said. The word came out rougher than I meant it to. Not a command, not a correction. But a plea.
A plea for him to lift his head. A plea for him to see me. A plea for him to understand that I wasn’t showing him these to trap him or corner him or force him into a past he didn’t remember.
“Kasey,” I tried again, softer this time, the sound barely filling the space between us. “Please.”
His fingers curled tighter into the blanket, but he still wouldn’t look up.
And God, it broke something in me. Watching him fold in on himself like he expected the truth to hurt.
“I don’t want you to pretend to be that boy in the pictures.
” I stepped another step closer. “I’m not asking you to be anything but who you are.
What I want is for you to know that you are that boy.
You went missing, Kasey. Taken from your family and friends.
Taken from your parents. Taken from me.”
I heard him swallow as another tear slowly rolled down his face.
“It’s okay if you don’t believe me. You don’t have to believe the pictures or the stories to go with each one.” My voice cracked, barely audible. “But at least don’t pretend to be someone you aren’t.”
“I’m whatever you want me to be, Sir.”
I never wanted to shake someone so badly as I did right then. I wouldn’t. I’d never hurt Kasey. But I wasn’t sure what I could do or say to get through his head.
“I want you just as you are, sweetheart. Tears and all. I’d like to see you happy, but I don’t expect that right now.” Or maybe never at the rate we were going.
Kasey didn’t speak, only blinked, tears slipping down his cheeks. Each one fell without a sound.
I moved carefully, giving him every chance to pull away. First, my hand brushed his shoulder, light and barely there. When he didn’t flinch, I let my palm settle, then slowly lifted my other hand to cup his cheek.
His chin was warm beneath my thumb, damp with tears, but he didn’t lean into my touch. He didn’t shy away from it either.
He just…went still. That awful, familiar stillness I was seeing way too much.
The one he retreats into when the world presses too hard. The one where he folds himself away, quiet and unreachable, like he’s bracing for something he can’t stop.
His eyes stayed unfocused, fixing somewhere far past me.
He wasn’t ignoring me; he was just gone in the way he goes when life became too much.
He did it at Lockswell. And he is doing it now.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go to the couch.”
Once the words left my mouth, he shifted instantly, slipping into that politeness he uses when he can’t cope. His feet carried him exactly where I’d told him to go. Not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t know how to do anything else.
I exhaled, shaking my head. Pushing him right now would only make him fold in more, so I let him go for a moment and stepped into the kitchen. I grabbed one of the anti-anxiety pills and filled a cup with water.
When I returned to the living room, his sight hit me harder than I expected.
Kasey was kneeling on the floor.
I didn’t fight him on it. Not now. Not when he was already hanging on by threads. Instead, I lowered myself onto the couch beside him and reached out, letting my fingers slide gently through his hair. He didn’t lean into the touch, but he didn’t pull away either.
“Open.” His mouth opened moments after the word was spoken, and I slipped the pill into his mouth. He easily swallowed it with a sip of water before straightening his spine.
“Relax, sweetheart.” My words fell on deaf ears.
Thankfully, within minutes, his body loosened, and he leaned more towards the couch than kneeling up straight in that perfect pose.
“I don’t want you to be perfect, Kasey. Because you already are perfect just the way you are.” At those words, he looked up towards me, enough to let me know he heard them, but not enough to understand them.
That was okay. Because in the short amount of time I already had this Omega in my house, I saw a tiny glimpse of that boy he once was.